I should have never stepped inside that place. Every rational part of my brain screamed at me, neurons firing curses at my idiot self.
Ten years in London, years of study, survival, and learning—all gone out the window in less than ten minutes. And for what? A man. Kaoru Nishimi. Heat incarnate. Dangerous, infuriating, impossible heat that had burned through my wet coat, my trembling limbs, my rational mind, and something… something else I didn't want to name.
I hugged myself tighter, shivering—not just from the rain but from the memory. Hands trembling, knees wobbling, I muttered to no one in particular, pacing the slick Tokyo streets. "I… I survived… barely. Straight! Brain! Rational! Alien-born! Why is Tokyo like this?!"
The drizzle plastered my coat to my skin, making every movement a reminder of my damp, exhausted state. Neon signs reflected in puddles, broken into infinite shards, mocking me. Each blur of a passerby felt like a predator, their laughter or footsteps echoing in my ears like judgment. I couldn't decide if the city was alive or conspiring against me.
I stumbled over a slick curb, heart hammering. And then—a car. Ordinary, mundane, perfect. Its headlights cut through the mist like salvation. Relief surged so sharply I almost howled, legs finally obeying the desperate pull of hope. Suitcase bouncing behind me, lungs burning, I ran toward it like a drowning man toward a life preserver.
Inside… it was him. Hiroshi. My brother. My anchor. Normal. Human. Somehow calming in a city that had just tried to kill me with temptation. He carried shopping bags, probably from a mall visit, and froze as he registered my drenched, disheveled, frantic state.
"God… heard me this time!!" I squeaked, voice cracking from laughter, panic, and tears all at once. "My brother! I missed you! Save me! Take me away from here! Or I'll—" My words broke into gasps, running together as tears blurred my vision.
Hiroshi blinked. Once. Twice. Then laughter escaped him despite his effort to restrain it. "Hiroshima… what happened to you?"
"I—I was walking! I asked for a hotel! Rain! Phone dead! And then… I ended up in a place… and there was a man, younger, hotter than anyone should exist, and—and—he touched me! I'm straight! Rational! But the candles—oh God, the candles—they moved like predators! I thought I'd die! Or… transformed into some alien species born today!"
Hiroshi's brow lifted, furrowed, and then a grin spread across his face. "Wait… you actually went inside a… pleasure house?"
"I didn't know! Pavilion Eight! It looked normal! I—" I groaned, dropping my face into my hands. My wet hair stuck to my forehead. Shivering like a soaked, frightened cat, I whispered through my teeth, "And the way he… he moved… my body… my brain… oh, it's like they were conspiring together! My rational brain left the building before I even knew it!"
Hiroshi laughed, shaking his head. "Conspiring with your body, huh? Only you could wander into chaos like that and somehow survive it."
"Exactly! Alien-born today! Brain fried! Hands useless! Chest on fire! All in the name of… survival? And oh God—the smell of cologne! The warmth! The candlelight plotting against me!" My words tumbled out, incoherent, desperate, barely tethered to reality.
"C'mon, idiot," Hiroshi said, opening the car door. "Get in. You're soaked, shivering, and look like you survived a small apocalypse of temptation. At least in the car, no one can audition you tonight."
I stumbled inside, suitcase clattering, arms wrapped around myself. "God, Hiroshi… I almost… I can't… that man—he's… he's—ugh, everything! Too hot! Dangerous! Too much!"
He ruffled my rain-matted hair. "Shh… calm down. You survived. That's the important part. And yes… probably the hottest thing that could have happened tonight. No judgment here. Much."
"My brain… fried! My chest… aflame! Hands useless! Dignity… questionable!" I buried my face in my hands, trembling. "I… I survived only because of sheer luck! Rational thought? Gone! Total short-circuit! Alien instincts—maybe the only thing that saved me!"
Hiroshi pulled the seatbelt over me. "Relax. You're alive. Virginity intact. Dignity… mostly intact. And if anyone asks, I'll tell them you were attacked by a rainstorm and a decade of bad judgment."
Through my fingers, I peeked at him. Small laugh escaping, half-crying. "Hiroshi… I feel like an alien. Born today. Thrown into a strange world. Survived only because you exist. And my chest… oh, my chest… I feel like it's still burning!"
"You'll survive," he said, starting the engine. "But maybe next time, just stay outside. Rain, neon signs… not every hotel is what it seems. Some are… special. And some… will make your brain explode while flattering your eyes and body in ways no rational human can handle."
I shivered again, the memory of Kaoru's heat, touch, and impossibly magnetic presence lingering like a phantom. And then—fear settled in, tight, nagging. What if Kaoru saw me again? What if he remembered me? Worse, what if… what if he sought me out? The thought made my stomach twist and pulse thrum in a rhythm that was both thrilling and terrifying. I clenched my fists in my lap. No, no, I could not think about that. I had survived. I had escaped. Rational thought had returned—mostly.
But my mind betrayed me. I could still feel the warmth of his hand, the pressure of his body, the teasing brush of lips near my ear. Every nerve screamed at me: he knew me now. He knew how weak I could be. How exposed. How… human.
"God… I almost got fried! Or kissed! Or… something worse! Why is the world like this?" I muttered, voice tight, gripping the edge of the seat.
Hiroshi glanced at me, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "Because you're lucky. Lucky I found you in this… state. Wet, shivering, muttering like a newborn alien who just learned human anatomy exists. You're ridiculous. And hilarious."
We arrived home. I stumbled inside like a drowned, lost child. Hiroshi guided me to the sofa, fussing, pulling my suitcase aside, muttering, "Sit. Warm up. Drink something hot. And stop babbling about the alien apocalypse for one second."
I clung to him anyway, muttering about shadows, candles, heat, and Kaoru Nishimi like a cautionary tale. My chest still burned, and my mind refused to stop playing images and sensations over and over. What had I done to attract him? What if the next time, I wouldn't escape?
He sat beside me, arm around my shoulder, smirking. "It's okay. You're alive. Safe. Still my annoying little brother. Fever or no fever, you're still mine to fuss over."
Somewhere between trembling, shivering, and laughing-crying because my mind had short-circuited, I realized: I survived chaos, embarrassment, panic… and maybe something else. Desire, curiosity, adrenaline. And somehow, I'd finally found safety. My brother, my anchor, had caught me before I completely fell apart.
And yet, deep down, I knew the night wasn't over—not in memory, not in my pulse, not in curiosity.
Because Kaoru Nishimi was real. And Tokyo… Tokyo had only just begun to test me.
And somewhere in the back of my mind, a single, nagging thought kept whispering: I hope I never see him again… but what if I do?