Tokyo Yandere Girlfriend

Chapter 31

After finishing their ramen, Hojo Suzune insisted on taking the open-air gondola so she could snap a selfie with Shiratori Seiya while suspended in mid-air. Afraid the camera might slip and tumble to the valley below, she fired off a burst of shots on her phone.

She laughed the whole ride down, but the moment she stepped onto solid ground the mountain chill hit her. She hugged her arms to her chest, teeth chattering.

Seiya's brows drew together. He reached out and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. No fever—he exhaled in relief—then his tone turned stern.

"Are you going to behave from now on?"

Suzune clenched her jaw, rubbing furiously at her goose-bumped arms. "I-I'm not cold."

"...Right."

Seiya gave up and tugged her toward his car. Once inside he cranked the heater to full. Suzune thawed, grew quiet, and stared out the passenger-side window.

"Where to now?" Seiya asked, glancing at her profile.

She turned, cheeks still pink, and smiled. "To your place."

"Eh?"

"I live alone," Seiya reminded her. "There's nothing fun to do there."

"Oh, come on..." Suzune pointed to the paper bag on the back seat. "I need somewhere to change clothes, Seiya."

Her eyes narrowed playfully. "Besides, even if it's boring, I want to see your apartment... I'll have to get used to the atmosphere if we're getting married someday."

Her smile vanished. A sudden thought struck; her brows folded into an angry V and her fists tightened. Voice trembling, she asked, "You haven't started... living with someone, have you?"

Seiya flicked on the turn signal, merging into traffic. "What if I have? College couples do it all the time. Sharing rent saves money."

Suzune's pupils shrank. She bit her lip and looked away.

That damned vixen—how dare she move in so fast? Suzune's heart burned with acid jealousy. How could Shione be so stupid? Living together and she didn't even know?

She spun back toward Seiya. "Y-you can't move in with someone!"

"Why not? Plenty of couples in uni cohabitate—"

"But you just met her! You don't know anything about her. I'm not saying she's bad, but you should at least get to know her first."

"You said yourself she's after money. What if she empties your wallet and leaves you broke? And if there's an 'accident' you'll be stuck for life—"

"If you're short on rent you could've told me. I'd borrow from my Older Sister. If she says no, I'll take a part-time job—"

The more she spoke, the more pathetic she felt. Her voice cracked, close to tears. "How could you move in together..."

At the red light Seiya glanced over. Seeing her on the verge of sobbing, he decided the teasing had gone far enough.

"But, Suzune, I never said I was living with anyone."

"Eh?!"

Her sorrow froze mid-sniffle. "Then what you said earlier—"

"You're the one who brought it up. I never claimed I'd moved in. And were you seriously planning to support me?"

Her face flushed scarlet. She turned away, mortified. "Jerk. I'm ignoring you."

...

"I'm coming in~" Suzune sang at the threshold, as though announcing herself to an invisible rival, then darted inside.

She wrinkled her nose and sniffed. Plain air—no strange perfume—relief swept through her. Still wary, she scanned the shoe rack while toeing off her sneakers, then did a slow lap of the apartment. Only after confirming Seiya lived alone did she finally exhale.

So the vixen hasn't crossed the threshold yet.

Seiya watched her little-detective routine with amusement. "Finished your inspection? No intruders?"

"Hmph. Liar."

Suzune lifted the paper bag and met his eyes. "Bathroom. I want a shower. How does your shower work?"

"I don't keep many girly products around," Seiya warned.

"Skipping body lotion once won't kill me. I'm not that delicate."

"Fair enough."

He led her to the bathroom. Though it was a single, the tub was oversized—Seiya had chosen the unit specifically for soaking after kendo practice. He explained the taps, the bath salts, the fan.

"Want a bath? I can run the water; we've got time."

"No, a quick rinse is fine..." Suzune turned him around and nudged him out. "Don't come in—I'm locking the door."

Seiya sighed. "Do I look like some kind of pervert?"

"Dummy." She poked her tongue out—pink tip flashing—then shut the door with a soft click. She'd carried even the kimono in with her.

Water hissed. Seiya checked the time: if Suzune took her usual forever-plus-five-minutes, the cake should arrive right on cue.

After all, he'd watched her grow up alongside Shione. She'd trekked all the way to Tokyo—of course he'd planned something for her coming-of-age day. The cake was pre-ordered, the fireworks bought at painful expense, the pyrotechnician booked for dusk. He'd scouted rooftops and parks; the display would be visible no matter where they stood.

Three o'clock now. By the time Suzune finished and dressed it would be close to five. Cake, then fireworks—barely passing, but still a celebration.

Seiya settled on the couch and scrolled through his phone.

Minutes stretched. Suzune had claimed "just a quick rinse," yet the water ran for over half an hour. Then came the whirr of a hair-dryer. Another thirty minutes later the bathroom door creaked open.

Pat-pat—bare feet on tile.

Seiya looked up.

The first things he noticed were her small, dewy toes. His gaze traveled upward: the hem of the kimono revealed slender, snow-white legs. Under the warm lights her skin looked like porcelain, so delicate he could trace the faint blue veins beneath.

Suzune had only draped the kimono over herself; the obi still hung loose, the waist billowing.

"Seiya, could you help me tie the obi?"

She pressed one palm to her chest, the other holding the wide belt, lashes glistening as she pleaded.

That look said, loud and clear: It's my birthday wish.

Had it been his imagination, or were her cheeks even pinker than at noon, touched with something almost feverish?

A formal kimono isn't like a yukata—you can't put it on by yourself.

She had clearly expected him to help from the start.

Shiratori Seiya had seen it coming. Stepping behind her, he murmured, "I might be out of practice."

"Mm..."

Maybe the kimono stifled her usual energy; Hojo Suzune seemed quieter than before. He took the obi from her hand, his fingers brushing hers. They were ice-cold. Seiya paused, brows knitting.

"Why are your hands so cold?"

Suzune tucked them quickly against her cheeks. "Cold? They feel fine."

A moment later she added, almost to herself, "I just came in from outside, that's all. Don't fuss—help me finish. We're supposed to leave soon."

Seiya studied her face, met the bright flicker in her eyes, and finally threaded the obi around her slender waist. It had been years since he'd dressed anyone in kimono, so he'd refreshed his memory on his phone; still, the process was clumsy, though the knot held in the end.

That wasn't all. He twisted her hair into a simple top-knot—something he'd done countless times for Xiao Shione, so it came easily now.

Suzune turned, stood before him, and tilted her head with a dazzling smile. In that instant she shed every trace of awkwardness; the poised young woman who faced him seemed entirely new.

Seiya's breath caught. She's grown into a true lady, he thought.

Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong.

The doorbell rang, pulling him back. "Hold on," he called, and hurried to open it.

---

Suzune watched in silence as Seiya set the cake on the table, planted the candles, and switched off the living-room lights. The sun hadn't quite set, yet the candlelight alone was enough to make the room feel like a birthday. Two small flames painted their faces gold.

Seiya smiled. "All right—make a wish."

Suzune bit her lip, holding back the sudden sting in her eyes. "I never said I wanted cake. I already made a wish, you know."

"Already?"

"At the little shrine halfway up Mount Takao."

"Then make another. Birthday wishes are unlimited."

She pressed her lips together. "Fine."

She folded her hands, closed her eyes, and seconds later blew out every candle in one breath. Click—Seiya turned the lights back on and produced a small wooden box from his pocket.

"Happy birthday, Suzune."

She didn't speak; her gaze was fixed on the necklace inside. A short knife carved from jade—nothing fancy—threaded on a red cord.

"May every year bring you peace and health," Seiya added.

Even biting her lip couldn't stop the tears. Suzune nodded hard, inhaled, and steadied her voice. "Then take a picture for me?" She fastened the necklace at her throat. "I'll get my camera—"

"Your phone's fine."

When she'd settled into a pose, Seiya raised his phone. Click. He took several shots, chose the best, and handed it over. "How's this?"

"Perfect."

But the moment she spoke her smile vanished. Her brows knit; she pressed a hand to her forehead and swayed.

Seiya caught her shoulders before she fell. Her cheeks were flushed with fever. He touched her brow, then his own. Not dangerously hot, but definitely a temperature.

Seriously? I just wished her good health and she's running a fever.

He helped her to the sofa. "Wait here—I'll get the first-aid kit."

Suzune nodded, half-lidded eyes following him until he left the room.

The instant he was gone she exhaled, pulled out his phone, and fought the dizziness. First she downloaded an app from her chat window and hid it. Then she opened his contacts...

Swipe, swipe—her finger stopped on "Takahashi Mio."