"Let go of the—"
She pushed.
The door swung inward hard.
He stepped back fast but it caught his shoulder and spun him sideways. He hit the entryway wall. The talisman above him rattled.
She stepped inside.
The door swung shut behind he.
He straightened up.
Got his feet under him, weight low, both hands raised.
Spiritual energy ran from his palms to his shoulders, brighter than it usually did.
She stood at the entrance, one step in.
She hadn't moved further.
She watched him find his footing. Her expression didn't change. Her eyes didn't move off him.
Black crop top. Short jacket hanging open. The choker at her throat.
Silver hair loose around her face.
She was smiling — wide, the pointed teeth showing at the corners. Her eyes had the smile's shape but none of its warmth. Fixed on him without wavering.
"Are you trying to make me jealous?" She took one step forward.
He didn't step back. His hands stayed up. "No."
"It looked like you were very into her." Another step.
Her energy reached him before she did — heavy, dense, pushing into his chest until his next breath took effort.
"Talking with her. Walking with her." The head tilted. "Blushing."
"I wasn't—"
"If you were trying to make me jealous," she said, "you have done it successfully, Kai~~~."
He blinked.
She vanished.
The air where she had been standing was empty. No sound. No movement.
He blinked again.
Then both his wrists were caught.
She had appeared directly in front of him, hands locked around his wrists, and drove him back into the wall.
The talisman rattled again above his head.
His shoulders hit the wall.
Her grip didn't give.
She leaned her height into it, face coming down close to his.
Her eyes up close were worse than through the door — wide, unblinking, the red too bright, something moving behind them that had no name.
His spiritual energy spiked in his palms.
It didn't matter.
Her grip didn't move.
It pinched.
"See." Her voice dropped to almost nothing, right at his ear. "Now I am jealous. You made me, Kai~~~."
Her face came closer.
"Now I want to— "
He drove his forehead into hers.
The impact was solid.
Her head snapped back.
She made a sound — short, surprised, something closer to disbelief than pain.
Her grip broke.
He shoved with both palms, spiritual energy cracking hard against her sternum.
She took a step back.
He grabbed her shoulder, turned her toward the door, and shoved again.
She went back through the entryway.
He reached past her, pulled the door open, and pushed her out through it.
He slammed it shut.
Threw the bolt.
He put his back against the door.
Breathing.
The house was quiet.
Just the hum of the refrigerator and his own breath slowing down.
He stood there for a moment, letting the adrenaline work itself out.
His palms were still faintly lit. He looked at them. Let the glow fade.
The ramen bag was on the floor where he had dropped it.
He picked it up and shook it gently.
The container had tipped but the plastic had held.
Still mostly intact.
He sighed.
Carried it to the kitchen. Set it down.
He ran the bath.
Stood in the kitchen listening to the water fill, staring at nothing in particular.
Then he went in.
The water was hot.
He lowered himself in slowly, sat with his knees up and his head back and stared at the ceiling.
The bathroom window was frosted glass.
She couldn't see in.
But, he could see her outline from inside if she was close enough.
Two minutes later, he heard a knock.
Knock
Knock.
"I am sorry, Kai~~~."
He said nothing.
Knock.
Knock.
"I am sorry, Kai~~~."
"I forgive you," he said. "Stop knocking. Be quiet."
The knocking stopped.
He looked at the frosted glass. The light on the other side shifted slightly.
Her outline settled against the wall just outside, still and patient, the shape of her visible through the frost. He looked at it for a moment.
Then he put his head back and closed his eyes.
He stayed until the water cooled.
The shape didn't move the whole time.
.
He ate at the kotatsu with the TV on. A variety show. Two comedians arguing about what came first, egg or a hen. The ramen was lukewarm but edible.
Knock knock.
He kept eating.
"You're annoying," he said.
"I know." A pause.
"I am sorry for being annoying. I don't always know why I snap like that. I just—"
Another pause.
"I am sorry. Can you open the curtain? I am feeling lonely. I just want to talk. You are being too mean to me."
"Can you blame me?"
Silence.
It stretched out.
Long enough that the comedian on TV changed topics.
Long enough that he finished the ramen and set the container aside and poured himself a glass of water.
He drank half of it.
The silence continued.
"I will try to control myself." Her voice had lost its sweetness.
It came out flat and tired, stripped of the usual warmth, and somehow that was harder to listen to than either the sweet voice or the loud one.
"It is just— watching you with that girl. You talked with her more today than you have talked with me all week. And then that face." A pause.
"Your ears. They were red. Pink. There is a smile when you are thinking about her, even at the takeout place. I could see it. You were watching those couples outside the window and thinking about you and her, right? You want to go out with her, right? Then have sex. Then get married. Then children. Then— AAAAAARGH!"
The last word came out loud and sudden.
He kept his eyes on the TV.
Silence.
Then, soft again.
"Kai~~~."
He waited.
"I love you." A beat. "You know that. Right?"
He looked at his empty ramen container for a moment.
"Yes," he said quietly.
He got up and opened the curtain.
She was right there on the other side of the glass, her back against the wall, knees pulled up.
Her silver hair fell loose around her face.
Her eyes were red and slightly wet, the corners catching the light from inside the house.
She looked up at him when the curtain opened.
He looked at her for a moment.
Then he sat back down at the kotatsu and left the curtain open.
Neither of them said anything.
The variety show continued.
One of the comedians lost the argument badly and looked genuinely upset about it.
Shizuka watched Kaito through the glass.
He let her.