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So hot. Moist, sticky, uncomfortable.
It was the same as every night. Wake up shaking, sweating, and paranoid out of his mind, hesitantly turn on the light, lest there be a monster, and then spend the next few hours until dawn starting at the slightest noise. It had been Mizuki’s routine for years now and somehow he wasn’t tired of it. The world was so quiet in the morning twilight, particularly so in Kanezaka. There was room for him to breathe.
Every time, he found himself wondering who else could be up with him. Bakers, construction workers, security guards. It’d always felt like they were silent companions, unknowingly comforting them with their unintentional presence. He didn’t like to be alone, much to everyone’s surprise. In fact, he despised it. There was too much time to think on his own actions, on his family, on what tormented him endlessly.
Wind rattled the fragile window panes loudly as rain lashed them. It’d been like this all night. Again, weather like this soothed him. Either it was mirroring how he felt inside, or it was a distraction from his depression. He slid further under his covers despite the terror-induced humidity he was imagining. Just get cozy again and you’ll be fine.
His phone flashed, illuminating the yellowing ceiling above his head, cracks and all. Hesitantly, he reached for it and was forced to squint as his eyes strained painfully at its brightness.
‘r u up?’
Kiriko. Of course. He debated on whether or not to reply. She knew that he supposedly struggled to sleep - he’d admitted to it after she’d commented on dark circles under his eyes. She just didn’t know about the nightmares. Death would take his hand before he told anyone about the nightmares.
But texting him in the middle of the night was a new one. The clock at the top of his screen told him it was 3:31AM, and equal parts confusion and excitement were building inside him as he continued considering his next move.
‘i can see u read my msg. no worries’
Was she that eager for a reply?
‘i’m awake. what is it?’ He decided to take the bait. Either it was something deathly important, or something completely ridiculous. Both were somewhat appealing to him.
‘cant sleep. would u like to join me for donuts?’ The message elicited a long sigh from Mizuki. Donuts. Of course. He stared at his screen for several moments, unsure what to respond with. Spending time with Kiriko was welcome, yet he couldn’t help but worry for both her blood sugar and teeth. If you don’t go, she’ll just eat more by herself. He gave in quickly. At least he could justify it to himself.
‘sure. but u really have to eat more than donuts.’
‘no promises i fear’
Rolling his eyes, he somewhat reluctantly slid out of bed. The apartment was cold, and his feet felt like they were on fire as they stepped onto the freezing floor: the Hashimoto really hated funding heating, apparently. As he shrugged on more appropriate clothes than his pajamas, he found himself hopping from foot to foot. Whether it was to keep himself warm, or out of anticipation, he didn’t know, but the shame of realising it led a rosy tint to invade his cheeks. Was it really that hard to remain nonchalant like he wanted? It wasn’t like anyone was watching him. Or so he hoped.
‘be there in 5.’
Kiriko’s response was immediate: ‘dont keep me waiting mizu :)’
That made his heart soar. Suddenly, the cold didn’t feel so bad on his tingling extremities and the stormy scene outside seemed a lot more bearable. Quickly, he pulled on a jacket and rushed out of the apartment, barely remembering to grab his keys and wallet in his haste. It’s not a date. But it meant something that was too deep for him to find any sense in it.
~~~
‘i’m here.’ Mizuki found himself too scared to ring the intercom to Kiriko’s apartment block. So much for being nonchalant. Maybe he could pass it off as being über-relaxed? There was little time for him to think about anything though, as she got down there nearly the moment after he’d sent the message. Teleportation. She really abuses that. But wouldn’t anyone else do the same thing if they were blessed by the fox spirit? He would.
“Come in, Mizu! It looks freezing out there - and wet.” Practically dragging him into the lobby, Kiriko greeted him warmly. She was not wrong about the weather; water dripped off his fringe steadily and he was fighting the shivers that threatened to dispel his aura. “I would hug you, but I don’t want to get wet.”
“Reasonable.” There was a worry that he would cover her floor in water beginning to take hold of him.
She herded him into the lift quickly, fingers pointing into his back so as to not get her whole hand damp. “I’ll get you a towel when we’re in.”
“Thanks, Kiriko. I stopped off at the convenience store on the way here, got you some snacks.” He lifted up a small plastic bag, crisps, strawberries and popcorn peaking out along with the brightly coloured packaging of other foods.
Grinning, she folded her arms. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
“What? No!” He insisted, eyes widened in mocking surprise. “It was all done on a whim.” Partially true. Buying it was on a whim, but he’d been thinking of getting her food for a while. Even if not all of it was necessarily healthy, it at least diversified her diet a little bit. “It’s all out of the kindness of my heart.” A sarcastically smug smirk slid across his face.
The lift dinged as they got to Kiriko’s floor, and he stepped behind to let her pass. “So chivalrous.” She batted her eyes at him gleefully.
“I just want to make sure I don’t walk into a random person’s apartment.” Shrugging, he followed her out of the lift. At that, she laughed, and it was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. The hallway was warm, both in temperature and colour. Cream walls and smooth lacquered wood. “This is well taken care of.” He observed, suddenly envious of her comfortable living.
“Right? The caretaker, Mr Yoshida, does a good job. He brings his granddaughter around often and she’s just the cutest.” There was a glow to Kiriko’s face as she spoke of them, voice radiating both care and pride. An unexpected pang of guilt hit Mizuki’s chest. You’ll have to hurt her in the end, one way or another. He shook it from himself, willing for no thoughts of that sort to ruin his time with her. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. At least with her, he didn’t need to worry about any spirits; on an almost daily basis now, she’d pray for him.
Her front door was just as inviting as the rest of the corridor had been: a shiny mahogany door, crisp panelling, a bronze peephole and handle. He’d never known such pleasures, and he found himself curious as to how she afforded it. It wasn’t like she had a job. But he bit his tongue; it was impolite to ask something so personal.
She opened the door, and it closed behind them with a satisfying click. Immediately, she vanished into a separate room as he took off his shoes, re-appearing near instantly with a fluffy white towel.
“You don’t mess around, do you? Thanks, Kiriko.” Tenderly, he rustled his hair with it, irrationally terrified of soiling it in any way. The apartment was just as he’d expected: well lived-in, with occasional small piles of clutter. Donuts sat on her kitchen counter along with an empty pizza box, on top of polished laminate. There was no grime in between the tiles, all the cushions were plump and the floor was swept. It was cozy. He liked it. He liked it a lot.
Will you have a home like this one day?
“Sorry about the mess… I asked you over a bit spontaneously. On a whim, as you say.” She gave him a sly smile, taking the towel as he held it back out to her.
“It’s okay, I don’t think it’s messy at all, actually.” It was the truth. He was amazed at how clean she had it, even with her stuff all over the place.
She raised an eyebrow. “You’re just saying that.” Her tone was doubtful, but something in her eyes said that the praise meant a lot. She put her hands onto his shoulders and drove him over to her sofa, plonking him down with minor force and taking the carrier bag out of his hand.
“Hey- You don’t need to do all this.” Protesting lightly, he moved to get back up, but she pushed him back down.
“You’re my guest.” Her voice was a warning, and Mizuki decided not to press it, instead relenting as he settled into the plush sofa. If she wanted to, then she could. It wasn’t like she was going to let him do anything anyway. He busied himself with looking around at more of her apartment. There was a photograph of what he assumed must be her and her mother next to another of her when she couldn’t have been older than eight standing between two older boys, one giving a large smile whilst the other frowned. There was something familiar about the serious one, yet he couldn’t place it.
A vase of crimson flowers sat on a shelf by the door, accompanied by several child drawings pinned to the wall. Could they be from the granddaughter of the caretaker? He was reminded of the story behind her headband, now hanging off a hook by a light switch. It’d all make sense.
An explosion of laughter interrupted his thoughts. “Did you just buy me groceries?” Kiriko was holding up a net of oranges.
“Maybe.” He shrugged, fighting his own itch to laugh.
“You really are something, Mizu. I can buy my own groceries, y’know.”
“Don’t act like you aren’t thankful.” His lips twitched up in a smirk as he listened to her. It was easy to tell from her reddened cheeks that she was deeply touched by his gift.
“You got it done pretty fast…” She enunciated the ‘pretty’, sarcastic doubt creeping into her tone.
“Oh, I had this planned for a while. I was getting kinda worried you were gonna turn into a donut.” He couldn’t fight back his own giggles now, particularly as she snorted at his admission.
“You’re not gonna ban me from eating donuts, are you?” There was a hilariously real level of worry in her voice, like donuts were now her life force. He wondered how she’d become so obsessed with them in the first place. Apparently the Fox Festival donuts were really good. Maybe they’d be enough to convert him, too. But he doubted it heavily.
“Oh, yes, definitely,” Mizuki gave an exaggerated nod, “even thinking about donuts is banned now.” He chuckled at the look on her face, equal parts pretend devastation and real concern.
She kept rooting through the bag, coming up with more oranges, apples, crackers, and even cheese. “I thought you were broke?”
Smiling, he waved his hand. “I find a way. I’ve been careful with my money this week.” The truth was he hadn’t been eating properly that week: the stove in his shitty apartment had gone bust and nobody had come to fix it yet. He’d been living off food from a hundred yen store.
“No more Lucky Lucky Good Luck amulets?” She asked quizzically, now walking over with a tray of donuts and some of the oranges.
“Oh no, still buying those.” A playful grin spread across his face again as he watched Kiriko’s face fall in hyperbolic disappointment.
“Ugh, I’m not even going to tell you to not buy them anymore.” She rolled her eyes, holding her head in her hands. Mizuki busied himself with peeling an orange with one hand whilst he patted her back with the other. “Are you sure you won’t even consider not buying them?”
“Nah, they work for me. Besides, it’s funny seeing you mad.” He nearly got a hand to the face at that, and ducked at the last moment. But she was laughing, and her hand had been going so slowly he wasn’t even sure if it’d have stung. Gently, he took her hand and pressed half the orange into it. She immediately put a slice on his lips, and he looked up, confused.
“They’re for you to enjoy too, Mizu.” She tilted the slice, cocking her head slightly. He was about to say he was more confused by the action rather than the meaning, but decided against it. She’d just use his open mouth to put it in anyway. Wordlessly, he parted his lips and she slid in the slice. A mischievous grin took over her face as he swallowed. “Thank you.”
“Weird way to give me food.” He remarked, leaning back into the cushions. There was an odd feeling in his stomach, not negative, but completely unreadable. That moment had felt… Intimate.
“Totally. But I thought it was funny. Do you want tea?” Kiriko seemed to shrug it off completely, only her eyes were unusually bright, and a dusty pink was sprinkled all over her cheeks.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.” As she moved back over to the counter and busied herself with the teapot, he let his mind wander. Whenever he was with Kiriko, it felt like she was running rings around him, part of a game he didn’t even know the name of. But it always seemed like she wanted him to take part. How can she hope for that when she gives no explanations? As open as she always was with him, she still felt so far out of reach. He yearned for them to be closer, for him to know her inner self.
“Have you ever been on a motorbike?” Kiriko jolted him out of his inner thoughts again, and he turned his head back to her. There was great precision in her movements over the stove, and something weirdly attractive about it. He looked down at his hands uncomfortably.
“Once or twice,” he responded, sounding a lot more relaxed than he felt, “why?”
“No reason.” The cheeky smile in her voice had him seriously doubting that. She had a bike; he’d seen her pulling up to Yōkai meetings on it often.
“Somehow I really doubt that.” He gave a slight smile as she came over carrying the teapot and 2 prettily patterned cups. They were thin, fluted china, covered with handpainted pink blossoms and rimmed with a gold paint. The slim handle felt terrifyingly fragile in his hands when she handed it to him, and he clenched his free fist tightly to stop the trembling that took over.
“Well…,” she hummed, “I was just wondering if you’d like to go for a ride on my bike with me.” Resembling a shy schoolgirl asking out her crush suddenly, she stood bashfully in front of him, hands folded together. You’ve never seen her like this with anyone.
Mizuki paused for a moment. Motorbikes were cool, but he was secretly entirely scared of them. So much could go wrong, and with his luck who knows what could happen to him. But this would be with Kiriko. Very little bad luck had come into his life since meeting her, and he swore that no spirits had gotten to him whenever they were together. Or are you just being selfish? He couldn’t think like that with her, not anymore. He knew safety lay within her space.
“Right now?” The rain had stopped, but the roads would still be sodden.
“If you want to, yeah.” It didn’t seem like she cared for that fact at all. Does she even have a helmet? Let alone two? Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t recall ever seeing one. “Come on, Mizu, I have the power of the Kitsune and being too cute to die on my side.” It was like she could read his thoughts, and he chuckled deeply.
“What about me?”
“Eh, you’ll be safe with me. I promise.” She replied in a sing-song voice, and he couldn’t help but trust her. Nothing could reach him if he was in proximity to her, he told himself. If he repeated it in his head enough times surely it had to come true. Placebo effect, right?
“I trust you.”
~~~
Never in his life had Mizuki both regretted and thanked himself for saying something more. Kiriko soared along the empty mountain road, squealing in excitement. He, on the other hand, was clinging to her waist like it was his life-jacket in the middle of the ocean.
“Kiriko, slow down!” He shouted over the roar of the engine and the scream of the wind. Her body acted as a windshield, but that didn't mean it wasn't nearly deafening. She obliged, and reduced them to a cruising speed. Still, he shook with nerves, barely summoning the strength to pull his head away from her back and glance out at the scenery around them.
So much for nonchalant.
“Isn't it beautiful?” She said quietly, barely audible above the bike’s engine. It was. Stars glinted warmly above them in an onyx sky. The mixed neon and yellow lights of Kanezaka shone brightly below, tradition and modernity blending into the unique mix that the town stood for. A slight hint of purple could be seen in the sky right on top of them, entire galaxies not yet stepped foot in. She'd look good in purple. She'd look good in anything.
“Yeah…” There was a growing warmth in his cheeks despite the chill, and he could barely breathe as one of her hands found his. “Not that it matters to me or anything, but is that safe?” He spluttered, knowing full well that she'd insist that yes, it was.
“Duh, I'm driving.” Laughing, she didn't take her eyes off the road, but squeezed his hand tightly. If he forgot everything that was always plaguing his mind, he could be happy in this moment. Happy. Mizuki liked that word. As sappy as it was, he always sought to bring happiness, in the end. To Kiriko, to the Yōkai, to the Hashimoto. Just never to himself. You should change that.
Absent-mindedly, he began to rub her thumb, and she said nothing. They hadn't passed a single vehicle once they were past Kanezaka’s limits, and he found unusual solace in their solitude. Only with her, could he find true peace. Even the spirits would stop chasing him, even if just momentarily. Is that a sign?
“Kiriko?”
“Yeah?” The bike slowed down slightly.
“Thanks. For inviting me over.” He wanted to speak softly, have a tender moment with her, but the loud nature of motorbikes made that impossible. It's the thought that counts.
“No worries.” The smile was audible in her voice, and he found himself grinning too. Nothing mattered right now, other than the two of them. There were no spirits, no Hashimoto, not even any of the Yōkai. A growing urge to express his deepest feelings for her was forcing it's way through Mizuki’s chest, and he panicked ever so slightly. It's not the time. It never will be the time.
But the way Kiriko held his hand now, so casually yet so affectionately, gave him the little spark of hope that there may be the right moment for that expression.
He realised his rubbing of her thumb, and the red on his cheeks only deepened. But she hadn't said anything, she hadn't even moved. So why should he? Halting the gentle touch he gave, he still maintained his hand under hers. The bike gave a burst of speed, and he clenched her waist harder.
She gave a whoop, and an explosive fit of laughter at his tight grip on her. “I didn't realise you'd be this scared, Mizu!”
“Bikes are a death trap, Kiriko, especially when it's wet and without a helmet!”
“We'll go home now, yeah!?” She yelled over the roar, and swerved through a tunnel. “Mizu! You have to lean with me, remember?”
Oh, he remembered alright. They shot down the mountain, the wind pulling Kiriko’s hair backwards and all about her face. Is this what flight feels like? Mizuki’s heart beat exhaustingly fast, leaving him breathless, yet he couldn't keep himself from laughing with her. She turned to check he wasn't actually screaming his head off, and everything seemed to slow down.
Jade hair whipped around, the smile on her face giving her the most beautiful glow he'd ever seen. Like a goddess. He froze the picture in his mind, ready to replay it every night before he attempted to sleep.
“Hey, keep your eyes on the road, you're making me feel special.” He smirked, enjoying how her eyes rolled and lips tutted. Pissing her off was one of his favourite past times.
“You're pushing your luck.” But she was giggling. The things he would do to hear that giggle everyday the rest of his life. Even a confessional wouldn't hear them.
“I wanna do this again.” He called as they slowed to come back into Kanezaka. Clearly, she was surprised.
“... Are you sure?”
“Even the speeding along unkempt, wet mountain roads with a girl who seems to keep getting distracted.” He jibed. But it was the truth; this was the most fun he'd had in a while.
“Hey! But sure, we can do it again. Just hope it doesn't ruin your sleep schedule.” They were getting close to Kiriko’s apartment, and he groaned inwardly at the thought of leaving. Asking to stay the night would be a step too far, and there was an orange glow on the horizon now, anyway.
“I didn't have much of one to begin with.”
Kiriko laughed again, pulling into her parking space. Mizuki hesitated to get off the bike. His arms fit so perfectly around her, and she still had not let go of his hand. Gently, he pulled away, slipping off and readjusting his shirt where it had ridden upwards. Turning to look at her, he sighed. Half-content and half-disappointed: these short escapades could never be enough.
“I do mean it. You can even feed me donuts.” He grinned.
“Oh, now I'm excited.” She beamed back at him, and widened her arms for a hug. You're so touch-deprived. Without missing a beat, he stepped into it, savouring her touch for the last time tonight. So desperate for her. Warmth encircled his entire being, letting his senses relax once more. Can it stay like this forever? Won't you turn on her in the end?
Mizuki moved back slightly to look her in the eyes. “Goodnight, Kiriko.”
“And you, Mizu. See you later?” The hope in her tone lifted his guilt-heavy soul. There seemed to be a light at the end of this tunnel, only shrouded by the innumerable abandoned vehicles along the way.
“See you later.” He affirmed. It's only a friendship. But the way she'd looked at him with those doe eyes seemed to say otherwise.