Takes place after Vol 7, Part 5, and almost definitely probably disregards whatever is to come in Part 6 which releases in 22 minutes.


At the tail end of our booze-fueled discussions in the hotel's sky lounge, I was pretty tipsy and Toriko was sloshed.

To our right was the glass wall that looked out over the city—as much as could be seen, four floors up, but it was still definitely pretty—and a few seats that had been taken when we arrived. Toriko and I were situated in about the center of the room, close to the bar. At first, Toriko sat facing the bar, in a leather love seat and had patted the space next to her. Not long ago, at my strong suggestions, we moved her to the opposite side, a high-backed leather sofa, for the purpose of taking her eyes off the booze. As she was somewhat sprawled out and I was also worn out, I took the chair caddy corner to her and that's where we were now.

Checking my phone, it was 11:26 pm. We'd met for dinner at 7:30, came up to the lounge around 9, and been drinking since, not to mention hashing things out. I honestly kind of…wanted to leave and go to bed. It was still early for sleeping on a normal day, but this was not a normal day. Stressing over what to wear and what to say and then the actual dinner and drinks was about as energy-consuming as encountering entities in the Otherside. Was that an awful thing to think? Whatever; I wasn't used to this kind of thing!

As for Toriko…she seemed ready to go too. Since moving to the sofa, she only leaned forward to reach her drink—some kind of orange cocktail—and was otherwise pretty recumbent. In the last few minutes, she seemed to become agitated too, fidgeting with an irritated look marring her pretty features and toying with her half-gloved fingers. In the dim lighting of the lounge, her translucent hand glittered subtly.

I saw her eyes catch the light of my phone before I locked it so maybe she saw the time too and was thinking it was time to end? Instead of saying anything to that effect, though, she sighed in a semi-furtive way, continued glancing around, pouted, and then mumbled something to herself.

Actually…was she really alright?

"Toriko?"

A barely audible mumble: "…don't wanna…"

"What?"

Moving like her head was heavy, Toriko looked at me. Her eyes appeared hazy and somewhat intense at the same time. She was very drunk but trying to focus. I waited patiently and she said, "Will you come home with me?"

Whoa, what?

We both knew well that neither of us was at all keen on sharing our home spaces with anyone else. It was kind of a significant relief to me that Toriko felt that same way as I did about this. So, what the hell was this…

"Um…" As I grappled for a response—well, a refusal—Toriko's look darkened. She had sat forward and her shoulders were slightly hunched, with, by some kind of magic, the jacket still covering them, its sleeves hanging as emptily and gracefully as ever. But it also looked kind of forlorn, or was that impression coming from her face. Her expression had settled on one that looked fairly miserable. I was reminded of Kozakura, too afraid to go home alone, asking me to accompany her. That time, and even though I was largely to blame for her fright, I still refused to go. But if it's Toriko looking like this, and asking me…

But why?

During my elongated silence, Toriko's glance slid away slowly, landed on her drink, and she finished it. A tiny droplet slipped from the corner of her lips and she daubed it away with a fingertip, eyes glassy and staring far away now. Still, her fingers tapped against themselves, returned to her lap, like she was anxious about something.

Us getting drunk and parting ways at the station was nothing new, but maybe this was different. Maybe Toriko's state was more fragile tonight and I did have a responsibility to see her home safely. Was that why she wanted me to go with her, though? Doubt. But what could I say…

I settled with the bartender and got a cab called.

In the cab, I pushed water on Toriko, not letting her space out out the window till she'd drunk half. That accomplished, she leaned close to the glass, eyes half open, one hand curled in her lap and the other cast like it was forgotten beside her on the seat. I thought, if it was me sitting there, she would take that hand of mine and hold it in hers. Rather than doing that, I thought.

It probably wasn't as wild a progression of events as I'd first felt, Toriko asking me to return home with her. A lot, a lot had happened since she first came over to my apartment to help with the oddity in Apt 103. Given how brazen she was in other areas, it perhaps shouldn't be surprising she could invite me over now, would want to. And still, given her state right now, I had no reason to believe it was for any reason other than… Well, it sounds nuts to me to think this, but it must be true: Toriko is comforted by my presence; as I am by hers. It was our anniversary, and a lot of hard things also came up. She's drunk and feeling poorly, and wants me there.

This was all just guesses.

The other, obvious idea that came to mind didn't seem likely, that this was Toriko coming on to me. I didn't think so; not with the face she'd made.

Asking her was, of course, an option, but I didn't really feel tempted. I'd already accepted, I was doing what she asked, and it was all going to be fine. How nervous and awkward could I be when Toriko was the one totally drunk? She probably wouldn't notice any blunders or fidgeting I made.

Still, was that really a good explanation? Maybe it was…the phenomenon of, take a real scaredy-cat. By themselves, they're scared and they can't do anything. But if you add a friend of that scaredy-cat beside them, someone who's even more easily frightened, the first friend will often step up, feel less afraid, and try to take care of the other. So I'd read. Friendships are apparently incredible. Well, maybe I'd experienced something like this firsthand with Toriko and all our messed up, terrifying experiences. And so maybe that's what this was again: Toriko's just like I am when it comes to not wanting to invite people over, but this time, she did and since I get it and can empathize that this must be somehow important to her, I can do it. Was that the same thing? I'd been drinking too…

Well. Also. She only asked me to go home with her, not stay the night. And as I had nothing on me speaking to being prepared for that…

"Toriko. Hey."

Partially obscured by blades of blonde, Toriko's indigo eyes slid in my direction.

"Um, I'll walk you up, okay? And then head back on my own. I mean, it's not like I can sleep in this."

Her eyes shut for a nap as she answered, "You can borrow some of my mine."

When the cab stopped in front of Toriko's building and I was getting out my wallet, Toriko suddenly lurched up and grabbed my arm. Startled, I then realized she was just trying to pay herself. My protest was cut off by a sharp side eye.

On the sidewalk, Toriko wobbled a little but quickly steadied herself and proceeded to lead us up. Just as I was thinking the silence was odd, walking on the outside balcony to her door, she spoke. "Thanks…Sorawo. I didn't wanna be alone."

Ah. So that's what she meant. Well, yeah…

"It's fine…"

When she had spoken, there had appeared at last, a smile on her lips. If my being here helps her feel better, then yeah, I guess it's fine…

Stumbling out of her shoes inside, Toriko said, "You can shower first, Sorawo."

Resolutely I shook my head. "No way. You'll probably fall asleep waiting for me, so you go first." To the side of the entrance was a shoe rack, entirely full with various heels, boots, walking shoes, and all manner of footwear which both surprised me, because only one person lived here, and did not surprise me, because that person was Toriko. We left our shoes on the floor near it.

"Heh. 'Kay." One hand sliding lightly against the wall as she went, Toriko disappeared right into the bathroom, leaving me alone in the hallway.

…I had been in Toriko's apartment once before, but the effects of the interstitial space must have provided a room clearing service because this time, I saw there was actually furniture. It was simple, but definitely more stylish and comfortable looking than my place. Trying not to be obtrusive, I picked my way over to the bed…there was her desk chair at the foot of it but was slung with many articles of clothing, so I very gingerly sat on the edge of the mattress.

As the sounds of falling water played in a somewhat comforting hush from the hall, I glanced around… The covers on Toriko's bed weren't completely made, but loosely tugged up to the pillows—two pillows, for this full-sized bed. To me, it was like a bed for a princess, which of course suited Toriko perfectly. Patterned baby blue sheets and a fluffy duvet with swirling, geometric designs in white and blue. Especially remarkable was an actual headboard; it looked too short actually to cushion a head, so it must just be for looks… Quilted violet leather. No one ever said Toriko didn't have taste.

It applied to everything. Her desk by the foot of the bed was made out of pale blue glass; the chair was black and chic-looking in a minimalistic way somehow even with its pile of clothes (Those looked particularly nice too… Could it be…the results of Toriko searching for a dinner outfit?) Beside her bed was a night table in gray paint and opposite the bed a very similar-looking small table, gray paint, but with more drawers, situated there to hold a small LCD TV. Adjacent on that wall was a two-level metal clothing rack, packed full; it looked straight out of a store in Shibuya. In the corner between the bedroom and the kitchen counter was a single bar stool with a black seat; there might have been room for two, but on the ground beside it was a piece of furniture I'd never seen before. Like a table, but with two sides cut out, and a shelf in the middle; about four feet tall. It was stuffed with expedition gear and on the wall between it and the clothing rack were backpacks and locked cases presumably holding guns.

The small kitchen was standard but looked pretty up to date and clean, though the counters were all taken up with small appliances, papers, drying dishes, and spices that probably belonged in the white cabinetry. …White and floral as I spied some cute flower decals affixed here and there. I had to smile.

My toes squished into a soft white rug, situated partially underneath her bed. Otherwise the floors were a light hardwood. Looking out the sliding glass door to the balcony, various shifting lights of the town could be seen through the semi-sheer white curtains. …That was where Toriko had gone, when the windmill woman tried to take her…

Time passed, I sat, looking around, finding new things that seemed so Toriko, until I heard the door open with a rush of steam and the woman herself padded out, wrapped in nothing but a spring green towel.

To my embarrassment, I blushed. It honestly made no sense—we've seen each other naked before! But maybe it didn't help that Toriko herself was looking pretty shy too. Pausing near the counter, she announced softly, "Your turn."

"Uh, thanks." It occurred to me, since she was looking much better, I could take this moment to suggest a change of plans and get to go home after all. But I didn't and went into the bathroom…

Everything inside was white except the shower tiles which were a chic gray and the towels which were various solid colors, and the absolute mass of bottles and other whatnots cluttered around her sink. In the mirror, a full portrait-sized one, the bite mark between my neck and shoulder loomed pink with red spots. I sighed at the sight, and had a temptation to touch it, but knew it would be sore, so refrained. Moving on, taking a breath, trying not to be too conscious, of anything, I turned on the water and tried to shower quickly.

There was an assortment of available soaps. The ones I chose all smelled like Toriko.

Upon finishing, I realized I should have gotten that change of clothes first. No helping it now. Wrapping myself up in an orange towel, I exited the bathroom. Toriko was sitting exactly where I had been which was a little surprising, that she wouldn't get more comfortable in her own home. When she saw me, she smiled and dangled up a shirt and pair of shorts. Feeling embarrassed about my hair dripping water onto her floor, I padded forward to grab the clothes and was about to turn back to the bathroom to change when, with a flourish and a signature smile, Toriko covered her eyes with both hands and flopped back on her bed.

"I won't look~" She sing-songed, kicking her feet lightly over the plush rug.

Dumbfounded, I stood and continued to drip. Why couldn't I just change in the other, perfectly good room, Toriko…

…She provided a long, plain t-shirt in an olive color, the simplicity of which would probably highlight Toriko's beauty smashingly but probably looked like swamp gear on me, and sporty but soft black shorts. Also included was a pair of panties which I ignored, letting them join their brethren on her chair. I saw Toriko had hung her towel on the end of her clothing rack where the horizontal pole stuck out a bit. This I took with me back to the bathroom and hung both towels back up properly.

Hearing me moving around, Toriko asked, "Hmm? Are you done, Sorawo?"

"Yeah, I'm done."

With a big swing, Toriko sat up and we looked at each other. She was smiling, looking pretty pleased in general, not to mention almost hurtfully pretty in a pinkish-violet shirt, the exact same style as the one she gave me. ….No shorts could be seen beneath hers, though.

"Clothes okay?"

"Yeah… You seem better. Sober." Based on how she was behaving at the lounge and in the cab, I thought she would be out of it all night. That was why I agreed to come…

Maybe she realized that because she laughed in a short, shy way and kicked her feet some more. This was my first time noticing but of course even her feet were elegant and pretty… "Uh, yeah, I think I was just so out of it from everything. I am much better now." Cheerful fist pump.

Uh-huh… Once more, I thought, Does that mean I can leave? But even as I disregarded it before, it felt even less substantial now. Strangely, it didn't feel too uncomfortable being here in Toriko's apartment with her. Maybe that was only natural, seeing as how we've camped side by side and bathed together and generally spent a lot of meaningful time together now. It was our one year anniversary; about time to visit one another's places? Well, not that I really meant to invite her to mine…there was no reason to.

Gathering her legs beside herself on the bed, Toriko inquired, "You want to watch a movie? Or are you ready to sleep?"

Her taste in movies was an intriguing point… The only time we'd ever discussed movies was—well, never. Only once had Toriko mentioned one and while I remember that happening—it was while being ripped apart by the Kotoribako, one of my least favorite memories—the title was definitely lost on me. Something to do with what we were doing…puzzle solving? Being tortured?

However: "Um, I'm fine if you watch something, but, I'm pretty tired."

"Okay! Yeahh, I'm tired too. Let's sleep." So said, Toriko gestured with poking motions toward the light switch by my side. Once flipped, the room plunged into shadows for only a second before being softly illuminated by a night light at the foot of her night table. Though she probably couldn't see my grin where I was still lingering in the gloom, Toriko explained by herself, "Sometimes I don't feel like getting up to hit the light, so~" She leaned over to waggle a hand directly in front of the little light and it flicked off. Apparently it responded automatically via a sensor that was activated only at close range and in the dark. Handy.

"Sorawo, are you gonna sleep standing up? Kinda creepy…"

"You trying to get me into bed with you?"

Because it was funny to see her stiffen, blush, and then, amazingly, yelp back, "So what if I am?" With a goofy grin.

"Ha, right. I'll just…"

Ah, there's that discomfort and nervousness I was missing. The joking around made it easier but here was I, still getting into bed with Nishina Toriko. This would never make sense.

I edged over and when I came to stand at the bedside, rather anticipating Toriko to move over, she instead got under the covers right there and said, "Sorawo, you take the wall side."

"Oh, why's that? You usually sleep on just one side?" Even with such a big bed?

She shook her head and then ran a hand through her still damp bangs, pushing them back. That was an interesting look, I thought, before they fell down again. She answered, "No, it's because, this side is where doppelgänger you slept, and I want to make sure when I look back on this, I don't get the memories mixed up."

The things this woman says with a straight face… "O-kay…" I climbed over, reminding myself as I did that we've shared beds before. Not Toriko's personal bed that she slept in every night, in her personal home, but…I got this. Following her lead, I slid my legs under the pretty duvet but didn't lay down yet. "You plan on reminiscing on that, huh?"

Beside Toriko's building was many others and they did a decent job at masking the light, the majority of their windows dark. Still, with an entire glass door right behind her bed, a fair amount still came through the translucent curtains and I could easily see Toriko's expressions.

"Mmm, not that, but this."

"Ah."

"Sorawo."

"Hm?"

"So-ra-wo."

"Yep."

"…Good night." With a fwump, Toriko abruptly laid down. I was about to do the same when I remembered my glasses. Though a bit cluttered, there seemed to be space on her night table; glasses in hand, I carefully reached over Toriko and set them down…and just as I had, hovering over Toriko, she reached up with both hands and placed them on my face, like she was about to squish my cheeks.

Somehow I knew she wasn't going to, though, this time.

Holding myself up with one arm, the other still in the air, I looked down at Toriko, as she looked up at me. I knew what to expect—the impact of her beauty that made blood rush to my cheeks, my heart quicken, and some small amount of anger from a place of bafflement because how can anyone be so pretty and why would she turn that beauty on me? I pulled away and she held fast, one hand sliding to grip my shoulder.

"The last time I said it, I think I was being catty."

I watched her lips as she spoke. Freshly washed, not a speck of makeup, and in the gloom, they still were shining and poised with every word. Her voice was quiet but at this distance, I still could feel her breath, soft and minty, on my face. Damn, I didn't get to brush my teeth…

"So I wanted to say one more time before the day's over…" She inhaled. She clearly had no idea what time it was. Her eyes were sparkling with a genteel excitement, a sincerity that made my chest feel heavy. "Happy anniversary, Sorawo. My love." Her voice pitched a little with suppressed excitement and she pulled me down into a tight hug. My face was pressed into her neck; her hands clutching my hair, the shirt she loaned me. Pressed to her, I felt Toriko's breath shudder and heard, rather than felt, a kiss fall somewhere in my hair around my ear.

Another squeeze and she released me, drawing her hands to herself and then hiding with the duvet up to her nose, bright eyes huge as they peeked out.

My whole body was warm; a blazing, touching warmth that made me tremble. Sometimes, I could handle Toriko's affection toward me without much trouble, and sometimes it was so incredibly palpable as to be almost painful. This was one of the latter. The feeling from when she'd taken my hand as we walked into the restaurant together, of such sweetness and weight it felt like I would cry if it got to be any more, came back. I could never stop being amazed—Nishina Toriko really, really loved me.

I laid down too and before I could, Toriko pulled the covers over me, patted them in place, then returned to her hiding. Still staring at me, though, but with a more typical Toriko expression; I knew now, this face she got, when I must be making a face…

My eyes were hot so I closed them. "Happy anniversary, Toriko." I peeked to say the last greeting, "Good night."

In answer, this woman snuggled closer and shut her eyes. We weren't quite touching, but the next morning, somehow we were holding hands.