—Chapter 10—Wednesday, May 4th, Daytime—

Detective Hotaru Naabe sat down at his desk with a sigh and reached for his half-full cup of coffee from earlier, taking a sip. Cold… God dammit… Disgusted, he pushed the cup to the back of his desk, where it would stay until he inevitably tried it again later.

Flipping through the typed pages, Detective Naabe found the vehicle report: Red Dodge Charger, Tochigi plates, number 39-14. Seen on CCTV at the Academy on the night of the third murder. Registered to a Mr. Tetsuo Watanabe of Utsunomiya.

What a prick… thought the detective. It was no wonder the jogger had called him in—he had a very unsavory vibe. It was also no wonder that there was a restraining order pending against him, though, from the conversation he'd had with Mr. Watanabe, it didn't sound like he knew that yet. It was Golden Week—paper trails moved more slowly these days, and the request had only gone out today for an officer to deliver the news. At the time he'd made the phone call, Detective Naabe hadn't known about the restraining order either.

The detective slipped on his earpiece and pressed 'play' on the tape recorder. It was already cued up to the part he wanted to paraphrase.

"Can you tell us what you were doing at the dormitory in the northwest part of campus on Friday, April twenty-ninth?"

"None of your goddamn business. I go to the school—I have every right to park my car on the street outside a dorm."

"From the surveillance footage, you looked very upset. Would you mind explaining to me what had you so angry?"

"My girlfriend has been acting stupid lately, and I was just venting to myself."

"Can you say any more about that?"

"No, and don't ask."

"Relationship problems?"

"I said don't ask."

"What is your girlfriend's name?"

"Makoto."

"Makoto what?"

"Makoto Niijima."

"And is she also a student at the Academy?"

"Yes."

"And how long have the two of you been dating?"

"Three months. And I told you, I don't want to talk about it."

"Does she have any friends living in that dorm?"

"No."

"Was Miss Niijima in that dorm at the time you were parked out front?"

"No."

There was a pause in the audio. Detective Naabe remembers thinking how sure he was that Mr. Watanabe was lying to him about that, and how he had contemplated what follow-up question was wisest to ask. He could easily check with the front desk's guest registry to find out for sure if she'd been there that night—if he thought it was worth the effort.

"Do you have any friends that live in that dorm?"

"No."

"Do you know Yosuke Imahara?"

"Who?"

"You don't know Mister Imahara?"

"No."

"How about Shinji Ito?"

"Nope."

"Satoshi Tojamura?"

"Also no." There was a pause in the audio. "Anyone else? You don't want to ask me about any other random assholes?"

Dick, thought the detective, remembering this part of the conversation. He hoped Mr. Watanabe had to deal with individuals as uncooperative as himself once he was out of the Academy.

"No, Mister Watanabe, that's everyone I wanted to ask you about. Can you tell me where you went after you left the dormitory?"

"I went home."

"Straight home? Or did you make any stops on the way?"

"Straight home."

"Do you have any housemates?"

"No, I have my own place."

"Is there anyone who can vouch for you that that's where you were?"

"Your mom."

"Are you toying with me, Mister Watanabe?"

"You're sharp, Officer."

"That's 'Detective'."

"Whatever. Are we done? I have shit to do today."

Detective Naabe could hear himself sighing on the recording. "No, Mister Watanabe, that will be all for now. Please be careful, and don't go out at night—there's a killer on the loose, after all."

"So I've heard. Find him soon, or my uncle will have your ass."

Detective Naabe clicked off the tape recorder. Watanabe… He'd double-checked, just to be sure, but it was, in fact, true—it was an unfortunate coincidence that it just had to be the same family as the Chief. He would need to be very careful about how he worded this in the records.

The detective pulled up the incident report that had been initiated by the jogger. Scrolling to the bottom, he prepared his narrative of the followup:

Followup phone call by Det. H Naabe, 2022/05/04, 10:08am
Questioned T. Watanabe re:his behavior in vehicle on 2022/04/29 approx. 11pm—Watanabe reports that he was 'venting' about girlfriend. Asked about relationship to deceased, Y. Imahara, and friends, S. Ito and S. Tojamura—Watanabe denied knowing them. T. Watanabe also reports his girlfriend, Makoto Niijima, was not present and does not know Imahara, Ito, or Tojamura. Watanabe reports going home immediately after leaving dorm.

The detective contemplated whether to include mention of the protective order, but decided against it—there was already a paper trail about that, so there would be little utility in mentioning it here. Pointing out that there was no solid alibi for Watanabe on the night of the murder wouldn't go over very well either.

Besides, it sounded like the detective's mom could vouch for him anyway.

—Friday, May 6th, Morning—

Just as Sae had said, being away from something you love makes you appreciate it that much more when you finally get to see it again, so the sisters spent as much time as they could just being with one another. They went out on the town, enjoying the sorts of activities that they'd always wanted to do together, but had never made the time for. They visited Seaside Park and Miura Beach, went shopping together in Jinbocho, and ate out once a day, at least, not counting their frequent trips to Leblanc.

She also made sure to tell Sae everything she knew about what happened at the party, what happened with Ren and Tetsuo the following morning, and what became of the beer and her visit to the police. Her sister advised her about how to prepare for her court date, and told her it sounded like there was plenty of evidence to ensure that it went smoothly. Makoto didn't bring up the part about spending the night at Ren's dorm, but other than that, her sister got the whole story.

By the end, the days had gone more quickly than she'd thought they would, and she soon found herself speeding back towards Utsunomiya.

She could see her friends waiting on the platform for her as her train pulled up, and instantly, she was back in this life.

Stepping off the train, Naomi ran up to hug her. "Ohhh, we missed you so much!" she cried. "Poor Emiko has been bored stiff, I've been such a lousy housemate."

"She really, really has," agreed Emiko, coming in for a hug of her own. "Hi Mako-chan, welcome home."

"Hi guys," said Makoto, affectionately. "I had a great time, but it's good to be back."

"Do you have time for breakfast before you meet the locksmith?" asked Emiko.

"Not really—I ate already anyway," she said, holding up what looked like a to-go box.

"Oh well. Let's just get you home then," said Emiko.

"I bet it'll feel really good to get back into your house," said Naomi.

Yes, thought Makoto. It would feel good. The time had finally come to get her life back, and she could start dealing with Tetsuo from a place of strength.

Between walking and shuttles, the trip back to their part of town gave them lots of time to catch up, though it seemed like the week had really only been about one thing: Naomi's developing relationship with Jiro, and how much time the three of them had spent together over the last few days. "It's almost like you've been replaced, Mako-chan… except for the sex stuff." Naomi did carry on.

They made it back to her place an hour before the locksmith was due to arrive. They stayed with her while she unpacked her bags—she did have gifts for them, after all. For Emiko, she had some body cream that she'd picked up at the day spa, and a bag of Panama Esmerelda Geisha coffee beans from Leblanc. For Naomi, some Salvadoran Pacamara beans, and a Hello Kitty doll wearing a shirt that said I ❤ Tokyo. As expected, it was a big hit.

Her friends left with about twenty minutes to spare, so she decided to send Ren a text. With a flounce, she sat down on the couch and pulled out her phone.

I'm home

It was just a few seconds before he replied.

Welcome back
How's your house look? Undisturbed?

As far as I can tell, but I haven't been through every square inch of it yet. Emiko and Naomi just left

When is the locksmith coming?

About 20mins
I still have to call a handyman about my stupid pantry…

How bad is it?

I'm not sure… this isn't really my area…

Can you tell if there's anything actually broken, or is it just off the track?

Checking… Makoto stood up and walked into the kitchen.
Uhhh… The track is bent, and the metal thingie that screws into the door is hanging off of it

Does it look broken?

Makoto stood up on a chair to get a better look. Looks like the screws got yanked out of the screw holes. There are bits of splinters sticking out

That's not hard to fix

Not for a handyman, I'm sure
But I don't know what to do

There was a longer than normal pause, and she deliberated whether or not she should ask him to come fix it for her. She hoped he would offer, so she wouldn't have to ask.

I bet I won't even be able to get anyone to come out today…
And that's assuming I can even track down a number to call
Probably have to read a bunch of stupid Yelp reviews…

It seemed for a moment like that wasn't going to catch any fish. Then, he texted back:

Sigh

…?
'Sigh'?
Something you'd like to say?

Far be it from me to ever challenge your feminine agency by offering to help you
…
…
…
… But do you want me to just come over and fix it for you?

Score. OMG yasss

Uh, Naomi?
Give Makoto back her phone

I was trying to sound more like the kind of girl who loves asking for help
^_^
[insert heart emoji...]
…
I don't know any other cute emojis…

Maybe she gives lessons
Anyway, fine
Lemme get a shower first, then I'll come over
Do you have any tools?

I have a box full of basic stuff under the sink

Wood glue?

Ummm, maybe?

*White* glue?

I have glue… I don't know what kind

Whatever, I'll see what you have
Anyway, showering

Terrific
See you in a bit

Makoto put her phone away and took a deep breath. She was elated. She was nervous. Ren was coming.

—

"I'm taking a shower. Don't lock me out."

Jiro barely glanced in his direction—he was too busy shooting Nazis to look up. "Going somewhere? I thought we'd grown comfortable with one another's stench."

"Makoto's pantry is fucked up, and she wants me to take a look at it."

"Is that code? Did 'pantry' become sexual slang, and I missed it…?"

"Jesus Christ, Jiro, no, it's just a fucking pantry. Tetsuo broke it, and she doesn't think she'll be able to get a handyman to come out, so I offered to help."

"How gentlemanly. Or are you planning to charge her a fee, since this visit is purely for professional services rendered?"

Ren sighed, ripping his towel from off the hook on the wall. "Just let me back in when I knock, will you please?"

"Can't you see I'm storming the beaches at Normandy? Just leave it open…"

Ren watched Jiro's rifle bob up and down as he ran across the dark screen. "I don't even know how you can see anything on that dinky-ass TV."

"It's basically all muscle memory at this point. Really though, just leave it open. If I have to get up, I'll lose my zen."

Ren rolled his eyes and grabbed the rest of his things, opening the door and leaving it ajar just as he'd been instructed. Down the hall on the right, past the elevator, was the communal bathroom. Inside were several showers, toilets, and a handful of laundry machines. Also: A coin-operated condom dispenser. He walked right past the condoms and toward the nearest shower stall. Stepping inside, he draped his towel over the door, and his laundry bag on a hook outside. He then got undressed, stripping off the sweats and T-shirt he'd been wearing and reaching over the door to put them in the bag.

Ren turned on the water, keeping just outside of the blast zone until it had time to warm up. Less than a minute later, he stepped into the spray, soaking himself from head to toe. He closed his eyes, letting the water wash over his face, before leaning forward with his palms flat against the tile wall. He just stood there, thinking.

I'm just going to fix the fucking pantry. That's all she wants me to do. We might talk for a bit, but that's it. The likelihood that she'll want to suck your dick again is…

Ren opened his eyes and stood up abruptly, rubbing his hands over his face, his eyes, and his mop of wet, black hair. He felt a strong urge to pace, but the stall was too cramped. He suddenly remembered he had soap in his bath kit—time to use it. Pulling out a bottle of 'Alpine Wood'-scented body wash, he squirted a generous helping into his palm and began by smearing it on his chest and under his armpits, followed by his stomach.

She kissed you there, he thought. Remember how her lips felt on your—

—Stop. Just stop. His mind argued with itself. There was no utility in thinking about any of that. Sure, the last time he'd seen her, she had surprised him, but she was going through a lot. Nothing about her situation was comparable to how it normally was, so her past behavior couldn't be extrapolated to the present. Don't try to predict anything, don't expect her to behave the same way. For all you know, she really regrets kissing you. Don't think that just because she stripped your clothes off last time, and ran her fingers down your chest, and—

…God dammit. His dick was hard.

"Fuck…" he whispered, frustrated. He would have to jerk off in the communal showers…

Just to see if anyone else was in there, he bent over and peeked under the stall partitions. Two other people: One guy standing in front of a urinal would probably be out of there soon. Another guy was taking a shit.

But he was all the way across the bathroom from where Ren was, so he decided to risk it. Let's just make this quick… With his soapy hand, he gripped himself firmly and began to tug.

Stroking rhythmically, he imagined her looking at him, a needy expression on her face. Pulling her skirt higher, showing him her thighs. Bending over far enough that he could see her cleavage through the neck of her blouse. Her hand in his hair.

He definitely wasn't thinking about the dude taking a shit over there.

He gritted his teeth and stroked faster. Makoto's ass in lacy panties… Her lips on his neck… A toilet flushing.

Ren grunted involuntarily and decided to take another look under the partition. That guy was finally leaving. Thank god… he thought, and let his mind wander back to those images of Makoto, undistracted by any bowel movements across the way. At last, he was able to come. With a contented sigh, he squirted some more body wash into his hands and rubbed down the rest of his body. He rinsed off, making sure that his semen made it all the way down the drain.

Ren dried himself off, wrapped his towel around his waist, grabbed his stuff, and padded back to his room. He pushed the door open and put his things back in his closet.

Jiro was there, manning a turret. "Well… That seemed like a pretty long shower…" he drawled.

Son of a bitch.

—

Ren stepped off the shuttle and walked the few blocks north and west that it took to get to her house. He texted her to say 'Just got off the shuttle', but he got no reply—she was probably busy with the locksmith. When he finally got to her courtyard entrance, his suspicions were confirmed.

"Here are your new keys," a man was saying, speaking to Makoto through the open front door.

"Thank you," said Makoto. "You did the back door too, right?"

"That's right. Is it okay if I send the bill in the mail?"

"Yes, that's fine. Thank you very much."

"You have a terrific day, miss. Take care, and thanks for your business."

"Good day," she said, and the locksmith turned around, offering a polite nod to Ren as he passed.

Makoto and Ren looked at each other. Ren was standing there, in jeans and a black-and-white T-shirt, with his hands stuffed in his pockets. His glasses obscured his eyes.

"Glad you could make it," she said. "Come on in." She opened the door wider, offering him entry.

"Nice to see you," he said, stepping past her and into the living room. He stopped in front of the couch, feeling it necessary to make some small talk before heading straight for her pantry. "All secure now?"

"I suppose so," she said. "Not that a locked door would really keep someone out who was hell bent on getting in, but I wouldn't want it to be easy."

"Does he know there's an order of protection pending against him?"

"I haven't told him, no. So far there have just been the few texts he's sent, which he's allowed me to studiously ignore—I've been optimistic that maybe he's cooled off a bit and I can safely avoid interacting with him at all. Contacting him to rub it in his face that I obtained a temporary restraining order feels a little like poking the bear."

"Hmm, well, I hate to say this, but unless he knows that there are actual legal consequences for busting in here, he may not be deterred by a locked door."

Makoto frowned. "You may be right," she admitted reluctantly. "The next time he sends me something, I'll let him know."

"What exactly has he said to you up to this point?"

"Here, I'll show you." Makoto pulled out her phone and opened her text thread with Tetsuo, letting him see it.

Ren read the messages from the last week. He stared blankly at the screen. "'I'm still willing to take you back'…" he read aloud, letting the nonsensical words fall out of his mouth. He knit his brows in perplexity. "Does he think you're the one who fucked up? The hell is wrong with this guy—does he have brain damage?"

"Emiko said literally that exact thing," said Makoto, taking her phone back.

"Well, one wonders," he replied facetiously. "But you're right: At least he hasn't sounded too pushy. It's probably fine to keep ignoring those and just reply if he contacts you again."

Makoto just nodded, and there was a small lull in the conversation. Unable to abide such a thing, Ren segued into his purpose for being there. "So, your pantry…"

"Yes, my pantry…" said Makoto, clapping her hands together. The two of them wandered from the living room to the kitchen, and Ren finally got a good look at what had become of Makoto's pantry door. Ren could see the little bit of metal dangling from the track at the top, and the door itself was hanging off from the left side where it was still attached. There were some jagged splinters sticking up from the door where the metal had been ripped out.

"Got a step ladder?"

"In the pantry," she answered, reaching under the sink for her toolbox and setting it on the kitchen counter.

Ren found the step ladder and set it up just outside the entry. Climbing up, he was able to get a good look at the problem. "Yeah, the wood's a little bit damaged from where the screws were torn out, but it's fixable. The track can be bent back into shape too—none of this is worth calling a handyman for."

"Well, thank god for that," she said, opening up one of her cabinets and reaching inside. "And here, not to make you do more stuff for me, but I actually got these as a gift for you, and you probably want to be the one preparing them." She set a fancy-looking bag of coffee beans down on the counter for him to examine.

Ren squinted at the bag, not believing what he was seeing. "Is that Brazilian Bourbon? Did you get that from Sojiro?"

"I told him I wanted to buy a different blend for each of my friends, and Sojiro insisted I give you this. He said you'd appreciate it."

"I do!" he exclaimed. "I just can't believe he gave you this—it's very expensive. He taught me how to brew it, of course, but he would never just give it to me to drink—said he didn't want to waste the good stuff on 'the help'."

"Well, I guess he's changed his mind—he wouldn't even accept payment for it," she said, offering him a smile. "This is yours, but I don't want to brew it for you—I'll ruin it."

"I'm sure you wouldn't ruin it," he said.

"Well, I'm sure it would be drinkable, but I know you could do so much more with it." She paused. "Why don't we get it brewing before you get started?"

"Sounds good," he said, climbing down from the step ladder. Makoto stepped away from the beans and excused herself to sit at the table.

"You don't actually have a coffee maker at your place, do you," she asked, though it wasn't really a question—she knew the answer.

"No, I don't," he said, opening the bag carefully, so as not to spill any beans on the counter. "I've spent the last month drinking dining commons coffee. Starbucks actually tastes good to me now."

"Oh, you poor thing," she teased—she liked Starbucks coffee. "The grinder is in the cabinet above the coffee maker."

"This is the wrong kind of coffee maker for this, but it'll have to do," he said, reaching for the grinder.

"Sorry, I know you're used to really bourgeois coffee-making gear, but don't complain. This is better than the dining commons."

He wholeheartedly agreed. "Way better."

Once the beans were ground and the coffee maker was on autopilot, Ren went back to his other job. "Got any toothpicks?"

"Toothpicks?" she asked, confused. "Is this for the coffee?"

"No, it's for the door. The screw holes are too wide for the screws to grab, but if we backfill them with toothpicks it'll work just fine."

"Really, that works? Sounds pretty scroungy…"

"Oh, it is, but it'll work, trust me."

"Cabinet next to the fridge," she answered, pointing. "And did you say something about glue before?"

"Oh, yeah, dropping a little glue in the holes will help cement everything together, but it's probably not necessary."

"I have some in my desk, if you think it would help. Should I go get it?"

"If you like," he answered, pulling the box of toothpicks from the cabinet.

"If it'll help get my pantry back into tip-top condition, I'll get it. I'm a team player."

Ren chuckled and watched her leave to get the glue. So far this visit, he'd been unable to hear the words 'my pantry' without thinking of something else entirely. Goddamn Jiro.

Makoto returned in short order and handed him the bottle of glue. It was better than Elmer's, but not exactly the right thing for the job. Still, it was better than nothing, and it would at least dry quickly. He added a few drops to each screw hole, and a little bit under each of the bigger splinters, pressing them back into place. He then inserted one toothpick after another into the too-wide holes, snapping off the protruding bits of wood as he went.

"Coffee's ready," said Makoto, nodding to the machine.

"Terrific, this could use a minute to set anyway." He climbed down from the step ladder and went over to the cabinet where he knew she kept the coffee mugs, pulling two out. Turning to the coffee maker, he poured each of them a cup and brought hers to her at the table. Together, they each took a sip.

"Mmm, delicious, thank you," she said, savoring the taste.

Ren nodded. "Not bad," he said, evaluating it. "The acidity's not quite right, but this is by far the best cup of coffee I've had in over a month."

"Tastes just like Sojiro's," she said, winking at him.

"I wouldn't go that far," he said, taking another sip. "Anyway, thank you. This is very comforting to drink."

"I'm glad," she said, offering him a sweet smile before hiding it behind her mug.

There were another few seconds of peace as each of them drank quietly, from opposite ends of the kitchen, but Ren could feel that familiar tension beginning to creep back in. They used to be able to sit together in the same space, quietly enjoying a meal or a cup of coffee, without speaking, and without it feeling awkward. He wondered if they would ever be able to get back to that.

He set his mug down on the counter. "Well, let's take a look at that track," he said, rummaging around in her toolbox, looking for something he could use to bend the metal back into place. He had a choice between snub-nose pliers and a standard adjustable wrench. Neither was ideal. He grabbed both.

Makoto watched him while he worked, sipping away at her Brazilian Bourbon. He tried not to think about how it felt knowing her eyes were on him as he climbed back up the ladder with his tools.

"Don't be too critical," he said, adjusting the wrench. "Neither of these tools is quite right for this."

"It's the poor carpenter who blames his tools," she said wryly.

"Mmm," he hummed, setting the wrench to the metal and bending it part way back into place. The wrench provided a good amount of mechanical advantage, but was too bulky to get the lip of the track into quite the right place. He stuck it into his back pocket and switched to the pliers. They were shorter, and didn't have a terrific grip on the metal, but with enough twisting and pinching, he was able to mold the track back into more or less of a 'U' shape. "Okay, I think that's the best I can do here," he said, climbing back down.

"This is hypnotic," she said, joking.

"I bet," he said, trading the tools for a screwdriver and taking another sip of coffee before climbing back up. He took the dangling hardware off of the track, careful not to lose any of the screws that were hanging out of it, and placed it on the top of the door. As he turned the screws into the toothpick-stuffed holes, they gripped firmly. Metal roller thus reattached, he was able to hang it from the repaired track, and all was returned to its original state. "Voilà," he said, adding just a touch of jazz hands.

"Well, look at that," she said, impressed. "What do I owe you?"

"Another cup of this coffee," he said, joining her at the table.

Leaning over, she inspected the contents of his mug. "You're not actually done with that one, or I would get it right now."

"I meant later," he said. "I'm good for now."

"Is there something else I can do for you then?"

Ren took a long drink from his mug. Was he imagining things, or was that question loaded with an unusually high level of subtext? He took another long sip.

Clearing his throat a bit, he stood up from the table. "You know what? It's fine, I can get my own refills," he said, wandering back into the kitchen. Makoto followed him.

Before he could pull the coffee pot from the machine, she stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Ren, it's okay," she said.

He had no words. Staring into her unflinching eyes, he thought he knew what she was talking about, but what in god's name that meant he was supposed to do, he had no idea.

And Makoto could tell. It was time to tear off the band-aid.

"What we did last week? What I did to you?" she began. "That was a gift—to me. There was something I needed, and I took it, and you let me take it. And I'm grateful—I finally feel awake. And I look at you, and I see that fire in your eyes, and… I know it isn't just me…"

He took a step back, though it wasn't a retreat.

"So I want you to take what you want," she said. "It's fine, I consent, just hurry up and do it because I'm so desperate for you to fuck me that I'm starting to lose my mind. I can't think about anything else… I can tell you're not asleep, but you have to get out of bed."

She could see it on his face. His façade was cracking. The fire in his eyes was spreading. She was getting through to him.

"Before, I thought I felt… Johanna," he said.

"You did. I felt her too. I hadn't felt her in a long time, painfully long, and when I finally got her back, it was like being reborn. I know yours is in there too. He's not even hiding. I know the man who sleeps with a knife strapped to his ankle hasn't forgotten who he is. You've just been holding him back, and I'm telling you, you don't have to keep doing that."

He took a step closer. Then another. Soon, he was standing right in front of her, close enough that they could smell one another. "Are you sure you know what you're asking?" he said.

"Of course I do," she said, resisting the urge to reach for him—she wanted him to come to her. "I know who you are." Fraught with anticipation, she took a shaky breath. She braced herself.

And then it came. Gently but fiercely, he took her face in his hands and kissed her, not holding back. Their insides ignited as their tongues danced together, a conflagration so hot it might consume them both. She gasped in her throat as he took what he wanted.

Advancing, he pushed her toward the bit of wall next to the pantry, into the very spot Tetsuo had pinned him a week ago. Against Ren's grasp, however, she did not resist. She arched her back, pressing herself further into him.

He sucked on her ears and neck, and his hands moved down her sides. He slipped one hand under her blouse to feel the skin on her waist, the other cupped her breast through the fabric. That blouse would have to go. Frustrated by the delayed gratification, he fiddled with the first of the buttons.

Breathlessly, she urged him on. "Don't hold back," she said. "Just do it."

With a grunt, he took her blouse in both hands and ripped it open, sending buttons cascading all over the kitchen floor. Instantly, his mouth was on her, tasting the space between her breasts, nudging his way under the fabric of her bra.

She managed to shrug the rest of the way out of her blouse, and slipped a hand behind herself to unhook her bra. With a satisfied moan, he pulled a strap off one of her shoulders and freed her breasts, sucking on them, running the flat part of his tongue over her nipples, feeling their firmness cut a path across his taste buds.

Topless and gasping, Makoto reveled in what he was doing to her. He was taking, and it felt so satisfying to let him just take. She wanted him to take even more. To take everything.

His fingers pulled at the top of her pants as he kissed her belly and chewed on her waist, but the lower he went, the more difficult it became to get at all the parts of her that he wanted. Kneeling on the kitchen floor did not appeal to him. It was time to change venues.

Wrapping his arms around her legs, he stood all the way up, lifting her over his shoulder like a full sack of laundry. He carried her out of the kitchen and through the living room, and she took the opportunity to let her bra fall completely by the wayside as they went.

Ren pushed open the bedroom door and went straight for the neatly made bed. Bending over, he deposited her on the mattress and went immediately to the task of unbuttoning her pants. She kicked off her shoes in anticipation of what he wanted, and he easily pulled her pants down the rest of the way.

Pausing just for a moment, he stopped to take in the sight of her, fully naked, splayed out on her bed, there for his taking. She squirmed under his gaze, pleading with him to hurry up and come back to her. She was so wet, so desperate for him to get on with it, she was afraid she was getting selfish. This was supposed to be his turn to do whatever he wanted, but she could feel herself getting greedy. Letting him just stand there, watching her writhe in agony—it was killing her. Please hurry.

"Mmmm," she moaned, spreading her legs encouragingly and squeezing her own breasts. He removed his glasses and pulled his shirt off over his head, tossing both to the floor before diving in for a taste. With his knees on the floor and his upper body supported by the mattress, he wrapped his arms under and around her legs and held her to his face. He penetrated her with his tongue, eliciting cries of pleasure from Makoto that were music to his ears. He thrust deeper, feeling the slick insides of her walls, drinking of her. She was sweet, and soft, and delicious. And he wanted more.

He unfastened the button of his pants and pushed them down past his ass. Standing up, his erection was in full view, and her eyes lit up as she watched him kick off his shoes and shrug the rest of the way out of his jeans.

"Oh yes… please…" she begged greedily.

Climbing on top of her, he thrust himself into her with complete abandon. She cried out in ecstasy, encouraging him to plunge even deeper. He sucked on her breasts on his way to her collarbone, eventually letting his torso flatten itself on top of her, smashing her breasts against him. His hands moved into her hair.

He grunted into her ear. "I want to pull on your hair," he said.

She nodded vigorously, imploring him to take without asking. Beginning at the base of her skull, he combed his fingers up through her hair, taking a fistful and pulling firmly. He thrust rhythmically into her as she arched her back, and she couldn't help but to scream. It was primal, and it was necessary. She didn't want what he was doing to her to ever stop. His breathing started to change, and she could tell he was close.

"Come in me," she whispered. "Please, I need it."

Primitive noises escaped his lips as he thrust faster, harder, his grip on her hair tightening. She spread her legs wide, allowing his pelvis to grind into her clit as he thrust his way to completion. Just as he began unraveling into her, she reached her own peak and they came down together, gasping in unison.

He collapsed onto her, breathing into her hair, unwinding it from around his fingers. Panting, they spent some time catching their breath. As he became more aware, he started to shift his weight off of her, but at that, she wrapped her legs tighter around him to hold him in place. "Not yet," she whispered. He was still inside her, and she wanted to keep it that way for a bit longer.

He nodded, kissing her cheek just in front of her ear, as he let himself relax more fully on top of her. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Mmhmm," she hummed back in acknowledgment.

They stayed like this for several minutes, basking in their post-coital exhaustion. Eventually, Ren started to feel cold from the sweat beaded up all over his back, and he shivered.

"You okay?" whispered Makoto sweetly.

"Fi—" the word caught in his throat, and he had to stop to clear it. "Fine. Just cold. I think I could use another shower."

"Mmmm," she groaned, loath to let him go, but she could also feel the need for a bit of cleaning up. "Fiiiine," she whined, unfurling her legs from around his backside.

Slowly, he pulled up and out of her, shakily standing up at the foot of the bed. He couldn't help staring at her: Her hair was a mess, he'd left bite marks on her sides, and there was semen dribbling out of her. "Jesus," he remarked, "You should see yourself right now."

"I must look either really good or really bad," she said.

"It's a good kind of bad," he replied truthfully. "I sort of wrecked you… Sorry."

"I'm sure it's nothing a shower can't fix," she said, sitting up. More semen leaked out of her, and she hastily stood up. She looked at the mess on her comforter. "Well, I needed to do laundry anyway."

Ren bent over, tugging off his socks and unbuckling the sheath for his stiletto, leaving it all on the bedroom floor. Walking into the bathroom, he turned on the shower and gave it a minute to warm up.

"Can I join you?" asked Makoto from the open doorway. "You're not the only one who needs to wash off all the sex…"

Ren chuckled. "I guess that's fair." Even in her disheveled state, he still thought she looked stunning.

Now that his head was clear again, there was a practical concern he needed to address, awkward though it seemed. "Hey, uh, by the way…"

"What?" she asked, forehead creased.

"Do we need to be concerned about, uh…?" he pointed vaguely from himself to her and back again. It took her a second, but she finally decoded what he was getting at.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "No, we don't. I use birth control pills to regulate my periods, so no, we're good."

"Okay, that's good to know. You did tell me to come in you, so I figured you had that part worked out, but I just wanted to be sure."

"Thanks for worrying," she said with a smirk.

Once the water was ready, he stepped into the tub and let the spray wash over his chest and face. She got in behind him, running her fingers through the runoff down his back.

His dick twitched. "Jesus, woman, can you give me ten minutes?" he said sarcastically. She laughed, hugging him from behind. Once he was satisfied that he'd cleaned his front half well enough, he turned around, returning the hug and letting the spray run over his ass.

She kissed his shoulder, letting her fingers explore the ridges of muscle along his back as she held him.

They swayed gently together under the hot water for a few seconds, just enjoying the closeness. "Glad I'm back?" she asked, looking up at him.

He huffed in amusement. "Yes, I am," he said, kissing her sweetly on the lips. Without letting her go, he rotated the two of them around until she was under the spray, encouraging her to get clean. She combed her fingers through her hair as the water beat down on her head, and she started to look more like herself.

He looked her over, grimacing when his eyes reached her waist. "I don't think even a shower will remove those," he said, indicating the bite marks on her side. "Sorry."

She looked down at herself. "Ha! Oh wow, you really got me," she said, just seeing the marks for the first time. "No big deal," she said. "No bikinis for a week, that's all. Your neck is looking a lot better though."

He put his hand to his throat. "Yeah, the bruises are pretty much all gone."

She looked apologetically at him. "I'm so sorry that happened to you."

"It was worth it to see you knock him on his ass. Seriously. That was priceless," he said, leaning in for another kiss.

She met his chaste kiss with an open mouth, and put her fingers in his hair. He moaned slightly, moving his hand to her waist to pull her just a little bit closer. Encouraging him to go further, she mashed her breasts into his torso and deepened the kiss.

It had been more than ten minutes. Once again fully erect, he pressed his cock into her belly and held her there, rhythmically grinding it into her as they kissed. Makoto moaned, breaking the kiss and turning around. Placing her hands on the tile wall in front of her, she leaned over, offering herself to him.

"Oh fuck," he said, grabbing her by the hips and thrusting into her once more. She cried out, then moaned as he slid himself in and out. This time was slower, more deliberate—just as desperate, but different. He watched her writhe in front of him as he fucked her, the water coursing down her spine. She had dimples over each side of her ass where it met her back—they were the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. He placed his thumbs in the divots as he held her there, fucking her gently.

Makoto reached up for her showerhead and pulled it from its cradle, focusing it on her clit as he moved inside her. As her own orgasm approached, her pussy tightened around him and he was once again unmade. Panting heavily, he steadied himself against the wall with one arm, holding her to him with the other.

Carefully, she pulled away from him and returned the showerhead to the wall. Standing up straight, she went to him for another kiss.

They pulled apart once the kiss was over. "I think it's time to get out," he said, squeezing her hand.

"Mmm, fine," she said, turning off the water. Throwing back the curtain revealed a bathroom filled with foggy air and dripping with condensation. She stepped out of the tub and reached for the towels, handing him one, then cracked the window over the toilet to vent the room, and they both dried themselves off.

Back in the bedroom, Ren collected his clothes, beginning with his T-shirt and his glasses, followed by his knife. "I don't usually sleep with this on, you know," he said, gesturing to his weapon.

"No?"

"No, that was a one-time thing. It's not as if I expect to be accosted in my sleep," he said, pulling his jeans on.

"You expect to be accosted during the day?" she asked jokingly, stepping into her own pants.

"No, I don't, but I…" he wasn't sure how to finish that sentence.

"You just feel more like you when you have it on."

He considered her suggestion. "Yeah, I do."

"I think I understand," she said. "And I suspect that it's helped you… stay you." She shrugged, opening her wardrobe to fish out a new bra and top to wear. "Over the last two years, I felt like I've slowly lost myself, trying to be the person that other people preferred over the person I actually was. A physical reminder of that other self would've… kept her close by."

Ren didn't know what to say to that. Makoto slipped her bra on and turned to look at him. She smiled appreciatively at him, knowing that his return to her life had played a role in her reawakening. His arrival was like a mirror, letting her look critically at the person she'd become, and reminding her what she'd let slip away.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, straightening the cream-colored long-sleeve T-shirt she'd just put on. "I brought more back for you than just coffee beans, you know."

Smiling affectionately at her, he nodded twice and followed her as she guided him back into the kitchen.