A/N: A couple things. The FFN traffic graph has been broken for so long, it may as well not exist. I really appreciate everyone that follows/favorites the story and who has reviewed! The traffic graph is broken so it's very difficult to tell if anyone's reading on this website and those things help a lot.

For anyone over FFN, this is also cross-posted on AO3, which I'm much more active on since you can reply to comments much easier. Also helps that you know, you actually GET EMAILS ABOUT THINGS. Since that's ALSO broken on FFN right now. If you're thinking about switching or prefer using AO3, this is under the same title and same username on AO3 and it's also a few chapters ahead. I'm posted up to Chapter 12 on AO3 and am working on Chapter 13 currently. I reply to pretty much everyone and have had some great back and forth with people on there.

I will keep posting this story on here until it's finished, but it's more for those that are reading and enjoying and don't want to switch to AO3 for whatever reason. Anyone that also read my Naruto fic... I don't think I'll finish that here. After this story is done (outline is currently at about 40 chapters), I'm going to work on editing and rewrites on that and post it on AO3 as well.

But anyway, on with the story.

****Batsu is Japanese slang word for ecstasy I THINK, the internet could be lying


Chapter Ten: A Mutual Friend

2015 – Summer

"Natsumi, come out with me! It'll be fun," Hana pouted at Natsumi, her eyes impossibly large as she stuck out her bottom lip in a pout.

"Hana, it's a bad idea. I really shouldn't."

It had been a few months since the hospital and once the dust had settled, their lives returned to their normal routine. Natsumi went to work, and Sumiko went back to school with the promise to be more careful in the future. She wanted to stop her and almost begged Sumiko not to go back, but she knew that a fight would follow. They hadn't fought yet, not a real one, and Natsumi was afraid of what would happen if they did. The thread she clung to so desperately was thinner than it ever had been. She told herself that drinking helped it from breaking, but she wasn't sure how true that was anymore.

"Please? We haven't gone out in months, and you had just started to open up"

No, she really hadn't, but she let Hana keep believing it. "I don't have a change of clothes with me," Natsumi looked down at herself, still in her uniform, a simple black skirt and white button-up shirt. They had only just gotten out of work, and she had planned on going straight home.

"Well… I think you could get away with the skirt," Hana offered. "Just roll it up a little and pin it. I have pins at my house, and you can borrow one of my shirts. Easy," she clapped her hands together, satisfied with her solution.

"Hana, I stink. I smell like work."

"You can use my shower!" Hana insisted, her dark green eyes turned pleading. "Please? I live right by the club, and you can stay the night, so you don't have to worry about driving. Then we can go to work together in the morning, and I'll even make breakfast."

"Mitsuki already said no, didn't she?"

Hana rubbed the back of her neck, a shy smile on her face, "She said no one goes out on a Tuesday night and my cooking sucks."

Well, as much as Mitsuki was a bitch she wasn't entirely wrong, at least about going out on Tuesday night. Natsumi couldn't understand why Hana would even bother with someone like Mitsuki. Hana had only been working at the restaurant for the past year or so, but Mitsuki had been there longer than Natsumi. For that entire time, the two of them had never gotten along. Mitsuki had always been known as the gossip and how she had managed to keep her job was a mystery.

Though, the same thing could be said of Natsumi. After she came home, the restaurant was the first real job she ever had, a her brother had gotten her. He had known the manager at the time, and she was sure it was the only reason they had put up with her. At first, she had done okay, she showed up when she was supposed to and didn't show up drunk. Her sobriety didn't last. It never did.

Natsumi told herself that it was different now because had rules. Rules that kept her from slipping too far. She only drank at night, and she always showed up for work the next day no matter how bad the hangover was. She marked the bottle when she drank alone, so she didn't drink too much. By this point, she knew how much it took to become just the right amount of numb. Just exactly how much would kill that itch under her skin. Pretending that all of this wasn't a sign of a bigger problem was easier before the night at the hospital.

"Why do you want to go out on a Tuesday? I'm not working this weekend if you want to swap."

It wasn't like she had plans. Gojou had told her not to expect to see them for two more weeks at least. He was trying to make Natsumi feel better by keeping her updated and she tried to make him feel better by entertaining his nonsense. They hadn't talked again like they had after the hospital, they especially did not talk about the fact that they had both seen the other cry. Everything was back to normal.

If she completely discounted the fact that she couldn't unsee the tears falling down his face while he cried about his best friend. If the way they said each other's names didn't still ring in her ears.

"No, I'm off for once," Hana smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "My boyfriend broke up with me and on Tuesdays, we used to watch this show and… I just don't want to go home alone."

It was a terrible idea; it wasn't her problem, and she shouldn't go. She should just explain to Hana that she couldn't. "Does it have to be a club? We could just go to dinner." Because maybe the club would have been okay before, but everything had changed.

"Yeah, but you can't dance at dinner! Please, Natsumi."

She shouldn't and she knew it and if she told Hana the truth, Hana would understand. Hana didn't pry but in the last year, Natsumi had learned how caring she was, how understanding. She was far too good to be around Natsumi, and she should just go home, it would be better.

"Okay, let's go."

She never was good at doing what she should do.


It was so easy to forget why Natsumi had stopped in the first place, it was fun, to dance and to drink and pretend everything was fine. It had always been such a good distraction whenever she felt any turmoil. Everything felt so much easier with all the noise and the press of people. It was different from before. It was all okay because she would still go to work in the morning, and she was going home with Hana, not some stranger and Sumiko wasn't at home to miss her anyway. Sumiko was safe, with Gojou, and it was okay. Natsumi could do this, it was fine. It wasn't the same as it was before and she wouldn't slip, she could do this.

They were having a good night, drinking, and dancing, everything had gone smoothly until they stumbled out of the club. Hana really didn't live far, even in the heels she'd borrowed from her it would be okay, it wasn't too far. Natsumi was leaning too heavily on the shorter girl for support, easily the drunker of the two. She was giggling more than she should, and she couldn't really remember what had been so funny to her while they walked to Hana's apartment, passing more clubs and restaurants as they went.

She stumbled a little, giggling while Hana held onto her. Her brain felt slow, and her body felt heavy, but it was fine. Everything was fine and nothing could hurt her.

"Are you okay, Natsumi?"

"I'm fine! I'm amazing!" she yelled in the street.

Hana shook her head, laughing with her, "Okay, let's keep going."

They barely made it a few more steps before she heard someone call her name. "Natsumi? Is that you?"

Natsumi looked to the right, squinting just over the top of Hana's head trying to find the voice that called her name. There was a man standing outside one of the bars they were passing. "That is you, isn't it?"

Her body froze, her palms sweating from more than just the heat. The world was too small, and the universe was punishing her.

"Do you know that guy?"

The man stalked towards them, away from the girl he'd been talking to. His face was split in a grin and his dark eyes glittered the way they always had. His hair was longer than it had been, hovering just around his chin, but it was that same dark color that she used to run her fingers through. His face hadn't changed much, he was still attractive, but he was older now, in his early thirties. It had been so long since she'd seen him last.

It wasn't long enough.

It would never be long enough.

Natsumi stopped leaning on the shorter girl, standing as straight as she could, "Hana, go home."

"Uh… Natsumi…"

"Hana, please go home," she muttered and shifted her purse to her other shoulder, tilting slightly as she did.

Hana eyed her curiously, placing a hand on Natsumi's arm to help her keep her balance, "Is he like… your ex or something?"

She nodded and smiled at Hana as sweetly as she could, ex was such a terrible word to describe him. "Yeah, do you mind? I'll meet you there."

Hana looked to the man only a few feet away now, "No. We stay together, or we leave together."

"Fine, okay, stand on the other side of me," she was too drunk to argue, too drunk to be trying to maneuver Hana the way she was. Too drunk to deal with the man who helped ruin her life. "Just be quiet, just… let me handle him."

She'd only just managed to get Hana to stand on the other side of her as the man threw an arm around Natsumi's shoulders. He did it with ease, as if no time had passed between them. "Look at you, all grown up."

"Go away," she spoke the words with as much authority as she could, which wasn't much given she could barely stand. The way his arm was draped around her and her current lack of balance, she was forced to lean into him.

She could feel the heat of his breath on her neck, his lips ghosting next to her ear, "Don't be that way, Natsu."

"Don't call me that."

"You used to like it," he purred in her ear.

Shame rushed over her because she had liked it, once. She couldn't bring herself to look at Hana, afraid of what she would see there. "I was a child. Children are stupid." Where was her anger? Her rage? She wasn't that scared girl anymore, too ignorant, too gullible.

He laughed, "You were never a kid, Natsumi." The hand not around her shoulders toyed with the ends of her hair, the way he used to. He'd always like her hair long. "How long has it been?"

"Not long enough." She wished it was anger that settled in her skin. Not this fear, this shame. She had nothing to be ashamed of. She hadn't done anything wrong. She was just a kid. She was too young. It wasn't her fault.

If she repeated it enough, if she thought it enough, eventually she would believe it.

"You look good," he whispered in her ear.

Natsumi tried to shake his arm off her shoulders, but he just moved his arm, so it was around her waist. He pressed his palm flush against her hip, grabbing her tightly and pulling her in closer. She could feel the heat of his hand through her skirt and regretted the way she'd pinned it to show more of her legs. Her heart started to race, and she knew, knew any second he would reach for her skirt, and she knew she wouldn't stop him because she'd never stopped him, had never been able to stop him –

"She said to get off of her."

Natsumi shot her a look, "Hana, don't."

He laughed and peered around Natsumi to give Hana a crooked smile, "Oh, she does that sometimes. Plays hard to get, but she likes it."

"Leave her out of it, Kazumi."

"Don't be that way, you know I've always liked you best," he spoke low in her ear, starting to trail his lips down her neck and she couldn't move, couldn't breathe. "We used to have so much fun, we could still have fun, Natsu."

"Stop fucking calling me that." She would be okay. He couldn't hurt her. He wouldn't. Not here. Not now. She didn't have to leave with him. She wasn't a kid anymore. She wasn't that girl anymore.

"Don't be such a bitch, Natsu. We're old friends, aren't we?" he teased her, his fingers flitting at the edge of her shirt now.

"You ruined my life," her voice shook, and she hated it. Hated the way he touched her and the way his hands felt on her. She hated him and the way he made her feel small.

Kazumi chuckled, mumbling his reply against her neck, "Oh, that's rich. If anyone ruined your life it was you. I heard all about who you messed with after."

"Natsumi, let's just go," Hana pleaded from next to her.

They couldn't leave. She didn't trust him. He could follow them, and hadn't that been how he had put himself in her life? Followed her home? She'd been so broken already, hurt by a loss she didn't know how to deal with, and he'd just been there. Telling her all the things she had wanted to hear. How ridiculous she had been to believe anything from this man's mouth.

"It wasn't my fault." She wasn't sure who she was trying to convince.

"Sure, Natsu. None of it's your fault," he chuckled in her ear. "Why don't you come back with me? We can talk about it, eh?"

It wasn't her fault. It wasn't her fault. She didn't want to. He had made her say yes, he had left her with so little choice, she didn't want to and… and she could say no now. She couldn't say no then, but she could say no now and –

"I still keep batsu on me if you're interested."

Natsumi looked at Hana briefly, just long enough to see her shocked expression. She let her eyes slip closed because she didn't want to keep seeing that expression on her face and it was over now because Hana knew. Hana knew and Kazumi was here, and it would never be okay again.

She couldn't do it. She couldn't say yes. She had to say no, she had to. She was clean. She drank and she smoked but she didn't do this, not this, not anymore, and why, of all people, why him? Why was she constantly being punished? Maybe it was self-inflicted because she wanted to say yes and would it really be so bad, if it was just a little? She drank and still went to work; would it really be so bad if she just did it one time? Couldn't she just –

"Are you alright, Matsuda?"

Her eyes snapped open, and she hoped desperately that it was not him, but she knew that voice by now. Getou was crossing the street, leaving the restaurant across from the bar that Kazumi had stopped them outside of.

'Fuck'

She did not need one more person in this cluster fuck, what with Hana still gaping at her while Kazumi was touching her skin. He'd inched his fingers under her shirt, and she hated it, hated the roughness of his hand and the heat of it. How could she have ever wanted him?

She watched Getou cross the street, his eyes burning with contempt and his lips pulled back in a sneer. He was disgusted, by her or the man pressed against her she wasn't sure. Between her options, she'd rather chance Getou killing her than spend one more minute like this. Because if she did, if she did then she might leave with this man and she couldn't. She couldn't do that to Sumiko.

"Matsuda," the man mocked in her ear. "She's fine. Tell him, Natsu. You'll feel great as soon as –"

"I'm not fine," she rushed out before he could continue because she couldn't. Sumiko still needed her, for a few years at least, she couldn't let herself fall back into this life. She just wished she didn't want to.

"Seriously, Natsu?" Kazumi laughed at her, his grip tightening on her hip, and it made her wince. "You sure have a fucking type, don't you?"

"Kazumi, you have no idea what you're –"

"Look, man," Kazumi said as Getou stood in front of him, looking every bit the threat she knew he was, "She's not worth it. I mean she's a great fuck and all, but she was cuter when she was a teenager. Just walk away."

Natsumi burned with shame and looked at Kazumi in horror. She knew it was obvious the way he was touching her, but she didn't want it announced like that, to the world. To Hana. To Getou. For him to say it the way he had, with pride that he had fucked a teenage girl.

"Fuck you, Kazumi," Natsumi bit out. "I was a teenager, and you were a grown man," her voice cracked and her eyes stung from the tears filling her eyes.

Kasumi laughed at her, his fingers digging in painfully, there would be bruises on her hip later. "Is that what you tell yourself? That I'm the problem? No one forced you. I didn't make you do anything. If you didn't want to, you shoulda said no."

She hadn't wanted to, not the first time. Not then. She wanted to leave. She hadn't wanted to stay. He'd given her so much to drink and she should have called someone, but she was scared, scared to be in trouble and so she let him. She wished she hadn't let him.

"I wanted to say no!"

"But you didn't," he smiled and let his lips rest against the shell of her ear, "This is why I don't go under twenty anymore, silly girls that lie to themselves."

Natsumi could feel the temperature dropping in the air and it felt like ice in her veins. She heard Hana's gasp and looked over to see Hana hugging her bare arms, eyes darting between Getou and Kazumi in fear. She should be afraid because Natsumi genuinely didn't know which was worse right now. She couldn't bring herself to look fully at Getou, didn't want to see just how disgusted he was by her, by this whole situation.

When she looked back at Kasumi his eyes were wide and bulging. He was scared. Of all the dangerous people he hung around, Natsumi had never seen him afraid, but he was afraid of Getou. She was sure he could feel it too, that feeling of being plunged into ice.

There was the overwhelming feeling of something pressing in on her, a smell so terrible she could hardly breathe and her eyes watered. She lifted her hands from her sides and covered her nose, gagging from the smell of sulfur and decay permeating the air. Even knowing it had been coming and having smelled it before, she wasn't prepared for just how terrible it was.

They were all going to die because Kazumi had to be a piece of shit.

"Oh, what the fuck is that," he gagged, using the hand that wasn't digging painfully into her skin to cover his face.

Hana wasn't fairing much better, her pretty face twisted in disgust as she coughed around the smell. And if it wasn't for Hana, maybe she wouldn't have said anything, maybe she would have just let Getou do, whatever it was he intended to do. Maybe he would only kill Kazumi if they were lucky (though she'd never had much luck) but Hana was good and she didn't deserve to watch a man die in the street.

"Getou-san, please don't," she choked out, the stench invading her every pore.

He scoffed at her, seemingly unaffected by the smell. Maybe he couldn't smell it, or maybe he'd just gotten used to it. "Why not?"

"I don't have a good reason," she gasped out, "I'm just… asking you not to." And maybe he wouldn't, because he'd asked her if she was alright, and he'd come over here when he could just ignore them. He'd saved Sumiko.

"I think I've done enough favors for you, Matsuda."

"I know but… what's one more?"

Getou's lip twitched, barely but it was there, "Alright, Matsuda. One last favor."

Kazumi took his hands off Natsumi, doubling over and retching on the sidewalk. Hana grabbed Natsumi's arm as soon as Kazumi let her go, pulling her away from him even as Natsumi tripped over her own feet. She was half falling, her heels catching on the sidewalk as Hana pulled her away from the two men. Natsumi tried to look back, to see if Getou was following them or killing Kazumi but it made her dizzy and she fell into Hana more fully. Hana only barely managed to hang onto her, and they looked ridiculous, Natsumi with her arm slumped over Hana's shoulders while Hana's arm circled around her waist, trying to hold her up straight.

"I'm so sorry, Hana, I'm so sorry." The tears fell down her face, now that they were away from them, she didn't have the will to stop herself from crying.

"Natsumi, it's okay."

She shook her head, none of this night would be okay and it would never be okay because Hana knew. Getou knew. "I'm so sorry."

"You didn't do anything," Hana said softly.

Her shoulders shook and she couldn't see where they were going, trusting Hana to lead her. "I don't," she gasped, "I don't do that anymore. I promise. I'm different now."

"You don't have to explain, it's okay," Hana patted the arm around her shoulders gently. "I made you come out, it's my fault."

She choked back a sob, "I'm so sorry. I ruined it, I ruined the whole night."

"You didn't do anything, it's okay."

That was the point. She hadn't done anything. She'd let Kazumi touch her just like she had the first time, let him make her feel small. She almost let him drag Hana into it. Into this fucking mess. She knew better than to come out tonight, should have known that it wouldn't be okay. How could she have lied to herself so thoroughly? Nothing had changed. She wasn't different.

If Getou hadn't shown up, she would have left with Kazumi and that knowledge would haunt her.

"Natsumi, calm down, just breathe. Here... sit down," Hana helped Natsumi sit on the steps outside of Hana's apartment complex. They were away from the bars and clubs, farther towards the residential district where Hana lived.

Natsumi hunched over, head in her hands. "I almost fucked up, again. I almost left with him, I would have left with him."

Hana sat next to her and patted her back gently, "But you didn't, Natsumi. Focus on that."

She shook her head, "Only because of Getou-san."

"The reason doesn't matter, let's just be glad that your friend showed up when he did."

"He's not my friend."

"I'm hurt you don't think we're friends, Matsuda. After all the favors I've done for you."

Natsumi lifted her head out of her hands, the movement making her dizzy. He stood on the sidewalk in front of them, looking more relaxed than he had before She hadn't heard him walk up, hadn't really expected him to follow them. "I… don't think we are," she answered slowly, so very aware that Hana was sitting next to her.

"If you're not friends, then how do you know each other?" Hana asked, looking back and forth between them.

Getou's lip was quirked in that half smile, "Oh, we have a mutual friend in common."

"Is that what we're calling him? A mutual friend?"

"Do you have a better explanation?"

"Who is he talking about? He doesn't mean…" Hana's eyes darted between the direction they had come from and Getou.

Natsumi shook her head and reached for Hana's hand, "No, no, not him. He knows… He knows Sumiko's teacher."

"Ohhh, the guy with the white hair? Is he really Sumiko's teacher? Mitsuki says he's your boyfriend."

"Don't listen to Mitsuki, she's a moron."

"But he's so uh… young," Hana blushed and Natsumi knew that young was not what she meant.

Natsumi sighed and leaned on Hana's shoulder, her eyes flicking to Getou. He looked… calm, and she wondered if… if he was calm because he'd killed Kazumi. Her heart raced, remembered the way Gojou had been so surprised he left Natsumi alive when he had killed his own parents. It didn't leave her much hope, but she had to try to get Hana out of it.

She held onto Hana's hand tighter and took a calming breath, "I need to talk to Getou-san, alone." Getou raised a brow at her but didn't argue with her.

"Uh… Okay, well… I'm gonna go inside. You come in when you're ready, okay?"

"No… I think I should go home." If she went inside with Hana, she would want to talk about it and she didn't have it in her to have that conversation.

If Getou killed her, she didn't want Hana to spend all night waiting on her.

"You can't drive like this," Hana insisted. "The whole point of coming to my house was so you wouldn't be driving home."

"I won't drive," she assured her, "I'll take the train. I used to do it all the time."

"It's not safe, you'd have to walk by all the bars, and what if that guy pops up again? Just stay the night like you planned."

"Hana, I can't. I just… I want to go home," tears pricked at her eyes again and she wiped them on her arm.

"I'll take her home."

Natsumi chanced a look at Getou, his shoulders were relaxed, and his hands were shoved deep in his pockets. Hana leaned close to her ear and whispered so quietly that she could almost couldn't hear her. "Do you trust him to take you home?"

She shouldn't. She wasn't sure if he would kill her, she had no idea but… his eyes weren't full of contempt and his face looked… calm. It was stupid to trust Getou in any capacity, because before… he had needed to pretend. He needed to keep up a front that he wasn't an absolute maniac, but now he didn't. Getou knew that Natsumi was aware of exactly who he was. The man had murdered an entire village and his own parents, and probably Kazumi too, and now she was afraid Hana would end up the same just for being a non-sorcerer. Getou had choked Natsumi because she talked about Gojou. On paper, he was far more dangerous than Kazumi could ever hope to be.

He was the only reason Sumiko was alive because Gojou never did find that answer. He had lied to Gojou. He had saved Sumiko. He saved Nanako and Mimiko from something. He was the only reason that Natsumi didn't go with Kazumi.

The only reason she wasn't high.

"Yeah, I trust him." Even if it was stupid, even if it was ridiculous, she trusted him not to hurt her. It was a very short list of reasons to trust him compared to the ongoing list of reasons to be afraid of him.

But… right now, there were bruises forming on her hip from Kazumi digging his fingers into her hip and maybe Getou had put his hand around her throat, but… he had still done less damage to her than Kazumi just had.

"Okay," Hana patted Natsumi's shoulder and stood. "If you change your mind, come up, okay? Text me when you get home too."

Natsumi smiled at her, "Okay."

They waited until the door to the complex was shut and they were sure that Hana was well out of earshot. They stared at each other, and Natsumi was a little embarrassed because he looked the same as he always did, and she was a mess. It was silly and vain to be so concerned with how she looked in this moment. It was ridiculous when she remembered that he hated her. That she wasn't a sorcerer and he would never look at her the way she looked at him.

"You must not know enough if you trust me. Or was that a lie?"

"It's not a lie and… I know enough."

He tilted his head, his lips pulled into that amused lilt, "Oh? What do you think you know about me?"

She hesitated for a moment, eyeing him carefully, watching for the warning signs that he was on the verge. "I'll tell you if you promise you won't choke me again."

Getou took a step back from her and she thought she saw his eyes widen, just a tiny bit. "I won't choke you again. I don't… that's not something I do, typically." She let herself believe that he might look a little bit ashamed.

"Yeah… you don't seem like the type," Natsumi looked away, and dug around in the purse at her shoulder. How she had managed not to drop it was a mystery to her, though she thought she remembered Hana pushing it back on her shoulder while they were walking. "Do you want a cigarette?"

He sighed, "If we're going to have this conversation, I may as well." Getou sat on the right of her, leaving a smaller amount of space between them than she was used to, and held out his lighter. She dismissed it, she was too drunk, and she wasn't gauging it correctly. He would never risk touching her.

She had her lighter, but… maybe his was just a little bit better (she couldn't think of a reason why). She gave him a cigarette, and he passed her the lighter without lighting his own. "Such a gentleman," she mumbled as she lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. "Ieri-san doesn't smoke anymore," she said as she passed the lighter back, hoping to make it feel less tense. They would be shitty last words if it didn't work.

Getou's hand stilled for a moment, before lighting the cigarette between his lips and pocketing the lighter. "I never thought she would actually quit."

"Yeah, she stopped like… three years ago, maybe? Gojou complains about it all the time. If she can stop, I can stop, that sort of thing."

"He occasionally makes a good point," his tone held that hint of amusement.

Natsumi smiled, staring at the empty street as they smoked, and it almost felt like before. "He does sometimes, but usually not."

Getou looked at her out of the corner of his eye, "Matsuda. You never answered my question."

"What do I know about you…" she trailed off, trying to think of the things she knew. The things she was absolutely sure of. "I know that… you're Mimiko and Nanako's father. I know you saved Sumiko and…," Natsumi leaned back on her free hand and stared upwards, at the dark sky. "I know you mean a lot to Gojou."

He sighed, the smoke drifting in the air around them. "That's not what I'm asking."

"I know, but that stuff makes me seem less stupid for sitting with you," she whispered. He already knew just how stupid she was, so it shouldn't matter. "I know… I know about how much you hate non-sorcerers and about your parents." She felt him tense next to her, "Gojou told me that you killed them. It's not... it's not in your file. He was…" she shook her head. "He was upset, after the hospital and… I don't know what you said to him, but he…" she trailed, not sure what to say because telling him that his friend had cried seemed unnecessarily cruel.

"Was he… alright?"

"After a while, yeah. It was a rough couple of days for both of us." Natsumi rubbed her face, surely smearing the makeup that was already ruined and making it worse. He'd seen her look like shit multiple times already, seen her cry on three separate occasions. Even at her best, he thought she was decent.

"What did he say, exactly, about my parents?" he tapped his cigarette on the step, looking pointedly away from her.

"Are you sure that you want to know?"

He laughed bitterly, the sound echoing in the street, "So he told you the details?"

"Not… not how they died or anything, just that you killed them, and it was confusing for him."

Getou nodded and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Because I let you live and not them."

Natsumi tapped her cigarette, trying not to react to the way he'd said 'let' (because if he wanted her dead, she'd be dead and there was nothing she could do about that). "That and… he said you loved them, that they… moved to Tokyo to be closer to you," the muscles in his arms tensed, "and he said… he said he thought you did it because maybe they could have talked you into coming home."

He shook his head and took a drag of his cigarette before he spoke again. "That's not what happened."

"Will you tell me what did happen?" she said, trying not to sound like she was prying even as she was. "Because… I'm confused by it too. I don't understand why we've talked so many times and you let me live when you hate me so much." Because even if he didn't look at her with contempt at this moment, he hated her and he always would. Nothing would change that.

Getou exhaled a cloud of smoke and smoking shouldn't look good on anyone, but it didn't look so bad on him. "I will tell you what happened if you tell me how that happened," he pointed down the street, where they had come from.

"What… Kazumi?"

"I don't understand how you could…" he shook his head, disgusted.

Natsumi bristled, "I'm not telling you the gory fucking details –"

"That's not what I'm asking," he interrupted her, "I don't understand how you could have… that man is scum. Even for a – he is trash."

Natsumi hesitated, she had Gojou explain to her later what a monkey was because it was such an odd term. At first, she'd thought it meant that non-sorcerers were dirty, but apparently, it meant she was a lesser species, just a step in the process of evolution. A step that was obsolete. Gojou said it wasn't a term most people outside the Zen'in used, but Getou did. So then why didn't he?

"I'm… I'm like him though. I'm not a sorcerer either."

Getou tensed, tapping the cigarette more aggressively than a person should. "You are not the same as that man. Satoru wouldn't bother with you if you were."

Natsumi closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the way she used to say a name just like that. Her chest ached and she wished she could say her name without feeling despair. Instead of answering him, instead of telling him what he wanted it, she thought of Gojou and the way the guilt had been twisting inside her for months. "If he knew that we were sitting here. That you were talking to me like this, when you won't talk to him… it would crush him. I can't… I can't think of anything I could do that would hurt him more than this."

"That has nothing to do with the question I've asked, Matsuda." There was a warning in his tone, and she needed to be more careful because he'd promised not to choke her but what did that mean, really? In the face of everything else.

"I know… I'm just… I don't like talking about it and you already hate me. I don't want it to get worse."

He rubbed his forehead with his thumb as he exhaled slowly. "I don't… I don't hate you. You are…" he put the cigarette to his lips again and she was far, far too fascinated with his mouth. "I find you entertaining."

"You let me live because I'm… entertainment to you? So, when I stop being entertaining, you're going to kill me?" She spoke too softly, and she knew she sounded hurt, but it wasn't because she had thought maybe it was more than that (hoped maybe, but not truly believed it). No, she knew that already, it just felt a little too close to Kazumi for a moment. She had been a plaything to that man in a long list of playthings that were easily replaced when he was tired of her.

"Matsuda… I think the moment to kill you has long passed," he looked over at her, and her stomach fluttered, and it had nothing to do with the way he was looking at her (because he wasn't looking at her as if she was more than a funny thing come to bother him). "You have nothing to fear from me, not unless you involve Satoru or hurt Mimiko."

"I would never hurt Mimiko."

"Not intentionally, but you haven't called her."

"Uh, because you broke my phone."

Getou tilted his head, "You still don't have one?"

Natsumi dug in her purse and pulled her phone out, "I do, but Gojou bought it. Which, thanks for that by the way because now he gets extra whiny if I don't answer." She put it back in the top of her purse, it couldn't hurt to have it close by. "It's a nicer phone, which is great but none of my contacts moved over, and she hasn't called me, so I don't have her number anymore."

He was still staring forward, and she couldn't see the expression in his eyes, but she could hear it in his voice. The tenderness, the concern. "She's afraid you don't like her anymore."

"Oh, well I do… If anything I feel like shit for… for asking her where you were." Surely if he didn't hate her for being a non-sorcerer then surely he did hate her for that. "It was messed up to involve her, but I… I was afraid that Gojou wouldn't get a hold of you and I wanted to do something."

"I don't check my messages often, by the time I would have heard his voicemail your niece would have died," he admitted to her, "and she's not upset with you."

"Well… then tell her to call me, so I can apologize for being manipulative," she tried to sound teasing, as if the words hadn't stung, as if she wasn't ashamed of involving his surrogate daughter in that mess.

"And do I get an apology?" he mused, his lips pulling into that half smile.

And maybe, maybe she would have. Maybe she should have, for trying to manipulate him but she had done it to save Sumiko and he had lied to Gojou. And… and none of this conversation was going the way she thought it would. She thought he would be angry and dismissive, not talk to her like he had before. And… and she felt like she was betraying Gojou, because Getou had saved Sumiko once but Gojou kept her safe every day. Gojou, who had cried on her shoulder because he couldn't bring Getou home.

"You choked me and broke my phone and lied to Gojou which meant I had to lie to his face," the words tumbled out of her and she snubbed out her cigarette on the step. "It was one thing when he just didn't know and you didn't know and… I was the only one who knew, I could… I could make that okay, but I lied to his face. After everything he did," Natsumi shook her head. "You don't get an apology from me, not for this."

Getou turned his eyes toward her, his jaw tense and his lips pressed together as he stared at her. "I did you a favor by lying to him," he spoke low, his tone harsh. This was the Getou she had expected.

"That's not why you did it," Natsumi argued, she was pushing him and it was dangerous and stupid. He already knew she was stupid. "I don't know why you did it but it wasn't anything to do with me." Because it didn't, it couldn't. She didn't matter.

"It would hurt him if he knew I had been talking to a –" he sighed, rubbing at his forehead again. "If Satoru knew, it would hurt him because he would think something has changed and it hasn't," he spoke with a harsh tone she wasn't familiar, and this time she thought he was talking to himself. "I lied to him, to spare him."

She shifted around, the admission of it was too heavy. It had hurt Gojou anyway. The broken beautiful boy who had woken her from a nightmare and made her shitty coffee and bought her a phone because he felt responsible. "Whatever pain you think you've spared him, you haven't. You have… you have no idea how much you've hurt him," she whispered. Blue eyes glowing in the darkness while she lied to him and told him half the story of why she'd run away.

"Don't talk to me about Satoru, you don't understand our relationship. You have no idea what we went through together or how we feel –"

"You don't get to ask me about Gojou and then tell me I can't talk about him," she yelled at him, watching the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes were burning her. Natsumi didn't want him to look at her like that, and she told him the thing she couldn't tell Gojou. The thing she hadn't told anyone else, because he already knew one secret and so what was another? "I do understand what he's feeling, at least a little bit. I… I had a… I had a person like that once. I had… I used to say her name, the same way he says yours and I thought she left me. I was hurting and that's how Kazumi happened," she admitted, looking at her hands through bleary eyes.

"I was so in love with her," she continued, because he didn't speak and she wanted to tell someone. No one knew, and if she did end up dying, someone should know about her. Shouldn't they? "She was… she was my best friend and the love of my life and my family all in one person and… and I don't believe in soulmates but if they exist, she was mine," her voice cracked, she still couldn't even say her name. Almost a decade later and it still hurt too much. "Then… she disappeared, and I thought she left me and I thought she didn't love me anymore and Kazumi was there and I just didn't want it to hurt anymore."

She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and dug around in her purse for her cigarettes. Natsumi grabbed one for herself and then offered him one without looking him in the face. He sighed but took the cigarette she was offering, grabbing it with his right hand. She was on his left side, so she hadn't noticed it before, but his knuckles were bruised and the skin was split open and inflamed.

Had he punched Kazumi?

"Did you ever hear from her again?"

Natsumi rubbed her eyes again, "No… she… she died. She was dead the whole time, I just didn't know about it, and I couldn't tell anyone because… Girls aren't really supposed to be in love with other girls," the words came out in a whisper. "I was so sure she left me that… I didn't even look for her."

"I'm sorry you lost her." He sounded more sincere than when he'd offered his condolences for her dead family.

"Thanks," she said, not sure what to do with the shift in tone.

He offered her the lighter again, "Does it… ever stop?"

"Does what stop?" she mumbled around the cigarette in her mouth as she tried to light it.

"Does it ever stop hurting?"

Natsumi passed the lighter back, their fingers almost but not quite brushing this time. He didn't flinch. She told herself she didn't see it. "Not really, but I think I was high through the worst part of it. But that's not something I would recommend, because then you have men like Kazumi and… he's not even the worst one that I…" a shiver of disgust ran through her.

"Why didn't you let me kill him?"

She looked at him, afraid to see judgment or pity but there wasn't any, just an intense curiosity that made her skin feel hot. "Because… I don't know what to expect from you and you… you were pissed off, and I was afraid you wouldn't stop at him."

"I wouldn't have hurt you," he assured.

"I wasn't sure." She didn't miss the way he said nothing of Hana's safety.

Getou looked away from her, at the bruising on his hand. "It would hurt Satoru if you died." Because it would never have anything to do with her, not when she couldn't use jujutsu and he said Gojou's name the way he did. As if the world hinged on his lips, and maybe it did. Maybe if he didn't have two daughters at home that he loved so dearly, Gojou Satoru would be his whole world.

"What happened to your parents?" There was no lying to herself this time, she said it to hurt him. Jealous and petty. Because she'd lost the girl who meant the world to her. Natsumi had loved her and been loved by her, but that was gone now, and she would never have it again. Jealous because her whole world had died and he still had his and he'd walked away from him.

He looked at her suddenly, staring her down the way he had when he accused her of following him, as if he was searching for something. Heat spread across her skin in shame because as complicated as her relationship with her parents had been, their deaths still hurt. And if Gojou was right, Getou had adored his parents.

"You don't… you don't have to tell me," she didn't want to hurt him more than he already was, "I shouldn't have asked. I had… I had a not great relationship with my parents so I… I'm not… It's not my business." Because he had left for a reason. Because there was more to it than what she knew just like there was more to what he'd done in the village. Because he had loved and respected his parents, and they had moved to Tokyo for him because they loved their son. Because he couldn't look at her when he'd asked about his parents and his laugh had been much too bitter for someone who didn't mourn them.

Getou held out his hand, palm facing upward, "Keys."

"What?"

"I told your friend that I would take you home. I will… I will tell you on the way there," he answered.

Natsumi grabbed her keys from her purse and decided… decided she would test her limits because now she was sure he had never sat this close to her. She set them in his hand, letting her fingers brush his palm, a touch so light she barely felt it. He didn't flinch and she wondered if he felt it all.

Getou stood while she gathered up her purse, and she tried to focus on zipping up her purse instead of how strange this night was. When it was securely on her shoulder and she was (sort of) sure she could stand up, she looked up and saw Getou standing there with a hand extended. She grabbed his hand and ignored the thrill it gave her to touch him even if it was just his hand. It was the most they had ever touched, and it meant more than it should have.

When she stood and he let go of her hand, she was convinced he would wipe his hand on something, to be disgusted at having touched her, but he didn't. He took a step closer to her and wrapped his arm around her, his cool hand pressed against her waist. Avoiding the place that Kazumi had dug his fingers into so painfully.

"I don't feel like watching you trip all the way to the car," he said it like it was the only explanation she should need. As if it wasn't a big deal that he was touching her, and maybe it wasn't. To him.

She braced her hand on his back letting the tips of her fingers touch the ends of his hair. Natsumi let him guide her, and really, she didn't need the help anymore, but she didn't want him to stop touching her. Because he would never be attracted to her the way she was to him and so, maybe, after such a long night, she could let herself have this for a moment. When she got in the car and he closed the door, she wished desperately that she had parked farther away.

Getou slipped into the driver's side and slid the key into the ignition, and it was only then that it occurred to her that he didn't know where she lived. That he probably shouldn't know.

"Getou-san… you're not going to like, abuse this right? Knowing where I live?"

Getou didn't answer immediately, eyeing her out of the corner of his eye. "I already know where you live."

Her mouth fell open, "You what? So, you're stalking me?"

"No," he said firmly as he pulled out of the neighborhood. "It was an accident. I was… I was picking up dinner from this place Nanako asked about. She's… very into food, she takes pictures of it. I don't understand the point of it, but she enjoys it."

"Oh, she's a foodie. She posts about it online, she's actually got a decent following."

He glanced at her, "Why do you know that?"

"Mimiko, told me about it once, but anyway, back to the part where you're stalking me?"

"I didn't stalk you," he argued, "I was picking up the food and I saw you. I started to walk up to you but then you turned down a street and I followed you…" he trailed, narrowing his eyes at the road.

"That's the definition of stalking."

"No, stalking has malicious intent. It wasn't intentional," he was so adamant that she did not feel like mentioning how he hadn't claimed it wasn't malicious. "I was going to talk to you. but then I saw you walking up the steps and I felt… I felt Satoru's cursed energy and I left. I realized that's where you live, and I haven't gone down there since."

"Ah, yes, the old I accidentally stalked my best friend's new friend," she teased, "Happens to the best of us."

Getou's lip twitched, "This actually brings up something important. If not enough time passes, then Satoru will sense the residual cursed energy and he'll know you've been around me. It was fine, at the hospital because he knew I had been there, but tonight…"

"Oh… I –" and she shouldn't tell him, but he already knew where she lived and… and it would hurt Gojou and he would never do that if he could help it. "I won't see them for a while. He said it would be two weeks at the earliest."

He nodded to himself, "That should be fine."

They settled into a comfortable silence, and it felt strange to Natsumi because she'd never been very comfortable in the quiet. She didn't even feel fidgety, didn't feel the need for the radio. The itch wasn't gone, but it was… easier to ignore it and it didn't feel like it was because she was drunk. She didn't really feel so drunk anymore.

Getou broke the silence when they stopped at a red light, turning to look at her, "I didn't kill my parents."

Natsumi blinked at him, stunned at the suddenness of it. "Why does Gojou think you did?"

"Because Mimiko killed my parents, and I let him believe it was me," he breathed the words, and she couldn't think of any reason for him to tell her this. Nothing that fit.

Her heart stuttered in her chest and her stomach twisted into knots, "She was just a little kid."

"She was five. That's old enough for a cursed technique to manifest."

"That's not what I mean, I don't… that's so young to have someone's life on your hands. Is she… is she okay?" Mimiko who was so sweet when she opened up. Mimiko who liked books and music. Mimiko who had called Natsumi almost weekly, for months, even though she had to share Getou's views on non-sorcerers.

"She struggles with it."

"Of course she does, that's… it has to be so hard for her. I can't imagine. What happened? Did they… Gojou said your parents were good people, but… was he wrong?"

Getou smiled that half smile at her and shook his head before he turned his eyes back to the road, "No, they were… they were helping me."

"Helping you?"

The light turned green, and he continued driving, staring straight forward. "Yes, I didn't have anywhere to go after what I did, and I couldn't just drag two five-year-olds all over Tokyo. They needed clothes and somewhere to sleep and eat. I went to the only place I knew they would be safe. I went to my parents' house. I left to take care of a few things while my parents watched them and when I came back… they were dead."

"So… it was an accident, then?"

He laughed at her, "Why do you assume it was an accident?"

She paused, considering everything she knew about Getou and what happened with the village, the missing girls, and the dead pedophile. The way Mimiko had warmed up to Natsumi so quickly, and how even when she fought with her sister, she talked about her like she loved her. How Mimiko was so much like the man who raised her. "I think… I think that she's a lot like you. I don't think she would hurt someone without a reason. She wouldn't do it just for the fun of it."

"Are you so sure that I don't do it for fun?"

"I've thought you were dangerous and crazy, and… A little bit you have to be, but…" she hesitated thinking of the times she was pretty sure he was at least considering killing her. The way his eyes emptied, how it barely looked like he was even a person in his own body. "But whenever I've thought, you were going to kill me, you don't look like you're enjoying it."

"Does that matter?"

"It does," Natsumi whispered, touching the spot where Kazumi had grabbed her. It was sensitive to the touch, and it was probably already bruised. It wouldn't be the first time he'd left bruises in the shape of his fingers. "Because men like Kazumi enjoy hurting people, he gets off on it. You don't and… that matters to me, even if it shouldn't."

"I should have killed him."

She glanced at his hand as they pulled into the familiar neighborhood, the one she'd grown up in. "You punched him, didn't you?"

Getou's eyes flicked to her as he turned down her street, "He wouldn't stop talking. I made him stop."

"Did you… did you end up killing him?"

His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he pulled into the driveway, "No. I cursed him instead, which will kill him just much slower than I prefer."

"Will it hurt?"

"Oh, he'll wish he was dead long before he dies."

Natsumi nodded, remembering all the things he'd done and everything she had done because of him. "Good."

"You shouldn't have asked me to stop," he muttered as he turned the car off and opened the door.

She opened the door and stepped out of the car too, half tempted to pretend she needed help just so he would touch her again. It wasn't necessary, he was next to her as soon as she closed the door behind her and she thought maybe they both knew she didn't need more help. "I asked you to stop… because even if you just killed him," she kept her voice in a low whisper, "I don't know how it works and… The Kazumi's of the world deserve to die but the Hana's? They shouldn't have to see it."

The corner of his lip tilted downwards as he put his hand on her waist again, his hand just above the place Kazumi had bruised. "I don't believe in living my life that way anymore."

Natsumi braced her hand on his back again, placing her hand just a little farther up so she could touch his hair. It was soft, sliding like silk across the back of her hand as he helped walk up the steps. Steps she was having no trouble with.

"Thank you, by the way, I never thanked you, for all the favors," she said as he let her go, already missing the cool touch of his hand.

"Thank you for helping the twins two years ago." He put her keys in her palm, and the way his fingers brushed across her hand couldn't be seen as anything but intentional.

"You already thanked me for that," she had her back to her door, and he was standing in front of her on the landing.

"Yes, but… I didn't mean it before."

The way he was staring at her made her stomach flutter and it was too much, too much when she knew how soft his hands were. Too much when he had said he didn't hate her and she could still feel the way he'd touched her. The heat was spreading across her skin and she wondered if the lips she was so fixated by were as soft as they looked. She let her eyes dip down to his lips, and back up to his eyes, and she thought she saw him do the same, for just a second.

Natsumi was tall, but he was still taller than her, if it weren't for the heels she may not even be able to reach. She took that as a sign. She leaned forward tentatively, so close now that their breaths mingled and he didn't move, didn't flinch. Maybe it was too bold and too much and he would hate her.

She pressed her lips to his gently, afraid to push it too far, they were soft and cool against her own. It wasn't a surprise when he didn't respond, but it still stung. She pulled away ashamed, knowing he'd only let her out of pity, but she'd wanted to feel it just once, just one time so she could stop thinking about it.

They were still breathing the same air, only the smallest distance between their lips when he kissed her.

He pressed his lips to hers, closing the small gap, and pressed a hand against the small of her back. The air was so humid and all night she felt too hot, heated from shame and the look in Getou's eyes, the burning intensity that never seemed to leave. His cool lips pressed against hers felt like a relief, even if it felt like he was about to run away. He kissed her tentatively as if he hadn't really made up his mind about it all.

But Natsumi had and really, she made up her mind a long time ago. She'd stopped and talked to him so many times when she could have just kept walking. Even this night, she could have asked him to leave, she could have threatened to call Gojou, she could have gone inside with Hana.

She slid her hands up his chest slowly, almost shakily, even through his shirt she could feel the taut muscles just underneath. It felt ridiculous to be so nervous because she'd kissed more people than she cared to count, but it was Getou. He responded in kind, kissing her more furtively and pressing her back against the front door. She slipped a hand into his hair, running her fingers through the silky black locks as his tongue traced along her bottom lip.

He pressed a hand to her burning cheek, her skin felt like it was on fire, and it was just a kiss. His thumb moved along her jaw as he tilted her head back, pressing his lips more firmly against hers. She felt his tongue swipe along her lip again and she parted her lips, tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach as he deepened the kiss because it was just a kiss.

No kiss should feel quite this good.

Natsumi grabbed a handful of his hair, the tips of her fingers dragging against his scalp and pulled him closer. She wanted more, more closeness, more touch. Her heart was hammering in her chest, but she thought that maybe she could feel his heart racing too as he pressed against her. There wasn't a space left between them, his hips pressed tightly against hers.

He kept a hand on the side of her face, thumb stroking along her jaw as his tongue touched hers, tasting her. His other hand wandered from the small of her back to the curve of her waist as he pushed her back against the door. The ridges of the door dug into her back uncomfortably but it wasn't a bad place to be, crushed between his chest and the door as he kissed her.

Natsumi grew bolder, letting her hands drop from his hair to snake down his shoulders, pressing more firmly. His lips left hers, tilting her face to kiss along her jaw. Her hands slid to the edge of his shirt and slowly under, feeling the hardened muscles that twitched under her touch and -

And suddenly he was stiff, muscles rigid in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. She stopped moving her hands upwards, stilling against him because being around Getou was a little like being around a caged animal. There were moments, like this one, where he tensed all at once. In those moments there had been space between them and Natsumi could talk about something that would distract him from whatever was triggering him. She could bring up Mimiko or Sumiko or something off topic until he relaxed again. But this time Natsumi had crawled in the cage with him. It was a dangerous place to be.

She kept her eyes closed though she had no memory of closing them. Getou pulled away from her and she let out a sigh, missing the press of his hips and the soft touch of his hands against her.

"Don't forget to tell your friend you made it home," his voice was thick, and farther away than she'd thought it would be.

Natsumi opened her eyes slowly, hating the feeling of the hot night air settling against her skin. The way it erased the coolness his touch had left against her skin, as if he'd never touched her at all.

"Okay," she whispered back, for a moment she'd forgotten that anyone else existed.

He was at the end of walkway to her house, facing the street so that all she could see was his back. Even with the distance and the lack of light, she could see that his entire body was on edge. He stood too straight with his shoulders pulled back, the muscles in his back tight and rigid.

"Goodnight, Matsuda-san."

Tears pricked at her eyes, and she really should have known better than to have thought any of it meant anything. He'd let her kiss him out of pity, and to think it was more than that was foolish. If Getou kissing her back meant anything, it probably meant he was just lonely.

"Goodnight Getou-san."

He nodded once, and crossed the street swiftly. She turned and unlocked the door, closing it shut behind her. Natsumi blinked the tears away as she leaned against the door, the click of the lock echoing in the empty house. He might be lonely, and she might be interesting enough to warrant his pity but…

She was still a monkey, and Getou wouldn't let himself forget that.