Starlit Wings Ch 6: Izumo Inn, a Sekirei + Bloodborne Crossover fanfic

Chapter Six: Izumo Inn

Minato stepped off the train with flushed cheeks and shifty eyes. Glancing around at the various people in the station, he squared his shoulders and hung his head, flipping up the hood of his jacket to obscure his face… and then started walking.

"Minato-sama…?" Musubi called loudly, following him at a reasonable distance of… about ten feet. "Why do you want us walking so far from you…?"

Flinching at her voice, he kept silent and kept moving, desperately hoping she would get the hint.

"...Why?" Akitsu echoed, her voice somehow carrying through the throng of people.

Minato carried on, ignoring them both.

"Who are those two…?"

"Are they cosplayers…?"

"Who's this 'Minato' guy they're talking about like that…?"

The various people coming and going through Izumo Station all easily noticed the two Sekirei. Between their beauty, general oddness, and their showy clothing… It really wasn't surprising.

It was also exactly why Minato didn't want to be seen with them!

"Just… ignore them…" he mumbled to himself. "They'll be fine…"

Picking up his pace, he made his way up the stairs that led away from the train platform, passing through the ticket machines quickly and continuing on toward the—

BEEP!

Halting in place, a good dozen feet from the machines, he let out a sigh…

Please, let that be someone else.

…And then he turned around and facepalmed.

"Minato-sama…!" Musubi called. "There's something wrong with our tickets…!"

Of course there was.

"Why me…?" he groaned.

He was tempted, sorely tempted, to walk away and let them handle it on their own. Both young women were clearly his age—more than old enough to handle this kind of situation—and with how forgiving station attendants tended to be in Japan, the worst that could happen is they'd be slightly delayed with meeting him outside.

…Yet, he found himself walking back to the ticket machine in defeat, instead.

"Let's go talk to the people at the counter…"

Musubi beamed at him, and for a moment it seemed like she was about to try and hug him from the other side of the waist-level fence, while Akitsu seemed to exude this sense of quiet contentment. From there, he ushered them over to the nearby help desk, helping them through the process and making it go much faster than it probably would have if he left the two to their own devices… though it was annoying how he kept needing to get the man's attention, pulling him away from the distraction that the two Sekirei's chests appeared to be for him.

It irked Minato more than he expected, feeling a surprising amount of protectiveness for two people he'd literally just met.

…He brushed the emotion off as common decency.

Eventually, though, they made their way to the surface as a trio, stepping out onto the streets of the Izumo district of Shinto Teito.

"Where are we going again, Minato-sama…?"

Would it kill her to talk to him normally instead of… instead of being so embarrassing?!

"Well… We know it's a place called 'Izumo Inn…'" he replied, more focused on the weird looks the people nearby were giving him and the girls standing at his sides than what he was saying. He'd given up on walking ahead of them by now, but he still resolutely kept his hood up over his head.

"...Ah. That's… confusing…" Akitsu spoke up softly, gesturing… At the three separate buildings labeled 'Izumo Inn' that were within their line of sight.

"...Oh," Minato said. "That… Might be a problem."

…

It was, in fact, a problem.

They had been wandering around the streets of Izumo for hours now, and Minato felt no closer to finding the correct 'Izumo Inn.' Just about all of them he'd found didn't take long-term residents, and the few he'd found that did were too skeevy for him to even consider living there himself, much less with two young women following him around.

At this point, he was getting a bit desperate, though… So he did what he always did when he needed answers. Closing his eyes, he consulted the whispers for suggestions.

" they murmured. "̶G̴r̸a̵n̵t̸ ̵u̸s̷ ̴e̴y̷e̴s̶…̸!̴"̴

Wonderful.

That was wildly unhelpful—

Ding…!

A text…?

Flipping his phone out, he checked his messages… Only to see an address line, an emoji he had never seen before of a smiley face with brightly-lit glasses alongside a cartoonish hand doing a peace sign, and a single message:

"Lost…?"

Another emoji followed that, identical to the first except that the hand was pushing up its glasses mischievously instead of doing a peace sign.

"What's that…?" Musubi asked, peering around his shoulder curiously.

Minato glanced around suspiciously, eyes tracking the security cameras posted on and around nearby buildings.

"...The Professor is being helpful," he said, finally, not quite sure what else to say.

"That sounds like him," the girl nodded matter-of-factly. "He's so nice!"

Akitsu let out a quiet hum of agreement.

…

Izumo Inn, proper, was a very traditional place.

Hand-laid stone walls marked the threshold between the modern world and an image of older times, while a pebbled path led the way through well-kept gardens and bonsai towards stately sliding doors—paper lanterns prepared to make shadows dance once the sun began to make its way towards the horizon. The main building had two floors, windows peering out from wooden bars on dark-wood walls, while a simple sign with elegant kanji stood to the side of the footpath, declaring the place to be 'Izumo Inn' in a way that none of its contemporaries ever could be.

Stepping onto the footpath, Minato winced at the resulting sound, feeling like he'd disturbed something with the simple noise. He wasn't even sure why he felt that way. There was nothing that stood out as unusual about the place. Japan was home to many a traditional hostel, and this one shouldn't be any different.

…Yet he hesitated at the front entrance, twitching with intent to enter, then to leave, then to tear open the door and—

Minato let out a deep breath, closing his eyes as he breathed back in, trying to focus on calming down. 'It's just an old house,' he told himself, 'there's no reason to be so unnerved.'

Taking one more breath for good measure, he went to open his eyes… Only to finally realize what had bothered him so.

"They're gone…" he whispered in shock.

The Whispers, the ever present voices in the back of his mind had stopped their incessant mumbling; leaving nothing but a vague sound in their absence. It was comparable to static, but not quite the same. Like… Like they were waiting for something.

…Or they were afraid.

"'Gone…?'" Musubi quoted curiously. "What do you mean, Minato-sama…?"

Hearing the girl so suddenly made him jump, cutting off his unsettling realizations like he'd been doused with water. Turning to face her made it worse, since that brought him eye-to-eye with Akitsu.

The quiet Sekirei was staring at him, eyes glinting like ice. It was like she was looking into his soul, and once again he was filled with fear at the thought she might know about the Whispers…

"Err, n-nothing," he said, waving his hands in denial, "It's nothing."

The brunette continued to look at him for a moment, curiosity clear in her gaze, before she visibly dismissed the thought as unimportant and smiled at him.

"Okay…!" she accepted readily. "Are we going into the Inn now?"

That was the question of the hour, wasn't it?

Some animal instinct told him not to enter, the Whispers' silence only reinforcing his dread at the very thought… But there was no logical reason to say 'no,' and every reason to say 'yes.'

Before he could make the decision, the door slid open.

"Ah," a stranger grunted in surprise. "New guests, I take it…?"

The stranger at the door was a young man, narrowly taller than Minato, with hair the color of ash and eyes that glinted like embers. His features seemed like they'd fallen from the daydreams of schoolgirls, but the dark expression on his face declared he was no Prince Charming. He was the bad boy fathers warned their daughters away from, no matter how the young women would be drawn in… Like moths to a flame.

"Normally I'd welcome you, but…" the stranger continued, eyes darting around shiftily. "...As it is… I'd suggest you turn around and walk away."

Brushing past Minato, the young man gave one last backward glance towards the trio as he walked away, hands in the pockets of his dark slacks.

"...Before it's too late."

The following day…

Takehito and Miya Asama seemed like very nice people. They had greeted Minato and the girls warmly the moment they'd stepped into the Inn and were more than open to the idea of having new residents. There was no contract with text too small to notice things hidden in the details and nothing disingenuous about their smiles. The price for staying there was more than affordable too, so long as they didn't mind assisting with the household chores. It almost seemed too good to be true.

…In fact, Minato was certain of it.

The Whispers had remained eerily silent since he'd set foot on the property, and after the warning they'd so blatantly received at the door… Well, it was clear why he was suspicious. Unfortunately, he didn't have much of a choice if he wanted to avoid being homeless in a few short days, and with two young women depending on him to keep them off the streets he wasn't going to turn down a chance like this just because of a bad feeling and a dramatic resident.

Which is why they were here, the very next day, boxes in hand at the door.

"Welcome back," Mrs. Asama said lightly, a gentle smile directed towards the girls at Minato's sides. "We've prepared rooms for you while you were gone."

Mrs. Asama was a very pretty woman, with long purple hair cut in a way that evoked the feeling of ancient nobles and a simple kimono to match the reserved style of the Inn. She looked every bit the Japanese housewife from several decades past, complete with a carefully controlled roster of expressions—ranging so widely as 'mildly raised eyebrow of disdain' to 'lip curled from amusement at your foolishness.' Truly, quite the impressive woman.

Minato had no idea how to interact with her.

"Rooms…?" Musubi asked, audibly confused. "Why would we need more than one?"

Minato pinked at the disdainful look he received from the older woman in response. It was not a subtle thing, for all that she masked it behind the sleeve of her kimono.

"I don't know how things were before, young lady, but while you are living with us there is to be nothing… inappropriate…" She said, finally pulling her judging gaze away from Minato, much to his relief. "Understood?"

Musubi clearly didn't, but she nodded anyway.

"Okay…!"

Akitsu, however, had other plans.

"But it's cold… sleeping alone…" she said softly.

Unexpectedly, Mrs. Asama was silent for several moments, watching the short-haired brunette with an indiscernible expression.

"There are no exceptions to the rules at Izumo Inn," she said, finally, turning around and stepping back inside. Pausing for them to follow, she gave Akitsu a look. "We also believe in the privacy of our guests; so long as there's no disturbance occurring, there should be no reason for myself or my husband to check where exactly our tenants are after dark."

Akitsu's smile may have been barely noticeable to most, but to Minato it looked brighter than the sun.

…Then it hit him that she was talking about sleeping with him, and he promptly looked away before the blood-vessels in his cheeks could explode.

…

The Asamas had a beautiful garden, Minato decided.

Pleasantly cut grass, stone pebble paths, a small pond for koi… He'd seen part of it when he'd first arrived, but the true grandeur of it hadn't hit until he'd settled down on the back porch. The girls were unpacking their things still, despite how little they actually owned. Minato had decided to put off laying out his own possessions, else he would still be there himself, but the reason the girls were taking so long was… unexpected, to say the least.

After a passing comment from Mrs. Asama about Feng Shui, Musubi had become determined to make her room 'perfectly balanced.' She didn't seem to understand the meditative practice of arranging her things in the right way, not that Minato did himself, but she'd taken a liking to their new landlady almost immediately and seemed eager to follow her advice regardless of her own interests. Of course, Akitsu had been dragged along for the ride, and now the both of them were receiving a lecture from the woman on the basics of the practice. Minato had begged off, citing a desire to explore the rest of the traditional building.

In truth, he hadn't wanted to spend more time in Mrs. Asama's presence. Something about her was off-putting to him, even if the Whispers refused to give him any clues as to why. She certainly didn't seem to like him, either, despite how kind she was to Akitsu and Musubi. Why they got along with her so much better than he did, he had no—

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled Minato from his thoughts.

"Done unpacking…?"

Mr. Asama was a kind man, already white-haired despite the fact he only looked to be closing in on thirty… though Minato was somewhat used to that oddity, given his mother's own appearance. The man wore a gray yukata, simple in a way that reflected his wife's own fashion sense, but had for some reason decided to wear a labcoat above it, draping it off his shoulders without putting his arms through the sleeves. Lastly, there were a multitude of bandages plastered across his body, extending from his sleeves and collar in a patchwork pattern that looked freshly applied for all of its cleanliness.

"Not yet, but I thought I'd leave the girls to it," Minato replied, turning back towards the garden as Mr. Asama gingerly lowered himself to sit nearby, "Your wife is explaining Feng Shui to them, so I thought it best to escape while I still could."

The white-haired man laughed at that, which was probably for the best. It would have been far more awkward if he realized that Minato hadn't been joking.

"Miya's always taken to Japanese traditions ever since we started dating, so I'm not surprised she's trying to indoctrinate those that are willing to listen," he replied. "They'll be stuck in the lecture until dinner time, I expect."

"Is Mrs. Asama not from Japan…?" Minato asked, confused by the older man's phrasing. The woman looked like a picture-perfect version of a traditional Japanese woman, to the point of it being kind of scary, honestly. No one was that perfect at maintaining an act.

"Oh, um…" Mr. Asama mumbled, expression sheepish like he'd said something he shouldn't have. "She wasn't raised here, is all, so she was rather out of touch with many of the things we take for granted, back when the two of us first met."

Oh. I guess that makes sense.

"What about you and… your situation…?" the man went on, changing the subject and giving the teen a knowing look. "How did that happen…?"

Minato's heart leaped into his throat. How could he possibly explain that to someone that didn't know about the Sekirei Plan…?!

"Erm, well… U-uh… I k-kind of met them by happenstance and… W-well… One thing led to another and…" Minato stuttered, completely unprepared to explain the situation without the handy simplification of 'they're Sekirei, how do you think…?'

He couldn't just tell the man, either. Not after Minaka requested it.

"Well, however it happened… Good luck surviving both of them. I can't imagine trying to get two women to get along in a relationship," Mr. Asama said with a shiver, eyes distant like he was recalling something unpleasant.

"It's… actually going surprisingly well," Minato stated after several moments of silence. "They both seem happy, at least. Even if…"

…Even if this is all just because of the Sekirei Plan.

Regardless of how the duo acted, no woman would be willing to share a partner in a relationship. He'd sure never heard of it, at least. Even from the perspective of the girls not being human, he just couldn't believe it.

"'Even if…?'" Mr. Asama quoted, a look of mild concern on his face.

Minato shook his head.

"It's nothing," he denied, "I'm just… overthinking things, is all."

It was obvious what the truth was. He just needed to accept it and move on. For now he was a member of this eccentric 'game,' and maybe if he entertained its host enough he'd get something good out of it. In the meantime, he should just enjoy the illusionary love and stop worrying about it all that much. He'd just met the two of them, for god's sake…!

…So why did the idea of it all being fake hurt this much?

…

The next several hours had passed pleasantly, spent chatting away with Mr. Asama about various things. Minato learned that the man and his wife were older than they looked, the both of them almost old enough to be Minato's parents. On top of that, the reason Mr. Asama knew Minaka was because they'd gone to University together, and had gone on to be some of the founding members of MBI before Mr. Asama had retired early due to injuries caused by a lab accident. It rather neatly explained how the man could be close enough friends with the eccentric C.E.O. to be recommended to Minato without knowing anything about the Sekirei Plan.

Now, however, it was time for dinner—a daily affair that all of the residents were invited to attend—and Minato had been sent upstairs in search of Akitsu and Musubi… Which led rather soundly to the present situation.

What. The. Hell…

Those words were the only thing Minato could concentrate upon as he stared at the ridiculous mess in front of him. Clothes, bedding, and various containers were strewn across a surprisingly large room—a sizable eight tatami expanse—with no semblance of order or logic in the heap. A messily arranged series of bedrolls occupied the center of the area, several blankets tossed haphazardly atop it with no regards to neatness or purpose, while the chaos' originator darted around the room like a dark-haired whirlwind.

Poor Akitsu was standing in the corner, arms held out at the waist, while various pieces of clothing and men's underwear hung loosely off her limbs, shoulders, and head. She seemed utterly lost for what to do at the moment, and the second he entered the room her gaze met his.

'Help…' her bewildered expression seemed to say.

"Uh… Musubi…?"

The whirlwind whipped to a stop, turning to face him with a gleeful look. Her ahoge stood straight up in delight as she looked at him, while the crumpled bed sheet she was tangled in only managed to make her into an even cuter disaster.

"Minato-sama…!" she exclaimed, rushing toward him with arms outstretched—

Whumph…!

Only for her feet to get caught on the bedsheet and trip her, resulting in an awkward faceplant on the thankfully soft tatami flooring.

"Weren't you two organizing your rooms with Mrs. Asama…?" he asked, bewildered by the situation.

"Yes… But… Musubi wished to help you unpack once Mrs. Asama left to prepare our meal…" Akitsu explained softly while Musubi struggled to untangle herself from the traitorous bedsheet.

Minato was caught between the annoyance that the girl had created such an unnecessary mess and the adorable way the brunette was looking at him proudly.

The cuteness won rather handily.

"You kept mumbling about studying when we were on the train before, so I thought you'd want your books out soon…!" the girl declared, pumping a fist in the air when she finally managed to untangle her foot. "But then I saw all of your clothes and I remembered what Mrs. Landlady was saying about 'Fang Shooey' and I thought you'd want those put out too!"

Minato faked a cough to hide his grin, trying and failing to smother his laughter.

"Right, well…" he began, a bit of a chuckle leaking into his words. "We can worry about that later. Dinner's ready."

The girl's eyes widened into saucers.

"Really…?!" she exclaimed, giddy with excitement. "Why didn't you say so sooner, Minato-sama…?!"

And then she was rushing past him, bounding down the hallway like a kid on a sugar rush. She stopped there briefly, looking at him and Akitsu impatiently. The duo shared a look, and Minato was surprised to see a glimpse of some amusement in the slight quirk of the passive woman's lips.

"We're coming…!" He called after Musubi, taking Akitsu's hand without thinking and starting down the hall. "There's no need to rush. The food isn't going to run away from the table…!"

"Really?! You're sure?!" the girl replied, and Minato was certain she was joking.

…Mostly.

The table was set when they arrived, Musubi skipping off to the kitchen almost immediately to look for the food itself, while Minato was more focused on the person already sitting at the table. She had one leg pulled close to her chest, arms wrapped around it as she nodded her head side to side to some unheard beat, smiling all the while as she waited for dinner to begin. Her hair was a brown several shades darker than Musubi's, dangling as far as her thighs but for the part of it she'd pulled into a ponytail on the side of her head. She wore a tight purple and pink t-shirt, a star emblazoned over her sizable bust, along with a pair of skinny jeans that were cut off at the knees, leaving just a bit of her stomach exposed because of the size of both garments.

She turned to face Minato the second he entered the room.

"Rather bold of you," she said teasingly, inclining her head toward Minato's hand… and the fact it was entwined with Akitsu's. "Being so degenerate when Miya's around…"

Minato leaped away from the ice-Sekirei like she'd burst into flames, horrified at himself for having grabbed the woman's hand without thinking, much less asking.

I've just met her…! He thought, the phrase already becoming a mantra. Just met her…!

"Ah… I… didn't mind…" Akitsu said softly, looking down at her hand almost in… disappointment?

God, what the hell was his life?

"I was just kidding, bro…!" the stranger laughed, shifting a bit in her chair. "Even Miya the Prude wouldn't care about something like that! Nothin' wrong with holding your girl's hand, man."

'But she's not,' part of him wanted to shout, even as another part of him agreed with the woman's statement far more than he liked; an echo of how possessive he'd felt over both girls when he'd first met them and heard the Whispers' call…

"Anyway, I take it you're the newbies, right?" the girl went on. "Name's Uzume. I've been living here for a while already, so feel free to ask if you've got any questions, 'mkay?"

"Thanks…" Minato mumbled, still a little red as he took a seat at the table.

Food arrived after a short wait, Musubi dogging Mrs. Asama's heels like an over-eager puppy, not that the woman seemed to mind all that much given the look of amusement she was giving the girl. Minato's mouth began to water once his meal was in front of him—simple but traditional fare. He'd not had a home cooked meal like this… Well, ever, really.

His mother certainly didn't have the time, and he couldn't cook anything better than the basic fare he'd learned in school. Seeing the mix of roasted fish, miso soup, rice, and assorted vegetables was like seeing a feast for the nineteen year-old ronin.

Somehow, their hostess had predicted Musubi's appetite, preparing what looked to be triple-portions for the girl's avaricious stomach. It was a good thing, too, since Musubi barely managed to restrain herself until the all-clear was given and everyone began to eat.

It was a quiet meal, a certain sense that they all had things to do afterward palpable in every clink of wooden chopsticks against ceramic bowls, but Minato couldn't quite resist asking a little more about his new living situation.

"Is this everyone that lives here…?" he asked after swallowing, thoughts drifting to the young man that had greeted him and the girls so oddly upon their initial arrival.

"Not quite, no," Mr. Asama denied, before continuing to work at a particularly chewy piece of fish.

"We have two other residents besides you three and Uzume here," his wife continued for him. "Kagari is typically out late because of his… job…"

Never had the word been said with such hesitance, as if what the young man did could barely be called such. What could he possibly be doing, Minato wondered.

"While our other resident is… very fond of her privacy, and tends to keep to herself," the woman finished, moving to pick at the contents of her rice bowl.

"Well… There's also—" Uzume began, only to get cut off immediately by a glare from Mrs. Asama.

"Ehe-he-he… Let's not talk about that, shall we?" The woman's husband chuckled awkwardly.

"Not talk about what…?" Musubi piped up, attention leaving her food for the first time since the meal had begun. She had several pieces of rice stuck to her cheeks, which were bulging out with the food currently in her mouth even as she spoke.

Minato wasn't sure if he should point it out or give in to the small voice in the back of his mind telling him to wipe the rice off himself, but before he could decide Mrs. Asama beat him to it.

"Nothing, Musubi-chan," the woman said with a genial smile as she pulled a handkerchief from nowhere to dab at the girl's cheeks. It was all very motherly. "We were just making small-talk."

With an ease that almost gave Minato whiplash, Mrs. Asama changed the subject.

"Now, I seem to recall that you mentioned an interest in martial arts, or something of the sort, yes…?"

Musubi's eyes veritably glittered.

"Well, if you're interested," the woman continued before Musubi could try and speak through the food she was chewing, "I believe I have a few wooden dummies in the garden shed. I used to do… Kendo, I suppose you could call it, and I never had the heart to throw them away when I gave up the… hobby. You're welcome to use them, if you'd like."

Swallowing the current bite, Musubi nodded so quickly it looked like her head may soon fly away.

"Thank you, Mrs. Landlady…!" she exclaimed happily, on the verge of leaping over the table to hug the woman until Minato placed a hand on her shoulder preemptively, halting the motion before it could begin.

"Do you have any hobbies, Akitsu…?" Uzume cut in, smirking at the casual way Minato had touched Musubi and prompting him to retract his hand like it'd been scalded by a stove.

"...Does watching Minato-sama count?"

The woman's response was so soft and blaise that Minato almost didn't process what she'd said at all… until it hit him, and he turned to stare at her in disbelief, along with everyone else at the table. Even the unflappable Mrs. Asama was looking at her, wide-eyed in surprise.

"Ah… Is that… odd…?" Akitsu asked innocently.

Uzume coughed out the word 'Yandere,' under her breath, while Mr. Asama mouthed 'Good Luck…!' at Minato quite blatantly, giving him a thumbs up as he did so.

"I-It… It's not… The most normal thing to s-say, Akitsu…" Minato said, finally.

The girl visibly drooped, as if she'd just been told Christmas was cancelled.

"...Oh."

"I'm sure we can find you a… healthier… alternative," Mrs. Asama offered. "Perhaps you would like to join me in the kitchen at some point…? Or maybe Uzume could introduce you to the wonders of fashion?"

Akitsu's only response was to turn to Minato, question evident in her ice-coloured eyes.

"̶͇̓.̷̢̀.̷̨͘.̸̨̍W̴̅͜a̵͔̋ṟ̴͂m̸̯̚…̵͙̓"̸͇͑

Minato flinched at her gaze, the Whispers in his ears entirely unexpected after their long period of silence.

"D-do what you like, Akitsu," he said outwardly, ignoring the way his heart beat just a little faster in his chest from the unexpected voices, "The point is for you to enjoy yourself, regardless of what you're doing. It's not a hobby if it isn't fun."

For a moment, the girl simply continued to stare, expression immutable… and then she nodded seriously, as if he'd just given sage wisdom that could only be understood after extensive study.

"...I will continue to watch Minato-sama," she declared matter-of-factly, and judging by the looks on everyone's faces, Minato was quite sure they all would have a sweatdrop rolling down the backs of their heads were this an anime.

"...However…" Akitsu continued after several moments. "Perhaps I could also…?"

She didn't clarify, eyes slipping between their hostess and Uzume hesitantly.

"Of course," Mrs. Asama nodded, "I would be happy to have you."

The thought of Akitsu shuffling along quietly in the kitchen, trying earnestly to learn from the woman, was enough to make Minato smile. He had a feeling that she would enjoy cooking, after a bit of adjustment.

"Anytime, dudette…!" Uzume added nonchalantly. "You'll knock the socks off'a your boy-toy here once I show you the ropes!"

…The thought of Akitsu learning 'fashion' from Uzume, on the other hand, was something that filled him with dread.

"Zzzzzz…" Musubi interrupted, letting out an obnoxious snore from her seat. Her plates and bowls had been picked clean, and her stomach was sticking out slightly like she'd eaten enough food for everyone else in the room combined… Which wasn't much of an exaggeration, actually.

She had somehow fallen asleep in the midst of everyone's conversation as well, and looked on the verge of slipping out of her chair and onto Minato's shoulder, as if some force had magnetized the two of them. It was quite adorable, if a bit absurd. Much like the girl was most of the time, really.

"Pfft…!" Mr. Asama snorted, leaning back in his own seat as a fit of laughter overwhelmed him.

"You gonna need any help getting her to her room, bro?" Uzume asked, vaguely restraining a few giggles of her own.

Minato facepalmed in reply, grumbling under his breath at Musubi's childish nature. Despite himself, he was smiling.

…

In the end, he'd convinced the others he didn't need any assistance moving the young woman. He and Akitsu had been more than enough to carry Musubi upstairs, the other girl helping him get the busty brunette up into his arms for a bridal carry and moving ahead to open doors and the like. He wasn't confident enough in his arm strength to go for a fireman's hold, nor was he going to risk a piggyback with how… loose… the girl's shrine maiden outfit could be around the chest area, so there was no other option available, despite the embarrassing association.

Still, it was a wonder that the girl didn't wake up the entire time. She continued to snore all the way up the stairs, letting out contented little giggles occasionally like she was a puppy having a dream. It became a problem, however, when they got her to her room.

Simply put, she wouldn't let him go. Like a crab in a barrel she'd latched onto his t-shirt with both hands and refused to release him. Every time he tried to pull away she'd let out a little whimper, and after the fourth try he couldn't bring himself to continue any more.

"Akitsu, could you get a blanket from my room…?" Minato said with a sigh. "I'm going to have to sit with her until she lets go, it seems."

He'd originally intended to try cracking open his schoolbooks… No, that was a lie. He probably would have wiled what little remained of the evening away through thinking about the mysterious 'Sekirei Plan' he'd found himself wrapped up in. The description he'd gotten from Minaka was quite vague, really, and he had no real idea what he was supposed to do going forward.

Despite the capabilities he'd seen at the park, he wasn't about to ask the girls to fight. That was insane! Powers out of a manga or not, they weren't soldiers. It wouldn't be right to force them to act like they were. Hell, with how they acted half the time he wasn't even sure they were all there in the head! Akitsu in particular seemed to have issues if the condition he'd found her in was any indication. How had she wound up there, in nothing but a bloodstained—

The woman in question returned to the room, blanket in tow. Sitting down next to Minato silently, she promptly wrapped it around the both of them, pulling Musubi's own blanket up on the girl as part of the same motion. All of this resulted in the three of them being in an odd pseudo-huddle, with Musubi's upper half on Minato's lap and Akitsu resting her head on his shoulder.

Minato hadn't even had a chance to protest before the setup was complete, and the look on Akitsu's face killed whatever words he may have had before they could even escape his mouth.

She was smiling. Openly and broadly, both of her hands hugged his arm to her chest, the blanket's weight pressing the both of them up against each other snugly.

"...Warm…" the girl whispered.

Grinning wryly, Minato sighed and shut his eyes, fully intent on waiting until the both of them were asleep before he could sneak off to bed himself. He knew better than to fight a battle he didn't even want to win in the first place.

'What am I going to do with these two…?' he thought, before he drifted off to sleep anyway.

…

Minato awoke in a panic, utterly certain that he was about to die.

There were a million blades at his throat, scraping along his skin with just enough restraint to avoid breaking the tender flesh. They spread across his body teasingly, a demented curiosity evident in their every stroke… and then they were gone, vanished into nothingness as suddenly as they had come.

Eyes wide, Minato looked around slowly like a mouse that had narrowly escaped the notice of a cat. There was nothing in the room with him, nothing that could have possibly made him feel like he had… until he heard it.

A single squeak of floorboards in the hallway, the aged wood betraying the presence of someone moving almost silently. Minato was on his feet in an instant, gingerly laying Akitsu beside Musubi and ensuring neither of them had woken up as he moved.

They could not be allowed to follow where he was going.

Cracking open the door narrowly, he half expected to be met with something sharp being jabbed through his skull… but there was nothing but creeping shadows there to greet him.

Izumo Inn was different at night.

Simple adornments and patterns along the sliding paper doors took on a new shape in the dark, their forms twisting under the dim light into something new and frightening. Eyes. Everywhere he could see, there were eyes. In the cracks of the walls he could see them; in the shape of the flooring he could see them; in the decorated doors he could see them. Eyes, as far as his own could see.

They remained still in the dark, but they watched. He was certain of it.

Frozen in place, he didn't move for what felt like forever. He didn't even dare to breathe under the gaze of a thousand eyes, watching him in concert… It was only when a drop of cold sweat beaded off his chin, hitting the floor with an audible note that made him jump, that the spell was broken.

The eyes remained, but he could not.

Steeling his courage, he moved towards the stairs, descending them with shaky steps. Never had he been so grateful for the habit of wearing socks indoors, as they muffled his motions and prevented most any sound so long as he moved gingerly.

What am I doing, he thought, heart beating so fast he could practically hear his pulse, this is a terrible idea!

The bottom of the stairs was even worse. The eyes had seemingly doubled in quantity, and everytime his focus moved from one to another he was certain that the first had moved to follow him. Still, he pressed on. Something was calling to him, he felt, and he needed to answer—needed to know.

Soon, he found himself before a door. It seemed older than every other he'd passed to get here: handles well-worn with time and use. Whatever was waiting for him, it waited on the other side. He should turn back. This, he knew… But he'd made his decision in the church.

There was no going back, now.

The inside of the room was by far the worst place in Izumo Inn, for it was empty. Not a living soul was present within, but more than that… Neither were there any eyes. They had abandoned this place, left it to the void, and he was making a very foolish decision to tread where even they feared to.

And down went Alice after it, he thought to himself as he stepped into that dreadful place, Never once considering how in the world she was to get out again…

There was an altar in the room, he realized, once his eyes had adjusted to the greater dark within. A grand thing of stone and linen, half-melted candles dotting its mantle. Not a one of them was lit, and he couldn't be sure if they'd last been used a minute ago or a century. Much like what he'd seen at the church, there was something at the center of the altar. Two somethings, in fact: a small chalice, hewn from polished stone, and a grand painting, hanging from the wall just behind the altar and covered in immaculately sewn silk.

The painting called to him. Look, it seemed to say, look at me.

He stared at it for several long moments, wondering at what lay there…

First, Minato decided stubbornly, I will look at the goblet.

He would not listen to the painting. It had no say in what he did, for it was he who was the explorer here. He who had braved the night, and the dark, and the eyes to arrive at this altar, and he would decide what he inspected first.

Stepping forward once again, he peered at the goblet silently. Normally, one would expect such a thing to be empty, or perhaps have some wine within it. After what he'd witnessed in the church, he had even considered the idea of blood congealing within the heavy thing.

Instead, there was a heart. Fresh and wet, it was still beating softly. Thump thump, it went, pumping nothing to nowhere as it sat there alone, thump thump.

Minato went white at once, hand coming up to his mouth as he tried to keep his stomach from rebelling. After a moment, he managed to force the bile down, shaking and trembling as he continued to stare.

What is this doing here, he wondered morbidly, Why would someone do such a thing…?

Slowly, as if pulled by an unseen force, his gaze rose to the painting.

Ah, he realized. Of course.

Unbidden, his hand came up of its own accord, rising to brush against the cloth that protected whatever terrible image lay behind it. What lies here, he wondered, What could be hidden behind the veil, that someone would offer up their heart…?

Slowly, his fingers curled around the fabric, and he began to pull—

"What are you doing in here…?"

Minato froze, and for the second time that night, he was certain he was about to die. Instead of a million blades, however, he felt the presence of one, the tip pressing up almost gently against his Adam's Apple. There was no demented curiosity here, only cold purpose.

"I-I… I was looking for the bathroom and I…" he lied, not daring to move, "I stumbled in here…"

After several terrifying moments, the blade slid back… but only an inch.

"Get out," the voice said, colder than Akitsu's ice ever could be.

Slowly, still far too aware of the blade at his throat, he turned around. And there Mrs. Asama stood, staring into his soul with a look that didn't belong on her warm features. It was a rabid thing in her eyes, like an animal on the verge of lashing out with no thought for constraints, or consequences, or—

Minato glanced back at the altar, less because he cared to look at its contents again and more because he was too frightened to meet the woman's gaze for a second longer than he already had.

Terror and confusion often make for good bedfellows, and what he saw once he tore his eyes away from the woman was a stark reminder of that fact. The altar was not gone, but it may as well have been for how different it looked. Stone and candles had been replaced with wood and incense, the beating of a tell-tale heart replaced by innocuous rice… and the covered painting… It had been replaced with a photograph, facedown in its simple frame.

Somehow, he'd found himself in the Asamas' family shrine.

"I-I, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Out," the woman repeated.

He complied instantly.

OUTTAKE: A Pleasant Morning

'What am I going to do with these two…?' he thought, before he drifted off to sleep anyway.

…

The sun shone through the windows of Izumo Inn gently, illuminating its varied rooms with a radiant glow. The sound of birdsong hung in the air as a pair perched in one of the trees scattered around the garden, serenading the neighborhood with dulcet tones. But that wasn't what had awoken Minato. No, as early morning rays abounded that particular honor went to a very different source.

O-Oh…!

At some point during the night, he'd apparently shifted positions; from seated to lying on his back. Of greater note was how that shift had affected the duo that had latched onto him the previous evening. Akitsu was pressed tightly against his side, smothering his arm with her body like a child with their favorite teddy bear. Musubi, on the other hand…

***ZZZzzzzz…***

The busty brunette had clambered up his torso, splayed across his chest like a particularly relaxed starfish. A bit of drool had dampened his shirt, but he was far more focused on the way her clothes had loosened overnight. It left him with quite the view, and one he couldn't quite pull his gaze away from despite the ensuing guilt.

Suddenly, the girl let out a snort, shifting a bit and obstructing the blessed valley. Blinking away his daze, Minato realized he was stuck here until the duo woke up. The thought of disturbing either of them was like disturbing a cat asleep on your lap… and much like a cat on your lap, they'd both positioned themselves in just the right way to be mildly uncomfortable.

That left him with the worst realization of all.

I… I really need to pee…

AN:

Another month, another chapter! How's that for consistency, eh? Eh?

Anyway, we've got another Minato chapter this time. Quite unfortunate given the last cliffhanger, isn't it? Well, you'll just have to wait until next time.

Additionally, a fun fact! This is the first chapter written with significant assistance from my Editor! The past two were mostly written by the time he joined the project, but from here on out it's all being reviewed by him closely.

Finally, here's your regularly scheduled shill for the Emerald Library (I have my own chat!) Feel free to join the server if you'd like to have a chat about any of my projects, on hiatus or not, or if you'd just like to yell at me about another update. I'm sure I could use the reminder.

Here's the scary link:

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖔𝔯𝔡.gg/elibrary

***Crrshhkt!***

Wa 'n sheit dinge.

Well, hello there. Sorry for the last time, reception has been kind of shitty here. Apparently concrete is not a good signal conductor.

Well anyways, been some time but I'm still alive. Luckily, mushrooms grow everywhere so food has not been a problem. They are a bit funky though.

How are you guys anyway, everything alright? I sadly still have to correct these demented story fragments but hopefully you've been enjoying them. It just made me want to have a cozy bed again after reading it. The floor is not made for sleeping on.

Also, that one guy asking if I speak Dutch. How dare you insult me in such a way. I will not tolerate taxation without representation! Het Vlaamse volk zal herrijzen uit de assen van het oranje rijk!

Well anyway, battery is running low so see you next time.

***Crrshhkt!***