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“So, to conclude: Yae Publishing House quarterlies are up across the board–thank you, team–but we’re seeing the most growth and potential in the adult pub vertical. With this in mind we’re going to increase our targets for the adult content team and provide additional resources according to Miss Yae’s direction to help you guys meet those targets. I’m very proud of all of your hard work, and I look forward to seeing even more growth next quarter!
“In the meantime, before we wrap up and get out of here for the week, do any of you have questions about today’s meeting or anything else? Unless you have something to add, Miss Yae?”
Miko immediately shakes her head in Makoto’s direction before adding, “Nothing from me, Miss Raiden.”
God, she hopes this meeting can end now. The godawful white walls of the conference room have turned prickling discomfort into a pounding headache and the thought of a nice bath is the only thing keeping her sane.
“Um, Miss Raiden?” A bright, painfully familiar voice chips from the back of the room.
Fucking hell, of course she’d pipe up like a wannabe teacher’s pet. As if Makoto would agree with any of her worthless commentary. Miko grits her teeth and strains against the urge to slam her forehead into her desk.
Sangonomiya Kokomi, of course, looks right past Miko’s pained expression, oblivious as can be.
“I just worry about the company image if we’re going to start publishing and marketing more adult materials? I totally understand the numbers behind it, but I just want to make sure if we’re gonna shift resources we do it in a tactful way…” Sangonomiya trails off for a moment, filling the room with sweet, sanguine silence that is golden to Miko’s ears. Not for long, though, as Sangonomiya’s irritating voice fills the void again, “And especially with Chief Editor Yae in charge of the project… I don’t want our image to become tarnished, you know?”
Miko grits her teeth. Could this bitch get any more insufferable? As if Makoto doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing.
“Well, Miss Sangonomiya, you certainly raise a good point; I’ll make sure to tap some marketing folks in for oversight on the project.” Makoto’s firm but gentle voice accompanied by a sweep of her hand says there’s to be no more discussion but–for fuck’s sake, oversight? She wasn’t supposed to agree with Sangonomiya’s inane bullshit! God, Miko needs to get out of here fast.
Rubbing her temples, she manages to tune out the rest of the conversation until she hears Makoto say, “dismissed, have a good weekend everyone!”
Miko slowly lifts her head to gaze around the room at everyone packing up, before her eyes stop on Sangonomiya still furiously tapping away at her laptop– she’s always the last to leave meetings, although Miko can’t fathom what she stays behind to do, and a privacy screen combined with always finding the corner of the room means she’s never managed to see what she’s actually working on.
She pulls out her phone and quickly responds to a couple emails before gazing up again to find the room empty, except for Sangonomiya, still tapping away at god knows what. Her mouth curls into a wicked grin as she slumps back in her chair, plans of a nice bath replaced with something much more urgent.
As discreetly as she can, Miko stands from the chair and pads around the conference room to the bay of windows facing the rest of the office. She draws the blinds, dims the light, and clicks the lock on the door shut before turning back to Sangonomiya, who is still blissfully ignorant.
Oh, Miko is looking forward to this.
She walks towards her insufferable editor until she towers over her, and makes to gently shut the laptop while Sangonomiya is still typing. The second she starts to bend the screen Sangonomiya flinches and gasps, startled. Miko delights in the way Sangonomiya’s pupils dilate as she bends over further, looking everywhere except to meet her eyes.
Now to get her to talk.
“Well, I believe this is a conversation I’ve been meaning to have with you for a while, Miss Sangonomiya...” Miko snarls out, dragging the syllables of her name.
Sangonomiya seems to unfreeze and shuts her eyes for a moment before hardening her expression and snapping out, “what conversation? What do we possibly have to talk about?”
Miko chuckles a cold, emotionless laugh, “a conversation where I tell you exactly how god damn insufferable you are, and how much harder you make my work.” Miko sneers at her, using all of the height difference available to shrink Sangonomiya further into her chair. “Oh, and this is a conversation where you actually listen to what I have to say, instead ignoring my fucking emails.”
Sangonomiya glares at her like a stubborn puppy, and her voice is hard when she finally responds, “really? Why would I listen to you when you’re the one who wants to turn us into an erotica publisher?”
“Do you ever listen to yourself to know how ridiculous you sound? A fucking porn publisher because we’re targetting more adult material?” Miko scoffs.
“Yes! I do! If my desire was to work on erotica I’d be editing Sarah J. Maas, for fucks sake!” Kokomi’s voice heats into a yell that echoes around the walls of the conference room.
Miko smiles, the brewing irritation countered only by the satisfaction of pulling a curse from the uptight bitch. “If you got off your fucking high horse you’d realize that you’re not gonna be editing any god damn porn,” she sneers, “especially not after that mess you left me with My Boss is a Hypnotist and I Can’t Help Myself From Falling in Love With Her! I lost two fucking weekends to that, you know?”
Sangonomiya meets her eyes, finally, her volume rising, “well, I don’t see it as my fault that your writer handed in a draft of glorified dead dove garbage, and then had the gall to reject all of my edits!”
Miko laughs, the ice replaced with pure venom. Sangonomiya just huffs out a breath, indignant and haughty as ever.
“Dead dove, huh? That’s a pretty interesting way of describing it, Kokomi...” Only as she drags out the syllables of her name does Sangonomiya seem to recognize what she’s done, eyes widening.
Miko half-expects her to bolt out of the room, but she stays, frozen in place, jaw hanging.
She decides it’s time to go for the kill.
“I think that maybe you’re so fucking obsessed with this puritanical bullshit because you’re too much of a little bitch to just admit you like it.” She drops her voice an octave, “or maybe it’s because you’ve been secretly waiting for me to corner you just… like… this, hmm?”
Sangonomiya’s eyes narrow as she spits out her denial. “Sounds to me like you’re the one who’s obsessed, freak.”
“I bet you’d like me to be, bitch.”
“W-What do you mean?” Sangonomiya finally seems to be off balance, and that definitely isn’t the rejection she’s trying for.
Miko grins cruelly.
“I think it’s a little odd how you always have to be as fucking puritanical as possible and yet you don’t let anyone see your own writing, hmm? I wonder if your scrapbook is filled with exactly the kind of shit you crusade against. No, it’s probably worse, isn’t it”
“What the fuck are you implying, Miss Yae?” Sangonomiya tries to fight back, but the edge is gone from her voice, replaced by a fearful wobble.
“I’m implying that you’re a fucking pervert who spends her nights fantasizing about the exact shit you spend oh-so-much time railing against, bitch.”
“W-What? No!”
“Want to show me what’s in your little scrapbook, then, or are you a fucking coward who can’t even admit when she’s caught?”
“I don’t have to show you shit!” Sangonomiya squeaks, her composure gone.
“Yeah, a fucking coward who can’t admit that her scrapbook is filled with disgusting, erotic fanfiction of the so-very-innocent stories she edits. Isn’t that right, Kokomi?
Thick, hazy silence fills the room, and Miko thinks that maybe she’s overstepped, that Kokomi will finally get up and run like the coward she is and it’ll all be over. Instead though, her jaw just hangs down and her cheeks flame red. Miko stares at her, expectant, as Kokomi shakes her head and focuses on the floor, but no sound escapes.
Miko scoffs.
“Oh my fucking god. No. Is that why you left that mess with My Boss is a Hypnotist and I Can’t Help Myself From Falling in Love With Her! ?” It was almost too easy now.
Every word of the absurd title is a bomb, detonated by the snap of Kokomi’s jaw shutting, puncturing the thick silence that had settled between them.
Miko chuckles, mirthless, and backs away from Kokomi carefully, like she’ll scare at a sudden movement. With a pair of azure eyes glued to her every move, she props herself onto the edge of the conference table, and delicately unclips a heavy earring.
Holding it by the hook, she leans down and dangles the earring in front of Kokomi’s face, the sudden rush of power spurring her on.
“Look at the amethyst.” Miko commands.
Kokomi’s eyes fly up to her, a confused “what?” on her tongue.
But her eyes are already locked onto the purple gem, and Miko smiles wickedly as she starts swaying it back and forth very slowly, delighting in the way Kokomi's eyes track it.
(…)
Kokomi can’t look away from the little smudge of purple gently swaying in her vision.
“Attagirl, keep tracking it. You’re doing such a good job.” Miss Yae’s voice sounds a little distant now, but the praise feels nice.
She forces herself to look away every couple of seconds, but her eyes immediately snap back onto it no matter where she forces herself to look. She feels so tense, like she’d snap in half if someone were to push her.
“God you’re so fucking high-strung it’s insufferable. Take a fucking deep breath, would you?” The edge in Miss Yae’s voice only adds to the fuzzy feeling slowly starting to fill Kokomi’s head, and she does as exactly she’s told.
She sucks a deep breath in, holding it until the amethyst starts to sway the other direction, and then slowly breathes it out.
“Good. Again, but release the tension in your muscles when you exhale, priss bitch.”
Kokomi obeys, feeling the tension release from her body with the breath. Fuck, it feels nice to relax. She’s had such a shit week and Miss Yae’s bullshit was the last thing she needed.
Well, that’s what she’d thought, at least. Another deep breath. She’s not so sure of anything now, except that she can still see the purple. Another. And that she really hates Miss Yae.
“For someone who has such a fucking issue with me, you sure relaxed fast, didn’t you?” The venom is still in Miss Yae’s voice, and it irritates the fuck out of Kokomi but she can’t find the words to express that, so she just glares instead. “I asked you a question, bitch. Or maybe you’re too stupid to answer like this?”
“Fuck off.” Her voice comes out all soft. Shit. When did that happen? When did it get so much harder to keep her eyes on the purple? Why is she still trying? Fuck, what was she even mad about? Her brain feels like cotton. She feels so tired. So relaxed.
“You’re going to be fucking honest with me, now. Take another deep breath if you understand, bitch.” The sharp tone cuts through the cotton and she complies, relaxing even further into the exhale. The purple stops moving, but she doesn’t much mind.
“You can do better than that. Again.”
She does.
“Another.”
It feels so nice. Like floating.
“Another.”
She’s never taken breaths like these before. The air is so nice. So comfortable.
Miko stops talking, and Kokomi keeps breathing, at peace.
She hears Miko slide against the table, and distantly wonders if she’s leaving. Maybe she’d done something wrong? But she’s done everything she’s been asked to. Oh well. She takes another deep breath and lets the cotton drown everything else out.
“Now, Kokomi, you’re going to tell me the whole truth, right?” Miko’s voice is closer, now.
“Yeah... sure...” Kokomi replies, quiet and pliable. It’s a lie. But it feels so nice to say yes to her. She smiles at the fuzzy feeling.
“You’re going to tell me the entire truth without leaving any details out.” It’s not a question.
“Mhm,” Kokomi assents.
“You will answer all of my questions completely truthfully, without hiding anything or lying to me.”
“Yeah.” Kokomi feels like she’s already agreed, but she says yes again anyways.
“You’re going to respond to all my questions with the truth, no matter what.”
“Yes.” Kokomi feels so tired. It’s so much work to speak, but agreeing feels good.
“Good. Now wake up, bitch. Open your fucking eyes, you should know it’s impolite to fall asleep at work.”
Kokomi doesn’t want to. It’s so comfortable here. But Miko keeps insisting, so she blinks her eyes open. She didn’t even know they were closed. Fuck.
She gazes up into Miss Yae and cold dread hits her like a slap.
“How are you feeling, Kokomi?”
Kokomi thinks Miss Yae’s smile looks like it’s going to eat her alive. She wants to call her a freak. Wants to run away.
Instead she just replies, “good, relaxed.” Slowly, calmly, without thinking about the words. Fuck. What the fuck. Shit.
Kokomi sees the glimmer of amethyst on the table next to Miss Yae and the cold dread coalesces into a terrifying realization.
She’d been hypnotized.
Fuck. Miss Yae had hypnotized her.
She needed to leave. She was fucking compromised. Couldn’t remember shit about what happened up to now. That sends a jolt of heat through her. Fuck.
“Why are you still sitting in the chair? If I piss you off so much, why don’t you just leave, Sangonomiya?”
Kokomi opens her mouth to speak. Then covers it with her hands before anything comes out. She can't allow herself to speak. Can’t let the truth out. She thinks about leaving. It feels possible.
“Oh please. Surely you’re not too much of a fucking coward to have a conversation with me.” Miss Yae has that stupid fucking sneer again, “God you’re so fucking useless. Priss bitch.”
The words hurt like hell. She needs to say something. Stop her from saying them again.
“I don’t–you fucking hypnotized me. It’s disgusting! I can’t–Why are you allowed to do this?.” That works, Kokomi thinks.
“You let me do it, you know.” Miss Yae scoffs, “but you can never be wrong, can you. Bitch.”
“Fuck–I’m not–I’m not fucking like this!”
Miss Yae arches an eyebrow, “so leave. Pick up your things and go, if you want to.” Her tone is firm, commanding.
Kokomi knows she’s telling the truth. Could leave if she wants to. But she can’t let Miss Yae think she’s okay with how this conversation went. Has to say more.
“No–fuck–I won’t until we talk about how you’re turning this company into a fucking porn publisher!” Kokomi feels delighted to have finally gotten that out.
Then she feels her gut drop when she looks at Miss Yae again. She looks angry. Fuck. She made her angry.
“Did you get off to the original draft of My Boss is a Hypnotist ?”
“Yes.” Kokomi answers instantly. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. No. She wasn’t supposed to say that. Feels her cheeks flare red with embarrassment. Stumbles to defend herself, “It’s not–fuck–that’s not what matters!”
“Isn’t it?” Miss Yae chuckles, cruelly, “You fight against publishing adult shit because you’re too much of a bitch to come to terms with how much you like it.”
Kokomi feels every word tear down her armor. She doesn’t know how much fight she has left.
“Did you write about My Boss is a Hypnotist in your little scrapbook?” Miss Yae’s voice is so commanding.
“Yes.” Kokomi freezes. Feels herself blanch.
“Of fucking course you did.” Miss Yae leans in closer, swallows up all of Kokomi’s vision,“What happens in it?”
“Tsukuko hypnotizes her without her knowing–” fuck, she needs to redirect, save what little pride she has left, “what the fuck does this have to do with the conversation?” Kokomi manages to snap.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch.” Miss Yae’s eyes are angry again. It makes Kokomi shiver. “Don’t you want to listen to me? Finish your fucking description.”
“She fucking rapes her!” The words fly out of her mouth before she can stop them. Abject horror sets in. She sees it reflected in Miss Yae’s eyes. Kokomi feels sick. Like she’s going to throw up. The humiliation is too much. She can’t bear the way Miss Yae is looking at her.
“So the original dubious consent that I believe you commented to be ‘unprofessional, uncomfortable, and unpublishable’ wasn’t enough? You needed more?”
“Yes!–fuck–no, yes.” Admitting it makes her burn with humiliation, but it’s the only one thing that feels right enough to say. And she wants to listen. It feels so nice when she responds right.
“God, you’re fucking disgusting. Of course the stupid prim and proper act is just a cover for how fucked up you are.” Miss Yae’s eyes are so acidic, Kokomi can’t do anything but stare at the floor.
“So you’re into non-con, hm? Tell me why.” It’s a command.
“It–It makes me feel things, fuck, I don’t know!?” Kokomi feels her self-control continue to crumble away.
“That’s all? Come now, I know you’ve written more than that in your stupid little book.”
“I… just…. the way I feel like I lose control. It gets all fuzzy when I can’t make any decisions.” Kokomi responds, voice scratchy and paperthin.
“Of course you do. You’re so fucking high strung all the time the only way for you to feel good is to imagine someone ripping your control away. I bet you’d like it if I bent you over this table and used you until you were screaming, wouldn’t you?”
The shame burns so hot, but she feels the damp spot that’s soaked into the chair under her and the truth slips out.
“Yeah.”
“Good. It makes me so glad that I can put you in your place. Put you where you belong, listening to my every order, incapable of talking back.”
“Fuck you, Miss Yae. You don’t get to decide where I belong!” Kokomi’s voice barely scratches out a yell.
The resulting silence makes Kokomi tilt her head back up to look at Miss Yae, blood freezing in her veins when she meets her eyes. She’s looking at her with one eyebrow raised in challenge, anger burning in her eyes as she spits out a disgusted, “really? You still think you don’t fucking belong under my heel? You are the most insufferable bitch I’ve ever met. Fucking Hell.” Acid drips from every word out of Miss Yae’s mouth.
Kokomi feels the fear and dread become something else entirely, covering her like a weighted blanket and dragging her under. She rips her eyes away from Miss Yae and focuses back on the floor. She feels like she’s suffocating. Every breath is so heavy.
“No wonder you’re such a fucking nuisance in meetings. You still think you’re so fucking high and mighty. Let’s fix that.” Miss Yae talks like Kokomi is an object, like she has no say in the matter. The thought makes her squeeze her thighs together. It makes her want to cry and scream and run but she can’t. She can only stare at the ground and wait for whatever comes next.
“Sit on the floor.” Miss Yae commands.
She follows without thinking, kneeling like she’s at prayer.
“See? Not so fucking hard. Now keep your eyes on me.”
Kokomi looks up, ashamed at the ease with which she follows.
“You’re into all sorts of fucked up shit, aren’t you?” The question hits Kokomi like a brick.
“Yes.” Shame blossoms as she answers automatically.
“Do you ever think about someone hurting you?”
“Yes.” Kokomi thinks about the story where she has a knife used on her, patterns carved into her while she’s chained up. How she could feel herself losing blood, but didn’t want it to stop, the sharp edge of the knife cutting pleasure into her.
She feels a tear roll down her cheek, she feels sick again. These stories–fantasies–were supposed to stay locked in her mind. No one was supposed to know. Every confession feels like that knife against her skin.
“You want to tell me what you wrote about My Boss is a Hypnotist in that book?”
Kokomi feels so sick. Can’t breathe. “No-I…please.” A sob escapes her, wetness trickling down her face, “Don’t make me. Please.” The shame of pleading is only drowned out by the blanket of dread and panic Miss Yae is making her feel.
“Come the fuck on, bitch. You can fucking talk. I’m already disappointed, but you’re just making it worse.”
The sobs turn into desperate cries and the panic sinks like a rock in her stomach. She disappointed Miss Yae. She doesn’t want to disappoint Miss Yae. Can’t stop the compulsion to give her the truth.
“Well? What happens in your fucking story?”
Kokomi feels herself cave. She’s powerless to stop it. “It starts… Tsukuko calls me up to her office... and I go thinking it’s something about my project, something good.”
“Figures you’d think that the only reason you’d get called in is for good news. Fucking bitch.” Miss Yae snarls, "What happens in the office? She fucks you then and there?”
“N-No, she puts headphones on me and shows me a video. I’m confused but I trust her so I assume it’s something related to the project, and I start playing it.” Kokomi feels so, so humiliated, wishes she wrote something less shameful.
“God you’re fucking gullible in your fantasy too. So what, she hypnotizes you and forces you to touch yourself in front of her or something?”
Kokomi feels her cheeks burn, fights her constricted breathing to reply, “I–I thought about that but… not in this version.” She feels so impossibly small and defenseless against Miss Yae. Like it would only take one more poke for her to crumble.
“So what happens in this version? You’re not fucking done yet.” Miss Yae sighs, “you can do it. You can be good, can’t you?”
Kokomi feels herself clench around the words be good . She can be good. She wants to be good. Miss Yae’s praise is so addictive. She needs more. Needs to be good. She feels so ashamed of herself.
“Well?” Miss Yae’s voice pulls her from her thoughts. Kokomi braces herself for her response to slip out.
“She– She hypnotizes me, but I don’t know what she does with it, and she tells me to go back to work… It’s only when I’m walking home that I notice I’m not walking to my house, b-but I don’t feel like I can stop walking.”
“God, of course nothing is your fault. You’re so fucking stupid, you know?”
“Yeah. She–Tsukiko calls me stupid too. For letting her hypnotize me.” Kokomi clenches her thighs together, feeling the heat pool hotter and hotter the further into the story she gets.
Miss Yae is silent for a while. The thick, sticky silence feels so loud. Kokomi anticipates her next words like she’s waiting for a slap to the face.
“Keep going, you’re not fucking finished telling your little story, bitch.” Every insult is another hit. Kokomi reels from it.
“I get to her house, and it’s a mansion, and the gate opens automatically and I walk all the way down the path. It’s so dark I can’t see anything except for the door and I can’t look anywhere else anyways, and when I get to it I- I-.”
“You what? Spit it the fuck out, bitch!”
“Something hits me and everything goes black!” Kokomi tries to raise her voice to match Miss Yae’s but she can’t get enough air and everything is spinning and breaking and she can’t keep the tears at bay anymore. She doesn’t know how long she’s crying for but when she comes back up her head is full of cotton. Everything’s fuzzy. It feels nice.
“You’re not done, bitch. What happens next?”
Miss Yae won’t stop pushing.
Kokomi submits. It feels so nice. Feels like she’s floating. She’s gonna give Miss Yae exactly what she wants.
“I wake up in a small, dark room with no windows. It’s so cold. There’s only the thin mattress I’m on and concrete walls. My arms and legs are chained to the walls so I’m spread out. I can’t hear anything other than my own breathing. And then… and then she comes in and slaps me across the face and tells me that I’m worthless.”
Kokomi’s face burns but it feels so good to give in. To just let it out. She hasn’t even written this part yet.
“She uncuffs me and stands me up to cuff me from the ceiling–so I can barely stand. Clips a vibrator to my pussy and starts whipping me. I can’t feel anything except the vibrator and the whip and it hurts so fucking good until it’s too much and I’m screaming and in pain and can’t feel anything anymore. She takes off the vibrator and slaps me in the face again. Spits on me. Tells me I’m useless. She lies me down on my back and starts stabbing me with a needle. It’s so sharp and there’s so much feeling. Every time she stabs me she says something about how I’m worthless. That I have no value. Until there’s nothing left. Only her.”
She feels so calm. There’s no anxiety or dread anymore. She has no control. Everything is up to Miss Yae. It's so warm, like she’s wrapped in fleece blankets. Feels so nice.
“You’re so fucking pathetic.”
Fuck, that hurts. Kokomi feels herself flinch against the insult.
“You’re a haughty bitch with some fucked up fantasies who’s such a fucking coward that it takes someone hypnotizing and humiliating you to get it out of your mouth. You can’t even fucking be normal about it. Instead you get off on picking stupid, worthless fights so that you can be the innocent little center of attention. That’s your fantasy though, isn’t it? A woman looking at you even though you’re fucking worthless, and you have no choice but to go along whatever she wants. You have to be faultless. It can never be your fucking fault, can it? Nothing can ever be your prissy fucking fault.”
Dimly, Kokomi registers again that she’d been hypnotized. Fuck. Of course. She’s so stupid, just like Miss Yae said. She feels more tears stream down her face, but her focus is still on Miss Yae. She has to drink up every word, every crushing insult. They’re all she has, now.
“You couldn’t even lie about it. All I had to do was give you a scrap of what you want and you tore off the whole fucking hand. Manipulative bitch.”
Fuck. “I’m sorry.” Kokomi forces out, barely above a whisper. She doesn't want Miss Yae to think of her as manipulative.
“You’re what? I can’t fucking hear you!” Miss Yae is almost yelling, but the edge is gone from her voice. Like she really wants to know.
“I’m sorry!” Kokomi’s voice is hoarse and unsteady as she raises it, “I’m so fucking sorry I’m a worthless pathetic bitch.”
More hot tears drip onto the floor. “You’re right and I’m so fucking sorry…” she trails off as the guilt eats away at her.
She sees Miss Yae open her mouth then closes it again. Waits for her next command. Can’t look anywhere but at her. Waiting. Her head is so full of fuzzy cotton.
Miss Yae’s eyes are softer now. Less acidic. It fills Kokomi with warmth. She waits patiently for her next words.
“You should be glad you’re so pretty.”
Oh. Kokomi feels the compliment stronger than she’s ever felt anything in her life. It feels warm and tingly all over. Miss Yae thinks I’m pretty . It’s the strongest drug she’s ever taken, makes her feel like she’s soaring a thousand miles high.
“Thank you, Miss Yae.” Kokomi remembers to say, after a minute.
“Just for the part that feels good? You should be thanking me for everything I’ve done for you.” Miss Yae’s tone is like she’s talking to a petulant child.
“It all feels good, Miss Yae.” Kokomi replies, words unbidden. She doesn’t feel any embarrassment anymore. Doesn’t feel like she has to hide anything.
Miss Yae takes her chin in her hand. Kokomi preens into the touch. It feels so nice.
“Thank me for hurting you.” but Miss Yae’s voice is soft now.
Kokomi smiles, “Thank you for hurting me, Miss Yae.”
“That’s it, good girl.”
Kokomi thinks she’s never wanted to hear anything more in her life. She needs to hear those words again. Miss Yae keeps stroking her chin. It all feels so good.
“I’m pleased, Kokomi.” Miss Yae’s voice is so warm.
The words are so nice. She doesn’t feel like she deserves to have Miss Yae be pleased with her. But she wants it so bad.
“Really?” She can’t help herself from double checking.
“Mhm. You were yelling at me earlier, throwing such a fit. Now look at you all docile for me. Pretty girl.” Miss Yae speaks slowly, letting the words sink into the cotton of Kokomi’s brain. “Look at me.”
She can’t not, with Miss Yae lifting her chin. So Kokomi lets herself really look at her. Sees her eyes glowing with a big smile. She feels herself mirror it. She’s so happy Miss Yae is pleased. Nothing has ever felt better.
She nuzzles further into Miss Yae’s hand. She never got to think about this part in her fantasies. It was always more violent to escape the guilt. She likes this part a lot. Thinks she’s never felt softer.
Miss Yae slides off the edge of the table and sits on the floor behind Kokomi.
“You can rest your head on my lap.” Miss Yae’s voice is so warm. She complies. It feels amazing.
She feels Miss Yae’s hands thread into her hair.
“Good girl.”
All of the acid from before is gone. Kokomi thinks it’s so nice. So nice not knowing what to expect. Not having to think about it.
“We’re just going to stay like this for a while. You can talk if you want but you don’t have to.” Miss Yae is being so nice to her. It makes her blush.
She doesn’t think she wants to talk, but she forces herself to say a quiet “Okay.”
She closes her eyes and just floats. She cries a bit. Hugs Miss Yae’s lap tighter. Cries more. breathes half asleep for a while. Hugs Miss Yae’s lap.
Slowly, Kokomi feels awareness return to her. It feels funny. She’s not sure where she was. She feels safe. She lets that feeling take over. Studies the wood grain of the conference table. Doesn’t think about much of anything.
A knock sounds at the door. She flinches and feels Miss Yae do the same. The knock sounds again. It’s so loud.
Miss Yae looks up at the clock on the wall, and Kokomi follows her gaze. It reads 6:30pm.
Fuck.
The meeting had adjourned at four o’clock. The sudden awareness of time snaps everything back into laser focus.
Kokomi rips her head away from Miko’s lap. Their eyes meet, and Kokomi thinks she must have had the same realization because her eyes are those of a deer in headlights. It's the first time today she's seen Miko lose her composure, but it doesn't bring her the joy she expected it to.
Kokomi shakes her head to rid herself of the thought and moves to stand up, stretching her newly sore legs. She can't bring herself to say a word to Miko, let alone look at her. She slips her laptop into her bag when another knock sounds, this time accompanied by Makoto's voice.
“Miko? Are you in there? You didn't respond to my texts and I checked but you haven't badged out. I can't find you anywhere…” Makoto's voice trails off, a blend of panic and exasperation coloring it.
Kokomi briefly considers answering, but Miko finally speaks up, “Shit. Yeah. I'm here—I’ll be out in a second.
Miko gets up and walks around the table to grab her belongings as Kokomi finishes putting her jacket on. They arrive in front of the door, and as Miko raches for the handle she takes a sharp breath in, then speaks so quietly Kokomi has to strain to hear,
“I'll see you Monday, Kokomi.” The words are quiet but they leave no room for argument. Kokomi refuses to open her mouth, too afraid of what she knows she’d say.
The door opens and light streams in, causing Kokomi to squint for a minute as she adjusts and leaves the room behind Miko. If Makoto is surprised to see her leave the room with Miko, she doesn't let it show. Kokomi is grateful. She doesn't think she could handle Makoto’s questions right now.
All Makoto says is, “Thank you for your hard work, Miss Sangonomiya. Have a good night.”
Kokomi wants to laugh and cry in the same breath, and uses all of her remaining strength to mumble out a, “goodnight, Miss Raiden.” She can’t look at Makoto while she says it. Just keeps her head bowed before walking towards the elevator as fast as she can, not daring to look back.
The cold evening air that hits her as she pushes open the heavy glass door feels like a truck running her over, the chill exorcising the last of her fucked up fever dream of an afternoon. Her phone vibrates with a call in her jacket pocket, and stills when she sees Rikka calling. Shit. She completely forgot she’d promised her cousin a catch up dinner tonight. Panicking, she answers the call and swallows down the guilt of what she’s about to do.
“Koko?” Rikka’s voice is soft, flush with concern.
“Hey Rikka...” Kokomi can hear the frailness in her voice, “I’m so sorry, I’ve just felt so unwell today and I haven’t checked my phone at all…”
It feels strange to lie. She kind of misses not being able to. Not needing to think.
Fuck. That makes her feel so disgusting. She doesn’t want to go back to the shell of herself she was in that room.
She bites back an audible curse, instead letting out a shaky exhale.
“It’s okay Koko! Don’t worry about anything, I care more about how you feel than anything else so just rest up and let me know if I can do anything!” Rikka’s voice is all honesty, and Kokomi feels guilt sink like a rock in her stomach.
“Thank you, Rikka, I really appreciate it. We’ll reschedule soon, I promise.” She sounds so weak, like she feels. She hates it.
They exchange goodbyes, leaving Kokomi shivering while she autopilots towards the subway home. Shit. The idea of going back to an empty apartment is terrifying.
She takes her phone from her jacket pocket again, this time opening her messages, staring blankly for a few seconds before tapping the group chat she has with Ayaka and Yoimiya.
[6:48pm] Kokomi: Can I come over tonight?
[6:49pm] Miya: of course!
[6:49pm] Miya: me n aya are at a work party thing so just let yourself in
[6:49pm] Miya: we'll be home at 10ish unless you need us
[6:50pm] Miya: just lmk
[6:51pm] Komi: No it's okay, I couldn't impose on your evening. I'll just borrow your couch for a bit if that's alright.
Kokomi buries her phone into her jacket and speedwalks the few blocks to the subway station.
She checks her phone again when she makes it to the subway platform, five unread messages from Yoimiya greeting her.
[6:52pm] Miya: im gonna come home
[6:55pm] Miya: aya agrees
[6:55pm] Miya: she has to stay for work stuff but i'll be there in 20 or so
[6:56pm] Miya: if u get there first theres mint chocolate chip in the freezer
[6:56pm] Miya: see u soon ❤️
The guilt that has made a permanent residence in Kokomi’s stomach pangs again as she reads Yoimiya's messages. She’s now selfishly ruined 3 people's plans for this evening, even though the thought of Yoimiya keeping her company is the best anti-nausea she could have asked for.
Tears threaten to pull her apart again as she steps into the subway car. She shuts her eyes and forces herself to focus on the sounds of the train instead.
…
Kokomi loses herself looking up at the soft strings of fairy lights hanging above Yoimiya’s bathtub, as the warm bubbly water eases the tension out of her muscles. She sighs, refusing to think about the events of the afternoon, intent on not letting being alone lead her into a spiral.
“Komi?” Yoimiya’s soft voice sounds through the door. “Can I come in?”
“Please.” Kokomi answers, grateful for the company.
Yoimiya slowly opens the door and pads over to the chair placed near where Kokomi is resting her head, eyes shut. They sit in comfortable silence for a minute before Yoimiya reaches out to scratch Kokomi’s scalp. Kokomi knows it means a question is coming, and she appreciates the second she has to prepare herself.
“Do you… want to talk about it?” Yoimiya asks, gingerly.
Kokomi shakes her head. She knows she needs to but she’s so scared that opening it up will hurt her. She feels hot tears trickle down against her skin.
“Oh, Komi… I’m so sorry… you don’t have to until you’re ready, okay?”
Yoimiya is so gentle. It contrasts so harshly to Miko’s behavior. She won’t let herself think about which she likes more.
Kokomi takes a deep breath. She needs to talk about it.
“You know Yae Miko?” Kokomi asks, voice already fragile.
“Your boss?”
“Yeah.” Kokomi nods, slowly. “She… did something to me, after the quarterly report meeting.”
Kokomi sniffles as tears start streaming down her face. She has no idea how she’s going to tell Yoimiya.
“What do you mean she did something, Kokomi?”
Being addressed by her name coils cold dread around Kokomi’s chest. It makes her feel sick.
Yoimiya pressed on, growing more concerned, “did she like proposition you or something?”
“Miya, fuck, please, don’t call me that” Kokomi chokes out inbetween sobs. It’s so embarrassing to say but she can’t take it. “I’m sorry.”
“Shit, I’m sorry Komi, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Yoimiya sounds like she's going to cry, too.
“Do you need me to go to HR with you? I can't believe she'd hurt you like this–I–It doesn't matter what she did, she should at least be reported!” Yoimiya is almost yelling, angry eyes fixed on the wall.
The volume makes Kokomi shrink into herself, she feels so worthless. She hates that the idea of reporting Miko makes her nauseous, even though she knows she's supposed to want to.
Yoimiya still isn't looking at her as she continues, “God, I hate how people with power think they can just abuse it like it's nothing! Like just because she has a higher position than you she can hurt you without consequences! I won't let that fucking happen to you!” Yoimiya’s words echo off the tiles of the bathroom for a second until a stunned silence takes over.
Kokomi presses her knees to her chest, face down just above the water, afraid of another outburst of Yoimiya's righteous anger.
The silence persists for another moment, broken only by Yoimiya inhaling a deep breath. Kokomi tenses and squeezes her eyes shut, then freezes when all she hears is Yoimiya sniffle out a choked sob.
“I’ll just shut up now…” Yoimiya whispers, unsteady.
She hears another sob. And another, until she's crying just as hard as Kokomi had been. They cry together until a quiet broken only by sniffles settles.
Gingerly breaking the silence, Yoimiya whispers again, “whatever happened, I need you to know I won't judge you, okay?” Yoimiya sighs, deflating, “and I promise I’ll do my best to just listen.”
The affirmation helps, Kokomi thinks. She takes a deep breath, and opens her eyes to find Yoimiya’s, care and concern written on her face. She takes another deep breath and steadies herself, reaching out for Yoimiya's hand to hold as she finds her words.
“Well, at the end of the meeting, I made a comment to Makoto about something that apparently set her off,” Kokomi takes another deep breath, voice steadying as she goes, “and after the meeting she cornered me once the room was empty. Started berating me for not doing my job well and being a nuisance, just so… mean.”
The words spill out, now, “And I accidentally said something that gave her a hint about the fucked up shit I like and she kept pressing me and then–god, this is so embarrassing, Miya–she hypnotized me then and there.”
Kokomi chuckles a little at the absurdity of it, but there’s no mirth in it. Yoimiya’s eyes are wide with concern as she describes the rest of the saga. She still can’t remember exactly what happened while she was hypnotized, but she tells her all of Miko’s questioning that came after. How she felt so humiliated. How aroused she was, getting yelled at. How she was gradually reduced to a shell of herself until she could do nothing but submit. How good she felt when Miko praised her. How safe she felt. How it all came crashing down when Makoto knocked on the door. How disgusted she feels with herself for not stopping it, not leaving. How she never wants to feel like that shell again but she craves it at the same time.
Kokomi’s eyes are puffy and swollen by the time she’s finished, and she takes the tissues Yoimiya hands her gratefully.
Yoimiya is silent for a while, a contemplative look on her face. Kokomi takes the silence to center herself. Stop fucking crying so much.
Her eyes are dry when Yoimiya finally speaks. “Thank you for trusting me, Komi. I know that wasn’t easy, and I’m so proud of you for telling me,” She pauses, finding words, “I think I have a lot of thoughts, and a lot of thoughts that can wait for later. For now I want to make sure you know that you’re not in the wrong to have mixed feelings and a lot of confusion.
“I need you to know that it’s okay that you liked some of it, even if the way Miko went about it was completely abhorrent. It’s okay if you want some or even all of it to happen again. We can talk about how to approach it healthily and about setting guard rails later, but for now I really, really need you to know that you’re okay.”
Yoimiya takes a deep breath in, before continuing.
“What Miko did to you today wasn’t at all okay, that’s for sure, and it’s normal and okay for you to be really, really hurt by that, but it’s also okay for you to want it again in a way that hurts you less. You are allowed to have desires, Komi, no matter what they are.”
Kokomi feels tear marks streak down her cheeks again, but there’s a smile on her face now. Yoimiya always knows what to say. She lets herself feel okay for the first time since the afternoon started. Isn’t sure she’s ready to decide how she feels about everything, but the thought isn’t crushing. She’ll keep talking to Yoimiya and figure out how to sort the bad from the good later.
For now, Kokomi leans her head back against the bathtub and thinks about nothing at all. It feels almost as nice as being in Miko’s lap.
The thought is a knife to her bubble of comfort. She wonders if Miko is so conflicted. Wonders why she cares. Hates that she does.
She takes a deep breath and forces herself to relax into Yoimiya’s hand. She’s allowed to care. She’s allowed to find what Miko did appalling, but only half regret that it happened.
She closes her eyes and allows herself to drift for another peaceful moment.
(...)
“What the fuck happened in there, Yae Miko?” Makoto’s voice explodes into their apartment as soon as she shuts the door behind her.
A stunned “what?” is all Miko can mutter before Makoto continues.
“The hell do you mean, what? I see you leaving a room with your least favorite person in the entire company, and she looks like she’s seen a ghost, and then I look at you and you look like all the life force has been sucked out of you.” Makoto turns to glare at her, continues, “So that’s what I mean by what the hell happened in there.” She points at the couch. “Sit down and tell me.”
Miko feels so nauseous as she sits down. She knows she has to tell Makoto the rotten truth–she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she didn’t. Fuck. She sits, starts massaging her temples while she figures out how to start.
“Well it was never supposed to turn into whatever the fuck it did, that’s for sure.” She exhales, heavy. She’s not even sure she could name what it was.
“Did–Did you fuck her!?” Makoto asks, practically yelling in incredulity.
“No!” Miko shouts back, defensive. “Fuck, no, not really?” She can barely sort through her own thoughts.
“Miko. What does ‘not really’ mean?” Makoto’s incredulity is edged out by concern now.
Miko massages her temples even harder.
“Well–fuck–just let me explain.” She takes a deep breath. It makes her think of how Kokomi had looked, breathing in trance. Fuck. Shit. Focus, she chides. “It just started as an argument–you know how much she pissed me off with the last project, and the comment after your presentation irritated the shit out of me.
“So I gave her a piece of mind about it, and then she let a detail slip about that stupid fucking project, and I couldn’t help but follow it, and then it wasn’t really argument about work anymore and she was so fucking scared and I made an insult with a stupid guess but she didn’t take it like I expected and–God! Fuck!”
Makoto is looking at her so intently, like she’s trying to piece together a puzzle. Miko sighs, looking away again, before continuing.
“It got so heated so quickly, and I kind of got her to admit some things that she shouldn’t have said, and–fuck, Mako–I fucking hypnotized her.” The admission is a gut punch, the following silence forcing Miko to look back to Makoto. Shelooks like her eyes are going to fly out of her head and she stands up to start pacing before she responds.
“You–Excuse me? You did what?” Makoto speaks with sheer disbelief, and Miko is reduced to silently watching her process it.
“You’re telling me you managed to somehow hypnotize your subordinate, who also happens to be your work nemesis. Hells. How? Why?” Makoto’s disbelieving tone melts into pure confusion, and Miko chokes out a sad laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
And she tells Makoto the whole story: how she put Kokomi in trance just to force her to tell the truth. How powerful she felt. How much she could tell Kokomi liked it. How she interrogated her, after snapping her out of the trance. How she felt 10 feet tall, getting Kokomi to admit to all of her most fucked up fantasies. How she took her to the brink and barely got control of herself in time to stop from barreling over it. How cute Kokomi was, submitting to her. How much power she had and how easy it was. How she didn’t fucking mean to do any of it. How she didn’t regret it, not really.
She’s sobbing, by the end. Can’t stop the tears as the weight of what she did hits her. She feels the guilt like a knife in her gut, she can’t stop the feeling from taking over completely, reducing her to a mess of tears and snot, Makoto embracing her whispering that it’s okay, that she’s okay.
Eventually, the tears stop. The guilt remains, crushing, but she’s not lost in it anymore.
She looks up at makoto. “You–you’re not mad?” she can’t wrap her brain around the fact that Makoto is still here.
“No, I’m pretty furious, and what you did isn’t fucking okay. But you’re a mess right now so I’m going to take care of you until you’re you again. Then we’ll talk about it.” Makoto says, firm.
“You’re not gonna fire me?” It’s a stupid question, but Miko needs the assurance right now.
“Christ, no, I’m not going to fire you.”
“And Kokomi?” She just needs to know.
“I won’t dismiss Sangonomiya either. She’ll have the weekend to think about it and I’ll call her into my office first thing Monday to see if she wants to talk about it or pretend like nothing happened, okay?”
She sees the terror in Kokomi’s eyes as she’d described that scene in her story. Subconsciously rubs her thighs together in the image. Fuck. Tears sting her eyes again. She feels so sick for wanting to see it again.
“Miko?” Makoto calls, concerned.
“Yeah. Sorry. Thank you, Mako.” Miko chokes out in between tears.
Distantly, she wonders what Kokomi is thinking. Wonders if she’s thinking about the same thing. She closes her eyes and allows the exhaustion to wash over her.
She falls asleep in Makoto’s arms, thinking about the face Kokomi made when she’d called her pretty, even though she knows she doesn’t deserve to ever see it again.