Chigiri Dreams

SFW

• 04.00 am Breakfast

• Wrong Pill

• Laundry Disaster

• Intensive Week

• The Great Race [Part 1] - [Part 2]

• Winter Tea

• Drunken Revelry

• Sweet Victory

• The Warm Hand of Love

• Warm Bed

• Creepy Night

• Red Suits You So Well

• Heartache

• Through The Language of Dance

• Last Breath [Ashtma Reader!]

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

• Desert Rose [Part 1] - [Part 2] - [Part 3]

NSFW

• Sole Satisfaction

Word Count: 2484

Warning: None

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DESERT ROSE || Part 3

As the morning sun bathed the mansion’s courtyard in golden yellow light, Latifa was getting ready in her room for football. Instead of a skirt, she wore loose pants, her hair tied back in a relaxed ponytail. As she bent down to tighten her sneakers’ laces, you watched her. Latifa’s casual demeanor combined with the excitement on her face made you smile.

In the corner of the room stood Zoraide, arms crossed, observing the two of you.

“There’s a match with the neighborhood girls today,” Latifa said as she stood up.

Curious, you asked,

“Does uncle-in-law Ali really allow you to play football?”

Latifa smiled and nodded.

“He only lets us play if it’s just girls. If boys join… then all hell breaks loose.”

Zoraide sighed.

“What can we do? This is Morocco, dear. The rules are like that.”

Latifa and Zoraide stepped out cheerfully. You were about to follow when Dr. Albieri and Hyoma entered through the mansion’s front door.

Before heading to meet Ali, Albieri turned to Hyoma.

“Hyoma, remember: this is not Japan. Privacy is very important here, especially regarding women’s spaces. You can walk around the courtyard a bit, but be careful. Wait for me.”

Hyoma nodded.

“Okay. I’ll just look around a little.”

As Albieri went inside, Hyoma was left alone in the stone-paved courtyard, walking curiously and examining the intricate details of the traditional architecture.

Suddenly, a voice called down from above:

“Zoraide! Wait!”

Footsteps echoed in the courtyard. Turning around the corner, you hurried but didn’t notice who you were about to bump into—Hyoma.

For a moment, both of you lost balance, but with Hyoma’s quick reflexes, he caught your waist and steadied you. Silence fell in the middle of the courtyard.

Your eyes locked.

It was like an echo of that moment last night behind the curtain when your gazes met. Your heart raced again.

Hyoma’s hands were still on your waist, but neither of you could speak.

There was no unfamiliarity in his eyes… there was something familiar.

You wanted to thank him with your eyes, but no words came out.

Slowly, Hyoma withdrew his hands, as if carefully holding something fragile.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, not even giving you time to be surprised by his Japanese accent.

You just nodded. Time seemed to freeze again.

Time still flowed slowly in the courtyard. Hyoma’s hands had left your waist, but his gaze remained fixed on you. In his eyes was a curiosity, admiration, and a pull you couldn’t explain. That look made your insides tremble.

Hyoma parted his lips and asked directly but softly,

“What’s your name?”

You hesitated for a moment. Though you felt your heart beating strongly, no words came from your lips. You didn’t look away but remained silent.

Hyoma tried again, this time with more genuine curiosity:

“Do you speak Japanese?”

For the first time, you smiled lightly. Warmth settled in your eyes. Then you answered briefly but cleverly—in Japanese:

“Sakkaa o shini ikimasu.”

(I’m going to play football.)

Hyoma’s eyes widened in surprise. He smiled. But you had already turned around. You quickly opened the heavy mansion door and stepped outside. Hyoma quickened his steps behind you, unable to take his eyes off you.

As you passed through dusty, narrow streets, you walked ahead while he followed behind. Latifa and the other girls had already gathered in the open, dirt-like football field. Zoraide stood in the shade, watching over them. You stayed a few steps behind, watching.

While Hyoma was watching you from afar, you suddenly turned your head slightly toward him. Your eyes met again.

Without saying a word, you gave a faint smile and then walked toward the nearby ruined building outside the field.

Hyoma understood and followed you.

Jumping over stones between the broken walls, you glanced back at him with a smile and a soft, cheerful, inviting chuckle.

Your steps quickened. Hyoma watched and then started running to catch up. A silent chase began between you. You entered the ruin and then disappeared behind a wall.

Hyoma stopped, thinking he had lost you.

But at the next corner… there you were.

You both were breathless. But at the end of that chase, something began that needed no words:

A bond. A secret.

And perhaps… the first breath of a love just beginning.

In the ruin, an isolated part of the mansion no one saw, walls mossy with time, corners cracked but silence reigning, you walked close but still kept some unknown distance between you.

Finally, Hyoma stopped and faced you. His eyes held that familiar curiosity and softness.

“What’s your name?” he asked again, his voice low but warm.

This time you didn’t look away.

“My name is Y/N,” you said with a gentle smile. Perhaps this was the first time you truly felt comfortable around this man.

Hyoma introduced himself as well.

“I’m Hyoma. I came from Japan to here. I’m a footballer.”

He hesitated a bit but continued proudly,

“I’ve been playing since I was a child. Now they’re thinking seriously about transfers. But… being here has been good for me.”

His talk of football made you smile.

“So you really are a footballer… I wish I could watch you train,” you thought, but your gaze said it all.

Hyoma slowly extended his hand toward yours. His fingertips gently touched your palm. But your body instinctively pulled back.

“You held my hand,” you said seriously.

“That’s haram.”

Hyoma paused, his eyes slightly widened in surprise.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just… didn’t know. I only wanted to be close to you.”

“Only my husband can touch me,” you added.

Your voice held no anger or accusation—only a certainty born of tradition.

Then you bowed your head slightly.

“I grew up in Japan. I lived with my mother. After she died… they sent me here to live with Uncle Ali.”

You lifted your wrist slightly to show the gold bracelet on your arm.

“This… is my mother’s bracelet. She gave it to me before she passed.”

Hyoma quietly bowed his head, listening. He had never been this close to your life before.

But time was running out.

“I have to go,” you said. “Before it gets too late.”

Hyoma nodded. He didn’t want you to leave but respected your decision.

“I… I’m staying at the Al Jazeera Hotel. If you ever want to see me…”

He left the sentence hanging. Maybe it wouldn’t continue. But he left a hope.

You turned and walked away quickly. Your heart felt like it might burst as you made your way from the ruin’s stone floor to the path leading back to the mansion.

Zoraide met you at the beginning of the road, worry clearly written on her face.

“Where were you, Y/N? What did I tell you! If you get lost here, we won’t find you. Maybe some desert nomad will come, kidnap you, and sell a beautiful girl like you in the desert. We’ll never find a trace of you again!”

Her words scared you, but a small spark flickered in your mind.

You remembered the football match. Among the watchers, a woman wearing a veil and hiding her face had caught your attention. You never found out who she was.

Looking back over your shoulder, that image came back to you again.

If you also wore the chador and veil… no one would recognize you.

You could meet Hyoma more freely.

When you returned to the mansion, your decision was made.

You bowed your head in front of Uncle Ali and said with a polite but firm tone:

“Uncle… I want to wear the veil too. Like your wives. So no one will recognize me when I go outside.”

Ali looked at you for a moment, then nodded approvingly.

“Whenever you want to cover yourself, you’ll know. But if this decision protects you, it’s appropriate.”

When Zoraide asked what had happened to you, you bowed slightly.

“I’m not ready to marry. If no one sees my face… they won’t come to ask for me.”

Zoraide said nothing but her eyes held both compassion and a secret admiration.

You were no longer just your mother’s daughter—you were a young woman shaping her own destiny. And for the first time… you had made your own decision.

For the first time, you stepped outside wearing your black chador and veil. Your heart raced with every step. You took one of the women from the house with you; she was your protector, your eyes and ears in these unfamiliar streets. An important package from Japan was coming for you, and you had to send it at the post office.

On your way back from the post office, you reached the hotel where Hyoma was staying. You saw him in the corridors; his tall figure and calm walk stood out immediately. You silently followed behind, whispering, “You go ahead. I’ll come behind. If anyone sees you with me and tells my uncle, it will be the end of me.”

Hyoma nodded slightly, understanding how heavy the rules were. He walked ahead and went up to the hotel terrace. You stayed a step behind and at the terrace door, you lifted your veil. No one saw your face, and you breathed freely.

There, on the terrace, you stood face to face. The light breeze gently lifted your hair, and the golden hues of the sunset illuminated your faces.

You thought you would speak first, but Hyoma started:

“My football life was tough… I had a major injury in middle school, tore my cruciate ligaments in my knee. I had surgery. Doctors said if I got injured again, it would be hard to continue. But… now I feel free. Like my chains are broken.”

You listened carefully. You saw the determination and passion in his eyes.

“My father… he has other plans. He wants me to work in the family business instead of football. But I… have given my heart to football.”

Silence fell. Then Hyoma slowly stepped forward.

“I want to kiss you,” he said.

His voice trembled but was sincere and brave.

You felt his hand reaching for your face. Your heart raced; your eyes closed. At that moment, a voice inside whispered:

“Haram…”

His hand slowly withdrew.

“You don’t come to me,” Hyoma said.

“That’s… haram,” you whispered, but your eyes held the light of wanting him.

“You must go,” you said gently.

Hyoma looked deep into your eyes.

“So… when can I see you again?” he asked.

You thought for a moment, then whispered:

“I will call you.”

Hyoma nodded lightly and slowly walked down from the terrace, blending into the hotel corridors.

You stood alone on the terrace, touched by the light wind, left only with the rhythm of your racing heart.

When you returned home, you slowly removed your veil and placed it on the edge of your bed. You remembered the room where Hyoma first saw you—the excitement and mystery of that moment, the warmth in your heart… An urge came over you, and you began to dance in the middle of the room. Slowly, your body moved in rhythm, and the image of your pink belly dance costume appeared vividly in your mind’s eye.

At that moment, Zoraide quietly approached. From her careful gaze and the bond between you, she sensed something had changed. “Are you seeing him?” she asked seriously but kindly. You tried to evade with excuses, smiling faintly to change the subject.

But Zoraide didn’t hold back. Looking into your eyes, she said with grave seriousness,

“If you do anything that would bring shame on this family’s honor, they have the right to kill you. Is it worth risking for that Japanese boy? Be smart, Y/N.”

Her words echoed in your ears, mixing fear and determination inside you. Yet, in your heart, Hyoma’s presence was a warm light of hope.

Hyoma was eating with his father and Dr. Albieri at the hotel restaurant. Since arriving in Morocco, his father had noticed Hyoma drifting away and suspected something. “Let’s speak frankly,” he said firmly. “Even though you’re here, your mind is elsewhere. What’s going on?”

Hyoma tried to brush it off with brief answers: “Nothing, just tired.”

His father wouldn’t settle. “I want you to work with me in the family business. It’s a better future for you.”

Hyoma opposed his father’s plans: “I want to be a footballer. Business isn’t for me.”

Tension rose; words grew harsh. Dr. Albieri intervened:

“Mr. Chigiri, Hyoma’s talent and passion shouldn’t be ignored. Football is his life.”

But the father was stubborn:

“Discipline is important in every work. Football is uncertain.”

Hyoma lost patience, stood up, and said, “Let’s end this conversation here,” then left the table and went to his room.

His father was angry. Albieri immediately went to calm him:

“Be patient. Hyoma is finding his own way. If you pressure him, you’ll break him.”

The father sighed deeply, and the atmosphere calmed somewhat. Yet the tension still lingered.

That evening, your thoughts turned to calling Hyoma. Quietly, you walked to the fixed phone in the corner of your room. Your heart raced with excitement as you prepared what to say once he answered. Your fingers trembled lightly as you searched the phonebook. Finally, you found the number and dialed, bringing the receiver to your ear.

When Hyoma answered, “Hello?” his voice sounded surprised but also filled with joy. Because at that moment, he was thinking of you.

“Hyoma,” you said, “Can you hear my voice?”

“Y/N? Is that really you?” he asked, his voice trembling with excitement.

“Yes, it’s me,” you said with a soft smile. “Thank you for today. I have a surprise for you tomorrow. But I can’t talk long now—if someone hears, it would be a problem.”

Hyoma grew a little worried. “What do you mean? Is there a problem?”

“Just… let’s meet at the ruin at the same time tomorrow. It’ll be easier there. I’ll tell you everything.”

A silence followed. The only sound between you was the faint click of the phone. Then Hyoma said gently,

“Okay, I’ll be there. I can’t wait.”

“I can’t either,” you replied and hung up.

As you put down the phone, your heart pounded rapidly. This secret connection with Hyoma gave you strength amid all the hardships. The surprise you planned for tomorrow had to be meaningful and special for him. You felt a little braver and more hopeful.

⸻

Click here for Part 1 and Part 2

Word Count: 2023

Warning: None

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DESERT ROSE || Part 2

Evening had fallen. In the harem quarters of the mansion, in a spacious room with carved curtains, you were sitting on cushions spread over the carpets. Latifa had left her hair down, draped a silk shawl over her shoulders, and was giggling as she told a story, holding a cup of mint tea in her hand. Zoraide was rummaging through a small chest in the corner, looking for an old hairpin.

You, meanwhile, had opened the door of a tall wardrobe made of walnut wood, tucked away in the corner of the room. Inside, embroidered dresses, sheer shawls, laced undergarments, and brightly colored garments hung neatly in a row. You ran your fingers over the fabric… and then noticed something striking.

A bright pink costume, adorned with golden beads and made of fine tulle, revealing the midriff. The shawl part was equally dazzling and ornate. You gently pulled the outfit out and showed it to Latifa.

“What’s this?” you asked, surprised.

Latifa stood up laughing, set her tea down, and walked toward you.

“That… I’m going to wear that on my wedding night. I’ll dance for my husband. A Moroccan woman’s first night alone with her husband is very special.”

Zoraide looked you up and down, then wrinkled her nose with a chuckle.

“Your mother… may God rest her soul… I’ve never seen anyone dance like that woman. She used to belly dance with her heart.”

Her voice softened.

“You’re like her, aren’t you? She taught you.”

You smiled, a flutter stirred inside you. You thought of your mother. In that little Japanese home, watching Egyptian dancers on TV, mimicking the movements together.

“Yes,” you said. “She taught me.”

Latifa’s eyes suddenly lit up.

“Then show us! Please!”

she begged, clasping her hands excitedly.

At first, you hesitated. But the room was filled with only women. They were all older than you or cousins. Latifa had already let her hair down. Zoraide called out, and someone inside started the music player. The door opened, and more women poured in. Some crouched on the floor, others settled on the cushions by the windows.

Holding the belly dance costume in your hands, amid cheerful laughter, you slipped into the changing area. You put on the costume, let your hair down. You grabbed the shawl and swirled it like a wave of mist. Looking in the mirror, you felt closer to your mother than ever before.

Then you parted the curtains… and stepped into the room.

Amid the applause of the women, you bowed slightly. The music began. As the chime-like instruments played, your body began to sway gently. You twirled the shawl like a snake, swayed your hips left and right. Your belly, hips, and hands moved in perfect harmony.

As the rhythm picked up, so did you. Your arms floated through the air, your head tossed, and your feet barely touched the ground. For a moment, you could hear your own heartbeat beneath the cheers of the women. It was as if your mother was watching you.

⸻

The main gate of the mansion creaked open with the sound of a heavy iron knocker. As they stepped into the wide courtyard, Hyoma saw a place more exotic than anything he’d ever encountered. Unlike the minimalist order of Japan, everything here was ornate and dazzling. Walls covered with colorful ceramic tiles, courtyards draped with vines, archways winding into one another… it felt like a tale from a bygone century.

Dr. Albieri led the way with his usual confidence.

“Ali and I go way back,” he had said earlier in the taxi. “He’ll be glad to see me.”

Ali indeed stepped into the grand hall with a warm smile. Dressed in white robes, he carried an air of respect. He hugged Dr. Albieri tightly.

“Ah, time has been kind to you!” said Ali.

“And this, is he your son?”

“No, Hyoma is a football star — a striker,” Albieri replied. “But he’s also a bit of a free spirit. I brought him here hoping the Moroccan air might do him good.”

The three sat on the grand divan. Silver trays of mint tea were brought in. They chatted in a mix of Arabic, Italian, and occasionally English. Ali’s tone was serious, but Hyoma found himself growing increasingly bored. He wanted to show himself, to play — not to sit through these heavy conversations.

Eventually, he stood up.

“May I look around a little?” he asked politely. Albieri nodded.

Hyoma wandered slowly through the mansion’s hallways. Every corner was a discovery: ornate mirrors, small lounges with divans, dim cool corridors… moonlight filtered through colored glass, casting patterned shadows on the walls.

Then, he heard music. At first, he thought it was the wind. But it became clearer. Rhythmic, stirring, like a call from another world.

His curiosity pulled him forward.

He didn’t even realize he had entered the women’s quarters of the mansion. As he neared the room from which the sound came, he saw a curtain-covered door. He hesitated. Then… a flicker of movement behind the curtain caught his eye.

He slowly reached out and gently pulled back a corner of the curtain.

And he saw you.

The room was full of women. They were laughing, clapping, cheering joyfully. But Hyoma’s eyes fixed on one person alone. In the center of the room, a young woman danced in a pink beaded, gold-embroidered costume. Her long loose hair whipped around her. The sway of her waist, the grace of her arms, the freedom in her eyes… time seemed to stop for her.

Hyoma held his breath.

He didn’t know you.

But he couldn’t look away.

Sweat dampened his back. His heart pounded in his chest like a bird. His feet felt rooted to the ground. He couldn’t go back — or move forward.

He could have mistaken this for a dream… but it wasn’t.

This was love at first sight.

And fate had winked at him through the veil.

He slowly crept closer behind the curtain. Hyoma stood there, silently watching you — dancing gracefully to the rhythm with your pink shawl. Every move told a story; the light shimmered on your skin, enchanting the room.

Then, at the most rhythmic moment of your dance, you veiled your face with the shawl and swayed to the music.

And in that moment… your eyes locked with Hyoma’s. He stood behind the curtain, watching you like a mirage, not blinking once. You felt your heart pound with a new intensity.

It was that moment — the one where words fail, and only gazes speak. Hyoma stood frozen, his eyes locked with yours. Time seemed suspended; only the two of you existed, the rest of the world had faded away.

But the other women in the room, realizing what had happened, began to scream in panic. The moment they saw the eye contact, they bolted through the other door in fear and alarm.

You remained where you were, still holding onto his gaze. You had fallen in love at first sight; no words, only that silent and profound connection spoke between you.

Hearing the women’s panicked cries, Dr. Albieri immediately realized what had happened. He thought Hyoma had unintentionally caused a major disruption. He rushed to the room, gently but firmly took Hyoma’s arm, and led him out.

As they walked through the mansion’s corridors, his voice turned stern: “Hyoma, the rules here in Morocco are very different. You must understand that. This isn’t Japan. Foreign men don’t have the luxury of seeing unveiled women. Entering women’s private spaces, especially violating their privacy, is strictly forbidden. Respect is everything here. What you did is a serious mistake.”

Hyoma slightly nodded, defending himself: “But I was only watching. That girl dancing… she was truly beautiful. I didn’t see anyone else. I only saw her.”

Albieri narrowed his eyes and studied him. “I understand your intention, but intention is not always enough. Here, traditions are strict, and breaking them can put you — or those who care about you — in serious trouble. Do you understand?”

Hyoma took a deep breath and nodded: “I understand. It won’t happen again.”

Albieri softened slightly and smiled, “It shouldn’t. Now calm down and show some respect. In this new life, the keys to success are respect and patience.”

That night, under the warm, star-filled Moroccan sky, the city had fallen silent. The stone walls of the mansion were wrapped in the night’s coolness as Hyoma stepped out onto his hotel room balcony. He couldn’t stop thinking about the girl who danced — about you. That moment when you veiled your face and your eyes met his — it had shaken him.

“An impossible girl…” he whispered. But deep down, his heart had a much simpler answer: “I couldn’t look away.”

He was surprised by this feeling. It had been a long time since he had thought of anyone like this. Sports, goals, discipline, recovery from his knee injury… there was no room for emotions in his life. But now, the gaze of a girl whose name he didn’t even know had overtaken everything.

He sighed. Before stepping back inside, he looked once more at the sky.

“Will I see you again?”

At the same time, in the harem quarters of the mansion, you lay on your bed. The wind from the window gently stirred the edge of the pink shawl you had danced with. Your heart still beat a little fast. That moment came back to you — a pair of eyes peeking through the curtain… watching you.

Should you be afraid? Perhaps. But a part of you felt that those eyes held more admiration than danger. You had felt safe — inexplicably so.

“Who was he?” you whispered into the dark.

And that night, in two distant corners of Morocco, a girl and a boy were thinking of each other at the same time.

As the moonlight softly lit the room, you lay on your back staring at the ceiling. But what your mind saw was that curtain being drawn and those eyes watching you. Your heart still beat faster than usual, and your thoughts couldn’t escape him. Who was he? He was clearly Japanese, but what was he doing here? There was not strangeness in those eyes… but something strangely familiar.

The door opened without a knock, and Latifa slipped inside. Her hair was loose, and she wore a simple nightgown. She held a plate of dates.

“Still awake?” she asked with a small smile. Then, seeing your dazed look, she frowned. “Still thinking… What happened? Why so quiet?”

You turned your head slightly. Your voice was soft.

“That man who came to the mansion today… the foreign one. The Japanese.”

Latifa smiled knowingly and placed the plate on the nightstand, then sat beside you.

“So you’re asking about him… I noticed too. He was tall, quiet, but his eyes said everything.”

You just looked at her. Latifa glanced at you sideways.

“Don’t tell me… you liked him?”

You turned your head quickly.

“What? No… it’s just… weird. He peeked through the curtain right as I was dancing…”

Latifa couldn’t hold back her laughter.

“I saw the look in his eyes. It wasn’t like a man seeing a girl for the first time. It was like he had finally found someone he’d been looking for.”

You were silent. You had felt that too.

Latifa smirked teasingly.

“I’m the one getting married, but looks like you’ll fall in love first.”

“Shut up,” you said, smiling and trying to hide your embarrassment.

But Latifa didn’t stop laughing. As she stood up, she shook her head.

“Go to sleep, Y/N. You’ll probably see your Japanese prince in your dreams tonight.”

As the door closed, you were still lying there, thinking about what had happened that night. Latifa had joked… but the feeling inside you didn’t feel like a joke at all.

⸻

It will be continued in Part 3

Word Count: 2795

Warning: None

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DESERT ROSE || Part 1

You came to Japan from Morocco with your mother when you were a child. You’ve been living in Japan for ten years now, growing up in a secluded neighborhood. Your neighbors spoke Japanese, the world around you moved differently, but inside your home, you were raised by the traditions your mother taught you.

Your mother constantly reminded you of how a Muslim woman should behave. When your friends wore mini skirts, you had to wear clothes that reached your knees. Going to a nightclub? Never. A boyfriend? Not even a topic of discussion. Even which street you were allowed to walk down was dictated. “One day we’ll return to Morocco,” she’d always say. “Things are different there. What you do doesn’t just represent you, it represents your entire family.”

Still, sometimes you couldn’t resist your curiosity. You’d go out with your friends, wander the streets, join in their laughter, and for a fleeting moment, forget those strict rules.

That day was one of those times.

When you returned home in the evening, the door was ajar. One of the neighbors met you with worry in their eyes. “Your mother… she suddenly collapsed…” they said, and you felt something break inside you. You rushed into the house. In that tiny, dark room, you found your mother lying on the bed. Her breath was faint, but her eyes were still open. She was looking at you one last time.

You knelt beside her. Held her hands. In a trembling voice, she whispered her final wish:

“Y/N… You must go to Morocco. Ali… your uncle, he’s waiting for you. I told him… everything. Take my bracelet… Promise me…”

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling. “No… no, don’t go, mom…” you begged, but it was too late. Her eyes slowly closed as you held her hand. Silence fell over the room.

Everything that followed was done according to tradition. You washed her body yourself—according to custom, a Muslim must do it. When the white shroud was laid over her, you had to accept that she was now just a memory.

After the funeral, you placed on your wrist the bracelet she had left you—a bracelet adorned with pearls and a ring. It wasn’t just a piece of jewelry anymore. It was a legacy you carried.

And within a few weeks, just as your mother had said, you were on your way to Morocco. Your lonely days in Japan were over.

But you had no idea what awaited you.

Your new home… your new family… your new fate…

And of course, someone who would turn your heart upside down…

The plane ride was long and exhausting. After the cool, quiet outskirts of Japan, Morocco’s scorching heat and bustling crowds felt like you’d landed on another planet. As you stepped off the plane, the first thing you noticed was the spicy, dusty scent in the air. Then came the overwhelming crowd, the noise, the rapid chatter—it left you dazed.

At the airport exit, two women caught your attention.

One was a slender, talkative young woman who looked elegant for her age.

The other had a face marked by time, eyes that were stern but warm.

“Y/N!” the young one shouted. She ran up to you and embraced you.

“I’m Latifa. It’s been a long time,” she said with a smile.

Then, the older woman stepped forward and spoke:

“I’m Zoraide. I’m your mother now, too. Welcome to our home.”

They loaded your suitcase into a taxi, and you were on your way. Looking out the window, you realized how these lands felt both foreign and deeply familiar.

“The wedding preparations have already started,” Latifa suddenly said, excitedly.

“Wedding?”

“My wedding!” she giggled.

“What do you mean? I just got here and you’re getting married?”

“Yes! Very soon, actually. And then I’ll move to Japan. Oh, this timing is awful, cousin! You’re arriving as I’m leaving!”

“Who are you marrying?”

Latifa shrugged slightly, tilted her head, and grinned.

“I haven’t even met him yet. But I hope he’s really handsome!”

Before you could say anything else, the taxi stopped. You grabbed your suitcase and started walking behind the car, but the street was crowded. Narrow alleys, identical doors, high walls, and loud, shouting people overwhelmed you. And suddenly, you lost sight of Latifa and Zoraide.

“Latifa?” you called out, but no answer.

“Zoraide?” you quickened your steps.

You passed a group of women speaking Arabic, but they didn’t understand you, and you didn’t understand them. You showed them the paper with the address, but they only responded with confused looks.

Then, as you turned in panic, you bumped into a market stall. Tiny brass ornaments, incense holders, and ceramic bowls crashed to the ground. The vendor yelled angrily:

“Shno had l’mssib hada?!”

As his words rained down on you, you raised your hands in apology and began to speak in Japanese:

“Sumimasen! I’m sorry! I didn’t understand… it wasn’t on purpose…”

The man kept gesturing and scolding you, and you started to panic.

Just then, Latifa and Zoraide emerged from the crowd.

Zoraide quickly began speaking to the man in Arabic, using her hands to explain, pointing at you. The man rolled his eyes and nodded reluctantly, finally going quiet.

You let out a deep breath. Your heart was still pounding in your chest.

Latifa turned to you and asked, “Didn’t you learn Arabic?”

You replied shyly, “Just a little.”

But right at that moment, a new commotion caught your attention.

A group of women were walking down the street with joyful ululations. They waved handkerchiefs and sang cheerful songs. In the middle, a woman carried a decorated tray on her head. On the tray lay a white sheet, but with a distinct bloodstain in the center.

“What’s going on?” you asked, bewildered.

Latifa smiled and shrugged, but the answer came from Zoraide:

“The girl who got married last night… turns out she was a virgin. They’re celebrating it. See the blood on the sheet? They walk around the streets so everyone knows. Her family is very proud now.”

Your eyes were fixed on the sheet. Your voice trembled a little as you asked:

“What if… the girl isn’t a virgin?”

Zoraide’s eyes turned serious.

“Then she’s either sent back. Or… worse. If a family’s honor is stained, some won’t forgive. Especially in this neighborhood…”

A strange knot twisted in your stomach.

You swallowed hard.

You wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out.

You had grown up on the quiet streets of Japan.

But this place was a whole other world.

And now, you were right in the middle of it.

As you stepped through the iron gate of the house, the golden rays of the sun filtered into the inner courtyard through the tall stone walls. Towering palm trees cast long shadows on the cool stone floor. This place felt like it belonged to another time… as if time itself moved more slowly, more deliberately here.

Zoraide turned to you with a short but firm glance and gave a faint smile.

“You can’t appear before Master Ali like this. Come, you need to change.”

She led you to a small room on the upper floor. From the wardrobe, she took out a simple yet elegant, long-sleeved light blue dress. Beside it, she placed a thin white headscarf.

“Wear this dress when you sit with him. And don’t forget to cover your head. He is your uncle-in-law, but now he’s the head of your male kin. A woman must not show her hair in the presence of men. You need to learn that.”

A little nervous and curious, you dressed. You carefully wrapped the scarf over your head. When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you saw a face that was hard to recognize. Your eyes were the same… but something in your gaze had changed.

Zoraide accompanied you to the spacious living room. The ceiling was high, and the walls bore modest engravings. Soft handwoven rugs cushioned your steps on the floor.

An older man sat on a low cushioned bench in the room. He had a thick, graying beard, a visible prayer mark on his forehead, and a stern but dignified gaze.

That was your uncle-in-law, Ali.

Zoraide gave a slight bow.

“Master, this is your brother’s granddaughter. She is in your care now.”

Ali bowed his head slightly and placed a hand on his chest as he greeted you.

“As-salamu alaykum wa rahmatullah.”

You hesitated slightly, but responded sincerely:

“Wa alaykum as-salam.”

He motioned for you to sit. You settled on a cushioned bench nearby, sitting stiffly with your hands clasped on your knees.

Ali remained silent for a moment, eyes scanning you carefully. Then he spoke:

“When your mother wrote to me… she said she wanted her daughter to come to Morocco. Her dying wish was that I take you under my protection. We do not take such trust lightly.”

After a short pause, his voice grew more stern.

“But you must understand, my daughter… You were raised in Japan. Life is different there. But here, we live by the order Allah has set. A woman must cover herself. A man should not see her hair or skin. A woman must speak modestly, pray, guard her tongue. We do not live as the West does.”

Your eyes widened. Ali continued:

“There, people defy God. Men and women walk the streets half-naked. Immorality runs deep in them. But we do not follow their path. We follow the path of truth.”

You felt the need to defend yourself, at least a little.

“I… I didn’t forget what my mother taught me. Even though I couldn’t hear the call to prayer in Japan, I tried to keep up with my prayers. I don’t know Arabic, but I memorized the recitations.”

Ali nodded. His gaze softened slightly.

“Why didn’t you learn Arabic? The Qur’an is the word of Allah. Every Muslim must learn it.”

“I want to…” you answered sincerely. “But no one could teach me there. My mother didn’t know enough either. She did the best she could.”

This time, Ali was silent for a long moment. Then he sighed deeply.

“You are in this house now. You will learn what is required here. The first step of devotion to God is obedience. I will guide you on the right path. For now, go to your room and rest. Tomorrow, as we prepare for Latifa’s wedding, you’ll begin to learn your responsibilities too.”

You bowed your head and rose gently.

“Thank you, uncle.”

Ali waved you off with a hand. Quietly, Zoraide escorted you back to your room. You sat on the bed without removing your headscarf. Through the window, you watched the sun’s final light vanish behind the old city walls.

It had only been a few hours since you arrived in Morocco.

And already… the world was a very different place.

⸻

Japan

Football practice had ended. The players on the field were tired but proud. The air was filled with the scent of sweat and grass. Despite his knee, Hyoma had glided across the field as if gravity didn’t apply to him. Even the wind, unable to keep up, trailed behind.

His coach approached him, a bright light in his eyes.

“I thought you were returning to form, but this… this is something else,” he said, catching his breath.

“Your speed today tore through the defense, Hyoma. If you stay in this shape, rejecting league offers would be foolish. Even Europe isn’t a dream anymore.”

Hyoma just nodded, his eyes still locked on the now-empty field. A strange feeling swelled inside him; like a horse freed from its reins, he finally felt truly free.

He thought about the old days—how his knee twisted during that middle school match, the moment he screamed out in pain. That small, frightened version of himself lying on the grass. The silent months after the surgery. The doctor’s cold voice still echoed in his ears:

“If you get injured again… keeping on football will be nearly impossible.”

But now, he was leaving those words behind. Today, he hadn’t just run—he had defeated his past.

When he got home, another surprise awaited him. His father was in the kitchen, on the phone with Dr. Albieri. When the call ended, he turned to Hyoma.

“I’m going to Morocco,” he said. “Albieri is joining a project there. I’ll be with him. And I want you to come too.”

Hyoma was surprised. “Why me?”

“I don’t want to leave you here alone,” his father said. “Besides… this trip might be good for you. Think of it as a fresh start.”

Hyoma didn’t know then just how much that decision would change his life. He knew nothing yet…

As Hyoma tried to digest his father’s words, the door opened. His sister Koyuki walked in. She looked just like him—same sharp gaze, same smile—but there was something more delicate, more graceful about her. She was just as strong as her brother, but her beauty stood out in a different way.

Koyuki smiled as she approached Hyoma.

“We’re going to Morocco again?” she asked, half-complaining.

“What now? A fresh start for me too?”

Hyoma gave a faint smile. “I don’t know, but Dad’s serious this time. Maybe a new page really is about to begin for us.”

Koyuki narrowed her eyes at him. “You know you’re prettier than me, right?” she teased.

“Even though you’re a guy, everyone looks at you. You should be more careful.”

Hyoma blushed slightly, but the determination in his eyes didn’t fade.

“It might be harder without someone like you beside me. But this time, I’ll walk alone.”

Koyuki nodded and lightly patted his shoulder.

“Good. But remember, no matter what happens out there, we’re family. We have to protect each other.”

In that moment, Hyoma once again felt how strong—and how fragile—his bonds truly were.

A week passed quickly.

Suitcases were brought out, items to be boxed were set aside. Hyoma couldn’t quiet the silence inside his head. Going to Morocco brought with it a strange excitement… and a sense of unease he couldn’t explain.

After practice, he would return home and silently watch his father by the suitcases, Koyuki checking the bags, and his mother preparing food in the kitchen.

“You look like you’re about to explode,” Koyuki said, glancing over her shoulder as if reading his face.

“Is something wrong?”

Hyoma looked away. He took a deep breath.

“I… I’m still not sure. We don’t know what we’ll face over there.”

Koyuki stepped closer, placing a hand on her brother’s shoulder.

“You can never be a hundred percent sure. But I’m proud of you, Hyoma. You were so free and fast on the field… it feels like nothing can hold you back now.”

Hyoma lowered his gaze.

“But what if I get injured again? What if this time there’s no coming back?”

“Then you’ll find another path,” Koyuki said, with a steady and gentle voice.

“Your spirit isn’t just that of a footballer. It’s a warrior’s spirit.”

That night, Hyoma sat alone at the edge of his bed, feet planted on the floor. His toes still ached slightly from the morning’s training. But the weight in his chest came from somewhere else.

Ever since his father had announced they’d be heading to Morocco, something had stirred within him. And after the official documents had arrived the previous night, everything was set. Hyoma would be going too. There, he would observe the new league and support his father in his work. But this wouldn’t be a vacation.

His mind still chased the ball. He still longed for the freedom he felt when he ran at full speed. But deep inside… there was another kind of emptiness too.

An interface.

An encounter.

As if his path was about to cross with someone he had never met.

Hyoma closed his eyes. He clenched his fingers.

“I’m not going there just for football… I can feel it.”

The next morning, he quietly pulled his suitcase to the side of his bed.

The journey to Morocco was no longer a week away.

It was now just one day.

⸻

Word Count: 753

Warning: None

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CHAPTER 3 - The Last Breath I Carry in My Chest

(You left... but your breath stayed inside me.)

After you, everything fell silent.

The streets, the training ground, the stands, the wind...

They all met in the same silence.

Hyoma didn't go anywhere for a while.

His phone didn't ring.

He didn't answer messages.

People called, came to his door, but he just kept silent.

Because talking in a world without you was... too much.

When you walked into your house, everything was still as you'd left it.

Your blanket was on the end of the couch.

The cup was still on the table.

And Hyoma... stared at the wall, near the corner where he had last spoken to you.

"Don't cry," he told himself.

But at that moment something snapped inside him.

And she collapsed on the floor and cried for hours.

Not to yourself.

To you...

And everything unfinished.

But then one morning...

He opened his locker and found an envelope.

A plain envelope with his name on it.

She opened it with trembling hands.

It was your handwriting.

Hyoma

If you get this letter, I'm gone. But please don't cry when you read this.

Because I've never seen you cry, nor do I want to. Just watching you was enough for me. And know that whenever you run like the wind throughout your life, I'll be running with you. My lungs weren't enough... but my heart was always enough to love you. My breath wasn't enough... but it was always enough to say your name. Now it's your turn. Don't live for me, live for yourself. I couldn't say goodbye to you... but I'll always stay with you. I've always believed in you, Hyoma.

And I trust you. You'll be the best striker in the world. Goodbye, my eternity.

Y/N

Hyoma pressed the letter to her chest.

She cried for the last time.

And then...He put on his shoes.

He put his jersey on his back. He tied his hair up. He went down to the field. He ran for the first time after you. But the wind was no longer with him. The wind was... you.

And every time he scored, he turned his head to the sky:

"This is for you, Y/N.

You're the last breath I still carry in my chest."

Months had passed.

It was the calmest day of the year.

The sky was clear, the air cool.

The earth was silent.

Hyoma was walking alone, his asthma medication in the pocket of his black coat.

His feet were conscious.

His heart had memorized the path.

When he came to the headstone, he closed his eyes.

He said nothing for a while.

Only the sound of the leaves carried by the wind accompanied him.

Then he knelt down.

He looked at the earth.

He bowed his head.

"I still have your inhaler in my hand..."

He took the metal box of the medicine out of his pocket and slowly held it in his palm.

His eyes welled up.

"I know you don't need it anymore... But I... I guess I'm still not ready to let go."

He touched the tombstone.

Fingertips crossed over the letters.

Y/N

"My eternal wind"

"I became the best striker in the world, Y/N."

He smiled.

Tears welled up in his eyes.

"I really did. I scored three goals in the final. The stands were on their feet... everyone was screaming. But I only thought of you."

"It was like... your voice in the crowd."

"'Come on, Hyoma!'..."

Another silence.

Then he took out a small blue notebook from his pocket.

The edges were frayed.

It was full of your writings.

Lives you'd imagined, little dreams, whispers of a few sentences.

Hyoma left it next to the grave.

He put the medicine on top of it.

He bent down.

He leaned his head against the earth.

"When you couldn't breathe, I forgot to inhale... But now I've become your breath."

"You're in every goal I score, every step, every scream."

"I could never be your lover, but you've always been my love..."

He raised his head.

He turned his eyes to the sky.

"And now...

The last breath I carry inside me, I leave it to you."

The wind caressed her face.

And at that moment, Hyoma finally took a deep breath.

Really, to the fullest...

Like a goodbye that lasts forever...

But it's also like a new beginning.

An eternal love, as short as the life of a breath... but as strong as its memory.

⸻

Word Count: 955

Warnings: None

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CHAPTER 2 - Be My Breath

(The silence that comes with death, the breath that remains with love...)

The window was always open that day.

The wind filled your room, blowing your H/C hair softly.

It was getting harder to breathe by the minute, but you tried not to show it to anyone.

Death was whispering to you that it was coming.

And you... accepted it.

But there was something you had to do before you left: Say goodbye to Hyoma.

Hyoma came early in the morning.

The warm tea she had brought was waiting in the cup you held together so your hands wouldn't shake.

You were wrapped in blankets together, sitting on the windowsill.

Your E/C eyes were tired now. But there was still a light in them.

Being with him was like breathing...

And that's why it was so hard.

Because you knew... this was your last morning.

"Hyoma..."

Your voice was like a whisper.

He rolled his eyes, leaned in close.

"I'm listening."

At that moment, you touched his hand with trembling fingers.

Your gaze met.

You said for the first time what you always avoided:

"I... loved you... from afar, silently, for years..."

Hyoma's eyes widened.

Something inside him snapped.

But you kept going, he couldn't stop you now.

"I wanted you to act like my boyfriend because... for one day, I wanted to live as if you were truly mine."

"And that one day was worth a thousand, Hyoma..."

Hyoma's hands reached for your face.

He kissed you on the forehead, closed your eyes.

"Y/N... please..."

His voice cracked.

But what would he say, what would he say?

That you stayed?

You rested your head on his chest.

Where your heart beats...

To the voice that gave you life...

You said, "I can't breathe anymore..."

And then you raised your eyes and saw him for the last time.

That child who looked at you with tears...

The man you have loved for so many years, the man you are now sending off to eternity...

"Hyoma... I trust you."

You smiled with difficulty.

"Just don't love me, okay? If you do... it will be harder for me to leave."

When that sentence fell from your lips, Hyoma leaned his head against you.

A moment of silence fell between you.

As if time had frozen.

But that silence... didn't last long.

Suddenly...

There was that familiar, deep whistling sound coming from inside your lungs.

What started as a small, insidious hum... began to engulf you in seconds.

Your arms tightened.

Your hands clutched his shirt.

Hyoma lifted his head.

"Y/N?"

Your eyes widened.

Your throat constricted.

There was... no breath.

"Hey... no no no no... look at me! BREATHE!"

You looked around in panic.

He groped for the inhaler, reached into your bag, knocked over the table.

"Where is your inhaler?! Please tell me... PLEASE!"

But you couldn't speak anymore.

You had no breath.

Your tongue was stuck to your palate.

Only a strangled wheeze came out of your mouth.

Hyoma took you in his arms.

She pressed your trembling body to her chest.

"I'll call the ambulance, wait, hold on, please!"

When she picked up the phone, her fingers were shaking.

He couldn't call.

He looked at the screen...

And then you.

And at that moment, the light in your eyes suddenly went out.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

No, this... this wasn't that moment.

It shouldn't have been that moment.

"Y/N... please..."

"Look, I'm here. I'm here, Y/N! Everything's gonna be okay... Everything-"

Suddenly, you stopped breathing completely.

Your shoulders dropped.

Your body went limp.

Your hands slipped from his shirt and fell to the floor.

And you

In Hyoma's arms, with your head tilted to the side.

You weren't there anymore.

Hyoma froze.

His eyes stared into the void.

He realized that the weight in his arms was not a body, but a world crumbling.

"Y/N..."

In a whisper, in tears, she repeated his name.

One

Two...

Three times

But each time the only answer she received was silence carried by the wind.

She rested her head on his forehead as tears rolled down her cheeks.

She hugged his skin that was getting cold.

He never left you.

As if you're about to open your eyes.

But you

You were already gone.

Hyoma pressed your head to his chest, whispering hoarsely as tears silently wet his cheeks:

"You can't go like this... I've never loved you to the fullest..."

For a long time after that night, Hyoma couldn't feel anything.

There was no pain, no tears...

Just an indescribable emptiness.

Your breath, the moment you put your head on his shoulder, that last sentence whispered with a smile...

All of it swirled in his mind like a nightmare.

But the most painful part of this nightmare was that it continued even when he woke up.

He didn't want to invite anyone to the funeral that morning.

A few close friends, doctors, and a silent Hyoma stood by his grave.

He was looking at the earth with moist eyes.

He was silent.

But inside she was screaming.

"I shouldn't have fallen in love with you."

"But everything I experienced with you was real."

He stayed in your room night after night.

Without making your bed.

Without erasing your scent.

Without erasing the messages on your phone...

But then one morning, as the sun filtered through the curtains, he heard a voice inside him.

It was your voice.

"Live."

"Run."

"Score a goal."

And that day he put on his shoes for the first time.

He went down to the field.

He started running.

Like the wind

It's like you're shouting after him, "Come on, Hyoma!"

———

Word Count: 688

Warning: None

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CHAPTER 1: Silent Whispers

"I trust you, you will be the best striker in the world..."

You woke up early in the morning. With another crisis...

Your lungs were like screams trapped inside your body; breathing became more and more of an effort every day.

As you stared at the ceiling, you tightened your lips to suppress the tightness in your throat. The name was on your tongue again.

Hyoma.

Ever since you were a child... You had been dragged after him. When he ran past you like the wind on his first run in the schoolyard, your heart began to pound, not just with admiration, but with something beyond admiration.

And after that moment, it never passed again.

But this love was silent. Like your breath.

If you tried to speak once, your breath wouldn't be enough.

So you always watched. From afar.

When he laughed with his friends, you laughed too.

You averted your eyes when you were sad, so he wouldn't see you cry.

And Hyoma...

He was always kind to you.

But he never realized it.

Until last year, when he had his first major stroke.

He was there when she was hospitalized. Next to her.

"H-hey... Breathe, Y/N... Please..."

When your E/C eyes locked on hers, her hands grabbed yours and she screamed at the doctors. That day you saw fear in his eyes for the first time.

And that fear was engraved in your heart like a deep scar.

After that day, Hyoma started looking at you differently.

More careful, more concerned...

But you didn't want that attention.

Because someone like you couldn't be with someone like him.

He was like a light...

You're a shadow panting in the dark.

Months have passed.

Your illness progressed.

You learned that your life was numbered.

The look on the doctors' faces said more than any words you could utter.

Hyoma couldn't accept this reality.

"What do you mean, a year?"

"What do you mean there's no cure?"

He didn't yell at you.

But he yelled at despair.

He punched the wall.

He walked out of the room.

Then he came back in the middle of the night.

He sat quietly beside you.

And for the first time he watched you for a long time.

"I'll support you..." he said.

"I'll do whatever you want."

And you looked at him.

You took his hand with trembling fingers.

"Will you pretend to be my lover?"

"Not really... just... until I die."

Hyoma froze at first.

But then he nodded.

"Okay," he said.

"I promise you."

From that moment on, everything changed.

Morning messages

Laughing phone conversations...

Little surprises

Photos

Leaning on your shoulder

But a corner of his heart was always beating with fear.

Because Hyoma shouldn't have developed real feelings.

He shouldn't be attached.

He shouldn't love.

But you could see it in his eyes.

He no longer had that "role" in his gaze.

When you took her hand one morning in the park, her trembling fingers told you the truth.

Hyoma was in love.

Your doomed heart...

That day you held Hyoma's hand, the leaves were falling in the park. It was the last days of autumn.

The coolness of the air was getting into your lungs, but this time it was easier to breathe.

Because he was there.

It was Hyoma...

The person you were afraid to even dream of was now leaning his head on your knee, his eyes closed.

"How can you still laugh so beautifully?" he whispered at one point.

You didn't laugh. But your eyes filled.

Because smiling was sometimes a victory.

A small challenge against death.

"Because I have you with me," you said.

"And that's enough for me."

Hyoma lifted his head, picked up the leaves tangled in his L/H H/C hair with the tips of his fingers.

Then he asked quietly:

"One day... would you really want me to be your lover?"

Your eyes widened. Your heart pounded as if it would pierce your chest.

But then you shook your head from side to side.

With difficulty, in a hoarse voice, you answered:

"No... Because then it would be much harder to give you up."

Hyoma said nothing.

But when he smiled, something broke in his eyes.

Like a glass...

Transparent, silent, deep...

From that day on, you hugged each other more and more.

But it was never a real "us".

He always acted like a lover.

You always lived with "if only".

And then one day, the bad news came.

The doctors said you had to stay at home.

Your lungs had almost completely stopped functioning.

And you... you could already feel it.

Hyoma came every day.

He read to you.

She put on your favorite song.

She combed your hair.

When he couldn't sleep, he sat quietly by her bedside.

One evening...

On your last evening, you were sitting together in front of the window.

The sky was a deep dark blue.

The stars were few, but bright.

Hyoma broke his silence:

"Y/N... I have something to tell you."

"I know," you said.

"Don't tell me."

But she had to say it.

Because she couldn't carry it anymore.

"I'm in love with you."

You closed your eyes.

And only one sentence passed through him:

"I wish I had more time..."

Slowly you turned your head to him.

Your hands were cold, but your smile was warm.

"Just hearing that is enough..."

"And I'm counting on you, Hyoma... You will be the best striker in the world."

That was your last word.

You said it looking Hyoma straight in the eyes.

And then you rested your head on his shoulder.

In the night, silently...

You breathed your last breath next to him.

Knowing that the man you love will live forever in your heart.

⸻

{It’s referring to the O Clone (2001) soap opera}

Warning: None

Word Count: 1200

THROUGH THE LANGUAGE OF DANCE

In the evening, you and Hyoma were sitting in front of the TV, reminiscing about old telenovelas. A random show was playing in the background, but your conversation had completely taken over your attention.

“Do you remember O Clone?” you asked, your eyes sparkling with excitement. “Lucas fell in love with Jade while watching her dance behind the curtain. That scene was legendary.”

Hyoma crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow slightly. “Yeah, I remember the dance scene. But I’m not sure if love at first sight is real,” he said with a slight smirk.

You playfully scoffed and lightly nudged his shoulder. “You have no artistic soul, Chigiri.”

Hyoma rolled his eyes, but you could see curiosity flickering in them. “Should we recreate the scene to find out if I do?” he challenged, a teasing glint in his expression.

The idea thrilled you. Excited, you got up and headed to your room. Opening your wardrobe, you searched for the perfect outfit. You chose an elegant costume adorned with shimmering stones, reminiscent of a belly dancer’s attire, and let your hair fall loosely over your shoulders. Looking at yourself one last time in the mirror, you felt anticipation rising within you.

When you returned to the living room, Hyoma had already drawn the curtain into place, setting the scene. His eyes flickered with surprise when he saw you, but he quickly composed himself.

“Alright, Y/N. Let’s bring the Lucas and Jade scene to life,” he said, his voice as confident and playful as ever.

As the music began, the room filled with an Arabian-inspired melody. You started to move, your arms gracefully rising, your body flowing with the rhythm. The shimmering fabric of your outfit sparkled under the dim lights, casting an exotic aura throughout the room.

From behind the curtain, Hyoma watched silently. At first, it had just been a playful game, but his expression had grown serious. His eyes followed every movement, tracking the sway of your hips, the delicate turns of your body.

As the tempo of the music increased, so did the emotion in your dance. When you briefly glanced at the curtain, you saw his silhouette clearly. He knew you could see him, yet he made no effort to hide that he was watching.

With a final spin, your dance ended. The curtain shifted slightly, and Hyoma stepped forward, his gaze locked onto yours.

“Now I understand,” he murmured.

You raised an eyebrow. “Understand what?”

A faint smile touched his lips as he tilted his head. “The whole artistic soul thing.”

Your heart pounded. Maybe O Clone’s scene was even more powerful than you had thought.

As the music slowed, Hyoma fully pulled back the curtain and took a step closer to you. There was something different in his gaze—something deeper. He was still playing along, but at the same time, he was completely serious.

“Watching isn’t enough,” he said, his voice soft yet firm. “To truly understand art, you have to be in it.”

Then, without hesitation, he reached for your waist and gently pulled you closer. His touch wasn’t unfamiliar, but this time, it carried something else. For a moment, you hesitated, your heartbeat quickening. There was something in the way he touched you, something hidden in his gaze—something unspoken, yet undeniable.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, trying to steady the excitement rising inside you.

Hyoma gave a small smirk. “Living the art,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours.

Without breaking rhythm, you continued your movements. To your surprise, he started following you, mirroring your steps. He wasn’t the most graceful dancer, but he was trying to match your rhythm, putting in effort just for you.

When you spun elegantly, he tightened his grip on your waist, guiding you gently through the movement.

This wasn’t just a game anymore. You both knew it.

As his hands guided you, you realized that his feelings were woven into every motion. For someone who usually expressed himself through speed on the field, this dance was his unspoken confession. His body was saying what his words couldn’t.

As the final notes of the music echoed through the room, he pulled you slightly closer, stopping just inches from your face.

Your eyes met.

“Is the scene over?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Hyoma paused for a moment before tilting his head with a small smirk. “Maybe it’s just beginning.”

And at that moment, you both found yourselves too lost in it to decide whether this was an ending or a beginning.

As the last echoes of the melody faded, Hyoma’s hands on your waist tightened slightly. Then, unexpectedly, he shifted his stance and gently guided your leg against his hip.

Your breath hitched, your body instinctively drawing closer to him. When you looked up in surprise, you saw a glint in his eyes—something new, something unreadable.

“This must be what it means to live the art, right?” he murmured, his voice playful yet carrying an underlying weight.

Your hands rested on his shoulders, your body naturally molding to his. Hyoma slowly leaned you backward, dipping you with precision. His grip was firm yet gentle, a silent promise that he wouldn’t let you fall.

Your eyes remained locked. The space between you shrank with every passing second. There was no way he couldn’t hear your racing heartbeat.

As your head tilted back, Hyoma’s hold tightened slightly before stopping, leaving you suspended in the moment. His face was close—too close. His breath ghosted over your skin.

“I think this is where Lucas lost,” he whispered, his voice impossibly low. “What do you think, Y/N?”

And in that moment, you realized—this wasn’t a game anymore.

Hyoma was still holding you firmly. Your back was arched, your breath unsteady. But the real instability came from the way your heart pounded against your ribs.

Hyoma’s face lingered near yours. His gaze held the truth neither of you had spoken. His emotions weren’t in his words, but in the way his body moved with yours.

Then, in the softest whisper, he murmured against your skin:

“Habibi…”

The single word hung in the air, sending a shiver down your spine. Hyoma’s voice was as calm as ever, yet there was a fire smoldering beneath it. The way he held you, the way he looked at you—it was all an unspoken confession.

You watched him, momentarily speechless. But he didn’t need a reply—he already knew the answer. His body had spoken for him.

Slowly, he pulled you upright again, keeping his hands firmly on your waist to steady you. But he didn’t let go. The warmth of his touch lingered, burning into your skin.

“I think…” he said, never once breaking eye contact. “Now I understand Lucas.”

And in that moment, you realized—the O Clone scene wasn’t just a scene anymore.

Because this was no longer just a reenactment.

This was Hyoma Chigiri’s own story.

Warning: hardcore nsfw,blowjob,fingering,slapping cunt,vaginal sex,slight, mild swearing,incite,humiliating

Word Count: 7487

CONFESSED DESIRES

After a pleasantly hot shower, you stood for a while in the misty air of the bathroom, examining yourself in the misty mirror. Droplets of hair glistened gently on your skin, your face a little red from the heat. You looked in the mirror, took a deep breath and then slowly wrapped the towel around your body, while wrapping your (long/short) hair in the same way to form a blanket over your head. This routine always gave you a sense of peace, a small escape from the busyness of the day.

You step out of the bathroom, feeling the soft texture of the carpet under your feet, and direct your steps towards the living room. As you walked in a focused manner, the smell of coffee from the kitchen filled your nostrils. Hyoma was leaning against the kitchen counter, pouring his coffee. Then, without realizing it, he took another step and the towel slipped from his chest and fell to the floor.

You froze for a moment, your eyes darting in surprise to the towel on the floor. Your body was on full display in front of Hyoma

Hyoma's gaze made him realize that what he really felt when he looked at you was much deeper. The passion and secret desire in his eyes echoed in the silence.

Hyoma noticed the towel as it fell to the floor and focused his eyes on you. He took a step forward as his eyes, with a hint of eagerness, traced the graceful contours of your body. He understood not only the distance between you, but also the depth of your feelings.

He slowly smiled at you and took another step. Looking into your eyes, he parted his lips.

"Don't you think it's a good omen that this towel should fall from such a beautiful body with such graceful features?"

You looked away, embarrassed. Water was dripping onto the carpet. You covered your bare breasts with your palms.

"Like what?" you asked, all the while wishing you were ashamed.

Hyoma removed the towel from his head, freeing his damp, wet hair. He grabbed your chin and turned your face towards her

"You have a burning desire inside you. That desire wants to be free, but you are forcibly chaining it, aren't you?"

Your heart began to race as Hyoma's words echoed in your ears. His gaze bored into you, roaming over every curve of your body as if he wanted to claim you. His fingers under your chin squeezed lightly, turning you completely to him. You had nowhere to run.

"You're trying to suppress your desire, but I know you, Y/N." His voice was deep and inviting. "You've wanted me for a long time, haven't you?"

You swallowed. Your breathing quickened but your lips still wanted to protest. You tried to turn your head to the side but Hyoma prevented it by sliding his hand to the nape of your neck. When he ran his fingers through your wet hair, goosebumps ran down your spine.

"H-hyoma... this..."

"Are you still going to refuse?" he asked, his voice full of mocking warmth. "Your body doesn't lie, but..."

He slid one hand slowly down your shoulder, you felt the warmth of his fingers on your bare skin. You held your breath, but Hyoma had already noticed your reaction. The corner of his lips curled up slightly.

"You will kneel for me, Y/N."

You opened your eyes in shock, trying to ignore him. But Hyoma wasn't taking you seriously. Gently grabbing you by the hair, he pushed you gently to your knees.

"Don't try to resist," he whispered, holding your chin with his other hand as he continued to watch you. "I know how eager you are."

When your knees touched the soft carpet, the fire inside you was undeniable. Your heart was beating wildly, your breathing ragged.

Hyoma looked into your eyes and pulled your head back slightly, running his fingers more tightly through your hair. You couldn't take your eyes off his movements as he slowly unbuttoned his pants. The slight smile that tugged at the corner of his lips turned you on even more.

"Come on, Y/N. We both know how long we've waited for this."

Finally, you let yourself go completely. Slowly, you lifted your hands to Hyoma's hips and felt his breath on you. When you opened your lips, Hyoma's hand slid through your hair to the nape of your neck.

"That's it," he murmured. "Now show me how much you really want it."

You took a shaky breath on your knees, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. Being like this in front of Hyoma embarrassed you and sent a strange wave of excitement through you. But the real chill came when Hyoma opened his pants completely.

Your eyes widened, and a hot flush instantly spread across your face. "W-this..." you mumbled, unable to even string the words together properly.

Hyoma narrowed his eyes and bowed his head slightly. "What happened? Were you scared?" he asked, his voice full of mocking pleasure.

You swallowed, tried to avert your eyes, but Hyoma's hand slipped under your chin, forcing you to look at him again. It was so big you weren't even sure it could fit in your mouth. The heat between your legs grew hotter, but it also created a tension.

"You've never seen anything like this before?" Hyoma continued, his voice slightly dark. "Y/N, I know you've wanted me for a long time, but isn't it a little unfair to me that you're being so timid now?"

You bit your lip, you knew deep down inside that you really wanted this, but the size of it still scared you a little. Slowly lifting your hands, you reached out to him, cautiously touching him with your fingers first. Your breathing paused for a moment as his warmth and hardness spread across your palms.

Hyoma parted his lips slightly as he watched, his eyes darkening. But he obviously didn't have much patience, because he suddenly threaded his fingers through your hair, bringing your head slightly closer to his.

"Open your mouth, Y/N."

You swallowed.

"H-hyoma, but-"

"I said open your mouth."

His voice was full and commanding. His tone made you tremble even more, but it also fueled the urge to surrender. Clasping your hands tighter, you hesitantly parted your lips.

Hyoma's eyes shone with lust. "That's it... it's time to begin."

Finally, putting all your shame aside, you were ready to surrender to him completely.

You parted your lips slowly, your breath hot and shaky. Hyoma's size still made you shiver, but the desire inside you was overpowered by the desire to satisfy him. First you gently touched the tip with your tongue, the warmth immediately spreading into your mouth. It tasted salty, hard and seductive.

Hyoma pulled her head slightly closer, gripping her hair tightly. "Don't take any longer, Y/N. Use that tongue properly," she murmured sternly.

Obediently tilting his head a little more, you slowly ran your tongue around the tip, leaving a sweet wetness in a circular motion. Hyoma took a deep breath, his hand gripping your hair tightly, pulling you closer to him.

"Damn, your lips are so soft... But just stop playing with the tip," he said, his voice getting harder.

Finally gathering courage, you opened your lips wider and slowly began to take him in. You felt your jaw tighten as its thickness slowly worked its way into your mouth. When you had taken a few inches, you raised your head slightly and looked at Hyoma. She was looking down at you with an impatient smile.

"Deeper, honey. Stop playing with me."

Just as you thought to resist, Hyoma's fingers tangled even tighter in your hair and pulled you down hard. Suddenly, when he reached the back of your throat, your eyes watered and you involuntarily tried to pull back slightly.

But Hyoma didn't let you go.

"Where are you going, huh? We've only just started," he growled, his voice full of lust and dominance. "I want you to feel me deep inside you."

You flared your nostrils to breathe and again adjusted yourself to his rhythm. He moved his head back and forth, your tongue enveloping him with each pass, grasping the hardness of wet lips and pulling him in.

The patience had completely disappeared from Hyoma's face. She was controlling you now. He put his hands firmly on either side of your head and began to set the rhythm himself. He thrust in and out hard, each time pressing against the curve of your lips.

"You greedy little whore..." he moaned, his voice getting lower and lower and filled with desire. "Were you born to suck me like this, huh? Your mouth is just right for me..."

You felt a slight burning in the back of your throat with his hard thrusts, but it only made you want more. You put your hands on his hips and tried to keep up with his rhythm, not pulling back even though you could feel his saliva dribbling down your chin.

Hyoma's breathing was becoming erratic. "Damn it, keep it up. I'll never get tired of you," he growled, pulling you closer, pushing you deeper.

The carpet beneath your knees shifted slightly as your body trembled. Hyoma's dominance, his abusive and harsh words seduced you even more. The desire that had been burning inside you was now completely unleashed.

Hyoma's patience was now completely exhausted. At first she may have been giving you a chance as she stroked your hair, but now she had no such intention. Her hands dove hard into your wet hair and suddenly she grabbed your head and pulled you to her.

"Deeper, Y/N. Don't try to pull back."

With his sudden movement, his thickness once again went deep into your throat, your eyes watering involuntarily. Your breath was completely choked, you could feel your throat tightening, but Hyoma was not backing down. He gripped you tightly, pressing your head hard against him.

"It's so pleasurable to see you like this," he moaned, his voice growing hoarse but filled with an insane desire. "Every contraction of your throat feels so good, you can't escape any longer."

With his hands holding your head tightly, he continued to take you inside him in rhythmic, hard movements. Your lips, your chin, even your neck were now under his control. Tears were streaming from your eyes, saliva was running down the sides of your lips and under your chin, but he didn't give a damn about you.

At one point, Hyoma's hand gripped your hair even tighter and pressed you tightly against him. At that moment you stopped breathing completely, your eyes widened, and a pressure settled in your stomach as the hardness of your throat went beyond its limits. You felt like throwing up, but Hyoma had no intention of letting you go.

"Your mouth was made for me, Y/N. Even choking like this looks so beautiful..."

Just as you tried to back away, you were startled by a sudden slap on the cheek. You opened your eyes in shock, but Hyoma wasn't looking at you with pity - instead, he was watching you with a crooked smile at the corner of his lips.

"Be good, sweetheart. We're not done yet."

After that slap, everything inside of him went haywire. A small moan escaped her throat, your hot breath mixed with your saliva hitting her skin. Hyoma seemed even more aroused by this.

Gripping her head tightly with both hands, he sped up his rhythm, completely relentless now. With each deep thrust, he fought the growing pressure in her throat as she panted her way towards satisfaction.

"Ah... That's it, Y/N. I can't do better than you," he murmured with a growl, his fingers tightening in her hair.

Your mind began to blur, your face turned red, your lips numb as tears streamed from your eyes. But Hyoma was so close to letting you go.

Hyoma's breathing had become erratic, but he had no intention of letting you go. Gripping you tightly by the hair, he pressed your head rhythmically and relentlessly against him. Each time he pushed the limits of her throat further and further, cutting off her breath completely. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he only grew more aroused.

"You little whore... Look what I've made you," he growled, his voice trembling with desire. "Your saliva running down your chin, your eyes watering... You're choking on your mouthful and you still can't get away from me."

You wanted to scream, to breathe, but Hyoma's gaze locked you completely. "Swallow, Y/N," he ordered, as he pulled your head back slightly and guided it back to his mouth. "I feel how your throat is contracting for me, you're gripping me so tightly..."

Your knees were starting to burn from the hardness of the carpet, but you were in no mood to care. Hyoma wanted to be completely satisfied before he let you go and he was determined to push you until you were completely exhausted.

His fingers tangled deeper into your hair, his movements getting harder and harder as he took you completely under his control. "Faster, Y/N. Use your tongue better. Drive me crazy."

You were already doing your best, but he was pushing you a little further each time. He was completely covered in your saliva, choking you every time he reached your throat, but the sadistic pleasure in Hyoma made him not let go.

Finally, his body tensed up, his breathing became harsh and his fingers pulled your hair, holding you still.

"Fuck, that's it! Open your mouth, you'll take it all, Y/N."

His warmth spread to your tongue in an instant. Your eyes widened for a moment as your mouth filled quickly, but you had no chance to escape. Hyoma held you in a tight grip until you came completely, not letting you escape in the slightest.

A moan rose up from inside you, the pain under your knees had increased, but your mind was completely clouded. Hyoma pulled his head back slightly as he took his last few breaths and slowly released you.

Your knees ached as you panted, trying to wipe away the hot trail that ran down the corner of your mouth. Your eyes were slightly watery, your face a little messy with saliva and everything. Hyoma looked up at you, stroking his chin with a satisfied smile.

"What a beautiful view... I want to see you like this every time, Y/N."

The pain in your knees was about to bring you to the ground, but Hyoma's gaze, despite everything, was preparing you for more. This wasn't going to end here...

As soon as you escaped from Hyoma's clutches, you spat out everything that had accumulated in your mouth. Your throat was burning, it was hard to breathe. You coughed, your chest rising and falling rapidly. The hot residue mixed with your saliva smeared the corner of your lips, and as you tried to wipe it away with your hands, you felt the pain in your knees even more.

But Hyoma wasted no time in letting you know he wasn't finished.

He grabbed you hard by the hair and suddenly pulled you up. You didn't even have a chance to scream. Your body was still shivering slightly from the warmth of the shower, but you both knew very well that it wasn't just your body that was wet.

"That's not your place, Y/N. Now i’m going to lay you down properly."

Before you knew what was happening, he threw you on the couch. You flinched when your wet skin met the cold skin, but it only gave you a brief wave of coolness. Because Hyoma was right above you.

She leaned over you, turning your face towards her as she continued to hold your hair tightly. Your breathing was still ragged, but when you saw the ferocity in her gaze, goosebumps rose on your skin.

"Spread your legs, Y/N."

Your eyes widened. You tried to pull back, but Hyoma's hand immediately slid to the side of your neck, steadying you.

"Come on," she said, a slightly teasing smile settling on her lips. "You've learned how to use your mouth, haven't you? Now it's time to show me how the space between your legs belongs to me."

When his warm breath hit your skin, you shivered involuntarily. You were tired, but the burning sensation spread even deeper. Hyoma's gaze was undressing you from head to toe and there was no denying the wetness between your legs.

Your hands clutched the edge of the seat, but you knew you could no longer resist the determined look in Hyoma's eyes.

Slowly, but trembling at the same time, you began to spread your legs. Hyoma smiled with satisfaction.

"That's it... My beautiful, obedient girl."

His fingers crawled up your thighs. You belonged to him completely now, and he intended to show it to the fullest.

Hyoma locked his eyes between her legs. The greedy glint in his eyes showed that he was ready to take you completely. He placed one hand gently on the inside of your thighs, his fingertips caressing your skin with a trembling touch. Your muscles tensed involuntarily, but there was no escape.

"Look at me, Y/N," he ordered, his voice full and authoritative. "I told you to spread your legs and you obeyed... You're going to show me again what a good girl you are, aren't you?"

Your breath was ragged, your heart pounding in your ears. But the biggest shock came when his fingers slowly reached your folds.

"I should have guessed you'd be so wet," he murmured, the corner of his lips curling up slightly. "Did you get this wet when you took me in your mouth, or did my forcing you make you this wet?"

You shivered. His fingers continued to explore you, gently at first, then with more assertive touches. He collected your wetness, rubbing you with gentle pressure with his thumb. You leaned your head back and tried to stifle a moan, but Hyoma caught you before you could let go.

"Don't hide your voice from me, Y/N," he warned. "Just as you can't hide this wetness, you won't hide what you feel."

He ran his fingers slowly along your wetness, spreading the slickness further with two fingers, feeling you completely.

"I see how you tremble when I touch you," he continued, his voice taking on an even more sensual tone. "Like your mouth, this place is ready for me, isn't it?"

Her face was hot, but the desire building inside her was much stronger. Hyoma's every word, every touch made you hotter and hotter. When he pressed his fingers firmly on it, feeling the slickness, he shook his head from side to side with a mocking chuckle.

"There's nothing more tantalizing than seeing you like this, honey," he whispered, his lips hovering just at the edge of her neck. "Don't you want more?"

Hyoma's dominance, combined with the pleasure of his touch, made your mind fuzzy. Your breathing became ragged, your legs involuntarily spread a little wider.

Your reaction filled Hyoma's eyes with dark satisfaction. "That's it... now we can really heat things up."

With Hyoma's fingers still exploring you through your wetness, you begged breathlessly:

"Fuck me, Hyoma!"

Your voice was shaky but eager, your need reflected in every word. Your whole body wanted him, he didn't even need to push you any further - you had already surrendered.

But Hyoma only grinned. He slid his fingers deeper into your folds, spreading your wetness even more. To drive you even more crazy, he provocatively pressed and rubbed your most sensitive spot slowly with his thumb.

"Do you deserve it, beautiful?" he whispered, his voice full of sarcasm. "Have you really become such a good girl that you deserve me to come inside you?"

You gasped, your legs trembled involuntarily. Every touch of his drove you crazy, but he relentlessly took you only to the limit and then withdrew.

Hyoma lowered his head, bringing his lips close to your neck, letting you feel his warm breath there. "Did you think you could just let me in? You're going to have to do more, sweetheart."

He slid his fingers in slowly, murmuring contentedly when he felt her warmth thoroughly. "You're tight and hungry... If you really want me, say so with your mouth. Better beg."

The impatience had completely taken over, your knees were still trembling on the edge of the seat. Hyoma's sadistic game was destroying you and you couldn't wait any longer.

You looked up at him, your eyes shining with desire and surrender. Parting your lips, you whispered, your voice trembling:

"Please, Hyoma... come inside me... take me... I want to belong to you."

Hyoma's eyes darkened with pleasure. She moved her fingers inside with a little more pressure and smiled, leaning slightly into your face.

"That's it, my beauty. Now it's time to really claim you."

Hyoma narrowed his eyes, watching her body tremble. Placing one hand under her leg, he made you even more open, slickening her wetness with his other hand, he slowly brought his fingers over her gap.

"Are you still this tight, honey?" he whispered, rubbing his thumb over your folds. "If you really want to take me inside you, you'll have to open up a little first."

Without giving you another moment to breathe, he slowly inserted a single finger inside you. It slipped in easily thanks to your wetness, but you were instantly startled by the slight burning you felt, your legs closed involuntarily.

"Ahh... H-hyoma-"

Hyoma's lips curled up in a devilish smile. "What is it, honey? We're just getting started."

He began to move his finger slowly back and forth, feeling you from the inside, trying to open you further. He watched you squirm with pleasure as your body tried to adapt to him.

"How sensitive you are... If you react like this on my first finger, what will you be like when you take my cock?"

His words made you hotter but at the same time increased the tension inside you. Hyoma moved his finger back and forth a few more times, then suddenly added a second finger.

"Aahh!"

Your body involuntarily contracted, your legs trembled. Hyoma, without trying to comfort you at all, began to push two fingers in and out deeply.

"You keep squeezing me, Y/N. Even your body is trying to resist me, but it's futile."

He began to move his fingers hard back and forth in the tight wetness inside you, stretching you more and more with each thrust. Your legs involuntarily parted, your body began to adapt to his rhythm. And he was getting more and more satisfied watching you.

"What did I tell you, huh? To get what you want, you have to earn it."

Suddenly he inserted a third finger. This time, the sensation was much greater. Your body responded by trembling, as if you were completely filled. He started pumping harder with three fingers inside you, pushing you a little harder with each movement.

"God, you're so wet. You're practically sliding between my fingers."

Your face was completely flushed, your breathing became ragged and the fire inside you grew bigger with each thrust. Finally, you felt yourself getting close to cumming, your breathing quickened.

But just as you were about to climax, Hyoma suddenly withdrew his fingers.

"H-hyoma!?"

You looked up at him, groaning with the sudden dissatisfaction that gripped you in the void, but he just tilted his head to the side, watching you with a wry smile.

"Did you think it would be that easy, little slut?"

The wetness of his fingers still glistened on your skin. But seeing your ruined state was not enough to satisfy him.

Suddenly, he lifted his thumb and gave your clit a hard smack.

"Ahh-!"

Your eyes widened for a moment as the sharp sensation jolted you. But Hyoma continued unabated.

"You wanted to cum without my permission, huh? When did I give you permission?"

You gasped, your thighs trembled involuntarily. But Hyoma wanted more.

"The next time you try to reach such heights without my knowledge, I will leave you unsatisfied. Is that clear?"

The words wouldn't come out of your mouth. You could only nod your head quickly. Hyoma's eyes narrowed in satisfaction.

"Good. Now let's see if you really deserve to be inside me."

Your face was still burning with the redness of dissatisfaction. The feeling of emptiness inside you was so intense it almost drove you mad. Your body trembled as if in protest that Hyoma had just let you down.

"You didn't let me cum!" you growled, your eyes filled with anger but also with desire.

Hyoma licked his lips in response to your reaction and smiled wryly. He placed his hands on either side of your thighs and leaned over your body a little more. He was watching you with his hard, greedy eyes.

"Did you think I would satisfy a hungry man like you so easily, honey?" he whispered. "If you play games with me, you will learn my rules."

You averted your eyes from his dangerous gaze, but Hyoma placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look at him again.

"First, you will learn to give me permission to cum. Do you understand?"

Your breath shuddered, but you nodded slowly. He knew very well that the desire inside you was now too strong to be denied.

Hyoma put one hand on your waist, locking into your eyes as he aligned himself over you. In that moment it was just the two of you; the whole world, all sounds seemed to disappear.

"I can't wait to see how you scream as you take me inside you, Y/N."

His tone was filled with demonic lust. But in that moment, more powerful than his words, was the warmth of his hardness in your folds.

Just as you were waiting for him to say something more, he suddenly, mercilessly and deeply entered you.

"Ahhh-!"

Your body was shaken by the sudden feeling of fullness. Your hips reflexively curled against him, your nails dug firmly into the edge of the seat. You gasped completely, a moan escaping your lips involuntarily.

Hyoma tilted his head to the side, closing his eyes in pleasure as he settled in.

"Damn... You're so hot... You're practically sucking me in Y/N."

Without giving you even a moment to adjust, he sat down in your folds, feeling the warmth inside you.

He placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer. "Tell me how deep you feel me, sweetheart. Tell me so I know how well I'm filling you."

You were struggling to breathe, but every moan that escaped your lips made him push you deeper and deeper.

And now you understood Hyoma's true intentions. He wasn't here just to satisfy you - he was here to possess you, to take you completely.

Hyoma's huge cock filled you completely. The heat inside you, combined with his deep pressure, enveloped you with both pain and indescribable pleasure. At first, your body had a hard time adjusting to it, gripping tightly around the folds, reacting to the sudden entrance that quickly filled the tight space inside you.

"Narrow... so narrow, Y/N," Hyoma growled through clenched teeth. "You keep me trapped inside like this... like you don't want to let me go."

You took a shuddering breath, your hands reflexively gripping the edges of the seat tightly as your legs spread wider for him. For a few seconds he remained motionless, enjoying filling you completely. But the wait didn't last long.

A moan escaped his throat as Hyoma pulled back slightly, then thrust deeply into him again.

"Ahh... H-hyoma..."

Even this first movement was intense enough to drive you crazy. The pressure you felt inside made the pain start to turn into sweet pleasure.

Hyoma locked his eyes on the expression on your face. "It hurts, doesn't it?" he said, his voice dark and mocking. "But at the same time you want it. You can't hide the desire burning inside you from me, Y/N."

Gripping your waist tightly, he pulled you closer to him, pushing your hips back and forth in slow but powerful movements. He entered you deeper and deeper, each time pushing you a little harder.

Your body began to adapt to him. The pain was replaced by a completely different sensation. With each thrust your folds took him deeper into you, your wetness the perfect lubricant for him.

"I can feel you trembling with pleasure, honey," Hyoma murmured as he accelerated his hips a little more. "Feeling me so deep inside you is driving you crazy, isn't it?"

He moved one hand to his stomach and pressed it, squinting his eyes at you.

"Can you feel it here, Y/N? Can you feel how I fill you from the inside?"

You let out a scream, your hips involuntarily curled into him, your legs squeezing him a little more. The fullness you felt inside you was slowly pushing you towards the peak of pleasure.

Hyoma tilted his head to the side, smiling. "Come on, tell me Y/N," he growled. "How does it feel to feel me so deep inside you? Tell me how good it feels, honey."

He was driving you a little more crazy with every movement. The pain was completely gone now, replaced only by searing passion and pleasure. As your body merged with his, every cell in your body wanted to scream his name.

Hyoma had no intention of stopping until he had completely taken you over.

Hyoma curled his lips into an evil smile at the expression that spread across his face. Your legs trembled, your fingernails dug into the edge of the seat. The tight muscles inside you, still adjusting, resisted his hard, deep thrusts.

"Ah! It hurts, Hyoma!" you moaned, your voice shaky but still full of desire.

Hyoma didn't stop. On the contrary, her pleasure shone brightly in her eyes as she felt the tightness and warmth inside her even more intensely.

"It hurts but you're not running away, Y/N." he murmured in a teasing voice. "Your legs are still open, still trapping me inside. Would you hold me so tightly if you really didn't want to?"

He put one hand on your waist and gripped you tighter, while the other hand pressed on your stomach, continuing to feel how he was filling you from the inside.

"How do you feel me inside you, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice deepening. "You say I'm hurting you, but every time I push, you get warmer."

While you were still trying to take deep breaths, Hyoma didn't slow down for a moment. His hips thrust forward, pushing you harder, you could feel your muscles tightening around him with each thrust.

"Slow down... please..." you begged, but Hyoma only laughed a mocking laugh as he leaned down and released his hot breath right next to your neck.

"You want me to slow down now?" he whispered in a growl. "You were so obedient when you were on your knees for me. But now, when I take you inside me, you try to run away?"

You wanted to put your hands on the bed and push him away, but he held you tighter, speeding up his movements, increasing his rhythm.

"I told you you'd feel everything, Y/N." he murmured, his breath heavy now. "If you play with me, you have to accept that your limits will be pushed."

Your body began to find pleasure in the pain. The initial hardness gave way to a slowly growing wave of pleasure. Your heart was racing, the depth you felt with each thrust was driving you crazy.

Hyoma lifted her face and looked into his eyes. "Tell me how I feel inside you, Y/N," he whispered. "It drives you crazy to feel me this deep every time, doesn't it?"

You couldn't even string the words together anymore. Your body was in time with his rhythm, your hips writhing against him with every thrust. The moans that escaped your lips were now only pleasure as pleasure manifested itself through the pain.

And Hyoma had no intention of stopping until he had you completely possessed.

Hyoma's eyes were completely black with lust. The wild passion inside him had reached a point of no return. He wanted more. He wanted to take you completely, to make you his.

Suddenly he dropped his body on top of you, letting you feel his weight completely. You gasped, the pressure of his warm skin pressed against yours driving you even crazier. Taking her hands by the wrists, he pinned them on either side of her head, pressing her hips hard against his curves.

"Wrap your legs around my waist, Y/N," he ordered, his voice low and authoritative. "If you want to feel me deeper inside you, spread wide and surrender to me."

The burning inside you was already driving you crazy. When he slowly lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, you couldn't help the moan that escaped between your lips.

"That's it... Aren't you my beautiful, submissive girl?" Hyoma asked, the corner of his lips curling up in a teasing smile.

Before you could answer, he suddenly thrust his hips forward hard.

"AHH-!"

You jerked, your nails digging into the bed. Hyoma had you pinned to him and there was no escape now. You felt every inch of him inside you, realizing that you were completely filled by his hard thrusts.

"How can I give you more if you squeeze me so hard, huh?" he growled, pumping his hips back and forth in rhythmic but hard movements. "I told you to be a good girl, Y/N. Open up to me completely."

Your body began to obey him completely, each thrust going deeper, filling him to the brim.

Hyoma was gasping for breath, but he didn't slow down and continued to fuck you madly. He moaned with pleasure as your legs wrapped even tighter around his waist.

"Yes, that's it... lock me deep inside you, honey."

With each movement he went deeper and deeper, trapping you more and more inside him with each passing second. "Look how good you are," she moaned, pressing her lips to his neck. "You were born to feel me this deep inside you, Y/N."

Your legs began to tremble, your body completely relaxed, attuned to his rhythm. You belonged only to him now.

Hyoma's muscles began to tense, his movements became more rigid. "You're about to cum, aren't you?" he asked, panting. "Feeling me inside you is driving you crazy, isn't it?"

Just as I was about to answer, he suddenly picked up the pace, making his final thrusts to take you completely.

And after a few deep, hard thrusts, he threw his head back, gritting his teeth, filling you deep inside for the last time.

"Ahh... Y/N!"

His warmth suddenly spread through you, your body shuddered, you turned your head to the side and bit your lip. He had cum so deep inside you that the heat was burning you completely.

After a few deep breaths, Hyoma opened his eyes and watched you.

"If you keep pulling me in like this, honey..." he whispered, brushing his lips against the side of your neck. "I'll never get tired of ruining you like this every time."

Your body was still trembling beneath him, but the warmth inside you had completely taken over. You belonged to him now. And he was going to savor it to the fullest.

Hyoma's breathing became ragged, but he had no intention of stopping. He was moving his hips relentlessly as he drove deep inside you. He had you completely possessed and would not stop until he had pushed you beyond your limits.

"You little slut..." he growled, gritting his teeth. "How am I going to move more if you squeeze me so tight, huh?"

Your legs were still wrapped tightly around his waist, every hard thrust left you gasping for breath, uncontrollable moans escaping your mouth. But he was not willing to be satisfied.

"Are you contracting to keep me inside you, Y/N?" he asked, his voice dark and seductive. "You want to feel me even deeper inside you, don't you? You think I'll never be enough for your greedy hole?"

Your body writhed a little more with each of his hard thrusts, but the pain had already turned to pleasure. You put your hands on his shoulders, your fingers buried in his skin. Hyoma noticed this and tilted his head to the side with a wry smile.

"Fuck, I'm destroying you and you want more than that, don't you?"

He wrapped one hand around your waist, pulling you deeper into him, buried to the very bottom. The fullness inside you was driving you crazy, you were completely out of breath.

"I told you, Y/N," he continued, his voice now completely seduced. "You will beg for me inside you. You won't be able to live without feeling me."

He accelerated his hips even more, body slamming into the seat beneath him, each impact magnifying the heat inside him.

"I'll never get tired of fucking you like this," she moaned, sinking her teeth into his neck, leaving a trail. "You know you belong to me, don't you? You've made me unable to live without this hole of yours, little whore."

Pleasure began to take over her body completely. Hyoma's abusive words, his rough movements, the feeling of fullness inside you... everything was driving you uncontrollably to the top.

"Ahh-Hyoma! More... please!"

This plea drove Hyoma even crazier. He slapped her buttocks and reached his top speed.

"Cum, Y/N," he ordered, his voice full and determined. "Feel me deep inside you and cum! I want to see you like this!"

And finally, your body exploded, unable to hold on. You let out a scream, your muscles contracting tightly around him as waves of pleasure washed over your whole body. Hyoma groaned, cursing at the squeeze, made a few more hard thrusts and climaxed with you.

"Fuck, Y/N! That's it... take it all, fill it with me!"

When he came inside you, his heat made you even hotter. Your legs were still trembling, your body completely surrendered to him. Hyoma watched you for a while, panting.

Finally, he put his lips close to your neck and lifted his head to whisper:

"You'll never want to take me out of you, sweetheart."

You knew it wouldn't last. Hyoma couldn't wait to destroy you even more.

Hyoma exhaled deeply, his body still trembling. His muscles relaxed with the satisfaction of coming, but there was still that wild hunger inside him. His chest rose and fell rapidly as his hot breath hit your skin.

Slowly he slid his hands from her waist, pulling you underneath him and dropping them a little higher. She moaned deeply, pressing her lips lightly against the side of his neck as she felt the heat inside you.

"Fuck... I didn't think it would be this good, Y/N."

His voice was still sensual and tired, but there was still something in it that couldn't get enough of you. As he ran his fingers over her skin, he realized he still hadn't untied her legs from around his waist. Smiling, he tilted his head to the side.

"You still don't want to leave me, do you?" he asked in a teasing whisper.

You were still trying to catch your breath. Your body was completely relaxed, but you leaned against him, feeling the sweet ache inside.

Hyoma ran his fingers through your hair, pulling you a little tighter to him. "I didn't think you could take this much," he said, brushing his lips lightly against the edge of your ear. "But you really surprised me, sweetheart."

She took another deep breath, her body relaxing a little more. But the expression on his face showed that this was not the end.

"You can rest now," he said, running his fingers along her back. "But not for too long... Because next time, I'm going to fuck you up even worse, Y/N."

You could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn't really eager to end the day here.

Your body was still reeling from Hyoma's rough touch and the heat he had put inside you. Your muscles were trembling, your heart was still beating in an irregular rhythm. You took a deep breath, but when you tried to move you realized that your legs were struggling to carry you properly.

As you struggled to sit up, Hyoma leaned his arms behind his head and watched you with amusement. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"What's the matter, honey, can't you walk?" he asked, his voice filled with mock satisfaction.

You glared at her, but Hyoma's smile grew a little wider as you realized that her eyes were tired and still full of desire.

When you tried to stand up, you felt your legs trembling and a warm feeling still radiating through you. The worst thing was the fullness inside you. The warmth that Hyoma had emptied was still inside you, like something that didn't belong to you but had taken you over completely...

As you tried to walk slowly, you realized that your body was still covered in sweat. You had only been out of the shower for a short time, but it was obvious how Hyoma had ruined you. Now you would have to wash again.

But the real problem was to clean yourself inside. Inside your vagina there was still the warm residue left by Hyoma. Every time you took a step, you felt it more and more. The feeling that spread through you was both embarrassing and strangely pleasurable.

You slowly made your way to the bathroom. Hyoma was watching you from behind, still ogling your naked body.

"Are you going to clean yourself, Y/N?" she asked, her voice slightly husky and full of lust. "Or do you want to get ready for me again?"

Your face instantly turned red. You slammed the bathroom door without answering him, but when you looked in the mirror inside, your expression gave you away.

You mumbled to yourself: "This man is going to ruin me..."

As you went under the hot water in the bath, your body finally relaxed a little. Your muscles still ached, but what bothered you most was the feeling of fullness inside you. You stood under the water a little longer to get rid of the marks left by Hyoma, but your mind was still preoccupied with what had just happened.

You put your hands over your face and sighed. "What was that, God?" you muttered to yourself. "I've never been so tired in my life."

As you cleaned your body, you remembered Hyoma's arrogant smile and mocking gaze. She was, as usual, sprawled out on the bed feeling over-satisfied and definitely enjoying the fact that she had sent you to the bathroom.

You rolled your eyes and turned off the water. As you wrapped your towel around your body, you glanced in the mirror. Your messy hair, your slightly red lips, that slightly devastated expression that still lingered on your face... Yes, you were exactly as Hyoma wanted you to be.

When you opened the door and returned to the living room, Hyoma was still sprawled on the sofa, relaxed. When he saw you, he narrowed his eyes and grinned.

"Did you clean yourself up, honey?" he asked, his voice slightly teasing.

Taking a deep breath, you approached her, put your hands on her waist and tilted her head slightly to the side. "Yes, Hyoma. There is no trace of you in me anymore."

He smiled, catching the sarcastic tone in that answer. "Is that so?" he asked, sitting up slightly and moving closer to you. "Then I'll have to refill it."

Your eyes widened for a moment, but then an intelligent smile settled on your face. "I guess the most logical thing in that case would be... to leave the bath water running."

Hyoma paused for a moment at this answer, then burst out laughing. "Y/N, you really are a troublesome woman."

You winked. "And you'll never get enough of me, Hyoma."

Warning: soft nsfw, footjob

Word Count: 942

SOLE SATISFACTION

That evening, you were having a relaxing time with your boyfriend. Your conversation was light, jumping from one topic to another, but there was something you had been wanting to ask for a long time. Finally, gathering your courage, you pursed your lips slightly and turned to him.

“Hyoma, have you ever thought about trying different fetishes?”

Hyoma tilted his head slightly as if in thought. “Hmm… I don’t think I have any specific fetishes. But I’m open to trying things,” he said with a slight smile.

That was exactly the answer you wanted to hear. Shifting slightly, you stretched out your legs and watched him with a seductive expression.

“For example, would you like me to give you a footjob?”

Hyoma paused for a moment. His eyes locked onto yours, then instinctively drifted to your feet. You knew he always found your legs attractive, but he seemed to have no particular thoughts about your feet. After a few seconds of silence, he smiled slightly.

“To be honest, I don’t have a foot fetish… but your touch always feels good… so why not?”

His answer satisfied you. Smiling softly, you sat up, slowly moving your toes as you slid them toward him. Hyoma seemed to hold his breath for a moment—he wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist your touch.

Meanwhile, your hands gently reached for his long, silky hair. Hyoma’s hair had an irresistible allure to you. Every time you were close to him, you had the urge to run your fingers through those soft, delicate strands. Noticing this, Hyoma raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Do you really love playing with my hair that much?”

As your fingers glided through his dark locks, you narrowed your eyes slightly.

“I love it even more than you think… It’s so soft that sometimes I just want to run my hands through it all day.”

Hyoma tilted his head slightly, letting out a pleased hum. “You’re spoiling me too much, you know?”

“This isn’t spoiling,” you said, pressing your foot against him a little more. “We’re just discovering different ways to have fun together.”

Hyoma took a deep breath, his eyes slowly closing. At that moment, he realized this experience would bring him more pleasure than he had initially thought.

You could feel Hyoma’s deep breaths, his body gradually surrendering to you. You became more intentional with your movements, determined to push him to the edge. First, you lightly brushed your toes against his hardened arousal, starting with gentle movements, just easing him into the sensation.

Hyoma leaned his head back, biting his lower lip. “This really…,” he murmured but couldn’t finish his sentence, as you dragged the sole of your foot slowly along his length.

“Go on, Hyoma. Tell me how it feels.”

Hyoma squinted his eyes at you, then hesitated for a moment before fully giving in to the sensation, spreading his legs slightly. Taking this as encouragement, you increased the intensity of your movements. You pressed the arch of your foot against him, keeping a steady rhythm.

Within minutes, you realized he was not only getting used to it but also enjoying every moment. First, you caressed him slowly with the side of your foot, then added a bit of pressure with your heel, offering him a different kind of stimulation. Hyoma let out shallow breaths in response to your touch.

“Shit, this… feels weird but incredible.”

Watching him with a sweet smile, you teased, “Good… Then let’s take it a little further, shall we?”

Lifting your foot slightly, you curled your toes around him, fully embracing his hardness. Now, there was no mere surface-level touch—your feet were completely enveloping him. To create a more slippery sensation, you added a slight bit of moisture, making your movements even smoother, sending shivers through Hyoma’s body.

“Y/N…” His voice was husky. He had completely surrendered to you. His hands unconsciously gripped the bed, and his legs trembled involuntarily. The faster you moved, the more intense his reactions became.

Hyoma’s head fell back, his breathing turning erratic. You quickened your pace just a little more, pushing him further toward his limit. When you tightened your grip with your feet, wrapping him completely, Hyoma suddenly let out a deep groan, his head dropping forward.

His entire body tensed, his muscles quivered, and he let out a shuddering breath. Then, warmth suddenly spread across your feet. The intense wave of release coated your skin completely. As Hyoma trembled, you took great satisfaction in watching the effects of your touch on him.

For a few seconds, the two of you simply sat there, catching your breath. Hyoma was still lost in the aftermath of pleasure, while you felt the sticky warmth on your feet. Smirking, you lifted your feet slightly, showing them to him.

“That got pretty messy, Hyoma.”

Hyoma opened his eyes to look at you, still trying to regain his composure. Then, his gaze dropped to your feet, and he frowned slightly. “Did you plan this?”

“Maybe,” you said with a playful giggle, shifting your feet slightly to emphasize the mess. “Looks like I need some cleaning up too.”

Hyoma took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at you. “Then I guess I owe you something in return, don’t I?”

Hearing that, you locked eyes with him, excitement flickering in your gaze. If that meant he was willing to indulge in your own fetish as well…

Warning: None

Word Count: 1148

HEARTACHE

When Hyoma opened the door and walked into the house, he was limping. The moment you saw him, you jumped to your feet. Seeing the pained expression on his face made your chest tighten.

Y/N: “Hyoma! What happened? Is it your knee again?”

Hyoma bent down to take off his boots, but the pain made him let out a sharp breath. “It’s nothing, I think I just overdid it,” he mumbled. You crouched down beside him and carefully removed his shoes.

Every crease on Hyoma’s face, the way his brows furrowed, even the slight sweat on his forehead—all of it cut deep into your heart.

Y/N: “Why do you keep pushing yourself like this? Can’t you try resting for once?” you said, but your voice trembled. Tears began to fall from your eyes as you instinctively reached out and touched his knee.

Hyoma: “Y/N, please don’t cry,” Hyoma whispered, placing his hand on your cheek. “I’m fine. My knee just hurts a little; it’s nothing serious.”

Y/N: “If you’re in pain, mine is twice as bad,” you said without wiping away your tears. You started gently massaging his knee, determined to do whatever you could to help him heal.

Hyoma: “You love me too much, Y/N,” he said with a faint smile, running his hand through your hair. “But I promise, I’ll be more careful next time.”

Smiling through your tears, you hugged him. “Don’t scare me like this, okay? I can’t imagine a life without you.”

Pulling you close to his chest, Hyoma whispered, “Everything feels easier with you by my side.” For a moment, you both found solace in each other’s warmth. Your calm breathing seemed to ease Hyoma’s pain, even if only a little.

You wiped your tears while carefully inspecting his knee.

Y/N: “We need to ice this immediately. Come on, let’s move to the living room. I’ll take care of you.”

Hyoma: “Y/N, it’s really not necessary. If I just rest for a bit, it’ll get better.”

Y/N: “Hyoma, please don’t be stubborn. I won’t feel at ease if we don’t do something. And I want to help before it hurts you even more.”

Seeing the determination in your eyes, Hyoma gave in. He loved this side of you. With your help, he got up and made his way to the couch in the living room.

You went to the kitchen and returned with an ice pack and a clean cloth. Placing the pack carefully on Hyoma’s knee, you pressed it gently.

Y/N: “This will feel better. You need to rest for a few days. No training, no nothing.”

Hyoma: “It’s not that serious, Y/N. It’s just a little sore.”

Y/N: “Hyoma! I don’t want anything to happen to you. You’re more important to me than anything else,” you said, your voice slightly raised. Then you softened and added, “Nothing means anything without you.”

Hyoma smiled at your words. “How can I argue with you when you’re this sweet? Fine, I promise. I’ll rest.”

You sighed and sat down beside him, leaning your head on his shoulder. Hyoma wrapped his arm around you, and the two of you sat in silence for a while.

Hyoma: “You’re my everything, Y/N. Just knowing how much you care makes me feel so special. But one day, I’ll learn how to take care of myself so I won’t upset you like this.”

Y/N: “Just stay by my side. That’s all I’ll ever need,” you said, closing your eyes.

As soon as you shut your eyes, you felt Hyoma’s forehead press against yours

Hyoma: “Do you really love me this much?”

Taking a deep breath, you smiled softly.

Y/N: “Yes, Hyoma. I love you so much that sometimes I’m amazed by how fast my heart beats for you. Your pain feels like my pain. So please, take care of yourself. I’m begging you.”

Hyoma went silent, gazing into your eyes. “I promise I’ll take better care of myself. But you… don’t cry like this, okay? Seeing your tears breaks me.”

You kept smiling as you gently ran your fingers through Hyoma’s hair. “When you’re okay, I’m okay. Just remember that.”

Hyoma nodded and kissed your forehead. “I’m so lucky. Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve this much love.”

With a playful tone, you retorted, “If you don’t deserve it, who does? I have such a perfect boyfriend that I see jealousy in people’s eyes sometimes.”

Hyoma chuckled. “Then I should protect you from anyone who doesn’t deserve you. No one can compete with my perfect girlfriend.”

You giggled, leaning your head back on Hyoma’s chest. “Being with you is worth everything, no matter what.”

Sensing that you were both about to get overly emotional, you decided to lighten the mood with a sudden change in tone.

Y/N: “Okay, enough with the sappy stuff! That knee is going to rest! No moving around, got it? Or else there will be consequences!”

Hyoma, surprised by your sudden shift, tried to keep a straight face.

Hyoma: “Oh really? What kind of consequences, love?”

Raising your brows, you replied in a serious tone, “The kind where I chain you to the bed myself! No training, no nothing!”

Hyoma laughed. “Chaining me up? That doesn’t sound too bad.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, despite yourself. “Hyoma! I’m serious. If your knee gets worse, I’ll be the one carrying you again.”

Hyoma smirked. “Oh, you’d carry me? You’re my strong warrior queen, after all.”

Crossing your arms, you replied, “Don’t test me. As queen, my orders are absolute. That knee is going to rest, or your punishment will be severe.”

Hyoma teased, “Oh no, what’s the punishment? Are you going to take away my dinner?”

You went even further with your threat: “No, worse. I’ll hide all your clothes, and you’ll have to go outside in a bathrobe!”

Hyoma couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Alright, alright, I surrender! I won’t move an inch, I promise!”

Finally, you sighed in relief and checked the ice pack. Then you ruffled Hyoma’s hair and smiled gently. “Good. If you behave, there might be rewards too.”

Hyoma looked intrigued. “Oh? What kind of reward?”

Raising your brow again, you replied, “That’s a secret until you’re better.”

Hyoma winked at you. “Well then, I have a great motivation to recover quickly.”

Warning: None

Word Count: 1727

RED SUITS YOU SO WELL

When Hyoma came home, you were happily flipping through a magazine in the living room. You smiled at your boyfriend as he entered the door.

Y/N: “Welcome home, my princess. How was the interview?”

Hyoma: “Not bad. But right now, all I want is to take a shower and relax.”

As Hyoma headed toward the bathroom, he noticed your amused gaze but didn’t dwell on it. He had planned to enjoy a nice, relaxing shower, but a few minutes later, a high-pitched scream echoed through the house.

Hyoma shouting: “Y/N! What the hell is going on here?! What is this mess?!”

Trying to figure out what was happening, you rushed into the bathroom. When you opened the door, Hyoma stood there, towel wrapped around his waist, completely red from head to toe!

Seeing Hyoma in that state, you were shocked.

“What… what happened to you?! You’ve been painted red!”

Hyoma was furious. Running his hands through his hair, he shouted.

“What happened to me?! Can’t you see? My shampoo turned into some kind of dye! Did you do this, huh?”

You tried hard not to laugh, but your efforts were in vain. You burst into laughter, laughing so much that tears filled your eyes. Hyoma, on the other hand, was getting even angrier.

Hyoma: “Is this funny?! Are you kidding me, Y/N?! Did you do this?!”

Through your laughter, you barely managed to respond:

“It wasn’t me! I swear, I didn’t do it! But… this is so funny!”

At that moment, you remembered Nagi coming over earlier in the day. The idea of adding red dye to Hyoma’s shampoo might have been Nagi’s prank.

Amidst your laughter, you managed to speak:

“I think this was Nagi’s doing! He was here this morning… he came to use the bathroom!”

Hyoma, enraged, ran his hands through his hair again.

“That sick-headed fool! I’m going to get him! Y/N, this is going to be a showdown he won’t forget!”

You continued to laugh on the floor, unable to stop. Hyoma’s anger seemed to be completely useless in the face of your laughter. But in his mind, he was already planning his revenge!

Hyoma, still pulling at his hair, was about to lose it.

Hyoma: “Nagi! That idiot came here this morning and dyed my shampoo?! Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?!”

You tried to calm down.

“Calm down, Hyoma. He came to see you… but you were at the interview. So, since he came all the way here, I offered him some tea. Then he used the bathroom. How was I supposed to know he’d add red dye to your shampoo?”

Hyoma’s anger wasn’t letting up:

You couldn’t stop laughing, and Hyoma’s angry yet hilarious look made it even harder for you to hold it in.

You giggled:

“But Hyoma, think about it… red really suits you!”

Hyoma frowned and took a deep breath.

Hyoma: “Cut the crap, Y/N! There’s practice tomorrow, and I’m supposed to go out there looking like a tomato?! Everyone will make fun of me!”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter and fell to the floor.

“Oh, Hyoma, I’m sorry, but this is so funny! I wish you could see yourself right now!”

Hyoma: “You’re having fun, aren’t you? Fine! You’re just as guilty as Nagi! You didn’t warn me, and now you’re laughing at me. You’ll pay for this!”

Suddenly, Hyoma lunged forward, grabbed you by the waist, and lifted you into the air.

With your feet off the ground, you screamed: “What are you doing, Hyoma?! Put me down right now!”

Hyoma said sarcastically:

“Let’s see if red suits you, princess!”

As you tried to escape his grasp, you were laughing uncontrollably. You both chased each other around the bathroom for a while, and in the end, you gave up when Hyoma managed to get foam on his hands.

Between giggles, you spoke:

“Alright, alright! I give up! But admit it, you can’t resist making a plan for Nagi!”

Hyoma smirked:

“You’re right about that. I’ll teach that idiot a lesson he’ll never forget. But first, I need to get rid of this red mess on my body!”

Still unable to shake off the ridiculousness of the situation, you decided to help Hyoma. But deep down, he was already plotting revenge against Nagi.

Hyoma, still fuming, looked like a ball of fire with his red skin and hair as he was on the verge of losing his temper.

Y/N: “Hyoma, I don’t know what to say… but I have to admit, this red skin and hair really go well together. You look like a devil!”

Hyoma, frowning and placing his hands on his hips, stared at you as you continued to laugh.

Hyoma: “Y/N, this is not funny. Did you just call me a devil?! I’m completely humiliated, and you’re still laughing!”

You kept giggling:

“But really, you look just like a devil! You know, one of those with little horns and a trident from cartoons. Red really suits you, admit it!”

Hyoma took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror. You were right; with his completely red skin and fuchsia-red hair, he did look like he stepped out of a cartoon.

Hyoma sighed: “I’ll never forget this. I’m going to make Nagi regret this. But first, I need to get rid of this ridiculous look!”

Y/N: “No, no! Stay like this for a bit longer! Maybe you’ll get a new nickname, like ‘Red Devil Hyoma.’”

Hyoma, walking towards you to silence you, but you ran away to the other side of the room, laughing.

Hyoma: “Alright, enough already! Come here so I can show you what a real devil can do!”

As you ran away, still laughing, tears were streaming from your eyes.

Y/N: “Alright, Red Devil Hyoma, what are you going to do to punish me? Are you going to paint me red too?”

Hyoma gave up and sat down on the floor, putting his head in his hands.

Hyoma, in a defeated voice:

“No, just hand me that brush and help me clean my hair. But once I deal with Nagi, Y/N, then you’ll really see what a devil looks like!”

Laughing, you grabbed the brush and began to help him clean his hair, all while cherishing this unforgettable moment. Hyoma’s “Red Devil” form would be something that everyone would remember for a long time.

You were both in the bathroom, working together to remove the red dye from Hyoma’s skin. With a loofah and soap in hand, you scrubbed his back, but the dye was stubborn.

Hyoma, hopelessly: “Do you think this will really come off? Or am I going to be stuck like this forever?”

Y/N: “Who knows? Maybe your fate is to be a red devil. But hey, it doesn’t look that bad, we’ll get used to it.”

Hyoma, sulking: “Gertrudis, I’m serious! How am I going to go to school like this? What about practice? If they see me like this, they’ll make fun of me!”

With a more serious tone, you replied: “Alright, alright. We’re trying. Just be patient. But this dye doesn’t seem to want to come off. Maybe we can try some turnip juice or something, what do you think?”

Hyoma, despite your teasing tone, couldn’t help but feel angry. He checked his arms; still red.

Hyoma: “Turnip juice? For God’s sake, can’t you come up with a more reasonable solution? Maybe there’s a product that removes skin dye. Or… I’ll threaten Nagi to tell me how to clean it off.”

Y/N: “Ah, Hyoma. Even when you’re battling dye, you’re making threats. Do you know how much I love you? Guess why?”

Hyoma shot you a look.

Hyoma: “Are you enjoying seeing me like this?”

Y/N: “No, because you’re angry but still cute.”

Laughing, you started scrubbing Hyoma’s head with more soap.

Y/N: “Alright, let’s keep trying. Maybe hot water will help loosen it up.”

Hyoma took a deep breath.

Hyoma: “If this dye doesn’t come off, I’ll have to spend the whole day like this, a red devil.”

Y/N: “Don’t worry, I’m here. And if necessary, I’ll keep washing you. After all… you’re my devil.”

For a moment, Hyoma smiled at your words but then scowled.

Hyoma: “Y/N, don’t tell anyone about this. Or else I’ll paint you red too!”

Y/N: “As you command, princess. I’ll never tell.”

After a long struggle, you finally managed to get Hyoma back to his old self. The dye had barely come off his skin. Even though the dye was gone, his anger toward Nagi hadn’t subsided.

Hyoma rubbed his hands together: “Enough already! Once I get my hands on Nagi, we’ll see what happens!”

Y/N: “You’re really determined to do this. You’ll probably see it as an ‘art project’ and laugh while doing it.”

Hyoma ignored your joke and put on his jacket. He gave a look that showed he was ready to chase after Nagi. He quickly opened the door. For a moment, you tried to stop him, but then you realized things could get even more complicated.

Y/N: “Take me with you! Someone else should be involved in this.”

Hyoma, considering your request, looked at you sternly, not even bothering to make eye contact:

“This time, I’m going alone. Everyone should learn their lesson!”

Seeing his determination, you sighed, realizing just how frustrating Nagi could be. In front of Hyoma, you were about to turn even redder than his dyed hair.

Y/N: “Alright, but don’t be too hard on him, or he might call you ‘a cute ghost’ again.”

Warning: None

Word Count: 1870

CREEPY NIGHT

The power outage had created an eerie silence in the house. Only the faint sound of the wind outside could be heard. You were in the kitchen, using the flashlight on your phone to look inside the fridge. The thought, “What should we eat?” kept circling in your mind. Even the slight coolness emanating from the fridge couldn’t ease the tension of the moment.

Hyoma, meanwhile, was quietly walking toward the kitchen. The power outage didn’t bother him; in fact, he enjoyed moving calmly in the darkness. When he saw you with your back turned, carefully inspecting the fridge, a sly smile spread across his face. He approached silently, and just as you were completely unaware, he bent down and whispered unexpectedly:

“What are you looking for?”

Startled, you almost dropped your phone. Your heart started racing. “AH! Hyoma! You scared me!” you exclaimed, trying to steady your breath.

Hyoma couldn’t contain his laughter. His eyes sparkled with amusement. “What’s the big deal? Just because the power’s out doesn’t mean I have to act like a ghost,” he said with a shrug.

You shot him an annoyed glance, though you couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at your lips. “One day, these pranks of yours are going to give me a heart attack, just so you know,” you grumbled.

Hyoma chuckled, reaching out to aim the phone’s flashlight at the fridge. “Come on, what did you find? Let’s grab something to tide us over until the power comes back, and we’ll call it a truce,” he teased.

Still mildly irritated, you smiled playfully. “Maybe I should just leave you hungry,” you retorted, but you started pulling out items from the fridge.

Hyoma: “So, what are we eating?”

You scanned the shelves once more, holding your phone steady with one hand. “If I don’t die from a heart attack first, I’ll make us some sandwiches,” you muttered. Then, with a touch of irony, you added, “Obviously, the stove and oven aren’t working.”

Hyoma leaned casually against the counter, a mischievous grin still playing on his face as he watched you. “Want me to help?” he offered.

You hesitated for a moment before casting a skeptical look his way. “You’re going to help, and the kitchen will stay intact? If I let you, who knows what you’ll spread on the bread in this darkness instead of mayo.”

Hyoma laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, that’s not fair! That only happened once, and the lights were on!” he protested.

You raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help the small smile that betrayed your amusement. “Fine. But you’re only allowed to take out the bread. I’ll handle the rest,” you said as you grabbed a few more ingredients.

Hyoma pulled out the sandwich bread while holding your phone for light. “Alright, chef, I’ll be your assistant in this darkness. After all, I can’t let my princess go hungry,” he quipped.

Rolling your eyes, you hid your laughter. “If you’re the assistant, then shut up and open the bread. Or I’ll leave you to starve,” you shot back.

As the two of you teased each other, you slowly prepared a sandwich feast together in the dimly lit kitchen. When you noticed Hyoma trying to mess with something, you caught his eye and laughed. Even this moment was enough to make you smile.

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows in the corners of the living room. You and Hyoma were curled up on the couch, listening to the storm’s howl outside. The last crumbs of your sandwiches lay on the plate, but your thoughts had already drifted elsewhere.

Hyoma: “The power doesn’t seem like it’ll come back soon. Look at that storm,” he said, gazing at the candle’s flame.

Y/N: “Yeah. What should we do now?” you asked, resting your head on Hyoma’s shoulder.

Hyoma’s eyes sparkled with a sudden idea. “How about I tell you a scary story?”

You flinched slightly. “You scared me just by appearing beside me earlier. There’s no need for a story.”

Hyoma turned to you with a grin. “But it’s a real story… something that happened to my great-grandfather. I won’t tell it if you don’t believe me,” he added, his tone mysteriously low.

Curiosity began to outweigh your fear. Hesitantly, you asked, “Really? What happened?”

With a victorious smile, Hyoma settled in. “Alright, listen. When my great-grandfather was young, he lived in a village. Back then, toilets weren’t inside the house but out in the yard…”

Y/N: “I know that, Hyoma. Get to the point,” you muttered, your face a mix of fear and curiosity.

Hyoma tried to suppress his grin as he continued. “One night, he woke up and needed to use the toilet. It was pitch dark outside, and all he had was a small kerosene lamp. The wind was so strong that the flame kept threatening to go out.”

You instinctively moved closer to him. “Then what happened?”

Hyoma: “As he walked toward the toilet, he saw something in the corner of the yard. A woman… dressed in white, her long hair blowing in the wind. At first, he called out to her, but she didn’t turn around. He didn’t dare get any closer and just kept watching.”

Your breathing quickened. “And then? What did she do?” you whispered.

Hyoma lowered his voice, making it even more chilling. “She slowly bent down, as if she was looking for something. My great-grandfather finally gathered the courage to approach her and say something, but just then, she lifted her head, and her face… it wasn’t human.”

Unintentionally, you let out a small scream, clutching Hyoma’s arm tightly. “What do you mean it wasn’t human?!”

Hyoma, clearly enjoying your reaction, continued with a serious expression. “He said her face was unimaginably horrifying. She had no eyes, just black voids… At that moment, he ran back to the house and never set foot in that yard at night again.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “Hyoma! That was terrifying!” you said, both impressed and slightly annoyed.

Hyoma shrugged with a faint smile. “But I told you it was true… Or at least that’s what he believed.”

You grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. “If you try to scare me like that again, I’ll blow out all the candles!”

Both of you burst into laughter, and you leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his. “As long as you’re here, I’m not scared of anything. But no more stories like that, okay?”

Hyoma stroked your hair, chuckling. “Alright, princess. But as long as I know you’re by my side, I’m not afraid of anything either.”

The storm continued to howl outside, but the warmth between you and Hyoma made the darkness feel much less intimidating.

Hyoma leaned closer, his cunning smile illuminated by the flickering candlelight as he noticed the mix of fear and unease on your face. “Are you really that scared?” he asked, his voice laced with mocking curiosity.

You shot him a sharp look, but your hands still clung tightly to the blanket without realizing it. “No! It’s just… I don’t know, it’s natural to feel a little uneasy,” you mumbled.

Hyoma leaned even closer to your face, lowering his voice into an eerie tone. “Maybe there’s a ghost hiding in our house too? Ghosts come out on stormy nights and…” He slowly leaned back, glancing dramatically into the darkness as he added, “…creep into the shadows.”

You flinched involuntarily but quickly composed yourself. “Hyoma! Stop it! Or I’ll blow out the candles, and you’ll be stuck in the dark!” you threatened, though your voice quivered slightly.

Hyoma shook his head, laughing heartily. “Ah, Y/N-chan! You’re so adorable when you’re scared. It makes me want to tease you more. Who knows? Maybe there really is a ghost.”

You couldn’t take any more and grabbed a pillow, tossing it at Hyoma’s head. “I don’t care about ghosts, but that pillow I threw was real—take that!”

Catching the pillow mid-air, Hyoma tried to suppress his laughter. “Alright, alright! I surrender,” he said, chuckling. “But if something moves in the darkness, I won’t say anything. I’ll just be ready to protect you.”

You grumbled but eventually burst into laughter as well. “I hope you choose to hold me instead of chasing after a ghost.”

Hyoma opened his arms and moved closer. “Ghosts, monsters, whatever. As long as you’re here, there’s nothing to be afraid of, even in the dark.”

You rested your head on his shoulder. “Alright, my prince. But if you tell another scary story like that, I’ll send you ghost-hunting on your own.”

Hyoma ruffled your hair, laughing. “Deal. No more scary stories. Only love now.”

As you both enjoyed the calm, a sudden knock on the door startled you. Sitting in candlelight during the stormy night made every sound from the outside world seem eerier. You turned to Hyoma, shivering slightly.

“Who could it be at this hour? We weren’t expecting anyone,” you said, your voice trembling a bit.

Hyoma shrugged nonchalantly. “Relax, Y/N. Maybe it’s just the wind playing tricks, or someone knocked on the wrong door.”

Frustrated, you set the candle on the table. “The wind? What kind of wind knocks so precisely on a door? How are you so calm about this, Hyoma?”

With a small smile, Hyoma got up. “Don’t overthink it. Maybe it’s a neighbor dropping something off. Let’s see who it is.”

Still uneasy, you followed him to the door. When you both reached it, Hyoma casually unlatched the chain.

“Hyoma, be careful. What if it’s a creep—or worse—”

Hyoma silenced you with a soft laugh, trying not to fuel your anxiety. “Don’t worry. If it’s a ghost, I’ll protect you, my princess.”

When he opened the door, the candlelight spilled into the hallway, revealing a man standing there with pizza boxes in his hands and a cheerful smile on his face.

“Your pizza is here,” the man announced happily.

You turned to Hyoma with a baffled expression. “Pizza? You ordered pizza?”

Grinning, Hyoma gestured toward the delivery guy. “Surprise! I knew sandwiches wouldn’t fill us up. The power’s out, the stove isn’t working, but there’s no way I’d let my girlfriend go hungry.”

Relieved, you let out a deep breath, your irritation softening for a moment. “You’re going to drive me crazy, Hyoma. But I’ll let it slide this time.”

Warning: None

Word Count: 566

WARM BED

That evening, the weather was very cold, and you were curled up in bed, wrapped tightly in a blanket. Your eyes were closed, but your mind was still awake. While your thoughts twisted around, you felt an unexpected change in weight behind you. Before you could open your eyes, you flinched from a soft hand brushing your back and the warmth of a breath.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” said Hyoma, gently wrapping his arm around your waist. His voice was low and soothing. “Just me.”

For a moment, you turned your head back in surprise. “Hyoma? What are you doing? You scared me!” you said, though there was a hint of relief in your voice.

Hyoma smiled and rested his chin on your shoulder. “I thought you were asleep, so I thought I’d come a little closer. I didn’t want you to be alone in the cold.”

You turned to him and raised your eyebrows. “I don’t think scaring me has anything to do with warmth, Hyoma.”

Hyoma raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay! Maybe I was a little thoughtless. But admit it, you can’t refuse such a warm hug.”

You smiled involuntarily and buried your head back in the blanket. “Okay, since you’re here, don’t move. But if you suddenly barge in like that again, I’ll throw you out of the bed.”

Hyoma chuckled and leaned back. “Okay, princess. I promise I’ll be more polite next time. For now, I’m just enjoying the warmth.”

You sighed wearily and closed your eyes. The feeling of security in Hyoma’s arms quickly pulled you into the depths of sleep. However, you wouldn’t fall asleep that easily.

With your eyes half-closed, you looked at Hyoma’s face and murmured, “Fine. Then warm me up.”

Hyoma raised an eyebrow with a slight smile on his face. “Actually, you should warm me up. You’ve made the bed so cozy. You’re like a furnace.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled the blanket up over your head. “Stop whining and get those cold hands off me.”

Hyoma reached under the blanket and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Is it my fault the outside is freezing? You’re lying here all toasty, think about me a little.”

Unable to resist his spoiled tone, you smiled. “Fine, princess, I’ll warm you up too.”

After those words, Hyoma hugged you tighter. “That’s my beautiful princess. Warming me up and stealing my heart.”

You pulled your head out from under the blanket and turned to Hyoma. “If you call me princess again, you can say goodbye to this warm bed.”

Hyoma tried to hold back his laughter as he hugged you even tighter. “Okay, okay! But I still think you’re the queen of winter nights.”

You hesitated between smiling and being angry, but in the warmth of Hyoma’s arms, you couldn’t resist the sweet teasing any longer. “Shut up and sleep now, or I’ll send you to the stove.”

Hyoma let out a small laugh, kissed your hair, and lay his head on the pillow. “Yes, ma’am, your highness.”

Under the blanket, your movements involuntarily tangled with each other. Hyoma, trying to find a more comfortable position, stretched out his legs and, in the process, touched your feet, which you had been trying to warm under the blanket. You suddenly flinched and grumbled as you tried to straighten the blanket.

“Hyoma, your feet are freezing, what are you doing?” you murmured, still with your eyes closed.

Hyoma laughed softly. “Well, when you come to a warm furnace like this, naturally my ice melts.”

Without opening your eyes, you sighed melodramatically. “Then keep those ice-cold feet away from me.”

However, Hyoma ignored you and moved even closer, wrapping his legs around yours. “What should I do? If you weren’t so warm, I wouldn’t need this.”

You smiled but hid it under the blanket. “Hyoma, our legs are getting all tangled. Don’t you want to move to the other side of the bed?”

Hyoma replied with a mocking tone, “Not a chance. This temperature is just perfect right now.”

Laughing at your boyfriend’s cuteness, you buried your head in the pillow. “Fine, but if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll take the blanket and leave you out in the cold.”

In response to your threat, Hyoma just smiled and kissed your hair again. “Instead of threatening me, maybe you should consider warming my feet up a little more.”

Warning: None

Word count: 1601

THE WARM HAND OF LOVE

Hyoma woke up at midnight with a strange pain in his stomach. He tossed and turned for a while, but the pain only grew worse. His breathing quickened, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, he got out of bed and staggered toward the bathroom. His stomach churned, and his lips were pressed tightly together. The moment he reached the sink, he couldn’t hold back and began to vomit.

You were awakened by the sound of Hyoma and slowly opened your eyes. Not seeing him next to you, a wave of panic washed over you. You raised your head and glanced around, noticing the light seeping through the slightly open bathroom door. “Hyoma?” you called out, but there was no response. Without hesitation, you got out of bed and quickly headed toward the bathroom door.

Light leaked through the slightly ajar door, and the sound of retching came from inside.

When you stepped in, you found Hyoma leaning against the sink, struggling to breathe. His face was pale, and his forehead was covered in sweat. “Hyoma! What happened? Are you okay?” you asked as you rushed to his side.

Hyoma tried to give you a faint smile, but he didn’t have the strength. “I think… there’s a guy here with a cold stomach,” he said, his voice hoarse and tired, still speaking with his head bent over the sink.

You frowned and supported him anxiously. “Not a guy with a cold stomach—just a guy who doesn’t take care of himself. What did you eat today? Or did you catch a chill?”

Hyoma shrugged weakly and nodded slightly. “Maybe… the ice cream this morning… or the cold shower…” he muttered with a guilty tone.

Taking a deep breath, you wiped the sweat off his forehead. “What am I going to do with you, huh? First, you get sick, and then you calmly explain it like it’s no big deal. Come on, let’s get back to bed. We’ll put something warm on your stomach. I’ll make you some lemon tea,” you said, gently helping him to his feet.

Hyoma gave you a surprised look at how carefully you were taking care of him. “I… didn’t want to wake you,” he murmured. You turned off the bathroom light as you supported him against your shoulder. “Did you really expect me to sleep through you throwing up and shutting yourself in the bathroom? Hyoma, I love you like crazy. Of course I’d get up.”

Once Hyoma was back in bed, you hurried to the kitchen to prepare lemon tea and brought a hot water bottle. Sitting by his bedside, you placed the warm bottle on his stomach, stroked his hair, and helped him sip the tea. “Next time, you’ll listen to my advice—no cold showers, no ice cream. Got it?”

Hyoma smiled weakly and nodded. “Got it. But… I think I’m lucky to have someone who fusses over me this much.”

You leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. “Yes, you are. But if you scare me like this again, I’ll pour that tea over your head!” you teased, and both of you chuckled.

The moment Hyoma caught the scent of the lemon tea you’d made, he grimaced. Sniffing lightly, he stared at the cup.

“Ugh! What is this? It smells like medicine,” he whined.

Rolling your eyes, you held the cup out to him. “It doesn’t smell like medicine—it smells like healing. Drink it. It’ll help your stomach.”

Hyoma gave the cup a skeptical look before turning to you with raised eyebrows. “Are you really going to make me endure this? Lemon tea… My stomach’s already crying.”

Crossing your arms, you were on the verge of losing your patience. “Hyoma, are you a child? Drink the tea. Or would you prefer to throw up again?”

Reluctantly, Hyoma brought the cup to his lips but paused again as the smell hit him.

“But this… this… smells like poison, Y/N! Can’t we try something else? Like water? Or… maybe something with chocolate?”

Frowning again, you grabbed the cup from his hands, took a sip, and handed it back. “Look, I’m drinking it, and nothing’s happening. Forget the chocolate—lemon tea works wonders for your stomach. Now be a good boy and drink it.”

Hyoma sighed and took a reluctant sip of the tea, his face twisting in disgust. “It tastes even worse than it smells! Do you really love me, Y/N? This feels like torture.”

You laughed and ruffled his hair. “Yes, I love you. But when you don’t take care of yourself, you deserve a little bit of torture. Now, drink a little more, and I’ll give you a kiss.”

Hyoma grinned weakly, lifting the cup again. “So there’s a reward… Alright, alright. I’m drinking it just for your kiss, not for any other reason!” he said, starting to finish the tea.

Shaking your head with a smile, you teased him. “You go on and on about my love for you. Now finish that tea and earn your reward.”

Watching Hyoma grimace as he held the cup, you added, “I’ll grab you some salted crackers. They’ll help. You drink; I’ll be right back,” and headed to the kitchen.

Hyoma glanced at the cup and sighed. “What a tea… At least the crackers will save the day,” he muttered, taking another small sip and grimacing again but continuing to drink.

When you returned with a plate full of crackers, you sat down beside him and placed the plate on the bedside table. “Here, these are like a miracle for your stomach. Eat a couple after the tea, and you’ll feel better.”

Hyoma reached for a cracker and popped it into his mouth. “These are better! You should’ve just started with the crackers, not the tea. We could’ve fixed my stomach with these.”

Laughing, you gently messed up his hair. “The tea is necessary. But let me tell you—if you keep whining, there won’t be any reward.”

Hyoma squinted at the cup, then at you. “Alright, alright… I can’t give up on the reward. I’m finishing it,” he said, downing the rest of the tea in one go. He closed his eyes and grimaced but took a deep breath afterward. “Done! You wanted it, and I drank it!”

Smiling at his effort, you leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Good job, my good boy. Now rest a little. Let me know if you need anything else—I’m right here.”

Hyoma leaned his head back and gave you a small, grateful smile. “It’s impossible not to get better with you around. But I still don’t like the tea—just saying!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Get a little better, and I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”

Hyoma winked. “Then I’m recovering quickly!”

For the next half hour, you stayed by his side, occasionally checking his forehead for a fever and growing more worried whenever you noticed his pale complexion.

“How’s your stomach now? Your face is still so pale,” you asked, your voice filled with concern. Hyoma turned his head slightly, smiling faintly.

“Better… but my stomach still feels strange. Like a rock is sitting in it.”

When you reached for his hands, their coldness startled you. “Your hands are freezing too,” you said with a worried frown, holding them tightly to warm them.

Hyoma shrugged slightly. “I don’t know… Maybe I just caught a chill. But with you here, I’ll get better quickly.”

Glaring at him lightly, you muttered, “If you take such little care of yourself, it’ll be hard to get better. Who knows what you did to end up like this.” Without letting go of his hands, you leaned back on the bed, pulling Hyoma closer to you.

“Lie down for a bit. Don’t think I’m leaving. I’m staying right here,” you added, your eyes never leaving him as you held his hands tightly in yours. Hyoma smiled with gratitude at your warm care.

“I’m lucky,” he said, his voice tired but full of affection. “No one’s ever taken care of me like this before.”