The Spider Lily Turns into a Chrysanthemum

Ichimaku: Chapter 12

Yoshino had been watching Shouma from across the room long enough that she was beginning to annoy herself.

He sat at one of the longer tables with five other members of the gumi, one arm resting loosely against the back of his chair while the other remained near the small glass of sake in front of him. His jacket had been discarded somewhere, and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled to his forearms, giving him the same relaxed, vaguely disinterested appearance he always seemed to adopt when he was surrounded by the men. He spoke when someone addressed him, occasionally nodded along to whatever story was being told, and otherwise looked entirely unbothered by anything happening around him.

Including Yoshino. At least, that was what he wanted her to think. She had already caught him looking at her twice.

Both times, Shouma had turned his attention elsewhere the moment their eyes met, so casually that anyone else might have believed it was coincidence. Yoshino knew him too well for that now. She knew the difference between his natural indifference and the particular stillness he adopted when he was deliberately pretending not to pay attention to something. It had been strange discovering how much she could read in him once she stopped convincing herself there was nothing there to read.

Then he lifted the cigarette between his fingers to his mouth. Yoshino’s eyes narrowed. Shouma inhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on the man speaking beside him, but the faintest movement appeared at the corner of his mouth. He knew. He absolutely knew she was staring at him.

You said you were cutting back.

He tapped the cigarette over the ashtray.

Yoshino continued glaring. Shouma Toraishi.

Across the room, he took another drag.

What made it particularly irritating was that Yoshino knew exactly what he was doing. Around everyone else, they had silently agreed to behave as they always had. Nothing had changed. Shouma was still Shouma, Yoshino was still Yoshino, and whatever had happened between them over the last several days belonged to them until they decided otherwise. Apparently Shouma had interpreted that agreement to mean he was free to ignore her while smoking directly in her line of sight.

Beside Yoshino, Tsubaki elegantly cut another piece of grilled steak. She had been watching the silent argument unfold from the corner of her eye for several minutes, although unlike her cousin, she possessed enough restraint not to make her observations obvious. She took another bite, chewed thoughtfully, then reached for her wine before finally deciding she’d had enough entertainment.

“So, are you going to continue staring at him angrily?”

Yoshino whipped her head around. “I’m not.”

Tsubaki’s expression remained perfectly neutral.

Yoshino waited for her to say something.

She didn’t.

“You’re making a face,” Yoshino accused.

“I’m eating.”

“You’re judging me while you’re eating.”

Tsubaki delicately dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “I’m capable of doing both.”

Yoshino frowned and looked back across the room despite herself. Shouma was still holding the cigarette, though he had finally placed it closer to the ashtray instead of his mouth.

“I just thought I distracted him from smoking.”

Tsubaki’s fork stopped halfway toward her plate.

Yoshino realized her mistake immediately.

“Distracted him?” Tsubaki repeated. “How so?”

“No, I mean—” Yoshino quickly reached for another piece of steak. “We’ve been busy. That’s all. Driving everywhere, going between Kyoto and Osaka, getting things ready here. I thought with everything going on, maybe he wouldn’t smoke as much.”

She shoved the steak into her mouth and gave Tsubaki what she hoped was an innocent smile.

Tsubaki narrowed her gentle eyes.

“Oh, Yoshino. I’m not buying that.”

Yoshino’s eyes widened slightly before she became very interested in chewing.

The party around them provided enough noise to conceal the conversation. Members of the gumi occupied nearly every table, drinking, eating and talking over one another while someone near the back doors laughed loudly enough to draw complaints from the next table. Cigarette smoke lingered beneath the lights despite the open doors leading toward the street, mixing with the smell of grilled meat and alcohol. It was the kind of gathering Yoshino had grown up around—loud, familiar, occasionally chaotic, and yet tonight she felt strangely conscious of everything she did. Or perhaps she was only conscious of one person noticing.

Tsubaki followed her gaze across the room and watched Shouma for a moment. “I think we should go for a walk.”

Yoshino looked at her suspiciously. “Why?”

“Our medical spa is only two blocks away. I want to check on something before tomorrow.”

“And?”

Tsubaki’s mouth curved.

Yoshino knew that expression.

“And,” Tsubaki continued, “I’d like to know more without all this noise.”

“Tsubaki.”

“Finish eating.”

“You’re terrifying.”

“I know hee hee”

Shouma noticed Yoshino and Tsubaki getting up before either of them had made it halfway across the room.

He had been listening, barely, to one of the men beside him talk about something that had happened earlier in the week, but the conversation immediately became background noise when he saw Tsubaki reach for her white Hermès bag. Tsubaki said something to her that he couldn’t hear, and Yoshino nodded before following her toward the doors leading outside. There was no reason to worry. He knew that. They were surrounded by members of the gumi, there were cameras throughout the neighborhood, and Tsubaki was hardly someone who needed protecting. Yoshino herself was more capable than most people gave her credit for. None of those facts stopped Shouma from pushing his chair back.

The legs scraped loudly against the floor.

Several men looked over.

“Yo, everything good, man?”

Shouma barely glanced at them. His eyes remained on Yoshino. “I just wanted to make sure she’s okay.”

There was a moment of silence before someone across the table laughed.

“Oh, shit. That’s right. Guard duty.”

Shouma finally looked at him.

The man raised both hands. “I’m just saying.”

“Bro, she’s with Tsubaki,” another added. “She’ll be fine. We’ve got cameras everywhere, and there’s a guard dog on every damn corner from here to ten blocks out.”

“Seriously. Somebody could breathe wrong around Yoshino and half the gumi would know about it.”

“Plus Akira would probably crawl out of a sewer if Tsubaki called him.”

The table erupted into laughter.

Shouma didn’t.

His first instinct was still to follow her, and that bothered him more than their teasing did. A week ago, he could have explained it away as habit. Everyone knew he watched over Yoshino. He had done it for years without thinking much about it, and no one had ever questioned why he seemed to know where she was or whether she had gotten home safely. The problem was that he knew it wasn’t the same anymore. If he followed her now, it wouldn’t be because Renji expected him to watch out for her. It would be because the thought of Yoshino disappearing somewhere he couldn’t see her made something inside him restless.

Shouma forced his expression back into its usual indifference and slowly sat down. Just before Yoshino stepped through the back door, she looked over her shoulder.

Their eyes met.

The room seemed to disappear for the briefest moment. Yoshino didn’t smile or wave. She simply held his gaze, her expression softening in a way that would have meant nothing to anyone who wasn’t looking for it. Shouma understood immediately. I’m fine.

His shoulders loosened. Yoshino turned and followed Tsubaki outside. Neither of them noticed Renji watching from the other side of the party. Renji had spent enough years around Shouma to recognize changes most people missed. The younger man had always been difficult to read if someone expected his emotions to appear in obvious places; they rarely did. They existed in the slight tension around his mouth, in the direction his eyes moved before the rest of him followed, in the fractional pause before he decided whether something deserved his attention. Around Yoshino, those small betrayals multiplied.

Renji lifted his drink to his mouth and watched Shouma settle back into his chair. There was nothing particularly surprising about the attachment itself. Renji had known for years that Shouma loved his granddaughter, even if Shouma had never said it aloud. He trusted him because of it, though perhaps more importantly, he trusted Shouma’s restraint. Aside from Hotei, there were very few men Renji would have allowed to spend as much time alone with Yoshino as Shouma had. Shouma was easy enough to understand. Yoshino was the problem.

Renji’s gaze drifted toward the door through which she had disappeared. Sending her to Tokyo had served a much larger purpose within the clans, but he could easily have ordered Shouma to accompany her. He had deliberately chosen not to. Distance had been necessary, for Yoshino especially, and what she did with that distance had been hers to decide. Now she was back, and something between them had changed. Renji couldn’t identify exactly what, but he knew his granddaughter well enough to recognize when she was trying too hard to behave normally.

Shouma, I can figure out, he thought, taking another drink. My granddaughter? I have no damn idea.

It was only a matter of time before one of them said something. If they had already gotten together and were intentionally hiding it from him, however, Renji would be significantly less amused. Unfortunately for Shouma, Renji already knew which one of them would receive most of that irritation.

“So what was Tokyo actually like for Yoshino?”

The question pulled Shouma’s attention away from the door. He looked toward the man sitting opposite him. “What?”

“Tokyo. We heard all kinds of shit while she was gone.”

“Mostly about that Miyama kid,” another man added, reaching for the sake bottle.

Something in Shouma’s expression changed.

“Kirishima?” the first asked. “That’s his name, right?”

“Yeah. Kirishima Miyama.”

“I heard he’s fucking psychotic.”

The man beside him laughed. “Apparently that doesn’t stop women from loving him.”

“Rich, handsome and crazy. That’s basically a type.”

Shouma reached for his cup, already regretting remaining at the table.

“I bet Yoshino liked him,” someone said.

His fingers stopped around the ceramic.

“She hasn’t really dated anybody that we know of,” the man continued, oblivious. “And apparently that guy’s handsome as hell.”

Another shrugged. “Our Yoshino’s beautiful. Put her next to some Tokyo pretty boy and they’d probably look good together.”

The sharp crack of ceramic against wood silenced the table. Shouma had brought his cup down hard enough for sake to spill over the rim and run across his fingers. He didn’t seem to notice.

“That piece of shit put Yoshino in dangerous situations more than once.” His voice remained quiet, but the anger underneath it was unmistakable. “He’s lucky Yoshino stopped me from ripping his face off.”

The men stared at him.

One blinked.

Another slowly lowered his drink. “Damn.”

Shouma reached for the bottle.

The man beside him gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “Guy must really be a piece of shit if he got a reaction out of you.”

“Yeah.” Shouma poured another drink, his jaw tightening at the memory of Kirishima’s face. “He’s the biggest piece of shit.” He swallowed the sake in one go. The rest of the men at the table got the vibe and changed the subject. Shouma continued to smoke as he lowered his body deeper into his chair, and with a deep breath he looked up at the night sky.

By the time Yoshino and Tsubaki reached the next block, the noise from the party had softened into a distant hum behind them. Osaka remained warm even after sunset, the lingering summer heat trapped between buildings and rising faintly from the pavement beneath their feet. Tsubaki walked beside Yoshino at an unhurried pace, her heels clicking rhythmically against the sidewalk while Yoshino held Tsubaki’s purse close against her side. For the first block, neither woman said anything. Yoshino suspected Tsubaki was doing it deliberately.

She lasted another thirty seconds. “Tsubaki?”

“Yes?”

Yoshino looked ahead rather than at her. “How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“When you had feelings for someone.”

Tsubaki glanced sideways at her.

Yoshino immediately regretted beginning the conversation, but it was too late to retreat now. “I mean really having feelings for someone. Or being in love. How did you know the difference?”

“Shouma?”

Yoshino nearly missed a step. “What?”

“You’re asking because of Shouma.”

“I didn’t say Shouma.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Tsubaki….”

The quiet laugh beside her made Yoshino’s face warm. She had expected teasing, but hearing Shouma’s name spoken so casually in connection with love still made something flutter uncomfortably in her stomach. She had spent too many years training herself not to associate the two things openly.

“I was asking you a serious question.”

“And I gave you a serious question.” Tsubaki looked at her properly now. “You’re asking because of Shouma?”

Yoshino crossed her arms. “Maybe.”

“Have you slept together yet?”

Yoshino stopped walking.

Tsubaki continued for another step before stopping too.

“Tsubaki!”

A couple farther down the sidewalk glanced toward them.

Yoshino lowered her voice immediately. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Because sex tends to complicate feelings.”

“That is an incredibly vulgar question.”

“It wasn’t vulgar. It was direct.”

“You can’t just ask people whether they’re having sex.”

“I can ask my cousin.”

“No, you can’t.”

“I just did.”

Yoshino stared at her in appalled silence until Tsubaki finally laughed and hooked her arm through Yoshino’s, gently pulling her forward again. Despite herself, Yoshino went with her.

“I’ll stop teasing,” Tsubaki promised.

Yoshino gave her a look.

“Mostly.”

“Is this how you tease Shouma? This is horrible.”

“And yet you came with me.”

“Because I thought you were going to give me advice.”

“I am.”

They reached the commercial building a few minutes later. Tsubaki retrieved the key from her purse and unlocked the front door before entering the security code into the panel just inside. A soft electronic beep sounded, followed by the overhead lights illuminating automatically one section at a time. The finished lounge near the entrance looked almost strangely elegant compared with the unfinished space beyond it. Yoshino placed Tsubaki’s white Hermès bag on one of the leather couches while Tsubaki walked toward the small refreshment bar that had already been installed along the wall.

“Tea?”

“Yes, please.”

Yoshino sat down and watched Tsubaki prepare it. A coffee machine stood beside neatly arranged cups and several tea sets that had already been unpacked for the eventual opening. The ordinary domesticity of watching water heat and tea steep gave Yoshino a moment to reconsider everything she’d been about to confess. Then Tsubaki returned carrying two cups and placed one on the coffee table in front of her. She sat opposite Yoshino.

“All right.”

Yoshino wrapped both hands around her tea.

Tsubaki crossed one leg over the other. “Talk.”

“Um…well…”

There was no teasing in her cousin’s expression now. “I’m listening.”

Yoshino lowered her eyes toward the steam rising from her cup. It was strange how much more frightening the words became once she actually had permission to say them. She had spent years keeping these feelings somewhere private, first because she had been too young to understand them and later because acknowledging them seemed pointless. Shouma had simply existed in a part of her heart she had trained herself not to touch.

“I’ve been in love with him since I was a preteen.”

Saying it aloud made her chest tighten. Tsubaki didn’t interrupt.

“I didn’t really understand it then. I just knew I always wanted him around. I wanted his attention. If he talked to me differently than everyone else, I’d think about it all day. If he ignored me, I’d get upset even when I didn’t have a reason to.” Yoshino gave a small, embarrassed laugh. “Then I got older and realized what it actually was.”

She ran her thumb slowly along the rim of her cup.

“By the beginning of high school, I decided I needed to get rid of it. I bottled everything up and convinced myself it was childish. Then Shouma graduated and started university, and eventually I went to Tokyo. Being away from him made it easier. Not immediately, but eventually. I almost started forgetting what those feelings were like.”

Tsubaki remained quiet enough that Yoshino found herself continuing without being prompted.

“I almost gave Kirishima a chance.”

That produced the slightest change in Tsubaki’s expression.

Yoshino looked up. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You made a face.”

“It doesn’t matter what face I make. Continue.”

Yoshino sighed and looked back at her tea. “I cared about him. I still care about him in a way. And if I’d stayed in Tokyo longer…” She hesitated. “I think we probably would have done more eventually. Maybe a lot more. But something was always missing. My heart wasn’t completely in it.”

The memory of Tokyo came back differently now that she was sitting somewhere quiet enough to examine it. Kirishima had occupied so much of her life there that, at the time, it had seemed impossible to separate him from everything that happened. He was danger and excitement and frustration wrapped together, always appearing before she could decide whether she wanted him there.

“When Azami kidnapped me, I kept thinking Kirishima would come,” Yoshino said more quietly. “Realistically, I knew he was the one who could get to me. Shouma wasn’t even in Tokyo. There was no reason to think he would suddenly appear.”

She paused.

“But deep down, I wanted him to.”

Tsubaki’s expression softened.

“I wanted Shouma to be the one who broke down the door.” Yoshino smiled faintly at how irrational it sounded now. “I knew he couldn’t. I knew Kirishima would probably reach me first. But some part of me still kept wishing for Shouma.”

She finally looked up.

“And then I came home. I told myself Tokyo was over and I was going to live a new life. I think doing that somehow threw away the lid I’d been keeping over everything all these years.”

For several seconds, Tsubaki simply studied her. “Have you told each other you love each other?”

Yoshino’s cheeks immediately warmed. “I think so.”

“You think so?”

“No…I mean, yes. Sort of.” Her seriousness began dissolving beneath a smile she couldn’t suppress. “It’s complicated.”

Tsubaki raised an eyebrow.

Yoshino shifted on the couch, drawing her feet up slightly as an almost giddy energy worked its way through her. “Honestly…”

“Yes?”

“I feel this insane pull when I’m around him.”

Tsubaki waited.

“And heat.” Yoshino pressed her fingers against her cheek as though that might hide the blush spreading across it. “Sometimes he’ll touch me and I swear my entire body just… I dunno…”

“That’s called being horny, Yoshino.”

“TSUBAKI!”

Tsubaki calmly lifted her tea.

“TSUBAKI it’s not just sex!”

“I didn’t say it was.”

“You absolutely implied it.” Yoshino shook her head, trying to find words that didn’t sound ridiculous. “It’s like… I want to melt into him when he holds me. That’s the only way I know how to explain it. I want him to hold me forever. And it’s not like I look at him and think I need to jump his bones all the time or whatever.”

“Not yet.”

“oh my gosh, why am I still talking.”

“Sorry.”

“I haven’t done that with him.” Yoshino’s voice softened. “But I don’t feel afraid of it either. I think when it happens, it’ll just happen naturally. He makes everything feel easy.”

Tsubaki’s expression became more thoughtful. “So you really haven’t had sex?”

“NO!”

“Good.”

Yoshino frowned. “Why is that good?”

“Because if the two of you were already sleeping together behind Renji’s back, he wouldn’t be happy.”

The answer caught Yoshino off guard. She had been thinking almost entirely about herself and Shouma, about what they wanted and what their relationship might become. She hadn’t seriously considered what it would look like from her grandfather’s perspective.

“And you know Renji,” Tsubaki continued. “Most of that anger wouldn’t land on you.”

Understanding slowly appeared on Yoshino’s face. “He’d take it out on Shouma.”

“Yes. Exactly or if not worse, then when you were injured from the motorcycle accident.”

Yoshino leaned back against the couch, thinking about it. “I didn’t look at it that way. We lived together with Gramps. Shouma and I have always been around each other. I didn’t think it would bother him that much.”

“Oh, Yoshino. It would.” Tsubaki set her cup onto its saucer. “Not because he dislikes Shouma. If anything, Renji trusting him as much as he does is probably the only reason this conversation is even possible. But he’s transitioning away from yakuza activities, and until he’s fully out of certain responsibilities, I don’t think he wants you making permanent decisions.”

Yoshino narrowed her eyes. “Permanent?”

“Marriage.”

“MARRIED? I wasn’t talking about marriage!”

“You’re shouting.”

“You just skipped about fifty steps!”

Tsubaki remained silent.

“I mean…” Yoshino immediately began stumbling over her own words. “I’m not saying I wouldn’t marry him. Obviously, if I had to marry someone, it would probably be Shouma. Not that I have to. I mean, I would want to if…eventually…like he asked me, of course I would say yes.”

The amusement on Tsubaki’s face deepened.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“We’re talking about becoming a couple,” Yoshino insisted. “That’s all. Eventually we’re going to have to tell Gramps.”

Tsubaki took another sip of tea before answering. “I’d wait.”

Yoshino’s expression changed. “What?”

“I would hold off on telling Renji. And I’d hold off on officially becoming a couple.”

“Tsubaki, but I want to be with him.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

Yoshino fell quiet.

Tsubaki leaned back slightly. “I’m saying don’t behave like a couple publicly yet. Not around the gumi, not at events, not anywhere people are watching you. You and Shouma have been close for years. Everyone is already accustomed to the way you behave around each other. Use that.”

Yoshino thought about Shouma across the room earlier, pretending not to look at her while knowing perfectly well she was staring at him.

“I see what you mean.”

“Yoshino…behind closed doors, it can be different.”

Yoshino looked at her.

Tsubaki shrugged elegantly. “Behind closed doors, you can fuck each other as much as you want.”

“TSUBAKI!”

“What?”

“Don’t say it like that!”

“How would you like me to say it?”

“I don’t know. Just not like that.”

“And definitely don’t get pregnant.”

Yoshino stared at her.

Tsubaki stared back with complete seriousness, “We’re going to have to discuss that.”

“No, we’re not.”

“Yes, we are.”

“I know how babies happen.”

“That wasn’t what concerned me.”

“Tsubaki.”

“Tomorrow night after opening, I’ll have Akira drop me off at Shouma’s. We’ll go through everything.”

Yoshino’s face twisted. “I don’t know if I feel comfortable doing that. Especially with Shouma there.”

“Who said anything about doing it in front of Shouma? We’ll go into whichever room you’ve claimed as yours and—”

“How about now?”

Tsubaki stopped. Her eyebrows rose. “Huh.”

“You already started this conversation.”

“Well…” Tsubaki reached toward her purse. “I do have most of what I’d need here. Some of it is in my office. Some is in my purse.”

Yoshino’s eyes widened. “What do you mean in your purse?”

Tsubaki giggled, and Yoshino immediately regretted asking.

“Oh, Yoshino. You really are innocent.”

“I am not.”

“You are, and I think that’s part of why I love you so much.” Tsubaki stood and offered her hand. “It’s probably part of why Kirishima became so obsessed with you.”

Yoshino grimaced at the name.

“And probably part of why Shouma is the way he is with you.”

The protest disappeared from Yoshino’s mouth. Her face warmed all over again as she accepted Tsubaki’s hand and allowed herself to be pulled from the couch. They moved beyond the finished lounge toward the unfinished portion of the commercial space, and it wasn’t until Yoshino stepped around several boxes that she actually stopped and looked around. She had been so consumed by talking about Shouma that she had barely registered where they were.

The future medical spa stretched much farther back than the lounge suggested. Fresh white sheetrock divided the interior into treatment rooms and consultation spaces, some nearly complete while others remained open enough that Yoshino could still see the framing beyond them. The floors were smooth, cleaned concrete in several sections, waiting for the stacks of pale marble tile arranged carefully along one wall. Large mirrors remained wrapped in protective material, leaning upright beside boxes of lighting fixtures, furniture and equipment that had yet to be assembled.

A temporary worktable had been covered with rolled architectural plans, material samples and catalogs. Even unfinished, the space already carried the beginnings of the clean, luxurious design Tsubaki had envisioned. Yoshino could imagine the harsh construction smell eventually replaced by skincare products and clean linen, the bare walls decorated, the boxes gone and clients moving quietly between rooms.

“Oh, wow.”

Tsubaki looked back at her.

Yoshino slowly turned in place. “I was so excited talking about Shouma that I completely forgot we’re inside our future medical spa.”

Tsubaki gave her a knowing smile, “You’re going to love the end result.”

“This really is beautiful.” Yoshino looked down the unfinished corridor. “And it’s not even done yet.”

For a moment, her thoughts shifted away from Shouma, Kirishima, Renji and the gumi entirely. Standing there, she could see something that belonged to another part of her life, something she and Tsubaki could build that wasn’t dictated by the men around them or the families they’d been born into. It made the empty building feel strangely alive already.

Across the street, Shouma stood partially concealed beneath the shadow of a closed storefront, watching the illuminated windows of the commercial building while another cigarette burned between his fingers. He knew he shouldn’t have followed them. Knowing that hadn’t stopped him. He had remained at the party long enough to convince himself Yoshino was fine, then spent several more minutes becoming increasingly irritated by the fact that he couldn’t see her. Tsubaki was capable of taking care of herself. Yoshino was capable too. There were gumi members throughout the neighborhood, security cameras on the surrounding streets, and absolutely no rational reason for him to be standing outside the medical spa. Yet there he was.

Shouma inhaled and slowly exhaled toward the empty street. Part of his unease had nothing to do with Tsubaki.

It was Kirishima.

The conversation at the table had dragged the man back into Shouma’s thoughts, though in truth Kirishima had never completely left them. Shouma didn’t believe for a second that Yoshino leaving Tokyo meant Kirishima Miyama would simply accept that she was gone. He had seen enough of the man, and heard enough from Yoshino to know better.

He’s going to come back. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow. But eventually.

The thought made Shouma’s jaw tighten. He wanted the spa finished as soon as possible. Once the business opened, he would have another reason to remain near Yoshino without anyone questioning it. He could help with the gumi’s involvement in the operation and make sure she and Tsubaki had whatever they needed. Thursday through Saturday, anyway. Shouma frowned as he remembered the university schedule waiting for him once summer ended.

“Damn classes.”

For now, they weren’t a problem. Eventually, they would be.

His thoughts shifted again, this time toward Renji. That was another conversation waiting for him whether he liked it or not. Shouma wanted to tell him eventually. Hiding something this important from the man indefinitely wasn’t an option, and more than that, Shouma didn’t want Yoshino put in the position of feeling as though she had to sneak around forever. But it was too soon. He and Yoshino had spent years refusing to acknowledge what existed between them. Now that they’d finally stopped pretending, Shouma wanted time with her before their relationship became something everyone else was entitled to discuss.

When we’re ready. Then we’ll tell Renji together.

Shouma took another drag and stared at the windows. Whatever Tsubaki was telling Yoshino had kept them inside much longer than he expected. He didn’t like that either.

Tsubaki’s future office was one of the more finished rooms toward the back of the commercial space. The flooring had already been installed, the recessed lights cast a warmer glow than the temporary lighting outside, and a large desk stood against one wall with several cabinets behind it. The room was still bare enough to feel new, but Yoshino could already imagine Tsubaki sitting there once the spa opened. At the moment, however, Yoshino was beginning to regret following her inside.

“Sit.”

Yoshino lowered herself suspiciously into the chair opposite the desk. “Why did you say that like a doctor who’s about to give me terrible news?”

Tsubaki sat behind the desk and dropped her purse onto its surface. “Because you keep behaving as though I’m about to perform surgery.”

“I don’t know what you’re about to do.”

“Education.”

“That word is not helping.”

Tsubaki opened her purse and searched through it before removing a small square foil packet and placing it on the desk.

Yoshino stared at it.

Then at Tsubaki.

“I know what that is.”

“Good. We’re ahead of schedule. So then obviously you know this is a condom.”

“I said I know!”

Tsubaki’s mouth curved as she reached into her purse again. This time she removed a small lavender-colored object shaped like a rose and placed it beside the packet.

Yoshino’s eyebrows drew together.

“What is that?”

Tsubaki smiled.

Yoshino immediately pointed at her. “Don’t make that face.”

“Eh hem, THIS, is a type of vibrator.”

Yoshino’s mouth dropped.

Tsubaki explained it without the slightest embarrassment, which somehow made Yoshino more embarrassed on her behalf. She spoke matter-of-factly about understanding her own body, knowing what she was comfortable with and never allowing a partner to decide those things for her. There was nothing vulgar in the way she explained it; if anything, Tsubaki approached the subject with such clinical practicality that Yoshino gradually stopped hiding behind her hands.

Then Tsubaki turned toward the locked cabinet behind her.

Yoshino immediately became suspicious again.

“Why is that locked?”

“Because this is a commercial building.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Tsubaki unlocked it and removed a realistic demonstration model she had apparently stored among several personal things she’d already moved into the office.

Yoshino stared and then her eyes grew wider.

“Tsubaki.”

“Yes?”

“What the hell?”

Tsubaki burst out laughing.

“Why do you have that here?”

“Because I brought several things from home when we started moving into the office.”

“That thing did not need to come with you!”

“I didn’t want Akira finding it.”

Yoshino covered her face. “That somehow makes this worse.”

Tsubaki continued laughing as she placed it on the desk. Once Yoshino could be convinced to look again, however, her cousin kept the explanation practical. She showed her how to check the packaging and expiration date on a condom, explained the importance of using protection correctly from the beginning rather than treating it as an afterthought, and demonstrated the basic process on the model.

Yoshino watched with her chin nearly tucked into her chest.

“You’re going to make me practice, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Tsubaki… I have never felt anger or hatred for you… but right now… I really don’t like you.”

“Oh, stop being a baby. This is nothing. You need to learn regardless. That’s IF you want to have responsible sex.”

“This is humiliating.”

“You’re sitting in a locked office with your cousin.”

“That’s not the part I’m worried about.”

“What part are you worried about?”

Yoshino gestured vaguely toward everything on the desk. “The universe somehow finding a way to make this worse.”

Outside, Shouma had finally lost patience. He put out his cigarette beneath his shoe and crossed the street toward the medical spa, telling himself the entire time that he was only checking on them. One of the gumi members had given him the security code because he would be helping with the space, so the door opened without difficulty.

The lounge is empty which makes sense because I thought I saw their shadows walking around.

He heard voices somewhere toward the back. Then Yoshino yelled. “TSUBAKI!”

Shouma’s pace immediately quickened. He followed the sound through the unfinished corridor, past stacked boxes and wrapped mirrors, until he saw light spilling from one of the offices. Tsubaki’s laughter reached him first, followed by Yoshino’s increasingly horrified protests. Shouma stepped into the doorway.

Tsubaki looked up. “Oh. Hello, Shouma.”

She sounded as though he’d walked in on them discussing paint samples. Yoshino turned. The color drained from her face before returning twice as strongly. Shouma looked at her first. Then his eyes moved toward the desk.

A condom packet.

A small lavender rose-shaped object he understood immediately.

Then the demonstration model.

His gaze slowly returned to Yoshino.

Her eyes widened. “GET OUT!” She flew out of the chair and shoved both hands against his chest.

Shouma stumbled backward more from surprise than the force behind it. “Yoshino—”

“OUT!”

“Okay.”

“It’s not what you think!”

From behind the desk, Tsubaki calmly interjected, “No, it’s exactly what he thinks.”

“TSUBAKI!”

By the time Shouma regained his balance in the hallway, Yoshino had abandoned any attempt at dignity. She crouched near the wall and folded over herself, burying her face against her knees with both arms covering the back of her head. “I want to die.”

Shouma stared down at her for a moment. The embarrassment radiating from her was so intense that any amusement he might have felt disappeared almost immediately. He crouched beside her instead, lowering one knee to the floor as his hand settled gently between her shoulder blades. His palm moved in slow circles against her back.

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Don’t look at me.”

“Okay.”

“You’re still looking at me.”

Shouma’s mouth twitched. “I’m looking at the top of your head.”

His hand continued moving against her back even after he looked away. It was such a familiar gesture that Yoshino slowly began to relax beneath it despite herself. There had been a time when Shouma touching her this way would have registered as nothing more than comfort from someone she’d known most of her life. Now every pass of his palm felt different because she understood the tenderness behind it. Shouma seemed to understand the difference too.

When he looked toward Tsubaki, however, that tenderness disappeared. “Do you have fun toying with people?”

Tsubaki’s laughter gradually faded. Shouma kept one hand on Yoshino’s back as he spoke. “You can say whatever you want to me. I don’t care. But I didn’t think you’d go this low with the person you supposedly say is so precious to you.”

For once, Tsubaki didn’t immediately respond with something sarcastic. Her expression settled, and when she leaned back against the edge of her desk, her voice had lost its teasing quality entirely. “I love my cousin very much.”

Shouma held her gaze.

“I want Yoshino to experience romance. I want her to experience sex when she’s ready. I want her to understand those things well enough that she never has to depend entirely on someone else to tell her what’s normal or what she should be comfortable with.” Tsubaki glanced toward Yoshino before looking back at Shouma. “So yes, I’m teasing her. But I’m also being serious.”

Yoshino slowly lifted her head.

“And for the record,” Tsubaki continued, “you weren’t my first choice.”

Shouma’s eyebrow twitched.

“Tsubaki,” Yoshino warned quietly.

“But apparently she’s in love with you.”

Shouma’s eyes moved immediately toward Yoshino. That was worse than everything on the desk. Yoshino’s face became crimson all over again. “Please stop talking.”

Tsubaki ignored her. “And honestly, I’d much rather she be with you than Kirishima.”

The mention of Kirishima changed Shouma’s expression so subtly that Yoshino might have missed it if she hadn’t been watching him. His hand stopped moving against her back for half a second before continuing. Tsubaki noticed too.

“I already warned him,” she said. “If he ever hurts her, or if he thinks he can come back and interfere with her life whenever he pleases, I’ll do everything I can to make sure Yoshino can disappear from him. Physical trail, digital trail, paperwork, whatever can legally and practically be changed. If she ever genuinely needed to get away from him, I would make it as difficult as possible for him to find her.”

There was nothing playful left in her voice. “So yes, Shouma. I’d rather she be with you.” a pause followed, “Assuming Renji approves.”

Shouma’s jaw tightened slightly.

“I suggest waiting before you announce anything,” Tsubaki continued. “Don’t make any big moves yet. Give yourselves time. Renji doesn’t need to know before the two of you even understand what you’re doing.”

Shouma didn’t hesitate. “Agreed.”

Yoshino finally lifted her head completely. Shouma was still kneeling beside her, one knee against the floor, his hand resting warmly against the middle of her back. When he realized she was looking at him, his expression changed immediately. The hardness Tsubaki had pulled from him disappeared, leaving behind the quiet softness Yoshino was beginning to realize belonged almost exclusively to her.

“You’re fine,” he said.

Yoshino swallowed. “You saw everything.”

“Yeah.”

Her face crumpled. Shouma immediately realized that had been the wrong answer, “I mean, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“But it IS. I’m so mortified, I just want to hide in a hole.”

“Sorry, but then that means I’d have to jump into the hole with you.”

A reluctant laugh escaped her and Shouma smiled. It was small, barely there, but Yoshino caught it. Tsubaki watched the exchange for several seconds before the familiar mischief returned to her expression. “Honestly, Yoshino, I knew he would follow us eventually.”

Both of them looked at her. Yoshino blinked. “You what?”

“I wanted to get a reaction out of him.”

Shouma slowly narrowed his eyes.

“Tsubaki!”

“It didn’t work as well as I expected.”

“You used me as bait?”

“A little.”

“Tsubaki WHAT THE HELL?!.”

Her cousin raised both hands. “I’m sorry. Truly. That part was mean.”

Yoshino continued glaring, “Tsubaki, you’re making me want to resent you and I hate that.”

“But I really did want to teach you these things,” Tsubaki added. “It’s good to know. You don’t need to be ashamed of understanding protection or your own body.”

Shouma’s eyes drifted toward the desk again.

Yoshino caught him immediately. “Please stop looking over there.”

He looked back at her. “I’m not looking.”

“Don’t even think of the image that’s in your memory.”

“I can’t control whether I think.”

For the first time since entering the office, he laughed. It was quiet and brief, little more than a breath beneath his voice, but Yoshino heard it. She stared at him for a second, and the last of her humiliation began giving way to something warmer. This was still Shouma. Nothing terrible had happened. He wasn’t judging her, and he wasn’t making the moment larger than it needed to be. He simply stood and offered her his hand. Yoshino placed hers in it. Shouma pulled her gently to her feet. Their fingers remained together for a second after she was standing, neither of them seeming to realize they were still holding on until Yoshino’s eyes flickered toward Tsubaki.

Tsubaki noticed, “Your secret is safe with me.” For once, she was kind enough not to say anything.

They put everything away, turned off the lights and locked the office before making their way back through the unfinished spa. Yoshino looked straight at the door, still refusing to look directly at Shouma whenever she remembered what he’d walked in on. Every time she did glance at him, however, he seemed perfectly normal.

Ugh, I really don’t know how to act around him. I’m so fucked.

At the far end of the street, a black car sat between two pools of streetlight. Its engine was off. The windows were dark enough that the vehicle looked empty from the sidewalk, just another parked car among several others lining the Osaka street. Nothing about it demanded attention. Inside, someone watched the doors of the medical spa. Yoshino emerged first, adjusting the strap of her black jumper over her shoulder while Tsubaki followed behind her. They were already talking again, Yoshino complaining about something that made Tsubaki laugh as she locked the building. Shouma came out last.

The three started back toward the party together, Tsubaki linking her arm through Yoshino’s as though nothing unusual had happened. Yoshino’s embarrassment had mostly disappeared by then, replaced by the comfortable irritation Tsubaki seemed uniquely capable of provoking in her now. From behind the dark windshield, a pair of golden eyes followed Yoshino. There was something feline in their stillness, patient and unblinking, like a jaguar watching movement through tall grass. Yoshino never looked toward the car, and neither did Tsubaki. They reached the end of the street and turned toward the next block.

Shouma followed a step behind them. Then something made him slow.

He couldn’t have explained what it was. There had been no sound, no movement obvious enough to draw his attention, yet the uneasy sensation he’d carried with him all evening suddenly sharpened. The back of his neck prickled, and instinct made him glance over his shoulder before he had consciously decided to do it. His eyes found the black car. Shouma stopped.

Only for a moment.

The distance and tinted windshield made it impossible to see who sat inside. For all he knew, the car was empty. It could have belonged to anyone in the neighborhood, and there was no rational reason to connect it to the unease that had been following him since the conversation about Tokyo. But Shouma didn’t believe in ignoring instinct. Ahead of him, Yoshino laughed at something Tsubaki said. The sound carried faintly back toward him and Shouma’s expression darkened. He stared at the black windshield, his eyes narrowing with quiet suspicion. Inside the car, golden eyes stared back.

Shouma held the darkness for another second before turning away and following Yoshino around the corner.

There’s no way. I would have kept tabs. We have cameras everywhere. I’ll check it out later. I should be able to figure it out.

“SHOUMA, HURRY UP!” Yoshino yelled at Shouma, who was at the end of the street still looking away, “IS SOMETHING THE MATTER?”

Shouma shook his head and started walking their way back to the main house, “No. Let’s go, pretty sure you didn’t finish eating.”