The Spider Lily Turns into a Chrysanthemum
Ichimaku: Chapter 5
The izakaya was nearly empty by the time Yoshino and Shouma finally stood to leave.
Yoshino thanked the older woman twice before they made it to the door, then turned around to thank the bartender and busboy too. Shouma gave them his usual nod, apparently unaware that all three had spent the last part of their meal watching him behave like an entirely different person.
“Come back again,” the older woman called.
“We will!” Yoshino answered.
Shouma opened the door for her.
Outside, Ponto-chō had settled into its late-night rhythm. The alley was quieter now, the remaining lanterns glowing above mostly empty pavement. Somewhere farther down, a group laughed as they left a bar. Otherwise, the sounds were limited to low conversations, footsteps and the occasional bicycle passing through.
Yoshino stretched both arms above her head as they walked, “I’m so full.”
“You ate enough for three people.”
“Oh shut up, you did too.”
“You ordered more food after saying you were full.”
“That was dessert food.”
They reached the kei truck.
Yoshino pulled the keys from her pocket.
“You drive.”
She tossed them at Shouma.
He caught them easily with one hand, “Why?”
“Because I’m full.”
“That doesn’t affect your ability to drive.”
“It affects my desire to drive,” she walked around to the passenger side before he could argue.
Shouma shook his head, smiling and climbed behind the wheel.
The moment Yoshino settled into her seat, she stretched again.
“Ahhhhhhhhh—”
The yawn that came out of her was so loud and drawn out that Shouma slowly turned his head.
She finished with a satisfied sigh, “What?”
“You sounded like an animal.”
“A lion.”
Shouma started the engine.
Yoshino suddenly turned toward him, “do we have to pick up your bike early in the morning?”
His hand paused over the gearshift.
He gave her a suspicious side-eye. “Why…?”
Yoshino grinned, “Because now I have energy.”
“No.”
“And I want to drink.”
“No.”
“And I want to stay up with you.”
Shouma looked at her again.
“And I missed you.”
That shut him up.
Yoshino leaned toward him excitedly, “I want to stay up like we used to. Let’s watch the sunrise together.”
Shouma looked forward.
He already knew he’d feel like shit in the morning.
He also knew there was very little chance he was saying no now, “Technically, I have until 1pm to pick it up.”
Yoshino’s eyes lit up.
“Otherwise, I have to wait until Monday.”
“Perfect!”
“So I guess we need to be up by twelve.”
“FINE!”
She threw both hands into the air.
“I’ll make sure we wake up. YAYYYYYY!”
Shouma couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corner of his mouth.
“Let’s go to the convenience store,” Yoshino continued. “You buy the alcohol while I make myself look more like I’m twenty.”
“No.”
“I could pull my shirt down.”
Before Shouma could respond, Yoshino hooked her fingers into the neckline of her V-neck.
“Because this always makes people think I’m way older—”
Shouma caught her wrist.
“Stop it.”
Yoshino looked at him.
“Pull your shirt up.”
“Why?”
“The locals know us. We’ll be fine.”
She fixed her shirt. Then she scratched lightly at her head, “You know what I just realized?”
“What?”
“I really missed you.”
Shouma looked at her.
Yoshino’s expression had softened.
“When I was in Tokyo, I always had my guard up,” she leaned back against the seat, “I mean, I can be a badass and mean when I need to be. You know that.”
“I know.”
“But deep down, I hate having to pretend all the time.”
She looked through the windshield, “I’m like every other girl. Sometimes I want to laugh too loud and do stupid shit and be bubbly without thinking about whether somebody is going to use it against me.”
Shouma listened quietly.
“And you make me feel like I can be bubbly.”
“Well, you’re not like every other girl.”
“Yeah, I know,” Yoshino smiled faintly, “Gramps is powerful. I’m the direct heir. Even when I had bodyguards with me all the time as a kid and everyone treated me like a princess, I still felt free.”
She looked back at him, “And out of everyone, you make me feel the most free. I don’t have to pretend to be tough with you.”
Shouma’s hand remained on the gearshift. For a few seconds, he simply looked at her, “I’ll always be here.”
Yoshino stared at him.
Her hand slowly lifted toward his face.
Shouma’s eyes followed it.
At the last second, she shoved her fingers into his black hair and messed it up.
“And I’ll always be here for you, you butthead.”
His expression immediately flattened.
“But I need you to find something you want to do for yourself too.”
“Aren’t you hiring me Monday?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll be plenty busy.”
“True, but I mean hobbies, dude.”
“Don’t have time,” Shouma pulled away from the curb, “Unless driving and maintaining bikes counts.”
“That absolutely counts.”
“Then that’s my hobby. I like collecting them,” he turned onto the main road, “I just don’t have the space right now. And I need to focus on fixing the other bikes for the Somei-gumi.”
Yoshino slowly made an exaggerated face of realization, “You know what?”
Shouma glanced at her.
“You’re right.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“No, it legitimately is a hobby!”
She laughed. Then as she reaches out to the wind outside her window, she sighs, “I just feel like a teenager right now. This is so FUN!”
“You’re the one who makes it fun.”
Yoshino looked at him, “Well, I’m able to have fun because you’re okay going along with the shenanigans.”
She paused.
“Actually…”
Shouma waited.
“From now on, I really want you to stop me.”
“What?”
“Like, if there’s something I’m doing that isn’t rational, or something that’ll get you in trouble with Gramps, stop me.”
She became more serious.
“I don’t want you getting hurt because of me. Y’know?”
Shouma kept his eyes on the road. Then he nodded, “Okay.”
Whether he’d actually be able to tell Yoshino no when it mattered was another question.
The convenience store was only five minutes away.
Shouma parked.
Yoshino immediately reached for the door.
“Remember, I’m twenty.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Spiritually.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“What if they ask?”
“They won’t.”
“What if they do?”
“I’ll buy it.”
“Right. You’re my responsible bro.”
Shouma stared at her.
“Don’t ever call me that again.”
Yoshino laughed as she hopped out.
Inside, the bright fluorescent lighting felt almost offensive after the dim streets of Ponto-chō.
Yoshino wandered through the aisles while Shouma went toward the refrigerated alcohol.
When he found her again, she was holding a basket with two aloe vera drinks, chips, chocolate, gummies and something she’d apparently chosen solely because the packaging was cute.
Shouma looked into her arms.
“We just ate.”
“These are for later.”
“Later is in ten minutes.”
“Exactly.”
He placed a pack of grapefruit alcoholic seltzers into the basket.
Yoshino looked at it.
“That’s it?”
“For now.”
“You’re boring.”
“You’re nineteen.”
“Shhh.”
They approached the register.
The young woman behind it looked up.
Then froze.
She was pretty, probably close to Shouma’s age, with long dark hair pulled away from her face by a simple headband. Her makeup was polished and soft—straight brows, luminous skin, carefully defined eyes and glossy lips.
Her gaze landed on Shouma.
“…Shouma.”
Yoshino looked between them.
Shouma’s face gave away nothing.
“Kanomiya.”
There was a pause.
Yoshino smiled politely, “Hi.”
Kanomiya didn’t acknowledge her. She began scanning their things.
Slowly.
Far too slowly.
Her eyes kept returning to Shouma, “How have you been?”
“Fine.”
“I haven’t seen you around.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Oh,” She scanned another item.
Then another.
Her hand moved toward the phone beside the register.
Shouma noticed.
“Kanomiya.”
She stopped.
“Can you hurry up and cash me out? You’re taking too long.”
Her face stiffened.
Shouma continued in the same calm tone, “I’m great. I hope you do well.”
Yoshino’s eyes widened slightly.
“And this is my girlfriend.”
Yoshino’s head snapped toward him.
Shouma didn’t look at her.
“You can keep your phone to the side because I won’t be sharing my contact information.”
Kanomiya’s face flushed.
Yoshino’s did too.
For entirely different reasons.
Kanomiya quickly finished the transaction and bowed.
“I’m sorry.”
Shouma took the receipt and bag, “Thanks.”
Then he turned and walked out.
Yoshino stood there for half a second.
She looked at Kanomiya.
The girl looked humiliated.
Yoshino immediately leaned toward her, “Hey.”
Kanomiya finally looked at her.
“I’m not his girlfriend. We’re family…” she lowered her voice, “I’m sorry he made you feel bad. Have a good night, okay?”
Then Yoshino dashed for the door.
“YOSHINO.”
Shouma’s voice came from outside.
She winced.
“Coming!”
She hurried across the parking lot.
Shouma’s eyes followed her the entire way until she reached the passenger door.
“What was that about?”
“Oh, I just apologized,” Yoshino scratched the side of her head and smiled.
Shouma narrowed his eyes, “Why?”
“Because I’m going to be living around here eventually, and I’m not trying to make more female enemies.”
“Too bad.”
“What?”
“You’re Renji’s granddaughter, and I’ll be with you most of the time,” he opened the driver’s door, “So you’re gonna have to get used to it. Sorry.”
Yoshino gave him a weak smile, “That’s totally reassuring.”
She climbed inside.
Shouma got behind the wheel, “Why do I have a feeling you said something else to her?”
“Nope.”
“Yoshino.”
“Nada.”
She pointed forward.
“Now drive. I want to see your new apartment so we can drinkkkk.”
He stared at her.
She grinned.
Shouma started the truck.
Ten minutes later, they pulled into a quiet residential area.
Yoshino leaned toward the windshield.
“Oh.”
Shouma reversed the kei truck into the open garage beneath a narrow three-story townhouse.
The building was modern but compact, squeezed neatly between similar residences. The first floor was partially occupied by the garage, while the upper floors rose vertically above it, with a small balcony visible near the top.
“This is actually really nice.”
“Wait until you see how many stairs there are.”
Shouma killed the engine.
He handed Yoshino the convenience-store bag, “Take this.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And wait.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Stop.”
Yoshino laughed.
Shouma went around back to retrieve their luggage.
At the entrance, he used both a key and keypad before the door unlocked.
The first-floor lights came on automatically when they entered.
Yoshino looked around, “Fancy.”
“Welcome home,” Shouma gestured downward, “Shoes off. This isn’t the main house.”
Yoshino rolled her eyes, “You act like I do that everywhere.”
“I dunno. Some people, like your cousin, are so westernized and live in full luxury that they walk into people’s houses wearing their two-thousand-dollar heels.”
Yoshino paused.
Then laughed awkwardly, “You’re not wrong. Tsubaki does do that.”
“Exactly.”
She followed him inside.
“All right,” Shouma said. “First floor is the entrance, living room and kitchen.”
Yoshino immediately headed for the refrigerator.
She put the seltzers inside.
Then stopped, “Damn, Shouma.”
“What?”
“You have nothing in this damn fridge.”
“I have food.”
“You have sauces,” she began moving things around, “Rice. Seaweed. More sauces. What even is this?”
“Something I eat.”
Yoshino stared at him.
“All right. We’re grocery shopping tomorrow too.”
“Whatever,” Shouma shrugged and carried the luggage toward the stairs, “The stairs are narrow.”
“Nooo shit.”
“I could’ve lived in a one-floor studio, but Renji left the apartment assignment to Tsubaki.”
Yoshino immediately understood, “And this is what she picked.”
“Yep.”
Yoshino followed him upstairs, “Wait. Are you paying for this?”
“Of course not.”
“Oh.”
“But it makes me feel like I need to pull more hours with your old man,” he glanced upward, “And who knows what else Tsubaki will say or do.”
Yoshino clicked her tongue, “Hey! She’s super kind.”
“Sure,” Shouma looked back at her, “To you.”
Yoshino smiled, “And that’s what matters. But it’s funny because you’re that way too.”
They reached the second floor.
“This is the second floor,” a narrow hallway divided three rooms, “One bedroom with a half bath on the left. Two smaller rooms on the right.”
Shouma pointed toward each, “That one’s my workout room that sometimes is an office. Other one’s storage with an extra bed.”
“And upstairs?”
“Master bedroom.”
They continued to the third floor.
The uppermost level was surprisingly spacious compared with the rest of the house. The master bedroom had its own closet and bathroom, along with doors leading to a small outdoor terrace furnished with a table and chairs.
Yoshino stepped outside, “Oh, this is cool.”
“It’s not finished.”
“What?”
“Furniture hasn’t come yet.”
She turned, “This room is huge.”
“Which is why we’re sleeping downstairs.”
“You could sleep up here.”
“On what?”
“The floor.”
“No.”
Yoshino laughed.
They carried everything back to the second floor, leaving Yoshino’s suitcase in the bedroom on the left and Shouma’s duffel in the room across the hall.
On their way downstairs, Yoshino jumped over two steps.
Then another two.
“Look—” Her sandal slipped.
Shouma caught her around the waist, “Jesus.”
Yoshino grabbed his shoulders, “I’m fine!”
“Watch yourself,” He steadied her, “We haven’t even started drinking and you’re already slipping and falling.”
“Heeeey,” She continued downstairs normally this time, “You used to do way crazier things when we were both in high school.”
Yoshino hopped off the last step.
“It did suck that you were one year ahead of me.”
Shouma looked at her.
“I honestly think that’s why Gramps sent me to Tokyo. I was alone for my last year.”
She shrugged, “but whatevs.”
Shouma didn’t answer.
He went to the refrigerator, pulled out two grapefruit seltzers and cracked them open.
By the end of Yoshino’s second drink, her face was bright red.
Shouma noticed before she did.
They were sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, supposedly discussing what they needed to do tomorrow.
The list had started reasonably. Wake up. Pick up Shouma’s motorcycle. Buy Yoshino a new phone.
Grocery shopping, apparently.
Then Yoshino stopped talking.
She stared at him.
Shouma lowered his drink, “What?”
Her eyes narrowed, “Nothing.”
“What are you looking at?”
“You.”
“Why?”
She smiled.
Shouma sighed.
There it was.
The drunk look.
“You know…”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“If I’m going to come live here in Kyoto when I start university next year…” she rested her chin on her hand, “I should just move in here.”
Shouma took another drink. He looked toward the ceiling, “Sure.”
Yoshino blinked, “Really?”
“Why not?”
Her entire face brightened.
He shrugged, “anyways, if you had your own place, I’d still have to move next door or be there twenty-four-seven…might as well.”
“YES!”
“We’re gonna have to tell Tsubaki,” Shouma could already hear her. The comments.
The smiling. The insinuations.
His eye twitched.
Yoshino didn’t notice. She was already celebrating her hypothetical move, “This is going to be so fun.”
She stood, “And I want another drink.”
Shouma watched her walk toward the refrigerator.
Yoshino tried to opened it.
His hand appeared above hers and pushed it closed, “NO.”
“HEEEEEEEY.”
“You’ve had enough.”
“Move your handddd.”
“No,” Shouma glared at Yoshino, “You’re done.”
“NO.”
Yoshino pushed at him.
Shouma barely moved.
“Now MOVE!”
“Yoshino.”
She shoved at him again.
She managed to pry the refrigerator open, grabbed another seltzer and immediately cracked it.
“Got it!”
“Give me that.”
Yoshino took several huge swallows.
“Yoshino.”
And then she ran.
“Are you serious?”
She sprinted toward the stairs, holding the can directly in front of herself so Shouma couldn’t grab it.
“Don’t run on the fucking stairs!”
Yoshino disappeared upstairs.
Shouma followed.
By the time he reached the second floor, she had opened the first bedroom door on the left.
His room.
She hadn’t even realized it.
The room smelled faintly of clean linen and Shouma’s cologne—the fresh citrus and mint opening of Versace Eros softened by warmer notes of vanilla, cedar and woods that had settled into the sheets and clothing around the room.
Yoshino placed the seltzer on the small table.
Then started undressing.
Shouma stopped.
“Yoshino.”
She kicked off her sandals.
Her jeans followed.
Shouma remained at the doorway.
“Before you get into bed, let me get your—”
Yoshino pulled her T-shirt over her head.
Shouma looked away.
She was left in the red lace lingerie Tsubaki had bought her.
“Your pajamas.”
“Nope.”
Yoshino launched herself onto the bed.
“This feels great.”
“Yoshino.”
“I’m staying here. And you’re sitting here with me.”
Shouma dragged a hand down his face as he let out a sigh.
Shouma sat on the floor beside the bed rather than joining her.
Yoshino rolled onto her stomach, facing the same direction as him.
From where she lay, she could see the back of his black hair, his neck and the line of his shoulders.
Shouma sat with one leg extended and the other bent, resting an arm loosely over his raised knee.
Then he felt her fingers enter his hair.
He went still.
Yoshino played with the ends absentmindedly.
His heart started beating harder. He loved that she could do that without even trying.
He could’ve turned around, but he didn’t.
Right now, Yoshino was drunk, half-dressed and completely comfortable because she trusted him. That trust mattered more than whatever he wanted.
“You know…” her fingers continued moving through his hair, “I know we’re off to a good start.”
“With what?”
“Because since we went downstairs to the party, you haven’t smoked a cigarette.”
Shouma sat still as he continued to look at the door..
Yoshino twirled another section of his hair around her finger, “Soooooooooooo…”
He immediately knew he wasn’t going to like whatever came next.
“Who was Kanomiya?”
Shouma closed his eyes.
“I want the lore.”
“Of course you do.”
“Because she looked like she wanted to murder me right then and there, “ Yoshino leaned closer, “And she was ready to give you her number too.”
“Well, now I feel like lighting a cigarette since you’re gonna start asking those damn questions.”
Yoshino stopped playing with his hair.
She propped her head against one hand, “Answer.”
“No.”
“She lives here. And I’mma live here one day.”
Shouma sighed.
“C’mon Shouma, so I should know what’s up.”
For several seconds, he said nothing.
“Her father was a police chief.”
Yoshino’s expression changed, “Oh???”
“I met her because of him,” Shouma kept his gaze ahead, “There were situations where she could make things easier for me. Keep questions from being asked. Tell me when her father was looking into something.”
“And you dated her?”
“For a while.”
“Did you like her?”
“No.”
“Shouma.”
“You wanted the truth.”
Yoshino went quiet.
“She wanted me,” he continued. “I needed what she knew. So I let her have whatever version of me she wanted.”
Yoshino’s brows pulled together, “What does that mean?”
“She wanted a boyfriend. I played boyfriend,” His voice remained flat, “She wanted physical affection, I gave it to her. She wanted to show me off, I went with her. In exchange, she helped keep me out of trouble a few times.”
Yoshino stared at the back of his head, “That sounds horrible.”
“It was useful.”
Something tightened in Yoshino’s chest. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe Kanomiya.
Maybe the way Shouma spoke about himself as though his body was simply another thing he could trade when necessary.
Before she could stop herself, she said it, “I wouldn’t do that.”
Shouma’s eyes shifted.
“I’d treat you right.”
His eyes widened.
He kept facing forward.
Yoshino continued before she had time to reconsider, “I’m jealous of all these girls.”
Shouma’s hand tightened slightly around his knee.
“They get to have you see them as women.”
“Yoshino.”
“And I want to know what a date is really like.”
He ran a hand through his hair, “We already do most of that.”
“What?”
“We go places together. Eat together. I drive you around. Buy you things.”
Yoshino stared at him, “That’s not the same.”
“It’s similar.”
“The difference is the physical stuff?”
Shouma said nothing.
Yoshino shifted closer to the edge of the bed.
“Okay. So what is it?”
He finally turned, “We’re already here together now. What’s the difference?”
Shouma looked at her.
Really looked at her.
And immediately regretted it.
Her cheeks were flushed deep pink from the alcohol, loose strands of maroon hair framing her face. Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion and drink, but still unmistakably Yoshino’s. The red lace Tsubaki had chosen stood out against her skin and followed the soft curves of her body.
There was something unintentionally intimate about her like this.
That was precisely the problem.
Shouma’s expression became concerned, “Yoshino, you’re drunk.”
“And?” She held his gaze, “I’m still me.”
“You are.”
“Then can you let me lie here with you like this?”
Shouma didn’t answer.
“I know you won’t touch me.”
Those words somehow made it worse.
Yoshino’s voice softened, “But I want your gaze to make me feel like a desirable woman.”
Shouma’s eyes widened again, “Yoshino, no.”
She frowned.
Not angry.
Almost embarrassed, “Okay.”
She sank farther into the pillow, “Then can you get on the bed and caress my hair while I fall asleep?”
Shouma watched her.
“Just tell me a story.”
Her eyes were already beginning to close, “Any story.”
Shouma stood.
He didn’t tell her a story.
He sat beside her on top of the covers and gently moved the hair away from her face.
Then he began humming. It was quiet.
Yoshino’s eyes closed and after a minute, she shifted closer.
Then closer again.
Before Shouma realized what she was doing, Yoshino had tucked herself against him, her head settling beneath his chin.
His entire body stiffened.
Yoshino sighed contentedly.
Shouma slowly put an arm around her. Carefully and almost cautiously.
She trusted him.
That thought remained firmly in the front of his mind.
If everything else weren’t there—Renji, the family, the years between them, his responsibilities, Yoshino’s trust, and the alcohol currently making her fearless—maybe he would ask her.
Not take, but actually ask her. He wanted to know what she’d say if he asked whether he could kiss her.
But not tonight. Especially not tonight.
Doing anything now would make him no better than the kind of man he’d spent months hating in Tokyo.
Kirishima.
Motherfucker.
His arm tightened without him realizing it.
Yoshino winced.
“Ow… Shou…ma.”
Shouma immediately loosened his hold, “Sorry.”
Her eyes barely opened, “Be nice… to me.”
His expression softened, “I’ll always be nice to you.” He waited until her breathing settled again.
Then Shouma carefully moved Yoshino away from him.
She made a quiet sound of protest but didn’t wake.
He arranged the pillows around her, pulled the sheet over her and made sure the abandoned seltzer was nowhere near the bed.
For a moment, he stood beside her.
“Goodnight, Yoshino.”
She didn’t answer.
Shouma turned off the light.
I love you.
The thought came much more easily when she couldn’t hear it.
I’m glad you’re back.
Before sleeping, Shouma made a full round of the apartment.
Front door. Locked.
Garage. Locked.
Windows. Locked.
Terrace door upstairs. Locked.
He checked everything twice.
Then he brushed his teeth, changed into his boxers and went into the smaller bedroom across the hall from Yoshino.
He lay on his back in the dark.
Moonlight entered through the window, falling pale across his chest and arms. His black hair looked almost white where the light caught it.
Shouma folded his arms behind his head.
He should’ve been exhausted, but he wasn’t.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Yoshino.
Her hand reaching toward his face in the truck before messing up his hair instead.
Her fingers moving through it later.
“I’d treat you right.”
Shouma closed his eyes. His imagination went somewhere he hadn’t allowed it to go while she was awake. Yoshino beside him. Sober. Looking at him the way she had tonight, except fully aware of what she was saying. Her arms around him. His hand against her cheek.
And then, slowly, Yoshino leaning closer until he could kiss her.
Shouma opened his eyes again. The room was silent.
He stared at the ceiling.
“I don’t know when,” he whispered.
He swallowed, “But I want to.”
His eyes slowly closed again, “You have no idea, Yoshino.”
Across the hall, she slept peacefully in his bed, and after a few minutes Shouma’s eyes drifted into sleep.
Where you can yearn. 