Note:
Flashbacks and thoughts in italics
I do not condone or encourage any behaviors in this story. It is simply a fictional story.
"The Art Of Water"
CHAPTER 7
Star Monster
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Utahime fastened her black hair into a messy bun and sat up to stretch her legs, moving quietly so she wouldn't alert the students practising on the premises.
She rushed past a couple of handmaids, hurrying outside to excuse herself from getting to work so early in the morning. Simply because she didn't want people to pry her with questions. It's only reasonable that she grab some sleep while she could. The last mission was hectic owing to the 1st-grade curse being fast and furious.
Whilst she mooched back to her room, she heard a teeny ping a few steps ahead of her. Kusakabe was scowling at his phone. She wondered why. "Go sleep. Not tired after yesterday?" She tiptoed over to him and touched his shoulders.
"Iori. Check your Espatch. Perhaps, you will find something thought-provoking. Like I did." Kusakabe nothing but spat, his eyes flashed with fury.
"It's so early in the morning for you to explode. I have a feeling that it's something terrible." Atsuya kept quiet.
Well, that was weird. Retracing her steps back to her room, Utahime unplugged the charger of her phone. Sure enough, there was an anonymous Espatch with a video clip attached to it.
Utahime dropped her phone. "What the fuck! GOJ—You got it too?"
At the door, she sensed a set of fringes falling out of an undone braid, a sturdy shadow splaying over the lines on the ground where her phone had fallen. Her face cocked up to Kamo's, his slightly downturned lips and open eyes staring outside the room.
He stood straight, arms clasped behind his messy head. "Of course. I'm the future head of my clan." The young man nodded with an unreadable frown on his face. "So it's true. Miwa and he have something going on."
"Oh right! If you think I know what's going on, you're wrong."
"I didn't think you would."
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"I love you too." There, she uttered to the rose twig that he fixed inside her braid. These days, he seemed to want to hear her say 'I like you more than 'I love you.'
"Pretty." He said for a second time. He pointed an arm at himself, prodding his chest through the hoodie, tugging at the neck. "It's so hot I'm going to get myself out of this cage." Ryusei liked games. He liked to play.
His eyes, which didn't bother to appreciate her existence the whole day, were like a shot now riveted on her, studying her intently as if he could see through her soul, so much so that in a trice, Miwa felt uncomfortable. What was with him?
Drained and happy on the evening of the culture festival, she had entered the first empty classroom she had found, throwing her uniform blazer onto one of the desks to collapse into a chair at the back. It didn't take much longer for her to fall asleep with her head on the desk. Kasumi had been startled awake when a wrist pressed into her shoulders from behind. She was surprised to see Ryusei pulling a chair out from underneath a desk with a squeak to sit across from her. Cheeks propped against one fisted arm, an elbow to the table, his heavy-lidded eyes glazed down at her resting face, as alluring as ever.
He replied in a low and breathy tenor, "I like you too." The harder a game is, the more challenging it gets. It wasn't until too late she knew how much he liked to play with hearts. He played with hers too. He only had to push a bit harder to run his love freaking truck over Kasumi's life, and oh boy, did he enjoy the game! His face had inched closer, voice low for only her ears to hear. "You know, Kasumi-chan. You can take it off too... If you want. The door is locked..."
Kasumi's breath hitched. "No. I'm okay." It wasn't until too late she knew that Ryusei only ever gave up after finishing off the game. A game which is first love, second sex. And Miwa wasn't anywhere ready for the second one.
She was lucky that day. The boy, her senpai snickered, amused. The corners of his eyes wrinkled in a devilishly handsome grin. "Holy shit. It was a joke. You should see the expression on your face. Like your dog died." Miwa snorted before her face lit up in a blithe laugh. She used to crack up at his jokes. Carefree, like a pink petal storm in spring.
Naive Miwa had only died later. She did mourn then. She had regretted only later for dismissing all the hints, all the signs and scarlet flags he had waved. A childish carelessness. Way later into their pseudo-relationship. She was cautious ever since.
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Her chest heaved up and down, wintry drops trickling through her nose after a session of planks and squats. The tanned figure bent down with her hands stretched down to touch her toes in a stand forward bent. Shirakawa's viridescent charm swirled amid every lane and every house. Tsuyu's breath caressed her weary muscles save for the plain romper clinging to her skin.
After finishing up her exercises, she practised some martial arts following her usual morning routine. The skies were an argentine blue, cleared of big white cats, moving scruff balls and cloudy turtles. Nobara cherished Sunday mornings.
She was familiar with the twitters, early morning sounds of grinders in the kitchen, water mills, and clonking of wooden pail handles. Tokyo was amazing. That is something Kugisaki would agree with should you ask her. Be as it may, no other place stood a chance against Shirakawa, her native soil, the pristine painting of solace in her eyes. Although it is not the oasis where she finally found a tonic for her chagrin.
The lass closed her eyes and meditated, feeling airy and bouncy as though the sunshine was eddying over her skin, irradiating her. At least, her childhood hadn't been that bad compared to certain people she knew.
The louvred doors banged open and out peeped a head of coiffed, coal black hair. The owner of it took quick long strides towards her, waving her hands at Nobara's face. Their grin got skewed when those agile hands of their lover caught the moving wrists in the blink of an eye.
"Can't believe you woke up at seven in the morning. I beat you."
As soon as those words escaped Nobara's mouth, the other's silly demeanour faded off.
"Where's my morning kiss?" While Nobara feigned an irritated scowl after pursing her lips for so long, the other let out a rough grunt and gazed down at her annoyed face, brandishing a cocksure grin of their own.
Then her darling chortled, drawing hearts on the brunette's chest in colors of exuberance, and Kugisaki couldn't help giggling as she laid back on the floor, tanning in the gentle sun.
"Maki, don't be sadistic."
Once more, that woman snorted again, an impassive expression gracing her smooth highlights, disregarding Nobara's saucy remark.
"I'm warmer than your grumpy ass." She was wearing a pair of cropped trousers and a grey tank top. "I can heat those cheeks in the bedroom if you let me." The material must be so flimsy, for Nobara could see the outline of her breasts. Is she not wearing a bra?
Nobara flushed such a great deal that Maki snickered, not wanting her woman to thaw into berry ketchup should this tease continue. Reluctantly embarrassed but challenged, with her free hand, she patted the Zenin's butt playfully, a stunt that undeniably pissed her off.
Nobara had been awaiting her arrival since last Friday night. Few out of every odd day will you get to do a mission in your birthplace. Nobara screamed through the phone when Maki agreed to join her on this nostalgic weekend getaway.
She could not have possibly anticipated her to set off from Tokyo this early. Maki's missions had forever been longer than normal ones. Craning her neck, Nobara took a quick peek in the nick of time to see her quirked eyebrows.
It was such an unexpected treat that she turned into Kugisaki's caring sweetheart, somebody who regarded her like she was worth the effort, somebody on whom she could lean on without feeling entirely broken. She was the lady whom Nobara could trust and be faithful to. Very much like she was to her. Maki wouldn't forsake her. Near her, she felt recognized, respected, and belonged.
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Laila had a great body. But he had met so many women with the similar statuesque figure. You could say she was drop-dead, just not enough for him. Upon hanging up the phone, he forced himself to settle to let the tightness in his shoulders go as the adrenaline in his system began to subside.
A cat crawled snug in his lap, mewling now and then. Combing through his hair with panache, he gloated at his reflection beyond the open sliding doors, at the long oval mirror attached to the dressing table in the abutting room. They used to meet up at Saverio's Italian Hotel for a while before both of them called it quits and went on with their lives. Nothing seems enough anymore, he kept searching for a specific taste, one he is sure he may never find. After reaching the point where practicality sinks into your brain, he is still searching. He is not tired of this, it's like grasping and wading in an overflowing river for catching fish. It's exciting.
His manager frowned closing a slim file. Ryu stopped swiping through his Glitter page to listen to the older man. "He was asking for you, said he needed to make sure you will be present tomorrow."
He stared at his manager's long red hair, contemplating a bit. "Let him know that I can't tomorrow." Ruffling the sheets covering his feet, the actor bit the inside of his cheek. "I have to return home. It's urgent."
"But you must stay in Hokkaido! I don't think he'll be happy about this."
Ryu and the man have openly railed against each other in the press, and the acrimony seems to have erupted on the set of "Wabi-Sabi" a few years ago. He and the director began to cross swords about how Ryu should play his character, and Ryu became belligerent. He reputedly threw nasty hissy fits on set, persistently threatening to quit the production. On one of the occasions, the man is said to have held Ryu at knifepoint to make him stay.
"Where is he?" When the guy called him "a difficult cunt." Ryu had replied with gusto: "It was a mesmerizing script. However, it's such a shame it got dealt with horribly. That motherfucker went and made the whole experience into a torment on another level." Hot under the collar, after the geezer gave him the impression that the role in "The Tokyo Heist " would be his, he deliberately chose Sasuke to be his leading man, instead of him.
"In room number 93."
"I'll deal with him." Reportedly, the two have since let bygones be bygones as Ryu starred in his Natsukashii series this year.
"Okay, Ryusei."
Author's Note:
Did you figure it out? Got the clue?
Sorry for the late and brief chapter. Since I had planned to make it longer, I suppose it has been in my draft for months. However, I decided not to make you guys wait any longer because I couldn't. But here's the thing: I've been working on a GojoMiwa Omegaverse fic. This story is still, without a doubt, my lovely. I just wanted to start the Omegaverse one right away.
wasabisama1234 & Yuzuki476, thanks for your reviews, they boosted me!