Fantasy

It was after curfew when Amiru got the call.

"Senpai?" She could hear him gasping through the phone as if he was choking on tears.

"Amiru…" he cried. "I…"

"What's wrong?" She sat bolt upright on her bed.

"I need you," he whispered through the sobs.

"You need me…? Now? Like you want me to go to you? W-Where are you?"

"My room…" he said through a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry, but I don't know who else to talk to."

"Don't worry! I'm coming!"

She snuck out of her dorm and to the third-year dormitories. She'd never been out past curfew, but for Kirishima-Senpai…

A few minutes later, she knocked timidly on his door. "Senpai?" She meekly called. "I'm here."

She heard him shuffling inside. Then, the door opened. He stood there, tears running down his cheeks, his expression heartbroken.

She opened her mouth to speak but didn't get the chance. Suddenly, he was pulling her inside and closing the door behind them. She let out a startled gasp as he pulled her roughly into his arms, breathed against her hair, and sobbed.

"K-Kirishima…" She stood there uselessly, not sure how she was supposed to react. Eventually, she wrapped her arms around him in what she hoped was a comforting embrace. "What's wrong?"

"It's Hana," he whimpered. "She… It's… over between us. I caught her with someone else."

"Oh…" Amiru let the news settle. "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how much you must be hurting."

He breathed shakily against her. "It hurts so much…"

"Um… how can I help you, Senpai? What do you want me to do?"

"Just… stay here with me for a little while, Amiru. I don't want to be alone."

"Okay. I won't leave you."

He breathed a heavy sigh before stepping away from her and slumping onto his bed. He put his face in his hands and sat still. The lights weren't on in his room, so his figure was like that of a shadow, frozen in the dim light, stuck in a position of agony.

She sat down next to him. "You can talk to me about it."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," he breathed. "It doesn't matter."

"It still matters!" She placed her hand on his knee. "Kirishima-senpai, you were with her for a long time. I know how much you love her…"

He let out a long breath before leaning his head against her shoulder. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"Well… I guess you have to grieve and then heal and move on," she said. "I don't know because I've never had a boyfriend and I've never really been heartbroken, but… You don't have to go through it alone. You have friends to help you, and… you have me."

He looked at her. In the semi-darkness, his eyes looked dilated, large, and swimming with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. "I do have you, don't I?" he asked, in little more than a slow whisper.

"O-Of course," she said, embarrassed by the breathless quality in her voice.

"Amiru…" He lifted his hand. She inhaled sharply when his fingertips brushed her jaw. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"Me? No! I'm… I just…"

"You never treat me like I'm a kid. You look up to me, respect me, and… you've liked me this whole time even though I just complained about my girlfriend." His fingers stroked her skin. His thumb drifted slowly to her chin, then higher until it ghosted over her lips. "I wish Hana treated me the way you do."

Tiny tremors of pleasure shot through her body. It suddenly felt hot in his room, and her body was beginning to burn with new, powerful emotions.

"I think…" she whispered, shuddering as the motion of speaking caused her lips to brush his thumb, "that you deserve to be cared for. I think you deserve better than what Kanzashi was giving you, S-Senpai."

He leaned in closer. She felt his warm breath tickling her face. Her eyes were swallowed by the red intensity in his. "Are you saying that you can give me what I need, Amiru?"

"I…" she swallowed hard. "I c-could, um… if you wanted me to."

The corner of his mouth tugged up in a small smile. "You're so innocent and straightforward… It's different than what I'm used to. I like it."

"Kirishima-senpai…"

"Amiru…"

She whimpered in surprise the moment he pressed his lips against hers. It was sudden, it was fierce. His mouth moved against her own as his hand slid up her neck and into her hair.

My first kiss…

Her body responded. She felt her insides unfurling, releasing waves of warmth that coursed through her torso. She'd never felt like this before. Everything was a swirl of color, heat, and the euphoric sensation of her hero's lips claiming hers for the first time.

He broke the kiss almost reluctantly, then breathed against her mouth. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "This is wrong."

"No, it's not!" she said, quickly. "It's okay… really."

"No…" He pressed his forehead against hers and sighed. "It's not fair to you. I still have feelings for Hana. You deserve better, Amiru."

"There's nothing better than this, Kirishima," she argued. "You're my senpai… my hero. I don't care if you're not over her yet. I want to be there for you, no matter what! You can…" she measured her breathing as she searched for the courage to say the next words. "You can u-use me however you want."

"Use you?" He leaned back, then looked at her with a frown. "I could never use you."

"I-I just mean… you know…"

He studied her a moment longer, then nodded. "I do know. I understand how you feel, Amiru."

In that case, nothing she'd thought, felt, or done had been wasted. As long as he understood and accepted the feelings she had for him, then… nothing else mattered.

"Hey," he said, quietly. "I know it's after curfew and everything, but… could you stay a while longer?"

"I can stay as long as you need me to, Senpai."

"Okay, then…" He laid down on his bed. "This is gonna sound weird, but can I… hold you for a little while?"

Hold me?

He made a face in the darkness. "Sorry, that's super weird, right? I just thought… It's been a long time since I got to hold someone in my arms and I… I'm so lonely."

She didn't respond. Instead, she carefully lay down next to him, her heart hammering against her ribs. She rolled onto her side, allowing him to wrap his arms around her. He scooted flush against her back and breathed in the scent of her hair once more.

It was everything she'd dreamed of. His arms were so strong, so secure around her. She could feel his chest rising and falling with every breath he took. Could feel the shape of his masculine body enveloping her. His scent was everywhere, invading her nostrils and creeping its way into parts of her that she'd never taken the time to understand or explore.

His hand glided soothingly along her arm, making the hairs rise and her skin itch with anticipation. His breath was loud and warm against her hair, and she could swear she felt his lips brush the skin of her neck once, as he left a lingering kiss there.

She didn't move or speak. If this was what he needed… even if she was just a stand-in for Kanzashi while he dealt with his grief and heartbreak—she would be okay with that. Anything he wanted to offer, she would take. She loved him. She had always loved him.

"Amiru," he said, and it was a low rumbling sound that spread itself across her skin.

"Yes?" she whispered.

"Did you mean it?" he asked, quietly. "A while ago, when I told you about how Hana hurt me during the Sports Festival… You told me that you'd do anything to make me feel better. You said that you'd do anything for me. Did you mean it?"

Something about his tone made her chest swell and shivers of excitement run through her body. "I meant it," she said. "I don't care what it is. I'll do anything for you."

"Even if… I really am just using you for comfort?" He nuzzled against her hair. His lips brushed the skin of her ear.

"I already told you. You can use me if you need to."

"Then…" He sighed against her ear, but it was a different kind of sigh than she'd ever heard from him before. It sounded like a sigh of pleasure. "Amiru," he said, voice dragging in what almost resembled a moan. His hand slid down her body, along her side, dipping in the curve of her waist and then spreading out on her hip. "Please, comfort me," he begged.

"I… I don't know how," she said. "I don't know what you want."

"It's the same thing you want," he said. His hand dipped below her shirt and slid back up her side, flush against her skin now. "What do you want, student?"

"I want…" she released a sound that would normally have embarrassed her. But now, here in Kirishima's room with his arms around her, she couldn't even find room for embarrassment.

"You want me, don't you?" he asked. "You've wanted me for a long time."

She fidgeted in his hold, her thighs squeezing together and hips starting to squirm. "Yes… I-I want you."

"I didn't want to admit it," he said, "but I want you too."

"Senpai…" she breathed a moan as his hand drifted back to her hip.

"Will you comfort me tonight, Amiru?" he asked. "Will you let me touch you... like I used to touch her?"

She shivered with pleasure at the forbidden words. "Yes," she moaned. "But I've never done anything like that before so I… I don't know how to help you."

"I'll teach you," he said. His fingers dipped below the waistband of her skirt. "I'm your senpai, after all."

"S-Senpai…"

"Amiru…" Fingers exploring even lower, crossing into uncharted terrain, skimming over the soft fabric of her panties. Then further still… "Help me forget Hana. Please… say you'll do it."

"I promise," she whispered, then bit back a moan as his fingers brushed across her sex for the first time. "I-I'll help you. Senpai… please, touch me more…"

It was Friday morning, the day after James visited Kinuhana's apartment. He'd hardly slept all night, thinking about the abrupt ending to their time together.

He'd made a terrible call by being too forthright with his feelings too soon. He could still recall with perfect clarity the look of shock and anxiety on her pretty face when he told her the name for his clothing line. Her rejection had been swift and absolute.

To make matters worse, that boy showed up at her door. Kirishima. One look at his face, at the jealousy so clearly written on his young features, married with anguish and betrayal—told James all that he needed to know.

The high schooler was Kinuhana's boyfriend. Not just her ex, not just her cute juvenile crush that she used to kiss under the bleachers, either. He was her lover. A look of betrayal that deep didn't come from someone who hadn't completely and utterly surrendered himself to his beloved. He had been consumed by Kinuhana. He had been enraptured by her, completed by her. He had found himself at the center of her pleasure, had been in complete control of her body. That was why the sting of seeing her with James was so severe.

It also explained why her confrontation with the boy had left her so wounded. He was her everything. Likely the only lover she'd ever had. And that first heartbreak proceeding from that first, intimate relationship was always the hardest. James knew this from experience. Even ten years later, he still winced when he remembered the blond, freckle-faced boy who told him he loved him in a barn when they were fourteen.

James' heart ached for her. He wished he could have stayed and provided her solace in this time of hardship, but she'd made it immediately clear that she required solitude.

It was difficult for him to focus as he made some last-minute changes to his designs. He still remembered Kinuhana's praise. Still remembered her surprise when he told her the line was named in her honor. Now it felt wrong to work on these pieces, knowing that his affection had been misplaced.

"The puzzle comes together at last," he mused. All along he'd been trying to piece her together, hoping that the aligned pieces would hold a picture he could frame and keep. It had been a mystery—a game. But the lover at her door was the final piece to the puzzle, revealing an image of a young woman who could not belong to James. At least, not now. Not in the sense he'd been fancying this whole time.

There was a knock on his office door. He looked quickly at the clock, afraid that perhaps it was time for the pitch already. No, he still had over an hour before he would need to make himself seen.

"Come on in," he said.

He expected Jeanist or someone else from the design team. He did not expect Kinuhana to glide smoothly into the room as she usually did on work mornings.

"Kanzashi!" He sat down his stylus and stepped out from behind the desk. "I'm surprised you came in today." He would have called out, personally. Mental health breaks were more than a necessity after grieving the loss of a loved one or relationship. But perhaps she was one of the strange people who benefitted from keeping busy when she was hurting. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

She clicked the lock of his office door into place, then leaned heavily against it.

Everything about her appearance screamed "worn down." Her face was pale, the dark circles around her eyes pronounced now that she wasn't wearing makeup to cover them. Her outfit was one that she'd worn before rather than a new creation. Her hair was down and colored the same navy blue as Jeanist's hero costume. And yet, despite all of this, she still managed to lift her head proudly and meet his eyes with her usual, steely gray stare. "You're not going to ask me if I'm okay?"

He leaned on his palm on the desk and proffered a smile. "Why ask a question I already know the answer to? I'd rather skip to my role in all of this. So, I'll ask again. Is there anything I can do for you?"

She relaxed, ever-so-slightly. There was no mistaking the relief that passed over her face as she closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. She liked that James didn't bother with fluff in times like these. Like her, he was focused on the end goal.

"I'm sorry," she managed, once she'd collected herself. "When I rushed you out of my apartment… I wasn't very friendly."

"Rest assured, I was not offended. Though, if it helps you cope, then I accept your apology."

A strained silence fell between them. He took this opportunity to study her further, trying to guess as to her inner workings, thoughts, and feelings. She was in pain, yet she was here. Her wounds were deep but she was reaching for something. In the dismal fog of her agony, she had allowed her feet to bring her here, into James' office, knowingly displaying her tattered and broken spirit to him. This girl who usually trapped her feelings in an opaque box, hidden from view, was now yielding them in a container made of glass. Protected, but visible.

She wants me to see her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, carefully. Do you want to open the glass jar and pour your broken heart into my hands to see if I can rearrange the pieces? I am quite good at puzzles, Kinuhana.

"No," she said, her voice devoid of the emotions he could see so clearly. "I'm tired of being asked to talk about my feelings. I'm tired of being forced to communicate when I don't want to. I don't want to talk."

Ah. Look, but do not touch. The transparent jar was there to speak where she could not.

"I'd like to help you if I can," he offered.

"Because you're attracted to me?"

She dropped her eyes now as she waited for his response. It was easy enough to answer, but James wasn't interested in the surface-level question. He wanted to understand her motives. He wanted to see beyond what she was presenting him with and unearth the origin. Then, he would know how to navigate this minefield of a conversation. She was keeping the map from him. It was his job to proceed with caution.

"You want me to say 'no,'" he observed. "You want to hear that I'm offering my help out of the kindness of my heart, as a coworker and friend. But you and I both know that would be a lie."

She looked up at him in surprise.

"Of course, I'm more invested in helping you through your struggles because I'm attracted to you. I'm not going to pretend those feelings don't influence how I treat you, Kinuhana."

"You're… honest," she said, quietly. Her voice was sad when she said these words. "But your honesty is… blunter than what I'm used to."

"I can be tactful," he said, "but I can also be direct. Which begs the question… which of those things do you want from me, right now?"

She closed her eyes. He felt like he was watching her emotions wriggle and climb in the glass jar, attempting to escape, multiplying, growing ever more vicious where she kept them. Then, she opened her eyes and approached him. There was no hesitation, not in her movements, at least. She sauntered up to him until she was standing only a hair's breadth away, her clothes brushing his own, her face so near to his that he could smell her fruity lip gloss.

"I want a distraction," she said, warm breath tickling his lips. "I don't want to talk. I want to act."

Oh, so it's not "look but don't touch." She wants "touch but don't keep."

"You know…" he said, a shudder passing through him as he resisted the urge to close the small space that separated her body from his. "I'm obligated, by notion of consent, to ask you at least once if you're sure of this."

"I need this," she whispered.

James was not one to second-guess a decision made by someone with a mission. Nor did he have personal values that prevented him from bending to her will. Of course, there was always the matter of later regrets but he'd learned long ago that regrets usually did not outweigh the value of the present.

So, he gripped her by the small of her back and pulled her against him. She gave a hiss of pleasure before capturing his mouth with her own. She was urgent, driven by an all-powerful need to eradicate her painful memories. She wanted to push away bittersweet recollections of her ex-lover's tongue, skin, and teeth. Wanted to replace them, at least temporarily, with novel sensations.

He tilted her head back and deepened the kiss, introducing the taste of a new lover to her inexperienced tongue. She pressed herself harder against him, forcing him to sit on the desk with her partially mounted on his lap. When the kiss broke, she looked at him, her gray irises dancing between his eyes, full of those emotions she was still so carefully concealing. Her hands cupped his face, then lifted higher to remove his glasses so that she could gaze into his eyes uninhibited. It was an act of eroticism, as far as he was concerned, and it drove him to kiss her again before dragging his tongue down her neck.

He pushed the sleeve of her blouse down, over her shoulder, exposing milky skin. Meanwhile, she slid her small hands up his back and clung to his shirt with her nails. Her breath hitched as he drew her skin into his mouth and sucked.

I want to claim you, Kinuhana. I've wanted you to belong to me for so long now.

He sank his teeth into her supple skin, eliciting a sharp gasp from her lips. Her nails dug into his back as the shuddering exhale dissipated. He released her, his lips still hovering just above the skin. "Too rough?" he asked.

"No," she breathed. "It's… your teeth. They're not sharp." She let out a sound that was almost a laugh but came out as more of a shaky breath.

I see. These are new sensations. She's never had the pleasure of being marked by her lover, never endured the sweet pain evoked by tongue and teeth. In that case…

He drew his head down, nipping her collarbone as he undid the top two buttons of her blouse. His tongue slid lower until his lips were perched above her right breast, on delicate skin that never peeked out of her work clothes. Here, he gifted her with another kiss, drawing her flesh into his mouth and sucking hard.

She moaned and arched her back, driving herself further into him. He kneaded her skin with his tongue and teeth until he was sure his efforts would leave a mark. Sure enough, when he leaned back to admire his work, he was met with the sight of an already dark bruise that was sure to remain for the next few following days.

I'll leave my mark on you. There will be no denying that, at least for these few, blissful minutes of pleasure, you were mine.

His fingers pushed down the lacy fabric of her bralette, exposing the small peaks that she'd tempted him with in her apartment last night. It hadn't been purposeful, of course. He'd caught her after a shower, in clothes she'd adorned in haste. She'd had no idea he could see the shape of her nipples straining against the shirt she'd worn. No idea how badly he'd wanted to take possession of her then and there. And now that the opportunity had arisen, he could hardly contain his own moan as he swirled his tongue around one pink nipple.

"James!" she moaned, as he drew her in deeper, allowing his teeth to graze the tender flesh.

Go ahead, Kinuhana. Say my name. Say the name of the lover who's going to make the pain of your past melt away.

Her hands unclasped his belt, quickly working to unveil the source of his longing. She drew him from his confines, fingertips squeezing beneath the head of his need as she felt him for the first time.

She shifted in his hold, adjusting her hips as her hands hiked up the skirt she wore. He broke away from her breast in time to catch her sliding the thin strip of fabric that covered her slit to the side. She couldn't even be bothered to remove the thong completely. She was too desperate, too impulsive, too afraid to hesitate and lose this euphoria.

She slid onto him so easily. Her sex engulfed him, silky and warm, drawing him inside all the way to his base in one, practiced motion. Her heat was beyond description, seeping into him and unrolling until it escaped in a hot breath against her neck. Her hips rocked as she indulged in the feeling of a new lover's shaft filling her, throbbing inside and stretching her walls in a familiar way.

Yes, Kinuhana. You're mine. Maybe only for today. Maybe for the first day of many more to come. But in this instant, Kinuhana Kanzashi…. You are mine and only mine