#tway

Please remind me to never write for this series at night. I apparently played mind tricks on myself & got too scared to sleep after writing it.

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“You always seem to forget your lunch,” Jushiro sounded behind you as you had already left the loft to head to work. You looked down at your hands; they were empty, but you remembered your bag, which was what mattered. You turned to look at him with a smile.

“At least you work for me now, so I don’t have to worry about forgetting,” but you didn't talk more. You just hurried him to follow you. “We have an old case to review for this week. The higher-ups think my reasoning is too outrageous, so they want a thorough explanation.” You mumbled angrily, your workplace was a 20-minute walk at best. 

“You don't have to be running!” He calls out, but he isn't tired at all; in fact, he's caught up to your speed completely. You've been in the military for a few years, and you recognize a fighter when you meet one. He just didn't strike you as one, “Are we late or something?”

“No, I just wanted to get out of this heat,” you grumbled. As the two of you arrive at the building, your badges are fine, but Jushiro is held back because his badge has not been fully processed. 

“You go on ahead, I know where your office is,” Jushiro reassured you with a smooth smile. 

“You're so reliable,” you smiled, heading into the building. Your idea was to finish work early so you could go home early instead of answering questions from the rest of your team about how your roommate got the job over someone else with a degree. You pushed past everyone with the excuse that you had a lot of work, which you do have. 

As you rushed into the morgue in the basement, you changed into your lab coat, putting on a mask and goggles to prevent stinging. Jushiro joined you as you pulled out reports and the body from the freezer. “Come help me carry this body to the table.” You ordered as he got changed into protective gear. 

He helps you place the well-preserved body on the metallic table. “I thought this was already solved? I recall seeing the report yesterday,” you hum at the accuracy of his memory. 

“The higher-ups don't believe me when I say that it was a murder of a pair because they couldn't find the wife,” you responded. Handing the camera to Jushiro, “Take pictures according to what I point at.” He nods, and you hold a voice recorder to your mouth to explain the situation. 

You point to the stained blood trail from the eyes, “the patient had their eyes melted out by a strong chemical, most likely battery acid, as I've tested the remaining substance to be found in your local gas station battery acid. I suspect they've spent hundreds to thousands to procure a strong enough substance.” You spoke as the recorder transcribed your words into text. You undo the stitches to the victim's neck, pointing at the holes along the trachea with part of the lower trachea bursting out, “this type of injury would be related to swallowing something sharp like chicken bones, fish bones,” you were pointing at the scarring. You pointed at the bursting with uneven stab wounds, “these wounds correlate with needles, the uneven stabbing would be forcing the victim to swallow the needles using the remaining battery acid.” You pointed at the burned ends of the organs as they led down to his stomach. “The explosion of organ mush seen here,” you spoke as you reopened the stitched up body, “would be a mixture of battery acid, with stomach acid, the explosion could be done by forcing the victim to eat flour, as flour met with the burning of two acids can cause an explosion.” You went to pull out the message in a bottle you had received as evidence from the detectives who visited the victim's house to ask questions. 

You told Jushiro to take a picture as you explained the contents, “This was found in the victim's house. Although it seemed like a confession from the wife of the victim, if you compare it to the sticky notes the wife writes down for her husband, the handwriting differs, which shows the wife does not plan it.” You put the evidence away and pull out a list of reports from neighbors, along with evidence from the officers who had ventured into the home. “The initial crime was done at home. The victim was knocked out, but the neighbors said that the victim knew the person who knocked them out. When the wife walked out, there was a fight and blood splatter, as the blood collected did not match the victim's.” You flip through reports, “I concluded that there was two victims because there was enough blood in the bathtub belonging to the wife, found in the bathtub, meaning she was bled dry. Now, it's up to the detectives to find the obsessed ex-girlfriend.” You concluded, but as you glanced at Jushiro, he raised his hand quizzically, “Yes, what is it, Jushiro?”

“How did you know it was the ex-girlfriend and not someone else?”

You looked at him for a second before a smile curled on your face, continuing to explain to the recorder, “This is an old tale from Ancient Japan, it's called Yubikiri Genman. The whole vow is actually: yubikiri genman, uso tsuitara hari senbon nomasu. Roughly translating, it means: ‘pinky promise, if you lie, you will swallow a thousand needles.’” You explained, “we found a thousand needles lodged in the victim's throat and some in his stomach. I say it's an ex because some of the neighbors heard a female voice saying the victim ghosted her and got married.” Unfortunately, this is one of many reasons you didn't have the heart to settle down. “Any more questions?”

Jushiro shook his head, taking a few more pictures to print out for you, “You're very thorough.”

As you were taking off your protective gear, stitching the victim back up, and having Jushiro help you put the body back into the freezer, you grinned a little, “it's part of the job description. I like not having to risk my life catching them.” Also, because you were solving a cold case in your free time, once you deal with the issues at hand, you could do whatever you wanted to anyway—two birds, one stone, in your opinion at least. 

“Didn't want to be a doctor or nurse?”

“Nah,” you made sure the recorder had shut off before you continued to talk, “I had bad experiences in the hospital when I was younger, I think I would like to avoid the place.” You sat down to edit the document, dragging the images from the camera to your document as you spoke. Jushiro was cleaning up the room, “If anything, I wanted to be a florist, but that's not how my life is intended.”

“This is a big 180 for you, then,” Jushiro laughed. 

The tips of your ears heated up from his laughter, “y-yeah, I suppose it is, but I like my job now. It's pretty interesting.”

“I'm glad I asked to be an assistant, I used to know hardly anything about you until now,” he smiled. 

“Just not interested in sharing about me, I don't lead an interesting life,” you leaned back into your chair, your eyes met his emerald green ones.

His smile was gentle and filled with joy. “Your life is interesting to me.”

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Sadly, I have more of a One Piece muse, so ideas been coming in slow.

HI TWAYTWAYYYY<333

BNX TWAY

DOWNLOAD

I finally figured out how to schedule my pieces.

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Like waves crashing ashore, the sound of the waves hitting the rocks pulled him back to reality, his lover in his arms, a protective embrace against her weakening body. Dread washed over him as waves clashed loudly against the landscape. A tear rolls down his emerald hues as the dullness of her eyes glances up at him. A smile never faltering at the face of danger nor pain, the color fading fast from her eyes, “can you hear my heart cry?” Jushiro whispered, his grip tightened around her.

Breathlessly, she reached a hand up to cup his face, his rigid body trembled beneath her cold touch, “this time, I can’t lead you home.” Her voice was soft, oblivious of the pain that followed after him to hear those words come out of her mouth. He wasn’t sure what led up to it, but whatever it was, he didn’t forgive it. “Don’t cry, ‘Shiro,” her voice etched into his mind as he did his best to memorize her features, her smiles despite the pain, her voice despite it escaping her cold body, “let me memorize your looks one last time…” he chokes down a sob, holding her closer to his body, as if holding her tightly would give her a breath of life back. 

If he had known this was going to happen, he would have confessed sooner than wait until she was ready, but there was no medicine to take away the regret. The reality was that he was still too weak to protect her, and all of that came crashing down onto his spirit. 

“I’m cold,” heavy-lidded as sleep lulled at her, “I wish spring came sooner,” her hand was slipping off his face, falling lifelessly on her abdomen as the waves crashed once more, washing away his warmth and her breath. 

The world quaked before him. For a second, he wanted to give up; he tried to follow after her. The world faded to black, and he jolted awake from his nightmare, his widened eyes glancing up at the person who had shaken him awake - his roommate. Cold sweat ran down his features, replaced with a relieved smile. She wipes away his tears apologetically, “I guess listening to sad songs while driving does do something to people, huh?” 

Hearing her voice was a relief, full of life and full of energy. A nightmare as harsh and vivid as that gnawed at him. What if it was a premonition that something bad was going to happen? He sighed a little, placing his hand over hers, leaning into her touch and apology. He glanced at her with a smile as he shifted to place a kiss on her palm, “I’m okay, whatever puts you at ease.” 

He watched her process his actions, and he watched her heat up as she jerked her hand away out of embarrassment. He laughed as she tried to explain her reasoning behind choosing certain songs while driving. His heart calms as he watches her interact with him, “any-anyways, we’re home,” her voice drew down to a whisper, he gets out of the car first, moving over to open the door for her, “thank you and sorry about the song choice, I just–” 

“I get it, you don’t have to explain yourself, I’m not upset or anything,” it only stirred a fear deep within him that he preferred to keep hidden. Now, his body was on high alert, worried that something was going to happen. Hopefully, she wouldn’t mind if he paid a little extra attention to her from now on. If anything, it wasn’t his fault, now was it? 

“Did you get the job?” 

“Yes.” 

“I guess I have to switch my playlist around now.” 

“You don’t have to, I’ll get used to it,” he smiles. He will make sure it won’t become a reality.

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I tried my best to make it to his birthday time. I'll update more of the story slowly.

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You and your roommate have been doing great for a few weeks. He’s respected your boundaries and cooks for you—not only dinner but lunch and breakfast. It was a perfect change of pace for you. He said he was a teacher, but you hardly see him grade papers at home. Perhaps it was just as your mentor had said, “Don’t bring your work home; enjoy life.”

As you were walking home, you had picked up a present. If you recall correctly, his birthday was on December 21st. You had to research on your own in case he was a felon. But his rep sheet was clean. Good things do come to you at times. 

While pondering whether you should buy him a birthday cake, you already ordered a light green one. You weren’t sure he would even want to celebrate his birthday with you. But, you constantly find yourself happiest when returning home from work. You always looked forward to going home now that you had a new roommate. 

When you arrived home, there wasn’t much going through your mind, but you had prepared to return to a cold, dark flat. As you opened the door, you were greeted by bright lights and your roommate cooking what smelled like a high-quality dinner, as usual. 

You were shocked but smiled, clearing your throat a little, “I’m home.” It wasn’t your routine to do so; it was more requested by your roommate, who stated that it felt more homey like that. At least it wouldn’t scare him like the first few times you came home from work. 

You watched him turn towards you as you closed the door behind you. His emerald green eyes lit up with joy. " Ah, welcome home! How was work today? Dinner’s ready; I’m just preparing some dessert.” 

Where was he a few years ago when you were looking for a roommate and stumbled upon your toxic ex? You smiled, “The past is the past; at least he’s here now. " Did you come home early? That must have taken you a while to make, and it was such high quality!” 

He was urging you to sit and helping you put your bag down, hang up your coat, and put away the cake you bought for him, but he didn’t pry into it or look at it. “It was an early release. It started to flurry, but now it stopped, did you see?” 

“Ah, no, I’m also not a fan of snow. " To be honest, you were stuck inside doing paperwork for a new assistant because your boss required you to get a new assistant if you didn’t want that promotion. You gave it to your work buddy for that. You also took the time to retrieve the neatly wrapped birthday present you prepared.

He spoke as you were getting ready to wish him a happy birthday, “Did something happen that you’re just not a fan of snow? Is it too personal for me to ask– is this for me?” his eyes lit up as he accepted the gift, “can I open it?” You nodded with a smile. Watching him open it so carefully as if the gift wrapping itself was part of his gift, made your heart skip a beat. It was a light green tie that went well with his plaid outfit that he sometimes wore to work. “I love it, thank you very much.” 

“Happy birthday,” you responded, moving over to also offer him the cake. 

“Thank you, let’s enjoy it together.” 

“Let’s,” you were glad that the topic of your disliking snow was overlooked. But you had a feeling that the two of you would revisit it. But that’s an issue for the future.

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It's been so long, my bad, y'all.

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You went to work happy, despite your midnight rendezvous with thoughts of your roommate in a naughty manner; it seemed like you didn't make too much noise to raise suspicions. As soon as you entered the doors to your office, a sudden dread fell upon your shoulders. Work can be so draining, so much so that you’re reminded that you have yet to find an assistant with a mountain of paperwork on your desk. Begrudgingly, you sat down in your office and began to try to make a dent in your paperwork. 

You weren’t sure how long it had been by the time you got a phone call, so you picked it up to hear your roommate’s voice of concern: “You left your lunch at home, do you want me to drop it off for you?” 

“Did I? It must have slipped my mind,” you were somewhat embarrassed this morning, you could hardly look him in the eye, honestly. “Yeah, it would be great if you dropped it off. I’ll text you my address and the details on how to get in, okay? Thanks.” 

As soon as you got off the call, as you had promised, you sent him your address and the information to give to the front desk so he could enter the government building. You never thought that the security was excessive, but some of your coworkers thought otherwise, and some of your previous assistants had complained. Government jobs can’t be slacking after all. 

You’re unaware of your surroundings the moment you get sucked into your work, so much so that your roommate trying to greet you with your lunch was ignored entirely as your work became the center of your attention. A sudden jolt from your paperwork with a pair of hands on your shoulder telling you to relax, you glanced up from your dumpster fire of work to see your worried roommate calling your name, “You need to rest. At least eat your lunch, I can sort them out from least to most important, how about that?”

“But you don’t–”

“I’ve done paperwork for a long time; this is the least of my worries.” 

You were hesitant, but you took up his offer, taking your time to eat while your roommate sat down in your seat and organized your work. 

“Have you ever thought about getting an assistant?” 

“I have— had a few assistants in the past.”

“What happened to them?” 

You looked up from the bento box of food that your roommate prepared for you, “they complained about too much work for too little pay, I also have a nasty attitude, they say.” You can’t judge that, though; you would probably agree with them since you’re picky about how certain things should be done over others. 

“So, you don’t have one now?” He questioned, and you shook your head. You haven’t wanted to find one in a long time, since they always quit after giving you empty promises. “I’ve been looking to change my job anyway, are you hiring?” 

“I hate to see my roommate, who takes care of all housework chores for me, also have to stress over work with me,” you laughed.

“I don’t mind, it’s been a blast hanging out with you at home, I don’t see why not at work too,” Jushiro knew he was walking on a tight rope with that request, trying his best not to sound desperate to be by your side, but he was desperate to be by your side. 

You thought about it for a while, looking over the paperwork he had been filing for you. You had to admit he was swift about it, and he’s been so helpful for so long. Your brows furrowed at the thought for a bit, “Fine, just go up to the second floor and speak with the head detective. I don’t participate in the hiring process, but if he asks if you’ve spoken to me about it yet, just give him a thumbs up. I’m sure he’ll understand.” 

“After I sort everything, I’ll go talk to the head detective,” Jushiro laughed a little. It’s not as if he had an actual job prior; he only stated that he did so that you wouldn’t be suspicious.

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Do you guys want a discord server to keep me in check or something?

Really short chapter; you guys know me; I like writing the other side of the POV.

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Jushiro couldn't sleep after New Year, and She acted like nothing happened and went about her day as usual. It wasn't like New Year's and Christmas; he learned about her tragic past, and he couldn't help but wonder if his illness passed onto her in this life. Haunted by that guilt, he wanted to do better and care for her. Twisting and turning in bed, at the end of the hour, he decided to get out of bed and make himself some warm milk so he could sleep.

As he walked by her room, he heard a soft moan from her room. Curiously, he stepped closer to listen and recalled that she had come home alone and repeatedly said that she was not into anyone at that moment. She said he couldn't help but wonder if she was also waiting for him.

He felt himself harden as he heard her moan in her room; occasionally, in between her moans, he caught her saying his name, which solidified his thinking that she was fantasizing about him.

The bulge forming in his pants made it hard for him to walk. Instead of walking to the privacy of his room, he stayed outside her closed room. Reaching down to pull out his cock, stroking it gently to the sound of her moans. His stroking quickens as he hears her moans. Loudens and quickens; with his free hand, he covers the tip, using the precum as a lube to rub the tip with.

He's been pent up ever since her passing; he had never thought about touching himself, nor had he ever felt horny. It was only until he moved in with her that these feelings arose. As he felt himself edging closer to his high, he listened close to hear her voice. Hearing her voice stutter as she moaned, his breath hitched too, stroking and rubbing faster before releasing quickly. His ears were burning as he looked at the mess he made. Hearing her head into the shower, he quickly cleaned the area before returning to his room.

He completely forgot that he was going to get milk.

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