Oh my God, thank you for the review, Aphidas! I admit that I did a few mistakes but now I have already revised them. I edited the spelling mistakes and for now I will be using past tense, since present tense doesn't suit with me at all!

Shoutout to Aphidas because you're awesome!

Also, I'm going to add something new. It's about the line breaker. If you see a thin line breaker, it indicates that it's a new day or month or whatever, but if you saw this ・・・, then it indicates a change of time in the same day.

WARNING ;; Slight gender bashing, homophobia, as well as the stereotyping of the Japanese people.i f possible, please flame the OC.

chapter two

how to settle in

Stepping into the fluffy white mat after draining the water in the bath tub, I stared at the swirling water even after when it was gone.

I sighed loudly, wet body trembling from the cool water.

I felt like just wanting to slowly disappear into nothing. I want everything that I thought before during the bath to fly over my head and never haunt me for not accepting the reality.

I can't bring myself to completely accept what has happened now that I was reincarnated.

I did not died a nice death.

I died in disgrace and regrets.

I remembered during the meeting of the Death, I hadn't really accepted that I've died, just merely acknowledging it and pushing it back to the corner of my brain.

But now, when it is clear to me like writings in the sand...

It's too much on my plate. I can't do anything to help myself except I have to just put all of the problem at the back of my mind because I don't have a definite solution.

It's unhealthy and not really helpful, but what can I do? Just suck it up because that's what everyone in my place would do?

Mentally wincing at my stupid rant, I cringed at my thoughts. C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, just stop it.

I exhale deeply, filling my lungs with life.

Then release it all out slowly as if I was intoxicated with a drug.

It's okay, I thought to myself, squeezing my hands and feeling the smoothness a child could have, nodding my head along, it's okay, just go along with the flow and accept. Remember, accept whatever comes your way.

I nodded to myself. That will be the rule in survival to this world.

I stepped on the stool, using my weight to move the stool and grab the towel from its rack. Drying and then wrapping it around myself, I went to move the stool in front of the sink to get my toothbrush (it's obvious the small and pink Hello Kitty toothbrush is mine) and toothpaste. Applying bean-sized paste on the toothbrush, I glued my eyes on the mirror as I began to brush my teeth.

Golden eyes peered at me. Wide and doe like, with long eyelashes framing delicately and softly fluttering close against ashy patches of sleep deprivation, before the pair of robs popped out.

I am a boy, but I looked like a girl.

And then there's something bitter tugging into my conscience. If I were a boy who looked like a girl, what will become of me? Will I be the cliché gay person because of how I looked? The bishōnen who was the exact portrayal in those weird yaoi manga? Was I a trans before?

Suddenly feeling irked by my reflection, I focused on the foams painted in light pinkish red and I spat them out in the sink like I was disgusted with the idea of the of being androgynous.

Of course I would hate my look. I was an androgynous, a feminine looking boy! What else could be worse than that? Why would I get feminity when clearly I am a boy?

I paused, thoughts now reeling back to what I had thought before. Am I now a boy? Am I accepting the idea of being a boy?

I tapped my finger against the edge of the sink. I hesitated about being a girl, because if I am living in Japan, then how sexist was Japan? I heard that during sexual intercourse, Japanese men tend to do all the job while the women had to lay down like a dead tuna. Also, as a boy, I would turn out... like what the Previous knew about Japanese boys.

Sad, lonely, depressive, borderline suicidal and pathetic.

I frowned at my own thoughts, or were they my thoughts? I seemed to be able to distinguished which thought was mine and which was just subconscious fact coming in and out like an unwanted presence.

Really, the Previous was such a little shit.

Of course they were, just look at how they were affecting me. It was a disease. I was the Previous, but not entirely. I had a personality of my own now that I didn't get a clear vision of who the Previous was.

The way the Previous thought of the Japanese society was downright stereotyping. It was clear that this Previous didn't went to Japan if they had this kind of thinking. There is now a big change to the Japanese society. Whatever the Japanese were like what the Previous thought was now in the past.

So, I thought again, if I were a girl...

I internally felt downright vacantly amused with the idea. Do I have to wear cute clothes? Hair clips? Make-up? I felt myself shivering at the mention of comestics.

But then again, being a girl could be kinda funㅡI don't even want to know where that thought came from, but I like to just entertain it for a while. I mean, I always saw the 'please notice me, senpai' going in the media, and wearing skirts. Gosh. Tell me about the skirts fun.

The more I ponder, the more this gender topic was harder to think about. Being a girl somehow wounded a part of me, I can't identify it, but it was like some kind of stab against morals while humoring me. Also, being a boy made me wonder if I have to be that bishōnen guy that all girls wanted for straight relationship or some messed-up fantasy.

I shivered. I'll just accept being neutral...

The idea didn't sound too bad. I think I could just go with it.

I made sure to check my toothbrush for any stubborn paste and rinsed my mouth and the sink free from any foam.

Drying myself again, I laid the towel over the rank and began to dress myself from the clothes on the small table. The stool wobbled under my movements but I didn't pay any mind to it as I tried to put on a good ol' shorts and later some t-shirt that looks like a dress on my short structure. On the single shelf below the mirror cabinet, I grabbed a powder and rubbed it over my face and arms.

Placing it back to its place I glanced at my reflection. In the mirror, I can see the baggy plain t-shirt that says sweather weather in English and myself. I sighed, stepping down from the stool and glancing at the cover seat of the toilet where my previous clothes remained.

It was dirty, filthy and painted in dried blood, the iron smell hitting my nose faintly. It was a plain white dress and black shorts and I felt uncomfortable that the whole time I was wearing those kind of clothes.

(At least Shimane respects my privacy.)

The fact that those clothes were bloody while my body was free from any injuries had me confused, but later, I thought that that blood wasn't mine but someone else.

I shivered at the thought, not wanting to think more about my situation before I woke up in Shimane's room.

I grabbed the dirty clothes, not knowing where to put them when there's no hamper in sight. I'll hope that I'll managed to ask Shimane about it. If I can, at least.

The moment I went out of the bathroom, Shimane poked his head out of the kitchen, blank eyes unblinking. "You're in time for dinner. Just wait for a moment." And just like that, he popped his head back to the kitchen.

With the foul-smelling clothes still in my arms, I stared at the spot where his head had been, my tiny hand fiddling with the dirty clothes absentmindedly. After a moment of staring into black space, I pursed my lips and mentally sighed, feeling drained with the entire ordeal.

The hallway is deadly silent and it made me feel claustrophobic because I'm feeling so tiny tiny tiny and God this is awful.

A huff escaped from my lips.

Hey, just accept it. I repeated those word to myself like it was a mantra to save me from the dark.

After releasing a good amount of paranoia through my breathing technique, I entered the small living room, my eyes immediately drawn to the plain room. I didn't get a chance to explore the room with my eyes when I was bedridden because I was always spending time staring at the ceiling.

(They were the good times because I was disattached from the truth and I didn't take the time to be bothered with it.)

On the right corner was a stack of two neatly folded futons. Next to them was a small bookshelf filled with mangas. There was a large window-to-ceiling glass door that leads to the balcony, where the clothes are hanged, and on the left corner was a small TV stand to support the flat screen TV which was airing some Korean drama, with a small pot of artificial lavenders by its side. Nearest to the doorway was a desk with a laptop and bag on it, a hamper below it filled with clothes.

It was a typical small Japanese room in an apartment. Made for one tenant.

After putting the dirty clothes in the hamper, I walked in further and from the island, I watched Shimane who was cooking up some food on a pan, humming a tune.

He's cooking, I realized and immediately felt bad and guilty for him. He was a middle school teen who must have important things else to do, and I need to do something because I'm imposing him. But I'm pretty terrified of opening my mouth because I felt awkward, embarrassed, withdrawn with dealing this sudden dilemma.

(More like, I can't handle actually speaking up when my voice sounds so different.)

Should I help him? Should I? (Or should I not?) I'm feeling unsure. I don't know if I should ask.

I shook my head furiously in tandem to the fast beating of my heart. Stop it, don't be so panicky. I clenched my clammy hands into fists and controlled my breathing. After thinking my problem through, I sighed, nodding my head slowly as determination came creeping in my veins, not that strong but enough for me to stand my ground. I stood up straight, deciding to speak because the sooner, the better.

"Should I help with setting the table?"

Great, my voice didn't come out too squeaky. I mentally sighed in relief.

"あ." Shimane looked up after placing the meal on the serving plate, its tantalizing scent tempting me for a moment. "大丈夫ㅡ" Realizing he spoke in Japanese, he switched to speaking in English. "The... cutleries were on the island. I'll carry the dishes."

On the one end of the island were the stacked cutleries for two people and a jar of water with glass cups. I nodded at him and he turned away to prep the serving food. I gained a bit of confidence with that, faint and dwindling like a little flame of the candle.

So one by one, I carried them to the low table in the middle of the room and arranged them appropriately on the for two people. After finishing, I briefly noted that there are spoons and forks in place of chopsticks and no small rice bowls in sight.

Shimane arrived just as I was about to sit in a seiza position (after a lot of pondering on the Japanese etiquettes) and I blinked at the cuisines he placed on the center space I left for the dishes. He took his seat across from me and I thought about how strange this felt, never taking my eyes off the food.

There was a sense of normalcy waffling through me, intertwining its warm threads together inside me pleasantly and welcoming me in with a delicious smell.

I inhaled slowly, mildly amazed at how such a meal was able to affect me.

Noticing my gaze at the food, he explained, stumbling over his words, "You look... foㅡforeiㅡ? I meanㅡdifferent, not in a bad way... but different from me, you know? I don't have enough in... ingredients for soba or anything that would suit different people's taste so I cook some food everyone would know."

Fried rice with peas and small cubes of carrots, along with crispy fried chicken legs that were glossy with a golden honey sheen, hotdogs and two plates of salad with Caesar dressing.

I gave him a small, grateful smile, feeling weirdly warm that a young teen was cooking something okay while considering my taste. If he made sushi, I'm sure that its organic taste will not sit well with me. Even when I never tasted it, my taste buds were tingling with remnants of bitterness. "Thank you." I mummered softly, bowing my head slightly in the form of Japanese gratitude.

He nodded, averting his dull eyes. "Eh, don't sweat it." I watched him getting the food carefully and how after he's done, bowing his head and mouthing something with eyes closed before he opened them, digging into his plate elegantly.

It's a good thing all of the dishes comes in large servings because I'm feeling a bit hungry right now. I felt awkward and shy that I would be eating someone's cooking, someone who had been taking care of me for five days without complaints, but then ignoring the dish would waste all his efforts and it also doesn't sit well with me.

I shook my head to reprimand myself. You're making this difficult if you think of both ways of a problem that made you uncomfortable. Stop and just accept what was given to you.

Slowly and gently, I scooped the fried rice and grabbed three hotdogs and a chicken, taking the salad after Shimane conquered the other plate.

Occasionally, I would glanced at the Korean drama. I couldn't understand a word but it was funny and exactly cliché but in a deep sophisticated way Koreans were known for. The clinking of the metal cutleries and the soft sounds from the TV were filling in the silence.

I wasn't feeling that much awkward but a bit self-conscious because Shimane was acting like this was very normal. Like acquaintances sharing a table while being in their own world. He didn't even glance at me repetitively nor did he even stare at me for too long, and he didn't even stop eating except for drinking water or watching the drama.

His presence didn't impose me. His occasional laughters and soft smiles for the drama were welcoming me in to this little room and I could only watched him do those simple normalcy stuff.

He managed to make everything feel normal and I can't help but be more grateful that he was so unfazed that a stranger was eating his cooking.

"Hey." Shimane said during the meal after changing the channel to some anime, his voice bleak but rising in intonation. I didn't look up at him from my food but stopped using my utensils to give him the sign that I'm listening. "I was thinking of spending time with you for, y'know, so that you can have a new start."

So you can have a new start.

I felt the weight of the words crashing on me. My heart fell to my stomach and the bile began to rush upwards but I swallowed it down.

Why is that those words had a large effect on me? Isn't that great that I would be settling in this world with an aide, not lost and feeling scared and lonely that I was alive after dying so humiliating? The thought of starting new scared me, petrified me to my deepest core.

This situation, I didn't ask for it.

I didn't ask for dying. I didn't ask for being reincarnated. I didn't ask for everything here.

I had completely understand my situation with Death. I knew that I died and that it would bring me to Hell and I understand that, because that's how it goes, right?

But it sending me here? In a new body? For what?

Was there a task for me? Is it a trial for a lesson I should learn, a judgement impending to me? Was it that there was something about me in the Previous that made me here?

Sure, the Previous was malcontent with what life had to offer, looking so blank and deary of the future ahead of them, also not having anything to offer and nothing to be offered to them. But they could have so much more with this new life and that's what ㅡ

Jostling at the sudden thought, I realized with the awe of the revelation that maybe... perhaps... I could have the things I never had in the Previous.

All my memories were gone except that bullies and meeting with Death, the shock and the wild desperation it left me. I know subconsciously about my Previous because even if I didn't remember the memories, there will be echoes from my soul that is screaming at me, screaming for the ache of someone I was before.

The thought of my reincarnation as a blessing in a disguise of a curse never occured to me, because God, my mind was reeling from the incredulous happiness buzzing alive through me.

I could enjoy everything that I lost in this new life, and isn't that just wonderful?

I could have friends that I deprived myself of, I could enjoy life more than the times of solitary I shrouded myself, I could actually show myself that I kept locked in the darkest corners due to (in)security.

I restrained myself from actually feeling giddy. But it was impossible because damn Hell if I'm just going to dismiss it.

Oh my God, I thought while giggling mentally. Oh my God.

I never had felt this much appreciation for myself. I really could have a chance at this life. I could have everything that I deprived myself in. For once, something good happened to me after this whole angsty stuff. But now, but now ―

I could have everything.

I could take a hand at being changed.

Oh my God, this too ridiculous. All those angsty road I went through looked so small because suddenly I was seeing something big, bigger than everything. It was something that was given to me and finally I understand somewhere deep to the roots of my heart and soul that I can get a chance for the ones I missed.

This whole loads of feeling was overwhelming me, and it was something I don't want to let go. I never felt something so precious than this.

The urge to laugh, to cry, to scream out of mad joy was killing me.

Calm down, calm down, calm down. Regaining myself, I gave a soft smile at Shimane. "Yeah. That's good."

If I didn't actually accept my situation, if I didn't stumble over the fact that my reincarnation could be the best damn thing to happen to me, I would have internally lamented and drown myself in my depression.

But no, I finally see something, saw a whole new load of plethora of the finest taste that life could offer to me.

Shimane watched me, dark eyes widened ever so slightly in a way that made me just want to smile more (as well as realizing that I am so stupid, acting so happy all of the sudden), before shrugging nonchalantly. "You'll help me with drying the plates, is that okay?"

Not trusting my voice to speak, I nodded, keeping in my mind about my attitude issues.

Lol.

・・・

Later on, the entire meal went on silently, no exchanges between us, only the clinking of the forks and spoons and the sounds from the television, now airing some new anime, where this lovely girl, fiery as the fire and yet gentle like a fleeting dream, was tutoring a delinquent girl, thus the blooming of their friendship.

When we're finished with the meal, Shimane was carrying the stacks of plates while I was tasked with holding two cups. During his washing away of the stubborn dirts from the plates, he let me get the stool from the bathroom.

The close proximity when we work in the kitchen was okay and it reminded me of the times where I used to clean my own dishes in the past, silent and peaceful. I was either alone in a world of solitary or angsting, pleasant ones drifting me in a lone lane of river while the horrible one shrouded me in self-loathing.

And now, this is the time for some self-introspective thought.

So I was reincarnated.

Okay. Mental giddy nod. Okay, then.

I have some opinions of this reincarnation. At first, reincarnation is just a foolish wish of mere humans like us because they were so ungrateful and can't get enough with just one life.

Reincarnation was just a mere wish of most humans that could never happen.

Reincarnation is not real.

But here I am.

Alive, breathing, living ㅡ a second chance.

I can't believe this is happening.

I smiled softly, unconsciously grabbing the wet plate from Shimane and drying it spotlessly before putting it in a rack.

My thoughts were interrupted when light conversations were made over washing dishes, Shimane telling some of his recollections of what happened.

Shimane's voice was a bit slurry, lack from sleep perhaps, and quiet like the world outside. He hesitated from using words he didn't have a precise meaning of, but the way he spoke was fleeting like a dream and lost, stumbling over memories over memories.

He hummed, nodding his head to a beat with a small twinkle and curve to his eyes. "... because I somehow got sukiyaki all over my shirt, which attracts the lost dogs of Grandma, I would aways get free croquettes from her every weekdays as a token of gratitude."

I nodded, briefly noting that such a boring teen have little interesting things popping in his life. He looks like the guy who would rather spend his life with some digital waifu and a dark room rather than go for a walk in a town and get lost in alleyways.

Shimane laughed airily, throwing his head back. "I might not look like it, but I really like helping people."

Hearing those words made me stared up at him, feeling the words were sucking me dry of life. I continue to breathe calmly, not at least physically affected but my mind was running on blank fire.

Oh.

Shimane continued, humming gently with a soft look to his eyes. "I believe people is worth helping. It's hard to explain it, but I just want to help them with no other motive except, 'hey, I wanna save you all because you're worth it'. I might be taking all the chances to show that to everyone."

Oh.

He sniffed, schooling an irritated look but his tone was fond and happy. Pure joy radiated from the blank eyes and something in me stirred. "Even if some people were like, 'why' and 'don't try to help me, go away', I will say, 'bro, you need a help, Imma give you help'."

I blinked, staring at him for a time being, unconsciously doing my job. I felt like I've emphasized with him but I find his joy ridiculously stupid and how he wants to help even more so. This feeling overwhelmed me. It was bitter that such a young teen already was matured, wishing to help people.

I wanted to discourage him, to let him know that don't bother yourself with them, that you'll gain nothing from it. There's a sense for dread but then I recognized whom I am meant to be.

I was just a child right now.

Then I threw him a smile, a small quirk at the corner of my lips, with furrowed eyebrows, eyes displaying a lot of words too shy for the world. A paranormal view of the sufferings I went through played back in my mind and I felt like a veteran, worn down, bitten, and looking at the world with a resigned look.

How... nostalgic.

Shimane's words actually reminded me of how I became bullied.

I was just a normal person, you see. I scored myself good to get into that nice school since it was a battlefield for grades and social standing. It was a good school, well known for its scholarships and all that gizz gazz. I remembered trying to aim for a scholarship so that I wouldn't pay for my school fees.

Other than that, I wasn't particularly interesting, just your average person with nothing to give you except the chill and the bore of life. I went through the school days with a daydreaming and silent look, diligence to study well, and noticing.

Then ㅡ someone was in trouble.

They were bullied by some cool kids, sneering words hitting through their weak spots like arrows on fire, burning them in shame and self-agony, their face twisted as more thoughts filled their head, so fast and loud for them to handle it.

And well ㅡ

I defended them.

Instincts and gut feeling were screaming at me to just go and help them but I don't want to do it, you know. I'm a pretty cool person in the classroom. Not the cool like 'well known', cool for the 'not on your bad side and pretty much chill' thing. I don't want to have a death wish with the cool kids. It was because of some cliché and shady reasons they were infamous for their social title.

But I did it, because if I ignore someone being bullied, I would feel regret and that would be a memory of penance and I just couldn't forgive myself. I remembered the feeling of when everytime I think of that scenario, I would desperately wished to help them instead of leaving them by.

So I defended them. Very calm and deadly, the way I talked back to the cool kids, I think, and isn't that cool of me? Little praise sprouted in my head and I can't help this light feeling filtering through me.

I did good, I thought to myself at that time and I accepted that giddy feeling of happiness, feeling proud like how you got medals and certificates and your parents have to walked up to the stage to held out for you.

Isn't that a good feeling?

But...

Imagine to my surprise when the bullied kid turned against me and joined with the cool kids in spewing bad shits about me, thus turning the battle one sided because I was dumbfounded, losing the will go on now that the person I was defending was turning against my kind help.

It attracted a whole lot of attention since the bullying occured on the hallways, students wanting to flock with the cool kids because of some petty reasons that I want to bash their head in. Teachers weren't there, they were only particular with your grades because if you're good in their subject, they would get a pay check raise, no?

There was lost echoes around me, the noise a white silence and I just couldn't help the demonic words plaguing me, all of my flaws thrown in my face, my mistake of being alive, and how laughter came in a form of roaring waves ready to drown me.

Humming emptily, I thought back. And I was bullied for how long?

Throughout highschool.

Bitter nostalgia, I noted, blinking something away from my eyes.

I sighed through my nose.

・・・

After that, Shimane handed me some used lesson books on katakana, hiragana and kanji writing, empty notebooks and writing utensils.

I was bothered by how there were instructions on how to actually, correctly and properly write the letters. Annoying and useless, because no matter how much I follow the steps, my writing came off a bit wobbly and chicken scratch.

Shimane helped me with some of the words. He translated the transliteration of the words in English and reciting them back at me. I was grateful for his help.

During the lesson, Shimane had looked at me and blinked. Repeatedly. "The house's free for ya. You can stay, really."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

He shrugged. "You can stay here."

You don't know how confused and touched and somewhat out of the world I was feeling right now after that.

I was confused that why he would let me stay but I wouldn't dwell on that. I was touched because he just somewhat blurted that and and how he looked too awkward for his own good. There's something about him that made me want to pinch his cheeks and coo. Maybe because of how he wanted to help people? I don't know, but this affection is too cute for me to handle.

And I felt out of the world because is this really happening? It was just like a deadpan feeling, you get me?

However, Japanese people are disciplined and they aim to disciplined the young, so when I gave my consent he gave me morning task of sweeping the floor, moping the table and watering the cactus outside in the balcony.

Not that I mind, I was looking forward to cleaning the entirety of this stuffy room.

After watching some game show (which were amusing and bizzare but unique in a way), Shimane said it's bed time and he lifted the low table up to the wall, placed both futons side by side on the space in the living room.

It's weird seeing a teen using a futon with hearts on it. Mine's was just a normal futon with dots.

Sleeping together was cold and very can be very awkward if you think that much. The AC was on and set on a albeit high temperature, giving Shimane a run for his money. Shimane had turned the TV and the lights off and was staring into the ceiling before immediately sleeping flat on his back, snoring softly.

Frequently, I flickered my gaze to him and to the ceiling, wondering aimlessly through the throngs of building apathy.

The night was peaceful. The moon's light softly filtered in the living room through the curtains. I couldn't hear any sound except for Shimane's snoring.

The silence was the time when the thoughts became loud for the world to scream.

General thoughts of the world suddenly turn into some wicked sort of self wanderings. My heart speed up as each thoughts roam freely in my mind, growing louder until it became a shrieking mess that drags me down into deafening silence.

I'm okay, I thought to myself, reminding myself of my purpose now that I'm alive, I will be okay.

I fumbled my hand into my blanket and the time passed by slowly, until the darkness I saw shallowed me.

I think, my day started with a bang.

That morning wasn't anything spectacular for a spending time that Shimane brought in the dinner before. We both woke up, cleaned ourselves, and got dressed into fresh clothes before Shimane washed the dirty clothes and then hanged them outside on the balcony. After that he made breakfast consisting of bread and cornbeef while I'm already done with sweeping and mopping the floor the old style way and watering the cute cactus outside.

We ate silently, the TV on airing some Justice League movie in this weird dub (I cringed at the Japanese voice of Batman). Then we washed the dishes and went off to do our stuff.

Nothing happened. It's like this is pretty much normal, two occupants, a teen and a child, sitting silently off in their own world.

Apparently, Shimane had no school since it was summer vacation.

Then, the main door was banged open.

I jerked my head at the reverberating sound, staring off when there seems to be silence.

Shimane cursed loudly in Japanese, shooting up to his feet from his little cocoon of futon and a laptop showing the movie Life of Pi.

Rapid footsteps echoed loudly and suddenly in the doorway I saw a male with messy blond bed hair and popping sharp blue eyes that matched the prince look he must be going for. He held on tight to the doorframe, smirking with a grin to his eyes.

Then the image was ruined when he squealed.

Loudly.

Like a girl.

I was left staring at him like he was Godzilla.

"Shimaneeeeeee!"

Shimane blinked and then sniffed at the blond, giving him a stink eye before returning back to his cocoon of futon. He spoke something in Japanese and the blond responded something in a very loud, obnoxious way, whining every now and then.

Despite the exasperated tone in Shimane and the excited one from the blond, they were talking with familiarity since Shimane's didn't do much about the door being banged once to be open.

I was left sitting there, just staring at them both. Their Japanese was so fast I thought they were rapping. I shrugged them and my awkwardness off, doing my hiragana lessons on the low table because if there is something going on and Shimane is pretty okay with it, then I'll just let it be.

Then adruptly, I was pulled from my work and staring straight into blue narrowed eyes that were analyzing me.

I stared back with wide surprised eyes. What happened? One moment I was doing my work, the second I was turned around and facing this dude.

Then he did something. He cooed in Japanese while making those annoying baby noises, pulling on my cheeks and squeezing them together so that I resembled to some fish.

What the heck?

I immediately held on to his wrists to stop him from hurting my cheeks further but it only made the blond cooed loudly, a dreamy look appearing on his face with sparkles and bubbles.

I was horrified. I never wanted this to happened. Why is this happening?

No matter what I did to remove his hands from my cheeks, he would only cooed and gave me those kissy looking face, making some baby noises that shrieked loudly into my ears like a banshee.

Shimane said something (why aren't you helping me? I mentally shrieked at him) and the blond blinked at him, before he glanced at me and said something in a questioning tone. Shimane must've said something quite shocking because the blond yelled adruptly. Then some rash talking and suddenly I was pulled into a hug, fake sobs penetrating through my ears.

What the heck?

Just as fast as I was pulled into a hug, I was suddenly pushed away and the blond teen was staring down at me with some kind of determination.

"You," he spoke in English. I blinked, mildly impressed but confused still. I thought he wouldn't understand English since most Japanese find it useless. "are my daughter."

I did a double take. Wait, what?

Apparently Shimane got fed up with the bullshit. "What the hell?"

The blond turned to him with a look that could make mothers proud of, determination shining through with sparkles in his ocean eyes. "Shimane, she is my daughter."

I furiously blinked my eyes at him. Last time I check, I was reincarnated and I have a little guy down there. I was confused, even doning a look right on my face. I'm a guy, hello?

Oh wait, I was having a girly face. No, I was neutral. Now I felt uncomfortable in this body, fidgeting under the blond's hold.

Shimane sassily quirked an eyebrow, moving in his cloak of futon to make himself look like some homeless person. "I remember how idiotic you were. Just because Japan had thirteen as their age of consent doesn't mean you can screw around. Besides, you're a male."

At Shimane's words, I can't help but wonder why was Shimane reduced to this state of idiocy. I thought he was smarter than that, or maybe his blond friend had did the unspeakable which Shimane had mentioned. Also, Japan seriously had their age of consent at thirteen?

Now I felt more petrified at this blond guy. Japanese people weren't also used to affectionate gestures, but maybe he's a foreigner? It's weird to actually see one when the only blonds were yankee.

The blond yelled indignantly, anger taking hold of him. "Shimane! I can't believe you would deprive me of a child."

I was shocked at those words.

What is going on? What are they doing? What is this even?

Shimane was outright disgusted, even going as far as falling away from us. "What the fuck, man?"

The blond sniffed and posed his head in a way that made his crying effect even more better, with his head lowered to my collarbone and an arm covering his lower part of face. "Shimane, this beautiful girl here, she is my daughter." He sniffed again, rubbing his nose with his index finger. "How can one be as beautiful as me? The only reason is, she is me. No other answer is acceptable. Even having sex with you isn't acceptable."

I stared down at him blankly.

Dude.

What is wrong with you?

Shimane voiced out my thought exactly, his face a perfect dictionary example of exasperation. "What's wrong with you?"

The blond flippantly flipped his hair, the strands hitting me in the face. "Nothing. I can't help but be swayed by such a beautiful girl." He took hold of my small hand and kissed it on the knuckles.

I stared at him with wide jaw, mortified at the change of attitude and the display. He just... did he just kiss my knuckles?

The only teen with black hair deadpanned and flipped his phone open, pressing the buttons. "I'm reporting you to the police for pedophilia." The phone ringed once and he answered it before putting it on his ear. "Yes, hello. I'm here to report someone for pedophilia. Yes, it was ㅡ"

The blond pushed me away harshly to jumped on him and he shrieked, falling over and the phone in his hand was taken and the call ended.

I can't believe what had happened the moment I hit my head against the wall.

One is that Shimane had actually called the police and shrieked and two, the blond is starting to do some weird gay porn, pinning the black haired teen with his wrists above and cooed something in Japanese.

I blinked and did all my best to actually focus on the hiragana in front of me, ignoring the small flame of disgust at the sight of two males doing something weird while I'm here with a child body tortured to hear the sounds they would be making. Suddenly the words in the book seems to make sense.

There were banging movements, loud gasps and yells and some chuckling.

...Then the movements were soft and there some hushed speaking.

I continued to finish through my hiragana book, my pencil scratching against the paper. I can't believe this is happening, my heart was rapidly beating against my chest and my disgust kept on growing.

Stop, stop it. What's wrong when homosexual people doing some affectionate things together?

Nothing, when they seemed to be doing it when a child is in the room.

Stop it. I admonished myself, feeling anger for whatever I thought. I should accept people regardless of their sexuality.

Then, I was pulled away from my workbook and up in someone's arm. Instinctually I wrapped my arms around their neck for support in case I fell over. I settled down with the one of their arm around me and below me, like I was a koala holding on a tree.

Someone sighed from across me, tired and flushed. "Are you the devil?" I turned to look at Shimane who stood up, ruffling his hair into more mess like a bird's nest.

The blond, the person who is now carrying me, flicked his hair, its strands hitting me in the face like small whips. I winced. "My daughter needs the best things! Look at the rags you gave her! What bullshitoes!"

I'm mildly impressed at the cuss and creativity.

There was a pause, in which Shimane took a glance at me before shrugging nonchalantly. "Pretty normal, I guess?"

The blond dramatically gasped in shock. "Shimane! You are watching too much drama!" Then he scrunched his face in a thinking mode, lowering his voice in stage whisper. "I can't believe this. To think he went as far as to dress my daughter in his shirt. Does he miss me that much?"

Shimane was exasperated, squinting his eyes at him. "Actually, what the fuck?"

The blond sniffed, throwing in a glare. "Don't cuss."

"Butㅡ"

"I said, hush." He shushed the black haired teen off, who only ignored it and went around us and the table to get to the closet. The blond turned around to face him and smiled bright.

"Shimane, prepare some money. We gotta get going." He declared when the other teen was checking his clothes in his small closet.

The black haired teen gave him a 'really?' kind of look. Lowering his head down and flipping a hand over like he was carrying stack of plates in one palm. He gave the blond stink eyes.

The blond grinned as bright as how Shimane is with his 'really?' look. "We're spending bonding time in the town centre of Namimori as a family. Good thing I brought my motorcycle." He winked at the sighing teen.

I noted the name away. Namimori, sounds Japanese.

Also, I glanced at the blond, he has a motorbike? Japanese law allows youngster to ride a motorbike?

"Do I have a say in this?" Shimane sighed tiredly, raising an eyebrow.

"Nope!" The blond cheerfully yelled, sparkling in contrast to Shimane's dull aura.

"I thought so as well." He sighed again and began to remove his clothes after picking the casual clothes randomly and placing them on the island.

The blond whistled, smiling in his voice. "I somehow can't believe you're toned. Girls will be killing for you."

True to that, I agreed. Shimane was lean and toned, strong muscles and abs rippling in his movements. There's a black dragon tattoo on his left chest and curling around his arm. When he turned around to get the clothes on the island, there was a monochromatic beautiful yet mechanic wings tattoo on his back.

I nodded appreciatively. Talk about some nice tattoos.

After he was done, he turned around and took his wallet and keys from the closet before stuffing it into the pocket of his pants.

"Let's go." He declared, walking off to get his phone and into the hallway while we trailed after him.

The blond beamed as we exited the apartment room before he looked at me with stars in his eyes. "Call me Ukyo-mama!"

Shimane, after locking the door and muttering, sighed once more. "Well, let's go and buy some nice stuff."

TRANSLATION;;

"あ." ー Oh. (a.)

"大丈夫ㅡ" ー (It's) Fine. (daijōbu)

Long chapter, I know. This chapter used to be 4k words but before publishing this, I thought, 'who wants to read some character development to which the author can't do cuz she on her way to fifteen?' So I changed some stuff.

In my place, internet isn't working well for a last year or two, so money goes flying for load and I'm using mobile data at the early 4AM.

I hope I expressed the character all right. I tried to show that, even if they were bullied, they were passive aggressive and somewhat passionate, and pretty much the chill.

Question: What do you think of our Ukyo and Shimane? As well as the kid? I hope my characterizing is good on them 'cuz they're confusing as eff.