otomebubble

[otomebubble]

game-scares

itaru asks for (rare) emotional support during his horror game playthrough.

[Can you come up here? Please?]

Izumi was in the middle of making curry again, an experimental version she found from Chikausa's blog with Korean chili flakes, half a teaspoon of apple juice, and sweet sauce, when Itaru's message pinged her phone.

Turning off the stove, Izumi headed upstairs and peeked inside to see him curled on the couch, frozen.

"What's wrong?" Izumi's brow furrowed, stepping over the mess on the floor. 

Itaru usually didn't like to call anyone inside his room during his gamer's high-time, which made it all the more unusual when he summoned her. 

From what Izumi could see, the game on the screen was paused and Itaru was tapping mindlessly on his controller. When he finally noticed her, he opened his arms wide and gestured for her to come inside.

Izumi promptly sat beside him, but he subtly moved her between his legs so he could simultaneously wrap his arms around her, while still being able to hold the controller and look at the screen. Then he rested his head between her shoulder blades.

Itaru still didn't answer her question, so he pressed the [continue] and Izumi was immediately greeted with the sight of a gruesome hallway filled with blood and torn limbs. On the other end was a mysterious doll staring straight at the camera.

She flinched.

"Right?," Itaru muttered before navigating forward towards the mysterious end of the hallway and reading the letter the creepy doll was holding. "Give me a few minutes. I'll let you go after this scene."

Translation: I need my emotional support gf right now to get me through this particular game play but I will not admit this game has scared me shitless. 

Izumi didn't answer, somewhat curious by the game on screen. She stayed silent as Itaru navigated the corridors, read more letters and pieced more puzzles. Occasionally, there was an unruly shadow jumping out of the corner now and then, and they both jumped. But Itaru was firm, and he quickly ran away before the game could say "over." 

Although Izumi couldn't piece together the entire story, she could make out that Itaru's character was trapped between two worlds, an old school and a home, and that he was nearly done with this chapter.

During one particular scene, voices started emerging from somewhere, even though there was nothing on the screen before the scene glitched and they were back at the school once again, the empty, lifeless version.

A long hallway stretched before them, and the game was urging Itaru forward to open the white door at the end.

Itaru's character pushed the door open, which creaked loudly. Inside, one bulb was swinging back and forth from the ceiling, highlighting the single bathtub in the middle of the room, which was filled with blood and the body of a lifeless child. 

"Shit," Itaru cursed. Izumi grimaced. Itaru groped around once more, and before his character could turn around and exit the room, the screen shot back to the child, whose eyes immediately opened as the screen darkened.

Words appeared. 'To be continued…' it said in bloody, fine print. 

They both sighed heavily as the screen reverted to the main menu, and a cheery song started echoing around his room.

Itaru broke the silence. "This is why I don't like baths."

"What… what was that?" Izumi sounded breathless.

Itaru unwrapped his arms around her, which became more vicelike as the game continued and sat back on the couch again. "A Korean indie game my viewers wanted me to play. Based on a true story too, apparently." 

Izumi turned in his lap, and Itaru covered his eyes. "That last chapter was a bitch, but at least I finally finished it without dying." 

If anything, Itaru had never looked more done with a game before. 

Huh. 

Izumi cupped his cheeks, which made him look more pouty. "Well, good for you. Level cleared, right?"

He frowned. "It's not over. There's still part three to finish."

Itaru tiredly rubbed his hands over his face. "I don't think I'm gonna sleep well tonight."

Instead of comforting him, Izumi merely squirmed on his lap again. "Then, can I join you?"

"Absolutely. This is non-negotiable."

Okay then. 

[otomebubble]

marshmallow awakening

hisoka tries to wake up the director.

The director was sleeping on the couch. 

Moving closer, Hisoka kneeled beside Izumi's sleeping form, saw the arm hanging limply to the side, her mouth open in a silent 'o' with drool dripping down to her chin, and a piece of paper clutched on her stomach. 

Knowing that the director wouldn't want to be seen in this state, and the fact that the others would be coming home soon, in loud hordes, Hisoka figured he should wake her up before she gets startled.

Curiously, Hisoka plucked a marshmallow from the bag he was carrying, and plopped it in her mouth. It momentarily stopped her drool, and he sat back to wait the rest of her reaction.

Izumi did not spat it out angrily like Chikage, who promised murder when he opened his eyes, or chewed thoughtfully like Homare, who merely frowned before turning over in his sleep. 

Instead, Izumi stayed in her position for a bit longer, her mouth working around the small piece, as if trying to understand what was going on. Then her brows furrowed, sucking the rest of the marshmallow, and chewing slowly. Groaning, she turned over to face him from her position on the couch.

"This isn't curry…," Izumi mumbled unhappily into the air, perhaps directing it to him. 

Silence settled for a minute, before her eyes finally shot open, and Izumi immediately sat up.

"Oh my god. The curry!"

Hisoka couldn't help himself. He huffed out a small laugh. "Cute." 

"Eh? Hisoka-kun?"

[otomebubble]

boss fight

itaru takes out his frustration through another means.

Itaru was so thoroughly distracted, tense and alert for hidden enemies, that he didn't realize he was already standing in front of his mission location, until his phone started vibrating. 

Pulling it out of his side-pocket, he saw the two rapidly blinking red figures standing in front of the marked x on the screen. Besides alerting Itaru for his missions and enemies, the smartphone also showcased a miniature map of the 24th floor, with countless corridors and hotspots clustered with monsters that he was desperately trying to avoid.

Shoving his phone aside, Itaru scanned the hallway he left behind, before analyzing the area in front of him.

A glass wall blocked his entrance, but Itaru could see the room inside was empty, with lone cubicles, scattered supplies and overhead lights that flickered on and off. To his left was a glass door with an electronic code lock, which probably required the password he acquired earlier.

Beside him, Izumi moved closer, pressing herself against the glass. For a minute, he watched her tiny form, hovering in space with the wings on her back flickering from blue to red to green, a sign she was feeling agitated by something, and scanning the area for traces of mana. 

Gosh. Even in her miniature faerie form, she was adorable. 

Before he could stop himself, Itaru patted her tiny head with one finger, a gesture meant to wave her concerns away, and because he couldn't help himself. 

As Izumi reached for a lock of his hair to tug painfully in retaliation, Itaru simply moved away and punched in the code for the glass room before them. Standing back, he braced himself as the doors slid open with a hiss.

When he took a step inside, he was immediately ambushed by several black shadowy wraiths, remnants of an old demonic power, swaying in the wind and determined to destroy him. He deftly avoided them, sliding to the left and slicing them down with the katana on his back one by one. Like an indescribable tingle, he could feel his experience rise at the same time he cut down their health points. 

By the time he reached Chikage's desk, however, Itaru was breathing heavily, and leaning against the desk for support. 

When he turned, he felt another sensation pass through him, a lightness that made it easier to breathe again, and his muscles relaxing. 

Izumi's healing magic.

Itaru felt his mana power and health points recover fully to 100%.

"Thanks," Itaru shot her a grin. 

Izumi tilted her head to the side. "No problem." 

It wasn't hard to distinguish Senpai's desk, neat, unobtrusive, and free of personal belongings, minus the obviously misplaced spice rack in the center and a laptop, which was locked with a password.

Itaru flipped the laptop open, typed in the special words they learned from the Spice Quest an hour earlier, and watched as the second drawer on his left automatically slid open.

Quickly, Itaru fished for the item inside, which was a shining, silver coin. Words flashed before him, bright bold letters that he let wash over his consciousness. 

[You have earned Chikage's coin. This will allow you to summon him in battle now.] 

The coin flickered out of existence, and he let himself sigh in relief. 

On their way to the first floor, Itaru reviewed the objects they've collected for the past hours, sliding his smartphone open to the [summons] category, while Izumi peered over his shoulder.

Itaru was frowning at Masumi's earphones, mildly annoyed with his stats, including his strengths and weaknesses in battle. As much Itaru loathed to admit it, the boy dealt extra damage with his sharp tongue and quick reflexes. Masumi's versatility with various weapons made him a useful summon, if only the boy wasn't distracted by the tiny faerie every three seconds, and actually followed Itaru's orders for once, instead of cutting him down (accidentally) every three seconds. 

Itaru swiped to the next photo, and Citron Jr's empty, but endearing eyes stared back at him. This particular stuffed item took longer to acquire, since it involved a lot of trekking in areas outside the office building, but he needed Citron, who immensely doubled Izumi's offensive magic. The downside was that they still lacked the complementary weapon for him, unlockable only through a secret quest, which they have yet to find. 

Then, there was Senpai, whose stats were overpowered even as a summon character, and whose particular item took hours to acquire because of various boss-level monsters on the way to the 24th floor, and a handful of secret Spice Quests that only crazy spice lovers could recognize. But Itaru needed him in particular if he planned to win the final mission.

Mildly satisfied with his inspection, Itaru swiped over to his profile, scanning his stats, and making sure they were at their maximum limit, as well as seeing if his weapons were all updated at a level he preferred.

Itaru suddenly felt Izumi bouncing on his shoulders, trying to get his attention. Her hand was pointing at something on screen. "You could do some more antidote potions and buffers. And the Bane of Demons could use more improvement."

Itaru contemplated that for a moment, before he shook his head. 

"It's fine."

Izumi stomped her tiny foot in protest, wings fluttering in a red color. "But-"

"It's fine," Itaru reassured her again. "I'm not going to use Bane of Demons anyway. It's too heavy for me in battle. I plan to switch it out with Saint's Protection at the Final End."

He also did not want to admit that he would rather not trek back to a specific location in the office, and hunt down extra materials for a weapon he didn't favor- materials also likely guarded by an annoying monster boss.

Itaru didn't want to admit he was feeling too lazy to get them, actually.

Izumi still didn't look appeased for some reason.

Aiming to distract her, he leaned in closer. "Are you worried about me, director?"

She glared at him. "I don't want you to die!"

He couldn't help but tease her now. "But you promised to protect me, didn't you?"

Before Izumi could retort, the elevator doors dinged open, signaling their arrival at the first floor.

Tsuzuru greeted them with a disgruntled look behind the reception desk, his impeccable striped suit and glasses different from his usual getup. Beside him, Sakuya waved happily, hair slicked back and also wearing a formal business suit. The two reminded him of college interns that were hired by his company sometimes. 

With a sigh, Tsuzuru pulled out his notebook, which acted as a save-point. "What did you do?"

"Finally got senpai's coin," Itaru smirked. "Thanks for the hint."

Tsuzuru sighed, writing down Itaru's accounts of the various marshmallow bosses near the 24th floor elevators, the hidden password, and other latest bouts of defeat against the enemies since they last met. Out of the corner of his eye, Itaru saw Izumi float to Sakuya's side. The tell tale ding inside his head signaled an additional item in his inventory, followed by several more dings, as Izumi proceeded to haggle with Sakuya for items.

Itaru's lips quirked. She was buying materials for him again, despite his insistence that they would be fine for the last battle, and that he could handle it. 

Izumi was still studiously ignoring him, however, happily chatting with Sakuya now, as Tsuzuru prodded him to continue to recall his epic battles.

By the time they were finished with their last-minute business, Tsuzuru finally handed him the code to the basement for the final mission.

Once they stepped off the elevator that led to the basement, Itaru found himself standing inside a battle arena. Instead of an empty, dim parking lot, they were surrounded by empty metal seats that circled the entire perimeter from top to bottom, with a huge spotlight in the middle of the dirt floor. Itaru's shoes clanged as he crossed the metal bridge, stopping just near the edge of the circular arena, and he felt Izumi tense in anticipation for an immediate threat.

A second later, an old man stepped out of the darkness, the spotlight highlighting his shiny bald head. He was dressed similarly in formal business attire, the navy suit failing to hide his bulging middle, and his left arm replaced by a mechanized laser beam gun. There were also several weapons floating behind him, from pickaxes to heavy clubs.

"Must we do this, Chigasaki-san?" The voice echoed across the floor.

"I'm afraid I have to insist," Itaru replied curtly, shifting his stance to an offensive one, and summoning his preferred weapon.

The old man sighed. "Very well."

Itaru heard the first notes of a choir nearby, jarring and angry. Sounds of a hiss followed, the metal bridge behind them moving away to block their exits. Then, the old man finally summoned several wraiths, their forms swaying eerily as they blocked Itaru's path. 

Itaru breathed in slowly as Izumi showered them in a protection buffer, a red shell closing around them both, followed by numbers flashing in his head as his stats started rising. Another large health bar appeared on the left side of his periphery, indicating the enemies' strength.

Itaru didn't think; he simply charged. 

"Stop giving me overtime work!" Itaru bellowed, and aimed for the weakest points. 

Itaru didn't know how long the fight had been going on - minutes, hours, or days - but he was breathing heavily around the boss' second form, feeling the last vestiges of his health points struggling to rise, as well as losing his concentration.

Somewhere in the middle of the battle, he vaguely remembered Chikage dealing massive damage, completely destroying the mechanized arm, but they were still struggling, especially when Itaru realized his health was depleting at a faster rate compared to his boss, and they hadn't even unleashed their third form yet. 

Izumi provided MP and healing as much as she could, aiming her offensive magic to the enemy as well as providing protection for the remaining party members, but she was depleting her power too fast, and since her health was tied to his, she was also, essentially, losing strength like him. 

Out of the corner of her eye, he saw her faerie lights blinking in and out, and Masumi catching her tiny form just in time before she fell to the ground. 

Goddammit. This was so fucking annoying.

With a grunt, Itaru brought himself forward and sliced the nearest enemy in front of him.

"Get fucked, assholes!" Itaru threw a potion at the enemy lines that cut their damage in half, and charged into the fray.

By the time they reached the boss' third form, however, which resembled a demonic robot with metal wings, his party was partially obliterated, and the last of their healing potions was dwindling to an alarming level. Masumi was out of commission since the last battle, and because Itaru refused to waste any more of their revival magic on him. Chikage's health bar was also struggling to heal faster than usual, even with the additional healing potions and speeded recovery time magic on his person.

Before he could move again, there was a sudden inexplicable, blinding, white light that promptly brought Itaru down to his knees, and paralyzed him to the ground.

Unable to stop the pain coursing through him, he hissed in pain and clutched his chest.

What the actual fuck.

Somewhere in the distance, Itaru thought he heard Izumi screaming his name, but he couldn't answer her for some reason, and he briefly wondered if he could just re-download this sequence again.

"Itaru! Itaru! Itaruu!"

"Itaru?"

Someone shook him again. "Itaru-san?"

He gasped awake.

Itaru found himself staring at the black television, leaning back helplessly on the couch, and still wearing his office attire. He felt something wet across his cheek; he wiped it away, before realizing it was drool, and made a face. Something shifted beside him, and he turned to see the director staring at him worriedly. 

"Good evening," she started carefully. "You okay?"

It took Itaru one more second to piece that he fell asleep in the living room before he could make it back to his suite, and Izumi was watching him throughout the entire time. 

"I didn't want to wake you, but you started getting restless and I was worried," she filled in the silence. 

Confused, he scratched his cheek. "I see."

He was still feeling groggy, but he was conscious enough to remember fighting a flying mechanized version of one of his supervisors from work, demanding some form of compensation, and he didn't feel like explaining it somehow. So, Itaru mustered some semblance of a reassuring smile at the director and reached for his suitcase on the coffee table.

Wearily and slowly, he stood up. "I think I'll head up. I've troubled you enough, haven't I?"

Before he could make for the doors, he felt something tug at the cuff of his suit jacket.

"Wait!"

Izumi stood before him, a line of worry appearing on her face again.

"Itaru-san, I know it's impossible to ask, but please go to sleep tonight." Izumi gestured at his face. "You look so exhausted. Please."

Just like that, Itaru's shoulders suddenly dropped, feeling the weight of workload and projects catch up to him at once. He wanted to sink back to the couch again, and never move. He felt tired, in ways words couldn't explain, but Izumi asking him to take a break for once made him reconsider.

Maybe he could afford a few drops in his rank tonight… It won't hurt him, will it?

Izumi was still regarding him carefully, waiting for his response. Unable to help himself, Itaru also reached for her, and patted the top of her head to regain some of his needed HP and MP refill.

Izumi, the healing fairy.

"Okay," His lips curved gently in a soft smile. "You go to bed too. It's getting late."

"Promise me! I don't want you to fall asleep during warm-ups tomorrow," Izumi called out to him again, when he turned away to leave the living room.

Itaru waved a hand, and drawled sleepily, "Yes, yes. Goodnight, fairy."

[otomebubble]

insufferable view

izumi helps itaru clean up after an accident.

Itaru was a mess. 

Izumi watched as another piece of chicken, previously stuck in his hair, fell uselessly to the ground, followed shortly by the dripping sauce. From head to toe, he was covered in what was previously known as their dinner, the honey flavored curry being an unusually stickier substance, and clinging stubbornly to Itaru's hair, face, white-collared shirt, and suit pants. 

An incident occurred some fifteen minutes ago, one that involved Kamekichi, some super glue, an innocent passerby (Itaru), and the pot she left on the stove for their dinner that night. None were forthcoming with their explanations for some reason, because the perpetrators suddenly busied themselves with cleaning, even as they suddenly refused to meet her gaze, which is why she was stuck helping Itaru who appeared to have taken a shower with her latest curry creation.

She could sense him fuming, even as he remained compliant under her touch, and as she continued to sit beside him, wiping away every inch of his face with a wet cloth. Her heart was slowly dying, however, at every piece of meat and sauce being thrown away.

Even while helping him clean, however, Izumi couldn't help but marvel at his pretty face and clear skin. 

He was pretty, far too pretty for his own good. It was a face that could con so many people, and worked to his advantage in so many ways. She wondered badly what it was like to live with a face like his, to be wearing it for one day. 

Regardless, she was so focused inside her own thoughts, Izumi didn't realize the close proximity of their faces, or the way Itaru's mouth was suddenly curving up in a slow smile. 

He lifted his eyebrows innocently. "Enjoying the view?"

Izumi blinked once out of her concentration, twice again to see Itaru's cheeky expression, before blushing hotly, pushing herself away, and standing up.

Nevermind. He can do this himself.

Dropping the cloth between his legs, she made a hasty retreat under the pretense to see what the rest were doing with the mess inside.

[otomebubble]

one-time thing

the one time izumi used the "misunderstanding" for their benefit.

Izumi’s sudden gasp was the only thing that had him suddenly pausing.

Chikage was in the middle of taking his signature photo for the Chikausa blog, hand lifting a spoonful of the Sichuan hotpot sauce with its shiny, red liquid, and angling the camera phone in perfect lighting when the director let out an unusual noise across the table that didn’t sound anything like joy.

He watched her eyes flicker nervously back and forth at the massive Sichuan hotpot gurgling between them, the stacks of empty plates on her left side, and the receipt laid right next to her. 

Chikage lowered the spoon on his plate, and placed his phone aside. "What's wrong?" 

Izumi avoided his gaze. "I-” 

A young-looking waitress approached their table, and stared, rather obviously, at the bill holder on Izumi’s side, waiting for a response. 

Ignoring the waitress, who now eyed Izumi rather smugly, Chikage snatched it and scanned its contents. He couldn’t stop himself from lifting a suspicious eyebrow at the total: 10,000 yen. 

Okay, so maybe they were enjoying their meal a little too much.

Chikage contemplated the wide bowl in front of him, the red, shiny color swirling with vegetables, meat, and the perfect blend of his favorite spices in one gastronomic ecstasy, and then he stared at Izumi, who was biting her lower lip in worry, maybe thinking of a solution. 

This Sichuan hotpot restaurant was something he couldn’t wait to share with her, a place he stumbled upon during his out-of-the-office business travels, with a client who shared the name and insisted on holding their “meeting” in this unobtrusive place. The Chinese-Japanese fusion restaurant was something that opened recently, but it was rather pricey for its food, and half of its customers usually consisted of megamillion CEOs, heirs with too much money and time on their hands, as well as seedy businessmen. Still, its spicy, expensive meals have somehow managed to win his approval. 

When he mentioned it in passing (along with a list of her favorite spices in their famous hotpot), Izumi immediately jumped at the chance of trying it out. Halfway through their meal, however, Izumi wondered aloud if she could recreate the same thing at home, and Chikage allowed himself to imagine a curry-Sichuan-hotpot-fusion, the others’ look of abject horror at the red, shiny color, Hisoka glaring at him for allowing such a thing to exist in their home, and Izumi, hair tied in a messy bun, smiling widely while cooking. 

Chikage shook his head in amusement. The idea of torturing everybody with her was...fun.

But he didn’t want her first time here to be marred by such an unexpected… trouble.

Before he could ask the waitress to recheck their bill again, while he tried to think of an excuse as well as another method to pay their pricey bill, Izumi jumped in.

“Actually,” She started in a high-pitched tone. "W-we're getting married. Soon." 

His brain stopped working.

"So, I - we would like a couple's discount for our meals."

There was a pause in the conversation, as if no one exactly knew how to continue.

The server looked at her doubtfully, eyeing her empty ring finger, but Chikage immediately reached across the table, and covered her left hand. Izumi didn’t pull away, even as the rest of her face turned slightly redder than before. 

As easy as breathing, he slipped into the role again, and stroked her hands lovingly. “Yes. We are getting married.”

Izumi met his gaze across the table, eyes-widening slightly at the sudden soft tone in his voice, as well scanning his expression for something suspicious. Chikage continued to hold her gaze, and refused to look away. For a long moment, they stared at each other. 

A small smile eventually escaped his lips, however, and her brown eyes narrowed. 

The server interrupted, her voice sounded irritated. "I see. I will go and recalculate everything." 

The total finally went down to half its number. 

By the time they went outside, the cold started picking up again and they walked in silence until they reached his car.

"So…" 

"Please shut up." Izumi shot him a glare. "That excuse was a one-time thing."

Chikage smirked and veered the topic to another direction.

“I just wanted to ask if you enjoyed it." 

Now, she couldn't suppress the grin on her face. "Yes!" 

Chikage didn't try to hide his either. 

"But maybe, next time, choose a place somewhere less expensive?"

[otomebubble]

nonsense

izumi catches chikage off-guard by her honest (drunken) nonsense.

It was a rare occurrence for Chikage to join Izumi for drinks, but it was happening. As such, he was also becoming privy to her drinking habits: picking a fight with everyone within a mile radius. 

There was a part of him that found it amusing, if not for the fact he was now in charge of hauling her away from the bar, because she was beginning to talk in loud volumes, and disturbing the other customers. Before she could argue the rest of her points about The Grapevine to a group of office workers, and why it happened to be the greatest stage play ever but the director was a “lousy, son of a bitch” for changing the male lead actor, he bribed her away with the promise of curry to erase the alcohol in her system. 

Now, she was giggling, half-singing, half-humming a ridiculous song about spices, in alphabetical order, he might add, and generally being excited at the prospect of eating curry again past midnight. He was walking a few steps back, when Izumi finally stopped her song and started skipping instead.

Chikage couldn't find it in himself to get drunk, however, opting for one drink, as if instinctively he had to look out for the director. Still, he couldn’t quite hide the amusement on his face from her antics. Part of him wanted to pull his phone out, take a snapshot of the moment, but hesitated.

As if she suddenly sensed his untoward thoughts about her, Izumi paused in her tracks and stared at him in concentration.

Chikage tilted his head, regarding her carefully, and watched her brows pinch together in seriousness. The backdrop of the city lights surrounded her in a halo of reds, yellows, and greens. Cars passed by, along with the late-night wanderers, but Izumi was in her own little world, arms crossed, and contemplated something in her mind.

Chikage simply waited, a small wind brushing a lock of his hair away, and his face half-hidden in the shadow of the buildings. 

“Yes?,” He prompted, hoping to bring her out of her stupor. 

Without warning, Izumi closed the distance and reached for him.

"Don't leave," Izumi pouted, grabbing the lapels of his jacket. "You can't leave Mankai."

Was she still worried he was going to disappear one day and never come back?

Why, all of a sudden?

Chikage’s lips curled softly, decidedly curious about her reasoning. “And why not?”

Izumi's brow furrowed again. "Your…family. Here. You can't leave them."

She dipped her head, before looking up at him again and poked him in the chest empathetically. "You can't leave me."

Izumi held his gaze in earnestness, a flicker of worry crossing her face, even while something else lurked behind her eyes. 

Chikage blinked slowly. Something tugged in his chest but he ignored it, figuring it wasn't worth the inspection right now. 

Izumi only continued. “...Who’s gonna side with me when it's time to make curry? Everyone always makes fun of my curry obsession!" 

The moment was gone, and Chikage could only blink, dumbfounded by her sudden declaration. 

“Except Masumi-kun, who else would be on my side?,” Izumi shook him, the traces of seriousness gone from her voice replaced by drunken nonsensical arguments that only made sense to her. 

For a minute, Chikage could only stare at her in disappointment. Then, he closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed deeply.

The director was losing it.

He started to reach for her arm, to remove the fists gripping his jacket so tightly, but Izumi batted it away. Half a second later, she was barfing on the sidewalk, and he rubbed comforting circles on her back. Before she could fall flat on her face, Chikage scooped her up into his arms.

"My head hurts," Izumi half-murmured, half-groaned, into his shoulders. 

He rolled his eyes, a slight annoyance blossoming in chest that he couldn't suppress. Chikage needed to get her home, immediately.

[otomebubble]

dialogue choices

it was a dangerous encounter in the night, and itaru was mentally reviewing his options.

Itaru came back home with a headache, and a massive desire to burn something to the ground, particularly the past few hours. The walk from the station did nothing to ease his dizziness, even after several miles of stumbling, trying not to face-plant onto the ground, or throw up in the middle of the sidewalk. The company dinner, in which he watched his superiors make asses of themselves again, was nothing short of hell as he charmed clients, downed alcohol like water, all the while forcing himself to play the part of a good little employee. 

He could've avoided said dinner company, he reminded himself, if he didn't have a bad habit of sucking up to them as usual, and prove his capabilities. 

Rubbing his temples, he wanted to vanish in his bed, or reverse time again to redo the past evening, but the pounding in his head told him to make a quick stop by the kitchen for some painkillers, and water. Lots of water.

"I'm home… " He called uselessly into the night. 

He couldn't help but briefly notice the eerie silence, the dim lights inside, but merely summed it up to the residents sleeping in this ungodly hour already, which was a surprise for once.

He was in the process of removing his shoes, when he heard footsteps padding closer. A moment later, Izumi's head popped out, arms crossed, and regarding him rather intensely. 

She was dressed in her usual nightwear, blue pajamas, loose white cotton shirt, a blue cardigan on her shoulders, and Kareko-chan themed slippers on her feet. Her hair was pulled to the side, but strands were flying everywhere, as she continued eyeing him suspiciously.

Itaru couldn't help but smirk as she continued watching him, while loosening his tie. 

"Direct-"

Itaru didn't have time to react properly, much less brace himself when the director suddenly slammed the wall behind him, and trapped him between her arms.

His half drunken mind could only summarize the following: 

Izumi used Kabedon. 

Attack Power: 75

Damage Taken: 25

Effect: Heart-rate shot up quickly.

There was a dark look on her face, however, when she looked up at him. "Where the fuck have you been?"

The cursing somehow had a sobering effect, much more quicker than water, but at the same time, he couldn't answer quickly enough. Instead, he blinked dumbly at her actions, as she continued pressing him against the wall like this.

He wanted to blame the alcohol for his slow response, but he really couldn't think anymore, with Izumi glaring up at him, trapped between her arms, and oblivious to her nightshirt falling subtly open in the front to reveal the pink-laced bra underneath, one his mind couldn't help but remember from a week ago.

Her face only darkened. "What the fuck are you looking at?"

In response, Itaru stiffened. 

If he was in control of his faculties, he would question the absurdity of Izumi's behavior right now, and help her get a hold of herself. Instead, Itaru flinched as Izumi pressed herself closer, and his heart started pounding again, but for a different reason. 

His mind also couldn't help but remember the time he pressed her against the wall like this, like a bad romance trope, and wondered if she felt an inch of fear for her life too.

Was this karma?

Like an important sequence in a video game, his mind couldn't help reviewing the dialogue options, one that might save his life, or lead to the bad ending.

Option A: I just came back from a company meeting slash dinner

Option B: Director, good evening. What's the matter?

Option C: Are you drunk? [Help her get water]

And, Option D: [Do not move] [She might hit you if you breath] [Being pressed against the wall by her isn't so bad]

He shook his head at his last option, once again blaming the alcohol sloshing in his head for his lack of clear thinking. Giving Izumi's face a closer inspection, he finally noticed the glassy look in her eyes, as if she wasn't exactly aware of herself or the moment, even while she waited for an answer. 

Before her shirt could slide down any further, he quickly grabbed her by the shoulders and carefully pushed her away. Izumi surprisingly complied, even as she continued boring a hole through his head.

He pressed option C. "Director, are you drunk?"

Izumi didn't say anything, but continued staring at him, confusion crossing her features. She opened her mouth, presumably to respond, but hurled the contents of her stomach all over him instead, even as she clutched against his suit jacket.

His left eye twitched in disbelief.

Deadass. Really?

[otomebubble]

half-awake

summary: izumi trying to make sense of the world around her, but most of all the viscount’s peculiarity.

The world, as Izumi knew it, had long disappeared. She tried not to grimace at the endless stretch of the corridor before her, the marble floors, the long red carpet that stretched to the other end, the busts and vases to her left, the golden chandeliers overhead, and the glass windows to her right that offered a view of the vast night sky. 

Izumi briefly wondered if she made another wrong turn again, almost considered redirecting her steps, when voices and footsteps caught her attention. Quickly, Izumi backtracked into the previous hall and pressed herself against the wall to listen.

"Are you sure Milord has disappeared again?"

"Yes, I-I am certain. I was preparing Milord's bath when I noticed the windows were open-"

"Could it be that human ?" 

"Please mind your tone, Renee." One of them scolded. "Milord has disappeared, and we need find him lest we-"

Their voices died down, as the servants, in their black and white uniforms, made a left turn, across from where Izumi was hiding among the shadows, and ignorant of the narrowed-eyed look she gave them.

Of course. 

The Young Master of the household has disappeared, again, in this ungodly hour of the night, and possibly sleeping where he wasn't supposed to be .

It was none of her business, however, and lifting her skirts, Izumi resumed her walk, to what she hoped led to her quarters. Halfway through, however, she couldn't exactly stop her mind from wandering back to the Young Master, or the peculiarity of her situation.

She still vividly recalled that day, what apparently became her last day in Japan as she knew it. Izumi was sprinting home through the downpour after her afternoon classes. The roads were muddy, wet, and the sky painted a dim, grey picture when she spotted the bleeding and injured cat lying on the crosswalk. Not wanting to leave it behind, Izumi quickly leapt forward to wrap the unconscious animal in her arms, and paid no mind to the truck heading in their direction.

The next few moments still felt hazy in her mind, as if she reached forward enough, she wouldn't find anything, but a black picture in front of her. For a minute, she thought she left the earthly realm for a heavenly one, but when she opened her eyes, she was sprawled on the wet, paved ground, with the rain still pouring from the sky, and unable to move her body. 

Pain radiated everywhere, with a tight heavy feeling in her chest, and she knew she was crying, even as the rain washed it away. Izumi was conscious for another full second to realize there was another person lying beside her, wet, bleeding, and naked before completely passing out from the pain. 

When Izumi finally woke up, however, she was lying in an unfamiliar four-poster bed, surrounded by silky sheets, and strangers staring at her in suspicion and curiosity. 

That was how she found herself in a strange land called Felis, surrounded by people in old-fashioned dresses and suits, where they addressed each other formally, and held titles like some 17th century period drama, living in massive estates with marble flooring and endless hallways, which was becoming the bane of her existence. 

Part of Izumi was still convinced she was in a coma-induced hallucination, and accepted that this might be a form of purgatory, as one would accept the absurdity of one's dreams. Therefore, she tried not to give too much meaning in the servants' uniforms, their cold stares, the lack of WiFi, cellphones, and old fashioned bathroom and laundry facilities. There had to be an explanation for all of this, and Izumi was, in a way, determined to find out. 

If only this reality made her richer instead, and running a curry empire.

Rounding another corner, she breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the familiar double doors that led to her bedroom. Upon closer inspection, however, Izumi noticed the small crack in-between, as if it wasn't fully closed, and she pushed it open aside. 

The space that greeted her was bigger than her apartment, much to her dismay, with more golden crown mouldings and tall windows that offered more view of the night sky. To Izumi's right was a seating area formed by two couches in front of a fireplace, and to her left sat a boudoir. Further inside was another four poster bed, similar to the one they dumped her in weeks ago, with wooden posters, silky curtains, but minus the lone figure, sleeping soundly among the pillow cushions.

Ah. He was here. Of course. 

The Viscount was young in appearance, with light hair that covered almost all of the right side of his face, wearing his long, flowing night-clothes, with a penchant for sleeping in obscure places.

Watching him sleep reminded Izumi of all the past struggles she had been through the past week. He was the most curious thing about this place, if nothing else. The people around her referred to him as Viscount December, their reclusive and sickly young master, who had recently returned from a trip abroad, and was found bleeding and unconscious on the grounds right beside her.

In a way, Izumi supposed it didn't paint a pretty picture, with him fully naked and her fully clothed despite being in the same roughened condition, and she would've been imprisoned for her "insult against his house" had it not been for his immediate intervention upon his waking, merely to order the servants to leave her be in the meantime, but do not let her escape, as he promptly went back to sleep.

Ever since then, Izumi made it a mission to corner this man, thinking he might be able to explain her situation, and possibly let her go, but he was often missing, and never found where he was supposed to be.

Therefore, it was a surprise to find him here. 

She didn't want to alert the servants of his whereabouts however, and she locked the door behind her before this opportunity slipped away.

Slowly, Izumi approached the side of the bed and observed him. Viscount December was handsome, if nothing else, with a pretty face, and almost feminine features. There was a piece of hair across his mouth, and her hand twitched, itching to remove it. Before she could stop herself, Izumi reached forward to brush it away.

The only sign he indicated that he noticed her presence was a slight crease in the brow, before his one eye opened, and another hand shot forward to grip her wrist tightly. Seconds passed, Izumi held her breath, and held it in until recognition returned to his face, and he settled back into her cushions.

"You… " He breathed slowly. 

They stared at each other for another minute, before Izumi gulped. She could feel her heart pounding, and her mouth suddenly going dry. 

She cleared her throat. "The servants are looking for you..."

He only gave her a blank stare. Izumi tried pulling back at her wrist, but his grip was surprisingly firm despite his small build. 

Um. 

“I won’t tell them you’re here,” Izumi hedged. “So, could you please-”

He suddenly interrupted her. "Lullaby."

She paused. "Eh?"

"Sing me a lullaby…," He blinked slowly. "Please… "

He clearly didn't recognize her, or perhaps he was also hallucinating due to his sleepy-addled brain, because the Viscount had a tendency to avoid her, whenever he can, as if he also sensed her untoward intentions. He would never ask something of this if he was fully alert and awake.

Once more, Izumi tried to free her wrist, but his grip was unrelenting. He probably didn’t trust her to summon the servants, even though she had no desire to do so anyway. 

"A - alright," Izumi acquiesced, tilting her head to the side. "But you have to promise me something, in return."

He stared wordlessly at her. 

"Promise me you won't leave. I need to talk to you about something Milord - I mean, Viscount."

He only gave her an imperceptible nod, and waited for her to continue. Uncomfortable with his stare, Izumi refocused her gaze to the side of his head, where a cowlick was sticking out. 

Then, she launched into the first chorus of a love song. In all honesty, she could've chosen something better, seeing as singing this to a complete stranger seemed rather awkward, but her mind was blank, and it was the first and only thing she remembered.

Izumi was by no means, a terrible singer, but even she felt strange doing this, and she had to glance down a few times to see if it was working. By the time she reached the second chorus, however, he was breathing deeply again, and his grasp slackened to the point Izumi could slowly ease herself away from him, rubbing her sore wrist.

She watched him a moment longer, realized he wasn't planning to wake anytime soon, and settled herself in the Venetian couches, some good distance from him. From her vantage point, Izumi couldn't see him anymore, however, surrounded by pillows on all sides. Perhaps it was the exhaustion of the day, or the halfhearted singing, because she drifted faster to sleep this time around, her last thought being the Viscount's sleeping face.

The following morning, Izumi woke up with a start. It was the cold air that had her promptly awakening, and noticing the lack of the Viscount's presence, she rushed forward to the open windows, which overlooked a rose garden below. It was empty as usual, except the lone figure of the Viscount staring at something in the distance. She wanted to call out to him, leaning forward to see what he was looking at, when his form disappeared right before her eyes, replaced by a white cat, which suddenly ran away.

The very same cat she saved that gloomy day.

Izumi blinked once, twice, and her mouth gaped open in disbelief.

[otomebubble]

side story: little guardians

itaru accompanies izumi to her childhood home, and finds himself under the suspicion of two little, mysterious spirits.

Itaru would like to pretend he was hallucinating, but the two sets of eyes, continuously peering at him as he minded his business in the toilet room of Izumi’s childhood home made it more difficult to concentrate on what he was supposed to do.

He would've happily finished minutes ago, put his phone aside to let his LP refill, relieved himself, washed his hands, and headed for dinner, if not for the two little heads staring at him right now. As it is, he was still fumbling over his phone, even after farming for important items in his game, scrolling through his social media, and pretending he couldn't see them, hoping they would disappear already.

He didn't want to acknowledge them, because acknowledging them meant he would have to acknowledge his delusions, and he refused to do that.

"Yuki-kun… " He heard the pink-haired child mutter. "We should go. I think, I-I think we've seen enough."

The green-haired one aka the one who also likes to make snide comments whenever given the chance, tsked. "He can't see us, Muku."

"I-I don't like watching people in the bathroom though!"

At this point, Itaru might accidentally wet his pants, and he wasn't about to explain why that happened to Izumi. He needed to pee. Now. Sighing inwardly, there was only one route to go in this scenario.

He finally cleared his throat, and looked at them directly. "I need to go."

Staring at them made them glaringly real, which was supposed to be impossible. The two creatures were both crouched on the floor, dressed in traditional yukatas, and appeared similar in ages. The one called Yuki adorned a red, silky cloth with a flowery pattern, and a matching headband. The child would look cuter if not for the displeased and suspicious stare they shot him, as if the child was offended by Itaru's entire existence or something similar. The other one was dressed similarly in a light blue color with cloud patterns on the sleeves, but his eyes looked startled and guilty, almost teary-eyed.

Muku shot up, almost apologetically. "He can see us! Yuki-kun, I'm sorry! It's because I failed to glamour both of us as toilet paper!"

Yuki ignored his partner, and stared back with equal ferocity. "So go."

Itaru began to sweat nervously. "Um."

As if reading his thoughts on his appearance, the one called Yuki narrowed his eyes. "I'm a boy."

Itaru didn't mean that; he actually preferred if no one watched him at all as he relieved himself.

"We'll turn around, so you can do your business." Yuki explained further. 

Once again, Itaru didn't have an answer to that.

An awkward silence started, before Muku pushed him through the door. They didn't exactly push it open, rather melted into wood, and into the other side. 

Itaru could feel his sanity slipping away, trying to think of reasons and explanations of what he just saw, and wondered how to approach the topic of Izumi's house being haunted by two little children.

Itaru was sleep-deprived and he didn't care. After the unusual encounter in the bathroom, Itaru felt slightly paranoid about running into the two children again and forgot to sleep halfway through the night. Thus, he had no choice but to tolerate Izumi's one and half hours of driving through the roads the next morning, for her college roommate's wedding, their sole reason for staying at her childhood home in first place, being that it was closer to the venue than any other expensive, overnight hotel. 

This wasn't the first he had seen those creatures, to be precise, but yesterday's confrontation was definitely the first they approached him of their own volition, in the privacy of the toilet room. Maybe it was the only time they could corner him, without Izumi hovering nearby. 

Since he arrived at her childhood home, he'd been on the receiving end of multiple, and unexplainable occurrences, mostly his phone dying in the middle of the night, despite being fully charged, a missing toothbrush that he swore he placed among his belongings, his Switch refusing to turn on, and several other annoyances that raised his blood pressure. 

He half wondered if Izumi's childhood home, with its traditional tatami flooring, sliding shoji doors, and ofuran, was haunted, and wondered if he could suggest bringing a priest or priestess from a Temple nearby to pray away their presence. He wanted to approach the topic that particular morning, but they were too busy readying themselves for the formal occasion, and he was too tired to remember it.

By the time they arrived at the venue, however, he was dead on his feet, half remembering events through a hazy mind, and wondering briefly why one of the groomsmen looked familiar, and why the cake resembled a gundam for a second. 

In any case, everything went by in a blur in his mind. Part of him was surprised he was still standing, talking, and faking laughter and small talk with the other guests when all he wanted to do was go back to the car and sleep.

Perhaps, it was exhaustion that made his smile faker than usual, his responses taking a second beat too long, and why he didn't notice the worried glances Izumi kept shooting him.

It was only during a lull at the reception afterwards, that she finally confronted him, her brow creased in worry. "You alright? You haven't touched your phone in a while."

He finally gave her a long look, finally noticed the effort she put into her appearance today, the soft pink color and black lines that widened her eyes, the subtle gloss that made her lips fuller, off-shoulder halter dress that showcased her long throat, with the gemstone necklace around completing the look. Her long, brown hair was tied in a knot, resting at the base of her neck, while the rest fell in carefully and articulately done locks. It was subtle and sweet. Itaru knew Izumi wasn't trying to be beautiful, and yet he still found her ten times more attractive than the other guests who kept pestering him.

And maybe more beautiful than the bride herself, but she'd probably cringe if he said that loud, maybe even hit him.

Suddenly, his fingers twitched, wanting to touch her, even just a little.

Before he could stop himself, Itaru reached out to brush a lock of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her right ear, carefully without ruining her makeup. Izumi froze, blinking unexpectedly at the contact.

"Eh?" She muttered dumbly.

"Sorry, it was bothering me."

They stared at each other, quite awkwardly, before Itaru cleared his throat.

Itaru started. "I wanted to ask you-"

Voices interrupted again, and Itaru silently cursed his luck. 

Fuck it. He'll just deal with the problematic children on his own.

Itaru's phone died while in the middle of a combo. He had an inkling at whose fault it was, and he glared at the two creatures peering at him at the corner of the room.

Dammit.

"You're not entirely human are you?" Yuki crossed his arms.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

He debated answering, questioning what exactly the small child meant, but that would, once again, imply he was acknowledging in some manner, that there are little spirits existing inside Izumi's home, who had a habit of slipping through walls and driving him insane.

Also, what would Izumi think if she suddenly walked in here and saw him talking to empty air?

Itaru supposed that ship has sailed long ago, as she has already caught him talking to his prized anime figurine collection during his private hours but-

"Yuki-kun… " The one called Muku tugged at the sleeves of Yuki's yukata. "I don't think he can hear us."

"Yes, he can." Yuki gestured at him. "He's glaring at us right now. Tch."

Tilting his head, Muku gave him a closer look, and Itaru narrowed his eyes. The small one flinched, scurrying behind Yuki again, as if Yuki could protect him from his foul mood.

"I don't like you." Yuki emphasized.

Same.

Itaru gave the child another once-over, and wondered how something like this lived in this house during Izumi's absence. Perhaps, it was time to suggest an exorcist after all.

As if sensing his thoughts, Yuki snorted. "Nice try, but you can't kick us out of here."

Time to bite the bullet. "What's your problem?"

No, that didn't sound petty at all.

Stepping forward, Yuki looked down at him over the bridge of his nose. "I know you're not exactly human, and I want to know what your relationship is with Izumi."

That was a loaded question, and Itaru didn't think there were enough words, or time, to be precise, to describe his connection to Izumi, much less define the relationship.

So, Itaru responded back with a question. "Why?"

Itaru watched Yuki's expression race, as if trying to find the perfect answer on how to gauge the situation. "Because you're a dangerous yokai."

What?

This time, Muku peeked from behind Yuki, casting him a speculative look, but there was a frown on his face now, at odds with his earlier look. Now, it was as if Muku was also trying to unravel Itaru's mystery as well, and how he came into being.

Yuki's face suddenly fell into an exasperated expression, as if explaining everything suddenly seemed too much, and he didn't want to bother either. "Whatever, shitty elite. If you hurt her, I will end you here, co-worker or not."

At that, Itaru couldn't stop his mind from speculating. A long time ago, from old folktales he'd read and heard, there were guardian-like creatures called zashiki-warashi that resided in some homes. Acting as the sole protectors, they were childlike in appearances despite their powers. Some say seeing them actually meant good luck and blessings upon those who saw them. Blinking, Itaru wondered if Yuki and Muku were the same, if not more.

"Are you-"

The sliding door opened, and Izumi peeked inside, eyes sparkling in excitement. "Itaru! I found it!"

He blinked at her dumbly, quickly noticing the children have vanished into thin air again, before he faced her. "... What?"

"My old robot collection-" Izumi stopped, after realizing he wasn't paying attention, his eyes drifting back to the corner where Yuki and Muku stood moments ago. "What's wrong? Why do you keep looking over there?"

"Do you have dead cousins?" He asked her, very seriously.

"Cousins?"

Itaru shook his head. "Nevermind. Where'd you found them?"

They planned to leave this morning, with Izumi doing some last minute cleaning, to make sure everything was in place. Itaru was passing by the room he'd been using for the last couple days, when he spotted her kneeling inside.

Itaru did a double-take when he noticed her arranging stacks of shoujo manga, candies, headbands, and yukatas in one far corner of the room, the last place he conversed with the two children.

"What are those?"

Izumi hesitated before answering. "... Stuff."

He watched her carefully place two stuffed animal bears, taking care not to disturb the arrangement she made. Then she glanced over her shoulder and frowned, noticing him still standing there.

Izumi huffed. "What?"

"What are you doing?" He couldn't hide the disbelief in his tone.

"Nothing." She sounded defensive, a pout crossing her features.

Before he could ask more questions, Izumi pushed him outside the room, much more forceful than he expected, and promised to buy him more app cards if he waited out in the hall.

He had a nagging feeling Izumi wouldn't explain, even if he pushed, but it did answer his questions. Izumi knew about their existence, and she didn't want to elaborate.

The keychain resembled a tessen, like the old weapons he read from history books and video games set in Ancient Japan. He was palming it in his hand again, remembering the unusual way he came about this tiny thing. The fact that it could shrink and grow in size, and maybe let him see beyond the physical realm.

Briefly, Itaru wondered if it was the sole reason why he encountered the two, and why the child, Yuki, seemed so suspicious of him, and the unusual words Yuki said. Briefly wondered if this was also the reason for the strange happenings lately, the dreams, voices, and her.

Itaru was eyeing the keychain so intently, he didn't notice Izumi leaning closer, peering at the palm of his hand. 

"What's that?"

He jumped, and then schooled his expression carefully. "Stuff."

Izumi leaned closer. "Looks neat! Where'd you get it?"

He poked her forehead, pushing her back into her seat. "You're unusually curious today."

She huffed. "You've been staring at it for five minutes, and I've been sitting here waiting for you to start the car. Unless… you want me to drive again today?"

Izumi ended her inquiry with an innocent blink, tilting her head to the side for effect.

Don't play cute with me.

He shot her a fake smile. "No, thanks."

[otomebubble]

something unforgettable

itaru accidentally discovering something of the director's, while answering a phone call from the office.

Itaru's brows creased, a flicker of annoyance passing over his features, when his phone started vibrating incessantly for the first time that morning, despite turning off all notifications. He was, in that particular moment, enjoying his day-off, free from work obligations and acting gigs for once, and grinding to his heart's content on a much awaited RPG that was released last month.

His eyes momentarily peeked down at his phone, and winced after recognizing the office number and name. He, of all people, had no intention to answer any questions, inquiries, or sort aside any problems regarding office work and clients.

For a second, he wavered, watching the spiky haired character with a giant sword wander aimlessly in circles on the screen as he let the call go unanswered once. It stopped, before vibrating again. Sighing, Itaru pushed himself to his feet, pressed the 'answer' button, and adapted his adult, office persona. 

"Good morning Masahiro-san."

Reluctantly, he dragged himself outside, with the mid-morning sunlight making him realize it was close to noon, and he had yet to show himself for breakfast.

Itaru absentmindedly scratched his stomach. He still had no intention of showing himself, though, not when he was still preoccupied with said game, and he crossed the courtyard to head for the second floor balcony instead to finish this call as soon as possible.

Masahiro-san simply wanted his second opinion on such and such documents, double-checking if he had done everything correctly before the presentation on Monday. He continuously 'hmmed' in agreement while Masahiro-san rattled off numbers and figures, as if Itaru didn't know this beforehand. Leaning against the wall, his eyes started glazing in thought, mind slowly drifting back to the RPG he paused for this unwanted conversation.

Something yellow color fluttered in the breeze, snagging his attention for a second, and he looked to the side, over to a small standing rack with several pieces of undergarments hanging.

The bras were all in various colorful shades of yellow, pink, orange and blue, from lacy, to cotton, and strapless. Each and every single one was paired with a matching bottom half, perfectly coordinated and paired together on every clipper and hanger.

However, there were two particular pieces that stopped all functioning thoughts in his brain. The panties appeared to cover less, and instead resembled strings coming together to form some cover in the middle.

The pink one was entirely made of a flowery lace pattern, and the yellow one beside it resembled fishnets. Itaru noticed it left a lot to the imagination too, concerning intimate body parts. They were hanging precariously to the side, as if its owner was trying their very best to hide their existence from the others.

It took a while for Itaru's brain to realize he was staring at their director's underwear collection, hanging to dry by the second floor balcony. Blushing, he pushed himself off the wall, and looked away.

"Chigasaki?"

"Y-yes," He cleared his throat. "Yes. I'll contact them tomorrow."

He bullshitted his answer, because he hadn't heard anything the last minute Masahiro was talking over the phone.

Then, feeling as if he walked in on something private, Itaru turned around and left the balcony. For a good measure, he locked the doors from inside. Those were two triangles Misumi didn't need. 

Try as he might, however, he couldn't get the images out of his mind.

He was frowning in thought again that night, while absentmindedly playing his favorite idol rhythm game. Izumi was in the midst of setting their meals, walking to and fro from the kitchen counter to the dinner table, where the others sat and discussed loudly about their day around him.

When the song finally ended, his eyes flickered to her for a moment and stared at her with interest. Something about the director owning and wearing racy underwear raised his suspicions, and questions churned over and over in his mind. Before he could stop himself, his eyes drifted curiously downward, to the shape of her butt, before she suddenly turned around and he locked gazes with her. 

"Itaru-san, do you want pink curry or yellow curry with your rice?"

He blinked stupidly.

Don't be awkward. Don't be awkward. Don't be awkward.

Itaru suddenly felt a trickling sensation on the back of his neck, and he was certain Masumi was responsible for it. He tried for a nonchalant expression because she was beginning to look worried. But his words still failed him.

"I'll have lacy- No, yellow, no- that," He pointed helplessly at the second pot.

"Okaay…?," Izumi tilted her head curiously.

He tried passing his princely smile, the one that always worked on the company ladies, and distracted them to the point of doing something stupid. Izumi's face reddened for a moment, then she gave an exasperated look before turning away.

The trickling sensation intensified, Masumi's glare growing by the second, and for a moment, Itaru was half-worried Masumi sensed all his thoughts about the director's underwear collection. He needed to shove them aside, before said boy threatened to cut his lifespan in half again. But, at least he discovered something unforgettable about their director that the boy hadn't learned about yet.

[otomebubble]

side story: fleeting

sometimes, the feelings of someone else, an old forgotten memory from a long ago past, would flit through him and his mind, and itaru wonders if the yearning he feels for her was his, or someone else's.

Itaru was in the middle of receiving a love confession again; at the very least, maybe getting invited out to dinner tonight. He knew, because the signs were all there. After the woman handed him the Valentine's chocolates, she stayed behind and asked him to wait a moment, and continued stretching the silence longer than what was necessary. She was looking everywhere but him now, and twirling her hands nervously.

He didn't want to waste any more precious time for his five-minute break, one that could be used for gaming, and he was mulling which fictional character he could describe he happened to be currently in love with to discourage her further, when Izumi entered his field of vision. 

She was carrying a box, ladened with files most likely, but work normally done by their first years and eager interns. However, since Izumi also happened to be the most convenient excuse right now, he beelined towards her, briefly thanking the woman for the chocolates.

His face immediately dropped into a scowl, his bad mood evident from having his precious break interrupted.

Izumi immediately recognized the look, her brow creasing into worry. "Hey. You."

Itaru grunted. "Why are you doing grunge work?"

She shrugged. "Tsuzuru needs my help. Feel kinda bad shoving no work on him this morning, so the others are kinda taking advantage of it. He's become my department's errand boy for the day. Coffee this and copy that."

"You're supposed to take advantage of your intern."

"You're so mean," Izumi clicked her tongue disappointedly. "Also, stop trying to dump work on him. He's mine. Get your own."

"It’s for his own good. I’m building up his stats, so he can level up faster in this cruel workplace,” Itaru pointed out matter-of-factly.

“I don’t even know what to say to that.”

The elevator doors finally opened, as Itaru playfully smirked at her, and she sighed in return. When they stepped inside, Izumi elbowed for the 32nd floor, while Itaru discreetly hid the fifth box of chocolates he received this morning under his arm. It didn’t work. As the elevator made its ascent, Izumi finally noticed the weird, colorful thing Itaru was trying to ignore in his left hand.

"What's that?," she gestured at it. 

"... Chocolates."

Itaru ended up explaining again, for some reason, about the receptionist on the fourth floor reaching out to him to hand him this, and was, perhaps, about to be invited out to dinner when he spotted her by the elevator, and he decided to help or something. He couldn't quite hide the pout in his voice about his coffee / gaming break being interrupted. 

Suddenly, her eyes twinkled with laughter, possibly remembering the ridiculous amount of gifts, handed to him, very comically, on this day every year. Itaru would've pushed for another day off, but since he already spent the latest one three days ago, he had no choice but to come today, on Valentine’s Day, of all days.

Also, he felt antsy leaving Izumi behind - the kind of anxiety that was getting harder to ignore now since the incident, and because past memories were returning - but he would rather die than admit that he tries to schedule their day-offs side-by-side, closely.

"Poor you," Izumi snorted. "It must be so difficult being popular."

Itaru only gave her a scowl, and suddenly imagined her confessing to someone. For some reason, all he could picture was a plate of curry, which looked kind of wrong, but also made sense in his head. He couldn't even forget her drunken confession last week, her plan, basically, to marry the restaurant owner of the curry place they visited during the company's latest get-together. He had to stop her silly train of thought because while the owner was affable enough, they were also happily married to someone else. Regardless, Izumi insisted he help her shop for a ring until she finally passed out from the alcohol in her head.

He quite disliked the idea of Izumi seeing someone else, for various reasons, none of which he was ready to scrutinize right now, and he went to bed quite restless that night. 

“Here,” Izumi plucked a folder from the pile she was carrying and passed it to him. “It’s a projection of the financial budget we’ll need for the next collaborative project, one you’re supposed to be working on right now.”

The scolding tone made him feel somewhat guilty, and he tucked the chocolates under his arm again to glance briefly at the files she handed him. More work, and he could feel his stamina draining already from looking at it. By the time Itaru finished analyzing his probable workload for the rest of the day, with additional calculation on how he could fit in five-minute gaming breaks, they arrived at their floor. 

The elevator doors parted, and another unfamiliar woman greeted them on the other side, whose face immediately brightened upon seeing Itaru’s presence. “Chigasaki-kun.”

Like reflex, Itaru immediately slipped into his princely persona, while Izumi looked on worriedly. 

“Good morning,” he added that soft, lazy smile effect. Izumi had to look away to clear the bug in her throat. Stepping out of the elevator seemed like he would accidentally set off an unexpected event, but he had no choice. It seemed rude to just pretend they arrived at the wrong floor. 

“Could I have a moment with you for a second?,” the woman’s eyes pleaded, almost desperately.

He struggled to say a response, but then he suddenly felt Izumi pat him softly in the back in reassurance, before she slithered away down the corridor. Itaru watched her for a moment, his mind briefly wondering if she prepared something for him as well, seeing as she happened to be the only one who refused to take more of his precious break, before turning to face the woman again and promising to hear her out. For some reason, he felt quite disappointed at the thought of Izumi forgetting about him, on this day of all days, before banishing the ridiculous thoughts away. His mysterious, past memories were playing tricks again.

They were eating at the cafe, aptly named Secret Garden, the usual spot for Itaru to unashamedly play games on his phone (and sometimes switch, conveniently tucked away in his briefcase) without his cover being completely ruined and simultaneously eat lunch, while Izumi accompanies him and does the same, minus the gaming, but occasionally bringing last minute work. 

Much like its name, the place was quite hidden from the main street, but the inside was open enough, with high ceiling windows that allowed for natural light and multiple flora decorating the warm, cozy place. As usual, they were seated at the farthest corner of the loft upstairs, with enough room for privacy, but it also gave Izumi and Itaru some leeway in who was potentially entering and exiting the place. Likewise, it was far enough from the office to escape the notice of their colleagues, but also secluded enough that Itaru could stop playing the persona, if only for half an hour. 

He was tapping his foot, debating if he should waste his hard-earned jewels to roll for his favorite character on his favorite mobile game, B3!, or simply wait until the work day finished to buy more gaming app cards, when Izumi slumped in the seat across from him. Then, she let out a frustrated groan.

Itaru muttered something incoherent, possibly agreeing, and tugged on her wrist before she could say anything else. “Press this.” 

“What- What-”

Before Izumi could think, her finger was suddenly pressed against Itaru's smartphone, until it was quickly snatched away again, and he looked at it with great concentration. A bright light flashed momentarily from the device, and Itaru grinned in excitement and proceeded to kiss his phone. Leaning back, Izumi crossed her arms and blinked.

"I could always count on you to bring me Sachan's SRs," Itaru nodded. "It's probably 'cause you're twins."

Izumi gave him another one of her unsure looks, the kind her face makes whenever he compares her to a character in one of his mobile games. Truthfully, Izumi could never see the semblance, aside from the long brown hair, but Itaru insisted on more than that, including the character's obsession for a certain food and their penchant for the color blue. However, he also added that Sachan was cuter on a daily basis with her greetings, and Izumi didn't know how to absorb that information.

Pursing her lips, Izumi looked down at the table and picked at her sandwich mournfully. "I think I have to go back to the office. A client emergency again."

Itaru grunted again, before the weight of her words sunk. “Wait, you’re going back?”

Izumi continued shoving her arms in her peacoat. “Yeah. Gotta handle something-”

Izumi paused once she noticed Itaru was doing the same thing, clicking off his phone, pushing his half-eaten lunch meal aside, and readying himself to leave. 

“What are you doing?”

“You’re leaving, I’m coming back with you,” he stated obviously, avoiding the blatant reason in his heart. 

Was it the past connection that made him feel this? Or was it because of the trouble that happened about three weeks ago? Again, the fleeting worry refused to leave his mind, so he just left it at that. 

“Well, but what about your game?”

Itaru shrugged. “I can just go to the bathroom and hide there for awhile.”

“But-”

“Come on. Just buy me more app play cards when we get home.”

Now, Izumi grunted in response as Itaru steered her out the door.

Izumi easily handled the ‘emergency’, reassuring the client’s fears for half an hour over the phone, while Itaru excused himself to some obscure part of the building where he could game in peace. She didn’t know if he returned to his office by the time the lunch break finished, but the urge to grab a bite was finally calling her, after denying her stomach of food for so long, and she needed to take a break.

By the time she made it to the break room, however, the ladies from her floor were gossiping about Itaru again, and she couldn't help but overhear some of their comments as she busily grabbed her curry leftovers from the employee fridge.

They continued painting Itaru as the son or grandson of a wealthy, retired CEO; his backstory included something of having a frail, sickly body growing up who overcame his debilitating disease, and now lives the life of an elite businessman who enjoys drinking red wine during dinner with his cat, reading Forbes’ in his downtime with earl grey tea, visits his foreign cousins from abroad, and spends his days lamenting over his ex-fiance who left him for an awful man. They were nice conjectures, but all Izumi could see in her mind was Itaru’s cute top-knot, yellow blazer, loose pants, and angrily shouting curse words at his PC for three hours, and she couldn’t utter a single honest word agreeing with their comments about Itaru’s fictional persona. 

It was ironic, in a sense. Sometimes, when he didn’t open his mouth, he looked almost unbelievably handsome and unrealistic. Almost. But then he says, “Totes. GJ.” and other words she needs to look up in some urban dictionary, and Izumi feels relieved again; she liked Itaru’s off-mode better than his fabricated appearance. By the time her shift ended, she was watching him again, the kind that always made her stop and stare at his profile from a distance. 

It was hard to put a name to her own feelings, because she was always protective of him; there was a comforting, familiar feeling being in his presence, the way he treats her, their silly banter, and those fleeting emotions she could never put into more words. While she did admit to having a minor crush on him during their University days, she couldn’t, or perhaps, wouldn’t exactly come to say that she’s romantically interested in him, rather, it was almost… like… she couldn’t lose him anymore. Not again.

What?

Izumi blinked, shook her head, and made her way to him, still preoccupied by the game on his phone, and waiting by the lobby doors. Unconsciously, she crossed her arms behind her back to hide the goods she’d been saving for him throughout the day.

He could feel her presence from a mile away, the odd sensation reminding Itaru again of his past, hidden powers, and everything else in between that he couldn’t explain. In technical terms, it was almost as if Izumi carried a GPS chip inside her body, and only Itaru could notice it blinking, indicating her location. He wondered if his past self also recognized the onmyouji lady like this, the connection tugging like a string, and he looked up from his smartphone to see Izumi, scurrying towards him, hands behind her back.

"Good work today, Izumi," he drawled automatically, recognizing another stupid smile on her face.

"Good work today, too, Itaru," she responded happily, as if today's exhaustion never bothered her in the first place. "Here. This is for you-"

He blinked stupidly at the colorful package she shoved in his hands, similar to the ones he received earlier, before turning it over to see three miniature chocolates in the shape of gaming controllers, arranged neatly in the middle of the box. 

"I know how much you hated being interrupted during your so-called breaks and lunch, and this was the only time I could give it to you," Izumi added meaningfully. "Happy Valentine's day."

No matter the place or time.

Something tugs again at Itaru's heart, familiar but also foreign. Sometimes, the feelings of someone else, an old forgotten memory from a long ago past, would flit through him and his mind, and Itaru wonders if the yearning he feels for her was his, or someone else's.

I will always protect you. 

He could feel himself blushing, and he shook his head. Going soft, how embarrassing. He had to look away, to gather his bearings, before ruffling her hair.

"Yeah, uh, thanks," he cleared his throat. 

She moved closer. "You're welcome… Now, stop bothering Tsuzuru okay?"

"Are you bribing me with this?"

Izumi tried to playfully elbow him in the stomach, but he dodged in time, and suddenly asked if she could accompany him to the arcade this afternoon, unbeknownst of the grin forming on his face. Itaru refused to say, out loud, that he wanted to spend more time with her before they go home, and he watched Izumi’s expression briefly change into wonder and confusion before agreeing, just as he knew she would.

[otomebubble]

As a short disclaimer, every single a3! fanfic of mine was written during peak a3! brain rot of 2020 (aka when covid was also peak). Since 2021, I have not kept up with the main story, because I have lived 10,000 lives since then. I have no idea what's happening within the fandom anymore either.

[otomebubble]

memory loss

everyone being afraid of masumi's wrath, and sakyo not giving a damn.

There’s a general unspoken rule at Mankai Company: “do not let Masumi learn of the nice things you normally do for the director”. The only one foolish enough to go against said unspoken rule might be Kazunari, who seems completely unaffected by Masumi’s intense affections, and perhaps Omi, who might be unaware of the unspoken rule. It was hard to gauge because Omi had a habit of saying whatever nice things out of his mouth, without filter, whatsoever. That usually involved semi-flirtatious comments under his breath during cooking hours, as witnessed by the children, and mostly Taichi, around the director. Whether Omi’s aware of the comments remains a topic of debate among the younger ones.

It was hard to ignore said unspoken rule, however, when the director herself randomly inserted the subject during conversations in the vicinity of Masumi, who is never far away from her.

“Speaking of-,” Izumi turned around from her position on the couch, blinking at Itaru, seated across from her, his fingers flying fast over his smartphone. “Thanks for taking me out on a drive the other night! I-”

There was a sudden drop of room temperature as Masumi, sitting right next to the director, suddenly directed a dangerous look towards Itaru. Izumi continued elaborating about the fact that Itaru took her out to dinner the other night, at a curry place near his office, and consequently spent the rest of the evening merely driving around the city.

Itaru could feel himself sweating, but pointedly ignored Masumi’s glare. “No, I don’t know what you’re talking about director.”

Izumi gave him a dumbfounded look. “What? But you clearly-”

Itaru suddenly stood up, announcing that a raid was about to start in three minutes, and he suddenly needed to go, missing the disappointed expression on Izumi's face. Meanwhile, Masumi was muttering threats of bodily harm under his breath, and Itaru figured he should lock the door tonight, just in case.

“Oh! That’s right!,” Izumi squirmed excitedly in her seat, as if she finally remembered something important. “Tsumugi, thank you for the flowers today! They were really cu-”

Masumi suddenly blinked his eyes open from his nap, and gave Tsumugi a hard stare across the dining table. Tsumugi could feel himself shrinking a little.

“I wasn’t in the garden today at all, director,” Tsumugi blurted out, his eyes darting nervously away, at a point in the distance.

Izumi gave him a confused look. “But-”

A figure suddenly stepped into the open kitchen and dining area, sweat dripping down his arms and shirt. It was Tasuku, who was back from his evening jog.

“Tasuku,” Tsumugi stood, his chair scraping loudly on the floor. “I need to talk to you about something important.”

Before Tasuku could respond, Tsumugi quickly steered him away from the kitchen, ignoring Tasuku’s protests about wanting to drink water, his reason for stepping in there in the first place. Likewise, Tsumugi completely missed the pout forming on Izumi’s lips as soon as he left.

There were more instances of this, the boys suddenly pleading memory loss whenever Izumi recalled something thoughtful they’d done for her. For the most part, Izumi found it odd; but they were excellent actors enough that suspicion could be averted once in awhile, and Masumi could be convinced. However, they still made sure their bedroom doors were locked that night.

Sakyo was aware of all of this, and he didn't give a damn what the boy thought.

Izumi was currently fitting the red scarf he gave her around her throat, carefully making sure it was secured loosely but comfortably. He was aware that he'd been watching her like an idiot for the last two minutes now, as she properly fitted her winter gear before heading out into the cold January weather, but he couldn't help himself.

Izumi grabbed her pink purse from the floor, sliding it on one shoulder, and grabbing her mittens. She was slipping them on when she turned around, and gave him a smile.

"Thanks for the scarf, Sakyo-san."

"You're welcome."

Masumi, standing right next to him, and also watching Izumi leave for her errands for the day, suddenly froze at the implication of those words. Then Masumi gave him a hard glare. Sakyo resisted the urge to smirk.

"I'll see you later, you two."

Izumi stepped out, completely ignorant of the brewing tension between the two men she left behind at the door.

[otomebubble]

mixed laundry

izumi finds out that the laundry situation at mankai company was... somewhat of a mess.

The laundry situation at Mankai dormitory could be summed up in one word: a mess. Izumi normally leaves that part of the chores to the boys, and for the most part, they seemed absolutely fine with it, until she heard Banri pounding against Tsuzuru and Masumi's room demanding to return his missing underwear.

She quickly hurried to his side. "What's wrong?"

Banri gave her an annoyed look. "Your number one fan has stolen all my underwear."

Izumi gave him a confused look, and Banri went back to pounding, explaining that he has none left and Masumi should really give them back. Now. He was about to kick the door, when it opened and Masumi gave him the finger.

"YAAHH," Banri growled, raising his fist.

Izumi stepped in between. "Wait! Masumi, can I see inside your room please?"

Masumi finally noticed her, and blushed. He suddenly opened the door wide, gesturing for her to come in and simultaneously blocking Banri's entry at the same time.

Izumi took a step towards his side of the room, but paused, asking for permission again to open his drawers.

"You can take anything from there, my shirts, my underwear-"

Izumi promptly ignored that and peeked inside. His first drawer was definitely overflowing with multiple pieces of men's expensive undergarments, with brand names on them she couldn't even recognize. To be fair, they all kinda looked the same. 

"Fucker," Banri suddenly pulled a Calvin Klein briefs beside her, and angrily waved it at Masumi. "This is mine!"

"You're not allowed to touch my stuff," Masumi growled and moved closer.

"Okay, okay!," Izumi stepped in. "Masumi, could you let Banri look through your stuff for a moment? He says he doesn't have anymore underwear, and he thinks you've taken some of his. Just let him look and double-check, please? For me?"

Masumi hesitated for a moment, but relented, crossing his arms. Banri didn't even wait and started digging through the entire drawer. By the time he was finished, his arms were full, but Banri still felt like he was missing something.

"Masumi have you seen my blue boxers-," Tsuzuru appeared by the doorway, noticing Izumi and Banri's presence. "Oh director. Banri."

Izumi turned around and smiled. "Tsuzuru-kun, what's up?"

"It's um-," Tsuzuru scratched his cheek awkwardly.

"Has anyone seen a briefs with blue stripes? My sis kinda gave them to me, and I totally can't lose them because they were super expensive."

Itaru's head appeared, stopping next to Tsuzuru by the door. When he noticed Tsuzuru's awkward silence, he peeked inside the bedroom. Izumi was standing there, giving him a curious look, along with Banri carrying a handful of underwear protectively in his arms. As Izumi continued processing what he just said out loud, Itaru suddenly felt his face growing stone-cold.

"Ah, Tsuzuru! You wouldn't happen to know if you accidentally took another white and blue boxers while you were doing laundry earlier in the week?"

Tsumugi appeared next, his face a bit embarrassed and hesitant. When he noticed Tsuzuru's cast down eyes, and Itaru staring purposely at a point in the distance, he also peeked inside in the bedroom, taking note of the director's presence. She was now giving him a concerned look, and Tsumugi's ears suddenly reddened. 

"Are you guys-," Izumi approached this carefully. "Are you all missing your underwear?"

It was brought to attention to Sakyo that, while everybody had fixed laundry schedules, others did not take care of their laundry properly afterwards. It was also explained to Izumi, in detail, that this had been going on for awhile. For the most part, everyone got their underwear back, but they did realize, maybe once or twice, they accidentally wore each others' at one point or another, specifically those with similar sizes (Tsuzuru, Itaru, Tsumugi, and Sakyo / Omi and Tasuku), and similar tastes in expensive brands (Masumi and Banri). 

Why they let this go on for so long, Izumi had no idea, but Sakyo finally called an intervention that afternoon, to have everyone write their names on their belongings after sorting everyone's missing boxers and briefs. 

That was how Izumi found all of them in the main living area, a variety of markers on the floor, and a bunch of… guys painstakingly writing their names on their… underwear. Sakyo and Sakoda, were walking around, like school teachers, making sure that everyone was doing what they needed to do.

Izumi took all of this sight in, on her way out the door to meet Kichou and Nami for drinks that night. In fairness, she kind of understood their dilemma, taking note of the similarities of everyone's underwear, which all looked the same in her eyes. Masumi finally noticed her presence, announcing it to everyone. Everyone paused what they were doing. 

"Director, would you like to join us-," Masumi interjected, earning a few glares from the others. 

"No, no, no, that's fine," Izumi waved her hands. "I'm going out for drinks tonight. Have a… good evening everybody."

Izumi hurried away, wondering why she puts up with all of them, and feeling the need to down more than a few drinks this coming evening.

[otomebubble]

character appearance

for the first time, izumi's drunkenness leave the boys flustered.... and scared.

The world was spinning, and it didn't make sense at the moment, but Izumi had a mighty need to get this one word out. 

"Fuck you."

She didn't even notice the still sober members of winter troupe, stopping their activities, to openly gape at her. All she could really focus on at the moment was getting her point across.

"Fuck you. A curry stage-play would make sense."

"It's ridiculous," Tasuku retorted back heatedly.

"You two-"

Izumi, completely throwing all faculties out the window, actually glared at Tsumugi Tsukioka, resident angel leader of Mankai Company.

"Shut the hell up."

"You are insane," Tasuku actually growled in return. 

Cheeks flushed, Izumi slapped her hands on the table. "And you're being mean! If Chikage-san were here, he'd agree!"

"And I'm telling you that won't work-"

"Because you don't understand the finer points of-"

The rest of the winter troupe members watched the exchange with some wariness and apprehension, because Izumi was completely shouting now, disregarding her surroundings. At the moment, both she and Tasuku were trying to talk over each other, and didn't notice Azuma discreetly calling for back-up already, since both of their drivers were completely intoxicated and arguing for the first time in public.

Sakyo's brain couldn't even process the situation that lay before him when he arrived. Azuma actually looked somewhere on the verge of concern and laughing, because Izumi was now sitting on the table, trying to look bigger and shouting at Tasuku, who was slowly, looking smaller by the minute. She acted unlike herself at the moment, growling and cursing heavily about the need for mankai to put on curry-themed stage play.

Tsumugi has completely given up pacifying the director, sitting next to Hisoka, who could only blink in astonishment. Homare seemed emotionally distressed for some reason, and Guy appeared completely fascinated by the change in Izumi's personality. 

"I fucking dare you to say that to my face again," Izumi, completely out of her mind, leaned forward threateningly.

Tasuku gritted his teeth. "I-"

"That's enough," Sakyo growled.

Izumi turned from her position on the table and gave him a once-over. "Oh, it's shithead Sakyo."

what the hell. since when did she use Azami's nickname- no, insult for him?

"I swear to god if I hear you complain about about tightening the budget-," Izumi mimicked in a mocking voice. "-I'm going to make every single one of you perform half naked on stage."

For some reason, that had the momentary effect of sobering everyone up, minus the madwoman who suggested it herself.

"You give Yuki such a hard time-," Izumi pointed accusingly at Sakyo. 

Sakyo moved forward, lowering the hand who was in the process of giving him the middle finger already, and growled. "That's enough! Sakoda, get me some water. Now!"

"Let go-," Izumi glared, tugging at her wrist. Suddenly, she stopped struggling and paused her tirade.

Sakyo had a bad feeling. Before he could take a step back, however, Izumi promptly opened her mouth and vomited the contents of her stomach on him.

[otomebubble]

more repercussions

izumi tries reasoning to chikage about the events of the bar fight.

Chikage was finishing last minute paperwork for his legal daytime job, when he heard familiar frantic footsteps heading towards his direction. He was sitting in the living room, peacefully quiet for once, probably because half of its residents were still nursing hangovers in the late afternoon, and the other younger half had other business elsewhere on a Saturday weekend. 

"We need to talk."

Chikage peered up from his laptop to see Izumi Tachibana, their general director, giving him a look that said she was about to ask something painful, but it had to be done. He had an inkling of what she wanted to say, and he tried not to smirk. 

"Yes?"

Izumi seated herself right next to him, head swiveling around to make sure there were no eavesdroppers, and pushed on.

"I heard from Hisoka what happened," she whispered. "Please tell me you didn't incapacitate half the people in the bar last night."

He closed his laptop, and gave her a look. "No one noticed except that sleepyhead."

tattletale. he needed to do something about that.

"Chikage-san!," she actually hissed. "I don't want the police coming in here to investigate! The news said half the people there were injured in weird places. Please think twice before you do...something like that again."

"I seem to recall you not blinking an eye when we traveled to Zahra and I-."

"Those were… extenuating circumstances," she waved a hand pathetically.

"And last night wasn't?"

"I- just-," Izumi gave up. "Okay. Fine. Next time that happens, please call Sakyo for help."

Izumi looked at him, eyes actually pleading, and he wanted to mess with her some more.

Chikage gave a long-suffering sigh. “Banri was almost knocked out, we nearly lost Homare-san in the crowd, someone poured alcohol at Tasuku's back, and I myself received a shower of broken glass-"

"Okay, I get it!"

He was painting a picture, worse than what actually happened, and her face was growing paler by the second, imagining every outcome more terrible than before. To be fair, he was probably the one responsible for half the injuries at the bar last night, but his body reacted on its own, needing to protect everyone.

"If I hadn't acted-"

Izumi rubbed her forehead, perhaps indicating that she was tired and needed to go back to bed, immediately, now. He paused when she gestured for him to stop.

He could go on, talking about the entire night, and the ways it could've ended, with half of them in jail right now, if only to keep her here and tease her some more, but he stopped.

"I promised to protect my family, right?," Chikage reminded her, unaware of his features softening for a moment. "No one will find out. I'll make sure of it."

Izumi gave him a long look, before finally nodding in understanding. Sighing, she stood up and walked away, completely unaware of his lingering stare, a little fond, but mostly amused. There was never a boring day living here.

[otomebubble]

bar fight aftermath

tsumugi's hazy recollection of a rough boys' night out, and izumi trying to help with his hangover the next morning.

It was the voices that broke through Tsumugi's drunken foggy mind. He distinctly recalled arguing to Tasuku before about the director's idea for a curry stage-play, something that was still an intense topic of conversation among the three of them since a week ago, when he recognized one of the voices growling behind him, and looked.

The sight had the immediate effect of sobering him up for a moment. Banri was facing one burly man, a few inches taller than him, glaring ferociously. A couple of others sitting on the bar stools nearby, equally larger than Banri too, started rising and moving forward. They began taunting him. On the other hand, the bar staff standing behind Banri, stepped forward and tried to diffuse the situation.

He started tapping Tasuku on the shoulder, who was, for some reason, now watching Citron and Chikage's antics as they recorded and encouraged Itaru's drunken gibberish.

"Banri's in trouble right now."

Azuma heard the urgency in his voice, and looked behind as well. "Oh dear…"

This time, Tasuku noticed and cursed. The bar staff, a woman with short black hair, was gone, perhaps looking for help, but now the burly man was aiming for Banri's head. At least Banri had the decency to duck before it landed and aimed for the man's solar plexus in return. Tasuku immediately stood up, followed by Guy who probably woke up from his nap from all the noise.

"BAR FIGHT!," some idiot shouted before jumping into the fray.

The words had the domino effect everyone was waiting for, because it was a hothouse of drunken idiots itching to unleash their stupidity. Everyone started throwing punches for no reason, glass bottles broke, and several tables turned over. In short, it was a disaster.

The sequence of events in Tsumugi's mind became hazy after that, however. People were shouting, fighting, and now flashing lights and sirens were suddenly blaring in the distance. His group was trying to prepare for an escape, and he believed he heard a conversation that went something like this:

"Citron. Grab the deadweight. I'm going to make an opening. GUY HAUL BANRI AWAY AS I SOON AS I SAY GO!"

That was Chikage, giving orders and shouting over the cacophony to be heard.

"You're going to cover our backs and-"

"Don't tell me what to do you good-for-nothing spy."

spy? what? 

"Then do something about your roommate before he gets dragged in as well."

Tsumugi groggily recalled Homare, very drunk and emotional, declaring something about fights being romantic, and was about to jump in, but Hisoka pulled him away before anything could happen.

That was the gist of what he remembered. Somehow, they were able to escape, unharmed, a little disheveled from running, and Itaru sleeping like a baby in Citron's arms throughout the entire incident. They dumped him on the floor once they arrived back at the dormitory though. He believed Tasuku later moved Itaru to his bedroom, but he wasn't sure.

It was only later that he learned, mostly from Chikage, that half of the bar's patrons were taken into custody, the place suffered some serious interior damage, and some people were left with unfortunate injuries. All of this was explained to Sakyo, who was, unsurprisingly, disappointed and livid at them, and the director, who became anxious last night at the sight of Guy carrying a somewhat injured Banri on his shoulder, and Itaru passed out in Citron's arms. He didn't think they looked that bad, but maybe because they don't normally arrive in that fashion, it left a bit of alarm and confusion on her face.

This morning, he was scrounging around the kitchen, looking for a remedy for his hangover. He didn't think he was that intoxicated last night, seeing as he still remembered events up to a certain point, but the pounding in his head said otherwise.

Failing to find pain medication, he sighed and leaned against the counter. Maybe he should just make a quick run to the convenience store. 

"Looking for something?"

He looked behind him, and Izumi stepped into the kitchen. "Director."

"Good morning. You look kinda...terrible."

Tsumugi tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace because his head still hurt. "Ahh, I'm looking for some pain medication. It looks like I'm still hungover from last night."

She frowned in concern. "Wait here a sec."

The director quickly turned away, towards the opposite side of the kitchen, pulled out a drawer, and grabbed some pills. Then she slid the cabinet above, retrieved a glass, and poured him some water from the dispenser nearby. 

"Here you go!"

Tsumugi gratefully took the glass of water, and swallowed the pain medication she placed in his hands. The relief wouldn't start until later, but it was better than nothing. 

"You know, you guys really had me worried last night."

She crossed her arms, leaning back against the counter, with an expression of concern on her face.

"I'm sorry," Tsumugi closed his eyes because the light still hurt too much, and because something like guilt was blossoming in his chest. "I'll keep it to one drink next time so I can keep an eye out for everyone."

"No, you don't have to do that! I know how much drinking on your days off mean to you, especially around the other guys, and i-," Izumi paused her tirade, noticing Tsumugi leaning against the counter, trying his best to appear normal except his head felt wrong. "Are you alright?"

That was a resounding no, but he supposed he deserved it.

"I'm fine," Tsumugi answered weakly.

Then Izumi placed both her palms out, and gestured for him to do the same. "Here. May I?"

Tsumugi automatically followed her movements, and she pulled his left hand forward. Then she started rubbing circles at the base between his thumb and index finger. 

"This a pressure point! Sakyo-san said massaging it helps release tension and headaches," she smiled proudly. "Give me your other hand."

Tsumugi complied, and she did the same thing on the right, putting pressure on the spot between his thumb and index finger, gently kneading it. 

"Is it working?"

He wanted to tell her, no, he didn't feel anything different, but her hands were warm as she cupped both of his, massaging it. Not to mention, it felt surprisingly good, and he didn't want her to stop. As the director continued her unconventional methods in easing his headache, Tsumugi's expression softened.

That was when Izumi glanced up and noticed Tsumugi, smiling and openly staring at her face, and suddenly felt nervous.

"Sorry. That was annoying," she promptly dropped his hands, and looked away to hide the pink color on her cheeks.

He laughed. "No, thank you director."