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“Oh my god, just hand me the box.” Kei finally had enough. All these movers did was complain. Maybe she should have expected that when she did not hire real movers and instead relied on the help of her gang of baby gays that she had accidentially adopted from the dance studio she went to once in a while.
Taki handed her the box and sighed. He sounded a little bit too relieved. It wasn’t even that heavy, since Kei had properly divided her heavy things across all boxes. She knew that neither of her moving assistants, Taki and Jo, had as much as stepped foot in a gym a day in their lives.
“Go get the plants, you weakling,” she told Taki while turning to fling the box into the building's elevator. He just smiled apologetically, skipping back across the lobby and out of the automatic doors that they’d propped open with a small walnut dresser.
Kei pressed the button to the fourth floor, where her new apartment was located. Moving anxiety still very much present, she hadn’t had the chance to actually feel excited about her new start. New home, new job, new me.
The building was old, but located in a nice, calm neighbourhood. She could go for runs around the parks and walk to the local grocery store in less than 5 minutes. There were schools, children and most importantly–life. It didn’t matter that the building’s facade was faded, and the pipes rusty. Rent was cheap, and it was close to her new place of work.
The elevator doors binged, and opened up to a blue-walled hallway. Kei placed a box by the elevator doors, so they wouldn’t shut while she hauled everything out. She didn’t own a lot of things per se, but with how she’d been spacing everything out between boxes, there were a lot of units to move.
When Kei finally got everything out of the elevator and removed the last box from the doors, they immediately closed, and the elevator started descending. Unfortunately, she’d probably been blocking it from someone. She hoped it wasn’t an elderly person or someone in a wheelchair.
Kei began moving her stuff down the hall. Her door was almost all the way at the end. Number 4011. As she took several trips back and forth down the hall from the elevator, she began to regret not hiring professional movers–or maybe just employing some of her buff acquaintances from the gym she frequented.
Kei loved and adored no one more in the world than Taki and Jo, but out of the three of them, she was the strongest by miles. Their stamina was also low, making them probably the worst moving assistants in history. When they were taking her things out of the old apartment, Kei had reentered the living room to find them hunched over Taki’s phone, watching Tiktoks. At that point Kei had almost snapped at them, but after spending 30 seconds composing herself, she came to the conclusion that moving completely alone was afterall worse than this.
So she kept on hauling, trying to see this as one less trip she’d have to take to the gym this week.
The elevator announced its arrival behind her, as she was putting yet another box down infront of her door.
“Who’s moving?” a voice came from the end of the hall. Kei looked back and saw two young men standing between the remaining boxes of hers. They were both pretty tall and good looking. The taller one had auburn hair, and the shorter one blond.
“Dunno. Maybe it’s our new neighbours,” The blond one hummed. He was dressed fashionably in oversized black clothes and big combat boots. He was also wearing somewhere around 5 kgs of silver jewelry and makeup on his face, making him look, in Kei’s humble opinion, very pretty.
Kei approached the two men, smiling. “It’s me. I’m moving into unit 4011.”
“Oh, then you are our new neighbour,” The taller one said, bowing politely. “I’m Byun Euijoo, nice to meet you.” This one was dressed more comfortably, but no less pretty than his friend.
Kei lowered her head in return. “Nice to meet you too. My name is Koga Yudai, but my friends call me Kei.”
Up close, both the men were a little shorter than Kei, as most men were, and they looked a little intimidated by her, as most men did. Despite it all, Euijoo was smiling very diplomatically. The other guy, however, looked like he dropped his jaw on the floor and was not so subtly gawking. Another effect she tended to have on men.
A few seconds too long had passed, and Euijoo hit his friend on the arm, as if to tell him to also introduce himself. The blond shook his head, expression quickly morphing into a charming smirk. He bowed as well. “Um, my name is Nicholas. But my friends call me Nico. Very nice to meet you,” He said, voice deep. Kei caught Euijoo rolling his eyes.
“We live in unit 4012, the one at the end of the hall. We have a third roommate named Fuma, but she’s out, I think.” Euijoo looked around them at the boxes on the floor. “Can we help you with these?”
Kei waved her hands infront of her in declination, “Oh no, it’s fine. My friends are helping me move. They should be back up here any minute.”
“At least let us help you with these.” Nicholas was already bending down to pick up a box, arm muscles bulging as he lifted.
“Okay, thanks.” Kei brushed a strand of hair back over her shoulder. She might be another level of athletic herself, but sometimes if a beautiful man offered to help her move some boxes, who was she to deny him the pleasure.
“Damn, what did you pack in here?” Nicholas groaned, staggering down the hall.
“I did try to space out the heavy stuff,” Kei mumbled to herself.
—
A few hours later Kei, Jo and Taki were finally inside Kei’s new apartment, arranging furniture and unboxing kitchen utensils. The living room and kitchen were separated by a wall, but there was an opening over the counter, allowing you to have a conversation between the rooms. Kei was carefully studying her disassembled coffee table and the screwdriver she had used for said disassembling just hours earlier, when a loud crash and a yelp sounded from the kitchen.
Kei shot up from the floor and ran to the kitchen. What she was met with there was nothing less than an ocean of porcelain shards on the floor. Enough to have been coming from more than one plate. Or two plates for that matter.
“Kei, I’m so sorry.” Jo’s sad puppy eyes hung somewhere next to the fridge, but all Kei could see was red.
“You can’t be serious,” she deadpanned. Her hands flew to her face. She turned away from Jo and Taki, and spoke to the wall. “Please get out, I can’t do this right now.”
“We can’t just leave you with this.” Taki pleaded. Kei could practically hear him sticking his tail between his legs. “I’ll find a broom.”
“The broom is in a fucking box. Just go home.” She was trying very hard not to yell at her poor, young friends. It wasn’t their fault. She was stressed out and it was getting late. When they didn’t move, Kei grabbed hold of their sleeves and pulled them towards the door. “Just, go. I’m tired, I’ll fix it and then go to bed.”
“I’m sorry,” Jo appologized again, as he was opening the front door. “I’ll get you some new plates, and I will come help unpack tomorrow.”
They both hesitated halfway out the door. Taki, with his hand still on the doorhandle said “Are you sure we should go? You seem stressed.”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Kei sighed. “I can handle it. Just go home and rest.”
Jo and Taki left, and Kei dramatically fell to the floor. She felt overwhelmed to say the least. And now she had to locate a broom, and she threw out her old vacuum back at her old place. The trash had been collected there the same morning.
But if Kei had nothing else, she just had to keep on going. So she got up from the floor again, and stepped out the front door. She found herself in front of a door with the number 4012. The white paint was chipped all over, and beneath the apartment number, three names were written, two in katakana, and one in kanji. 風 as in wind – 雅 as in elegance or grace. Pretty.
She knocked.
A few seconds passed. Maybe they weren’t home. She knocked again. This time a voice came from inside, muffled by distance and door and wall, “Coming!”
After a beat, the door opened with a wind. Infront of Kei was not one of the guys she’d met earlier, but a woman. Tall, only a little shorter than Kei herself. Shoulder length jet black hair in a wolfcut style. Delicate, pretty face with a slim, long nose, large eyes and an upturned upper lip. She was wearing a loose tank top and shorts. Short being the key word. Kei meticulously continued to maintain eyecontact.
“Hi. I just moved in next door today,” Kei professed. Her heartrate was very slow and calm, the benefits of being a runner, but her cheeks did warm up slightly.
“Oh, yes. Nico and Euijoo told me someone moved in today.” the woman blinked, expression blank.
“My name is Kei,” Kei said, intelligently.
“I’m Fuma,” Fuma replied, equally well spoken.
“Um… My friends dropped some plates while unpacking, so now I have shards all over,” Kei explained, as she wrung her hands. Why was she suddenly nervous? “I threw out my old vacuum before moving, and my broom and tray is at the bottom of a moving box right now. You don’t happen to have a broom and a vacuum, do you?”
Fuma turned to look back into the apartment, as if to check if a vacuum should magically have appeared in the middle of her living room. “Oh, I do. Just a second, I’ll get it for you.”
“Thanks,” Kei said, grateful.
Fuma disappeared back into the apartment, letting the door fall closed behind her. She reappeared a few minutes later, pusing a broom into Kei’s hands, along with a pair of thick cleaning gloves and a roll of trashbags.
“I reckon your other things are also buried,” Fuma explained as she dragged a vacuum out into the hall, following Kei back to apartment 4011.
Kei opened her own front door, and they both entered, kicking off their slippers in the doorway.
“It’s weird to see this apartment from the inside.” Fuma put down the vacuum at the entrance to the kitchen, looking around at the empty walls.
“You never visited the people who lived here before?” Kei asked, allowing herself to give Fuma one single head-to-toe look, now that she was standing with her back turned.
Seeing her at a bit of a distance, Kei could truly make out how well built she was. She took note of a hard tricep, broad shoulders and a pair of very shapely asscheeks peeking out at the bottom of the blue and green striped pyjama shorts Fuma was clad in. Said asscheeks lead into muscular thighs and tight calves. Kei wondered if she’d finally met the woman who could give her a run for her money when it came to weight lifting. She also wondered if Fuma could sweep her off her feet and carry her into her new bedroom. Just because she was curious of course.
Before Kei’s own thoughts got the best of her, Fuma turned back around, still scanning the room as if to document every little detail of the bare walls and cardboard boxes spread around the room. “Nah, it was an old man.”
“Don’t tell me he died in here.” Kei felt a chill creep up her back.
“No, he didn’t die here. I saw them roll him out in a wheelchair. I think he just went to a retirement home.” Fuma was now looking at Kei again.
“Thank god.” Kei breathed a sigh of relief, and then they just stood there for a while facing off. “If I heard a ghost at night, I would get so scared. And being here all alone...” Kei tugged her hair behind her ear.
“We can’t have that.” Fuma bit her lip, hesitating. “If you ever hear a ghost, you should call me and I’ll take care of it for you.”
Kei couldn’t help but giggle. “Oh, I’m sure you’d kick that ghost’s ass so hard.”
Fuma just smiled in return.
But the porcelain ocean in the kitchen was waiting. Kei turned back to the task at hand, grabbing a broom.
“You should probably wear shoes when you sweep.” Fuma warned behind her. She marched over to the door, putting on her own slippers and picking up Kei’s, bringing them to her.
“You’re so smart.” Kei said, genuinely, and took the slippers.
“Oh, I know.” Fuma winked at her. “Let me help you.” She entered the kitchen, pulling on the yellow rubber gloves.
“Oh, thank you. It’s so nice of you to help.” Kei tugged her hair behind her ear again, smiling sheepishly. She began to sweep the broken plates into a pile.
“It’s not a bother. Gotta help each other out. As neighbours.” Crouching down, Fuma looked up at Kei. Her mouth perpetually fell open just enough to reveal a set of cute front teeth. When she smiled, teeth were all there was. Kei thought she looked a little like a cute bunny. A stark contrast to her muscular body.
“I’m grateful,” Kei said, placing her hand over her heart. When she started sweeping again, she bent her upper body forward a little, revealing a bit of cleavage to the world.
Fuma, who was picking up the bigger shards and placing them in one of the trash bags she had brought, spoke up. “Sorry if this is a weird question, but do you work out a lot?”
Kei couldn’t help but smile. This was going somewhere.
“It’s just that you’re wearing workout clothes, and you look pretty athletic.” Fuma sounded a bit flustered, like she’d spoken before she could think. Kei felt like rubbing her grubby little hands together. She was in fact wearing work out clothes. Skin tight leggings and a sports bra. That was it, having lost her top somewhere during the day due to the heat and the strain of lifting moving boxes.
“Just a bit. You look like you work out a lot.” Kei placed the broom against the kitchen counter and gathered her hair in a ponytail, the rubber band around her wrist coming in handy.
Fuma had paused the collecting of broken porcelain to watch the action. “Well, yes, I mean… I’m into weight lifting lately.”
“Mmm, I see… Oops.” Kei had dropped the rubber band behind her. She turned around, and got on all fours, the floor behind her being safe and shard-free post-sweeping. “Where did it go?”
She made sure she was pointed directly away from Fuma as she felt around for the rubber band.
“I-I think it’s over there by the door.” Fuma informed her, voice strained. Kei arched her back a little as she reached for the rubber band, which she had had her eye on since the beginning.
“Ah, yes, there it is.”
—
They finished cleaning up, shards now securely in bags by the door, ready to be taken out.
Fuma was already on her way out, but Kei stopped her.
“Let’s exchange numbers, in case you need me to return the favour.” Kei said as she pulled out her phone. “Or the ghost comes out.”
“Okay, sure.” Fuma typed in her number, texted herself from Kei’s phone, and handed it back. “I don’t have my phone on me.” she explained.
Fuma watched Kei put her contact name as “Fuu-chan”. Already on a first name basis. Nickname basis in fact.
“See you around, Fuma-chan.” Kei smiled, wide and achingly charming. The way she said Fuma’s name had the back of her neck feeling warm.
Fuma left slightly light-headed. Back in her own apartment, she encountered Euijoo and Nicholas having a late-night ramen at the kitchen counter. They were eating from the pot, since they apparently could not be bothered to pour it into bowls even though they did in fact own plenty of bowls.
“Where were you?” Nicholas asked as soon as Fuma stepped through the front door. She realized then, that she’d left their vacuum and broom at Kei’s place. Well, she’d just have to go back and visit again. “And more importantly, where did you go this late, wearing that?”
Fuma looked down at herself, and was immediately horrified. This was really the first impression she had left on the actually probably real life GODDESS who had moved in next door. Her absolutely tiny sleep shorts and old, worn-out tank top with holes at the collar and a stain on the chest. Just her luck.
“Um… I just helped the new neighbour with something.” Fuma sat down at the kitchen counter, and couldn’t help but face-palm for a moment.
“The new neighbour as in the amazon who just moved in to nr 4011?” Nicholas asked around a mouthful of noodles, earning a smack on the arm from Euijoo, who grumbled something about not sexually harrassing the poor woman. Nicholas seemed to either not hear or care.
“Well, yes. I assisted the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in my life with manual labour, while wearing next to no clothes. Just call me a whore, it’s okay.” Fuma sighed.
“If anyone’s a whore here, it’s Nico.” Euijoo added, helpfully.
“Rude.” Nicholas scowled.
“I’m just pointing out the truth.” Euijoo shot back. “Anyways, she seems friendly. Does she live alone?”
Fuma raised her head from her arms, where she had been nursing her shame. “Seems like it. She didn’t mention any roommates. I think she said she moved to be closer to her new job.”
“So she must be older than us then. Not a student.” Euijoo mused.
“Living in that apartment alone though…” Nicholas shivered a little, noodles dropping from his chopsticks.
“You actually believe it’s haunted?” Fuma asked.
“Yes. Last time Harua came over, he said he felt evil energy coming from that appartment.” Nicholas and his eccentric friends. “And that was right after the old man moved out. Maybe something entered while it was vacant.” He honestly looked a little scared.
“Don’t let that scam psychic scare you, please.” Euijoo pleaded, standing up to wash up the now empty pot.
“Harua is not a scammer, he has the gift. And you always tell me you hear weird noises at night, and then you come to my room. Do you want our poor, beautiful new neighbour to go through that?” Nicholas pressed on.
“Uh, well, I don’t believe in ghosts. It could be a murderer. And my room is the closest to the front door.” Euijoo looked flustered as he stuttered out his excuse. Fuma quickly decided that it was none of her business if her roommates shared a bed.
“Anyways, I think we should have Harua come over and do a cleansing.” Nicholas said firmly.
“Whatever, just don’t let her pay him.” Euijoo rolled his eyes.
Ghosts or not, the visit to apartment 4011 had definitely changed Fuma’s mood. She went back to her room, and picked up her phone from the middle of her bed where she’d discarded it before going to open the door. There was the text she’d sent herself, as well as another one Kei must have sent after Fuma left.
Thanks again for the help! I honestly don’t know what I would have done, if you didn’t save me. I really owe you one ❤️
Fuma replied.
My pleasure. It’s what neighbours are for🥰
Fuma tried not to smile too hard. She went through her evening routine, not smiling, not giggling.
When she got into bed she tried very hard not to think of long, blond hair and even longer–impossibly long–slim legs. But as Fuma drifted off to sleep she could only hear a sweet, seductive voice in her ear saying her name affectionately.
Maybe she was fucked.
—
Kei had mostly settled after a few days. She made up with Jo and Taki. They helped her settle in, and she bought them meals in return. They knew she didn’t really mean it, when she got mad. Therefore everything was forgiven in no time.
The new job that she had managed to land didn’t start until a few weeks later. It was somewhere more quiet. A place where she could clock out at the end of her shift, and actually be off the clock. That’s something that never really seemed possible in her last job.
She had accepted a position as an assistant manager, and suddenly the overtime wouldn’t stop adding up.
Ms. Koga, the reports are due tomorrow. Can you stay after hours and finish them?
Kei, this client is asking to meet at their office, can you go?
Hey, the printer is broken again. Can you come in? You’re the only one who knows how to fix it.
It wasn’t long before she couldn’t breathe properly, couldn’t sleep.
So she quit.
The move was more so to get some fresh air, and somewhere she could call her own. Her family told her it would be a good idea. Her family also told her to take a break from working all together. As if she could afford that.
Kei’s new job was at a small cafe in the neighborhood. She’d be starting a full time position, which would probably be enough to cover rent and groceries. She hoped. Luckily the area was not hip enough for the rent to be too expensive.
But despite the pressure being lower this time around, Kei felt bad. The type of bad she never really seemed to be able to put into words. Like something was about to happen. What or when was never clear, but the feeling clung to her like someone was hitching a ride on her back as she paced around her room, or made her way into town to buy moisturizer and a new lip gloss. Like a ghost that followed her every move, just waiting for its chance to jump on her and squeeze the air out of her lungs.
Feeling like this, Kei understood why people drank and smoked. Those moments where she felt like her skin was too tight around her muscles and bones, and the itching wouldn’t stop, poisoning your body to get some sort of relief from the constant buzzing in your head seemed like a pretty good idea.
When Kei felt like that, though, she ran.
Today was no different. Now that there wasn’t much to fix in her apartment anymore, she had to get out of her head in some other way, and so she pulled on her running shoes.
Kei was halfway down the hall to the stairs, when the elevator binged, and out stepped Fuma. She was carrying several bags of groceries, bulging arms visible due to her cut-off sleeves. Did that woman own as much as a t-shirt?
“Oh, hello!” Kei called cheerfully.
Fuma stuck her head around a bundle of spring onions blooming out of the tote bag. “Kei!” she beamed, bunny teeth flashing white. “Where are you going?”
“For a run.” Kei gestured to her attire.
“How nice. The weather is good today, not too hot.” Fuma, ever practical of mind. “Maybe I should run too, it’s been a while.”
Kei put on her best winning smile. “Oh my god, yes!” she cheered. “Please join me.”
“Ok, sure.” Fuma replied. She was still holding on to the groceries while maintaining good posture. Kei thought again about whether Fuma would be capable of bench-pressing her. And other scenarios.
Fuma started down the hall again. “Just let me put away my groceries, and I’ll be right there.”
“Okay, I’ll wait here.” Kei started running in place right there in the hallway, excitement barely contained. Something fizzy and sweet bubbled in her stomach, the backpack ghost gone for now.
Fuma came back out of her door a little later. She was now in shorts (a bit more modest than those from the other day) and her signature tank top. She had brought a small Pokémon-themed fanny pack as well.
“Cute bag.” Kei noted.
“Thank you.” Fuma replied, looking down at the belt bag strapped to her midriff. “It’s a little silly but… I love Pokémon, I can’t deny it.”
“It’s not silly, I love them too.” Kei reassured her. They started walking out. “Do you have a favorite? Mine’s Snorlax.”
“Oh, cute. Mine’s Eevee.”
“Cute Pokémon for a cute girl.”
Kei watched as Fuma’s cheeks turned pink.
They ran around one of the local parks. There was a small lake in the center, lined with trees and benches. It was the type of idyllic weather that had families pulling out their picnic blankets, and couples going on walks hand in hand. A mild breeze ruffled the grass and the leaves on the trees, the sound filling the air like thousands of voices whispering secrets to whoever would listen. Kei felt near electric.
Fuma, however, looked like she was dying.
“Kei,” she breathed, stopping in the middle of the gravel path. Fuma bent over, putting her hands on her knees. “This pace is killing me.”
“Really?” Kei stopped as well. “This is slow for me.” She might have underestimated the speed at which normal people could move their legs for an extended period of time.
“What are you, like a professional marathon runner or what?” Fumas breath came out in gasps.
“Um…”
“You actually are?” Fuma was now looking at her with raised eyebrows.
“Well, not a professional, but I have been running marathons since high school.” Kei bit her lip in embarrassment.
“Girl, you’re not human.” Fuma was now wiping the sweat off her forehead dramatically. To Kei’s regret, her body did not look any less appetizing with heat-flushed skin glistening in the late afternoon sun.
“I’m so sorry.” Kei whined. “I don’t usually run with other people, so I don’t really know what’s too fast and I didn’t think I had to go easy on you since you said you work out a lot and-” She cut herself off as Fuma appeared right infront of her, placing a reassuring hand on her arm.
“Hah, don’t worry, it’s ok. I’m not hurt.” Fuma’s smile really was so warm and reassuring. Kei didn’t know how to feel anxious around her. “Let’s just take a break. I need water.”
They found a vending machine in a quiet corner of the park, and withdrew two bottles of ice cold water. There was a bench with a view of the lake, hidden among the trees from the gravel path. Fuma threw herself down. Kei placed her foot on the seat of the bench to do some light stretching.
“You shouldn’t sit still for too long, or you’ll be sore tomorrow.” Kei reprimanded.
“Just give me a minute.” Fuma opened her water and took several big swigs. Kei watched as her throat moved with the gulps. A drop of sweat traveled down Fuma’s neck, over her collar bones and…
Fuma removed the bottle from her lips with a loud “Haaaah.”
“Refreshing?” Kei laughed.
“Water has never tasted better.” Fuma got up and started stretching as well. Her leg was now up on the bench, mirroring Kei’s position. She pushed forward, thigh muscles straining. “How’s the move going? You settled yet?”
Kei pushed off the bench, pulling her leg up behind her to stretch the front of her thigh. Fuma followed along. “Yeah, I mostly unpacked everything now. My two little helpers felt so bad about breaking all my plates that they willingly came back and helped some more.”
“That’s very nice of your… friends?” Fuma questioned.
“Yeah, they’re still young, so I can never really find it within myself to tell them off. I raised them well.” They weren’t that young, in fact they both passed the age of 20 now, but it felt like yesterday that they were just teenagers, desperately seeking a positive role model. They still awakened Kei’s maternal instinct. They were more like little brothers to her.
“Tell me about it. Sometimes Nico and Euijoo feel like they’re my kids. I always have to stop them from ripping each other's heads off, like two children fighting over candy or something.” Fuma rolled her eyes, but she looked fond.
“Have you three lived together for a long time?” Kei asked while changing her position, so her head was upside-down.
“Like, 3 years I think? We met in uni, and just stuck together.” Kei couldn’t see Fuma from her current position, but from the sound of it, she was upside-down as well.
“Wow, that’s so long. Your friendship must be insanely strong if you can handle living together like that.” Kei stood up straight, observing Fuma with her legs spread and upper body bent over like a silly giraffe.
“Yeah we’re… close.” Fuma’s tone sounded funny. Kei wondered if she should ask further. She decided not to right now.
“I’m so used to living alone, I couldn’t do it.” Kei thought of living with two male friends and shuddered. She couldn’t imagine anything worse.
“Are you sure you’re fine all alone in your apartment? No weird noises?” Fuma looked up and seemingly realized she was now the only one still with her ass in the air looking at the gravel. She stood up, wobbling a little before regaining her balance.
“What do you mean? Are you talking about ghosts again?” Kei laughed a little at the thought. She didn’t actually believe in ghosts. The spirity dead person kind at least. She thought maybe other things could haunt you. Like your past. Or the sight of pretty upturned lips and huge biceps.
Fuma bit her lip in hesitation. “Um… I don’t know if I should say this, but…” she looked down at her feet which were kicking tiny stones up from the path. “There’s rumors that your apartment is actually haunted.”
Kei laughed. A bit too sudden and loud maybe. But Fuma looked worried, relaying the news of a potential ghost haunting. How adorable.
“It’s just… Nico’s friend Harua deals with spirit stuff, and he can do a ghost cleansing for free. Just to be safe,” Fuma said.
“Well… If I suspect there’s anything going on, I’ll let you know, okay?”
“Okay.”
They jogged back to the edge of the park and home at a slower pace. The sun was setting and the temperature slowly descended to something a bit chiller. Back in the hallway they said goodbye. As Fuma was about to turn around towards her door, Kei leaned in for a hug. Their bodies slotted together quite neatly. Kei allowed herself to breathe in a whiff of Fuma’s scent. She smelled fresh, the sweat from the day and the run not bad at all.
—
A few days passed without any ghostly shenanigans. Kei went into her new workplace for some training. Her manager was nice and also looked freshly out of high school. She tried not to think too hard about being a failure for nearing her thirties and working a job with people almost ten years younger than herself.
She had dinner with Taki and Jo and it felt nice and familiar. She ran every day to keep up some sense of a routine until she started working. She texted Fuma about nothing and everything.
One afternoon, there was a knock on Kei’s door. When she opened it, there were four people outside. In the front stood Fuma, this time in big glasses–adorable–and behind her were Nicholas, Euijoo and a short guy with reddish hair. He was dressed somewhat like a young boy in 2010, the outfit complete with a reverse cap and sneakers that must have been too big for his feet.
“Hi,” Fuma said, looking a little nervous. “Sorry to intrude but we’re here about the… ghost problem.”
“I don’t remember calling about a ghost problem,” Kei said through barely contained laughter.
“You didn’t have to. The energy coming from your apartment is rancid.” The little guy with the hat spoke up. He stepped forward waving his hands infront of himself, as if the ghost energy was like smoke hanging in the air. “I believe it’s pretty urgent, Miss.”
“Sure. And who are you?” Kei asked the little guy, who was attempting to push past her and enter her place.
“Um, that’s Harua. Nico’s friend,” Fuma explained. “Harua, please say hi.”
“Hi,” Harua said while rummaging through a tote bag he was carrying on his shoulder.
“Hi, Harua. I’m Kei. Nice to meet you,” Kei said.
“Nice to meet you, Kei,” Harua greeted while finally pulling a bundle of twigs tied together with white strings out of his bag. “If you want the ghosts gone, we have some work to do.”
Kei shrugged and let them in. It wasn’t like she had heard or seen anything. More than anything this was just an interesting development in her new life arc. When Fuma walked through the door, which Kei was holding open for her guests, she rubbed her on the arm. They smiled at each other.
Giggling sounded behind Kei as the last two guests entered. Nicholas gave Kei a funny look, before turning to Euijoo to whisper something to him. They giggled together again. Kei caught Fuma rolling her eyes.
Upon entering the living room, Harua froze in his tracks. He held up a hand to tell the others to stay quiet, and he stood there for a few seconds listening or sensing, or whatever, while Kei held her breath.
Harua turned around. His eyes were closed, and his hand still raised in the air next to his body.
“He’s here,” he whispered. When he opened his eyes again, Harua was looking Kei straight in the eyes.
“O-okay,” Kei said and she caught her voice shaking a little. It wasn’t like she was scared of ghosts, or that she believed in them really, but if there was an expert in the room, maybe he could sense bad energy. She had felt anxious recently. Or she always did. But since moving into this apartment, the backpack ghost had made an appearance more days than not. Maybe a ghost cleansing was a good idea after all.
Kei felt an arm coming to rest around her shoulders. It was Fuma, and her presence immediately had a calming effect on Kei's nerves.
On the other side of the living room, Nicholas was clinging to Euijoo’s back and only the top of his head was visible over his shoulder. Kei smiled at the thought of such a confident guy being scared of ghosts. What was visible of his face was pale and he was clutching Euijoo’s sides in a way that looked painful. Euijoo himself looked mostly unbothered, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently where he stood.
“To begin the session, we must clear a space. We can use this table for the seance,” Harua commanded, walking over to Kei’s coffee table. He began clearing off the fruit bowl and magazines spread across the table before Kei could protest.
“Wait a minute. Let me get that,” She said, running over to take her stuff safely to the dining table.
“You also need to open the windows, so he can get out.”
“Can’t ghosts go through walls nowadays?” Euijoo asked sarcastically, which earned him a weak slap on the arm from Nicholas.
Fuma leaned over, and whispered to Euijoo under her breath, so low that Kei thought it wasn’t intended for her ears. “Just let him do his thing.”
Euijoo rolled his eyes.
Kei opened the windows in her living room. The sounds of a late afternoon filled the air outside in contrast to the silence of the apartment. Somehow no one was slamming doors two floors down today. Or drilling in the walls. There was usually always drilling.
The rest of them also sat down on the floor around the coffee table. Harua had placed three different candles in the middle of the table and was pulling out matches to light them with. The bundle of sticks was also on the table next to him.
Fuma settled next to Kei. She sat down close, so their thighs and shoulders were touching. Kei felt safe with Fuma’s warmth pressed against her. On the other side of the table, Euijoo and Nicholas were seated in a similar fashion, but in contrast to Kei and Fuma’s intentionally casual closeness, Nicholas was clinging to Euijoo’s arm like it was his only lifeline.
Harua pulled out a long match stick. The sound as he struck it against the box broke the eerie silence that had fallen upon them. It was getting dim in the living room as the hour crawled towards evening, and the glow of the match lit up Harua’s face in dramatic contrasts.
He lit the three candles and bathed their small circle in candle light. Fuma squeezed Kei’s thigh.
“Now everyone, hold hands.” He didn’t have to say it twice, since half of the company were already clasping onto each other feverishly. Still, Kei grabbed Fuma’s hand on her thigh. It was warm, but not clammy, and larger than her own. On the other side of her, Nicholas reached for her other hand. His hands were–in contrast to Fuma’s–both cold and clammy.
“Say after me,” Harua said. “‘It is time to move on. Please leave’”
“It is time to move on. Please leave,” They all repeated.
“Again.”
“It is time to move on. Please leave.”
“Again.”
“It is time to move on. Please leave.”
“Again.”
“It is time to move on. Please leave.” And at the same time, Euijoo said, “I think he gets it.”
Harua shot him a dirty look. “Wait.”
They waited. The candles didn’t flicker or blow out. The room was quiet except for heavy breathing coming from somewhere to Kei’s right. Outside, wind rustled the leaves of trees and a car made its way down the street.
Someone huffed. Another person whimpered quietly. Kei’s heart beat harder than when she ran marathons, but she held her breath. Next to her, Fuma shuffled.
And then it all happened at once. As if a strong wind had entered through the room, the candles were alight one moment, and the next the flames were reduced to smoke. A hard gasp came from someone in the cirkle, and at last the windows all slammed shut. All of them jumped at the sudden motion and screamed in unison.
“Leave this place, spirit, and never return,” Harua shouted in a deep and dramatic timbre. A window creaked on its hinges, but otherwise the room fell silent again.
“What the fuck,” Nicholas croaked weakly.
Kei felt Fuma’s hand stroking her forearm gently, and only then realized that she had been gripping onto her hand with all of her strength. She loosened her hold slightly, but didn’t let go fully. “Sorry.”
“It’s ok,” Fuma hummed, and continued stroking Kei’s arm.
On the other side of the table, Nicholas was practically in Euijoo’s lap with his face buried in his neck. Kei was glad she wasn’t the most scared person in the room.
“He’s leaving,” Harua said, matter of fact. His eyes were closed again. Kei was starting to believe that he might actually have a connection to the other side. Either that or he got really lucky that a strong wind blew in through the windows at just the right moment.
Haura once again lit one of his long matches, and set his bundle of sticks on fire.
“What does that do, then?” Fuma asked. Her voice was neutral, and Kei still couldn’t really figure out if she believed this stuff or if she was just playing along because she found it entertaining.
“White sage,” Harua stated. “The smoke will rinse out the remnants of the energy. That ghost was a nasty guy. A pervert.”
Kei and Fuma looked at each other. Kei with a crease between her eyebrows, and Fuma with one eyebrow lifted like she didn’t really buy it.
“Good thing we got his ass,” Nicholas said, having regained some of his composure. He had still not climbed out of Euijoo’s lap, however, but Euijoo didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, seeing how he was stroking Nicholas’ back and looking at his face with a small smile on his lips. Kei and Fuma gave each other another look.
“I don’t know how much we got him per se. But he is out of here.” Harua had stood up and was wafting the burning twigs around the room. They emitted a weak white smoke and smelled like herbs and fire. Not necessarily unpleasant, just a bit witchy.
While Harua was prancing around the apartment, opening up every door to every room and cupboard to fill with smoke, the rest of them stood in a circle and attempted to make sense of what had just happened.
Nicholas wore a smug expression, seemingly having gotten over his shock and fear. “See, I told you something was up in here.” He said this directed at the group, but Kei suspected especially at the sceptic next to him.
Fuma scoffed. “If you keep acting smug, Mr. Ghost might take residence in your room.”
“You sound like my mom.”
“No offence to Mrs. Wang, but I’d rather kill myself than be your mother.”
Nicholas, in a show of immense maturity and intellectualism, blew raspberries at Fuma. Then he grabbed Euijoo’s arm, and moved to leave. “Whatever. I don’t even know why I went here in the first place. Come on, Juju, let’s leave.”
At that moment, Harua stuck his head into the living room again.
“That was it. All ghostly activities should be done now.” He walked back to the spot at the coffe table, where he had been sitting before, and picked up his bag. “Now, if anything happens again, don’t hesitate to contact me.” He handed Kei a business card. The design was quite intricate, and printed on thick, velvety paper. Shigeta Harua, it said, and then under that, medium, ouija, ghost cleansings, tarot, horoscope, photography, catering, modelling, graphic design, social media marketing, nail tech.
“Are you licensed for all of this?” Kei asked, curious, but most of all confused by Harua’s extensive resume.
“If you want me to be,” He just replied. Then he joined Nicholas and Euijoo by the door. “Now, this session is on me. Let’s say it’s a friends’ discount.” He threw Euijoo the second nasty look of the day. Kei didn’t know what that was all about. Probably none of her business anyways.
“Thank you,” Kei said, trying to sound genuinely thankful that she wasn’t made to pay for a service she didn’t ask for. “That ghost better stay away.”
“They don’t tend to linger after a session. If they do, it’s because they’ve grown attached to the people in the house.”
“Okay, so there’s still a chance he will come back?” Kei scratched the back of her neck.
“I didn’t say that.” And with that, Harua left the apartment. This air of mystery he was trying to uphold, really wasn’t very reassuring for people scared of ghosts. Nicholas and Euijoo followed closely after.
Fuma was the only one who lingered. “Do you feel ok?” She asked, concern written in her voice.
“Yeah. Sure, that was wild, but…”
“Yeah…”
They stood in silence for a couple of seconds. Kei looked at Fuma, and Fuma smiled.
“You know… If you hear something in the night, you can always call me. Like.. If you’re scared.” Fuma said. There was this look on her face that Kei couldn’t really place. She could take a hint, however.
When Fuma turned to the door again, Kei stopped her with a hand on her wrist. “You can come over any time.” She just said and pulled Fuma in by her arm. Then she leaned down and placed a kiss right on her lips. “See you.”
—
That night Kei lay in her bed staring at the uneven grain of the ceiling. Old buildings came with thin walls, and someone was banging doors beneath her, and pacing around above her.
It wasn’t the noise that was the issue, however. Mostly her brain just wouldn’t stop going. First she wondered whether that suspiciously water-damage-looking stain in the corner was a sign of mold to come. Then she thought about what it would cost to have the mold removed, or if she could just live with it. Her health was great right now, but would mold impact her respiratory health? She also thought a little bit about the ghost. She thought about whether Harua was a scammer or not. And then she also thought about Fuma.
Kei’s stream of consciousness was cut off by a noise that sounded like it came from inside her room. Maybe it was just the creaking of the window frame, giving in to the wind. Or maybe it was vibrations from a slamming door somewhere else in the building. She listened intently now, eyes wide open and staring into the darkness of her room.
The sound came again.
Kei sat up in her bed, head whipping around trying to see in the dark. As her eyes slowly adjusted, a silhouette in the corner came into focus. Her shock was like a slap to her face and she screamed as she jumped out of her bed, scrambling for the light switch. In the chaos of it all, she managed to get her foot tangled up in her sheets and fall out of bed, landing face down on the floor. She only just managed not to knock herself unconscious on the corner of her desk.
Laying there on the floor for a few seconds, Kei’s heart was beating out of her chest, racing harder than when she’d just ran a marathon. She gathered herself enough to push off the floor and crawl to the wall where the light switch was located. With a bated breath she flipped on the light switch.
In the newfound brightness of the room, Kei could see the silhouette more clearly. It was clearly not a ghost, but just a long dress that had gotten all crumbled during the move, and she therefore had hung out with the purpose of steaming it.
Kei couldn’t believe her own stupidity, and let her body fall flat on the floor again. Her laughter came bubbling out without meaning to.
As she was considering whether she should finally see a psychiatrist, there was a knock on her front door. At the hour of half past midnight or so, that was quite unexpected. Kei went to the front door and looked out into the hallway through the peephole. What she saw on the other side of the door was Fuma, looking up and down the hall, scanning her surroundings. Kei opened the door up, relieved to see a familiar face upon her ghostly encounter.
As soon as Fuma layed eyes on Kei, her expression shifted into worry. “Are you okay? I heard a loud bumping sound and then you were yelling.” She said, scanning Kei for injuries.
“I’m fine now,” Kei responded, heart still beating fast and breath catching in her throat. This ghost stuff was really taking its toll on her.
“What happened, though?” She looked so genuinely worried, it was sweet and almost a little bit funny.
Kei laughed. “You won’t believe this. I’ll show you.” She pulled Fuma into her apartment by the arm. Fuma went willingly and patiently along. Kei led Fuma to her room, where she presented the scene of the crime, and Fuma inspected the room with the grave expression and serious attention of a criminal detective at a murder scene.
“You fell out of bed?” Fuma asked seriously.
“Well, yeah, kinda,” Kei said, stepping up next to the closet. “I was trying to sleep, but I couldn’t, and there were all the noises…”
“It’s an old building.”
“Yes, but the sounds were like inside this room,”
Fuma looked around, like she was trying to locate a possible source of noises. “Are you sure?”
“Well, at least that’s what it sounded like. Anyways, then suddenly I thought I saw the silhouette of a person, and I panicked and tried to stand up, but my foot got all tangled up and then I fell.” Kei recounted, hands flailing about as she spoke.
The wrinkle between Fuma’s brows got deeper. “Are you hurt?” She stepped closer and put her hands on Kei’s shoulders, once again trying to locate an injury. Up close, Kei was looking down at her. She noted that Fuma’s very grim expression made her look even cuter.
“I promise I’m fine,” Kei giggled, but let herself get sat down on the bed after Fuma shoveled her sheets back up from the floor.
“I’ll check anyway,” Fuma said, looking her in the eyes intently.
Kei smiled, feeling infinitely fond. “I haven't even gotten to the funny part yet,” She sighed.
“And what is that?” Fuma asked as she turned Kei’s arm over, still concentrating on her inspection.
“That the silhouette was just my dress.” She pointed to her closet and the jade green dress hanging on the front.
“Really?” Fuma looked up shortly, her laughter reduced to a short huff before she abruptly pulled Kei’s leg into her lap.
“Oh.” Kei felt her face reach a boiling point. She froze up, heart beating at an increasingly rappid pace.
Oblivious, Fuma kneaded away at Kei’s thigh.
“Oh,” Kei said again, this time more airy. “That feels nice.”
Fuma hummed, pressing down on the muscle just above her knee. “Your legs must be sore after all that running you do,” She said, making it sound oh so reasonable.
Kei nodded, despite this not being the case. As she was used to running. Still. It did feel really really nice. “Yes. Yes they are.”
“Lay down. I’ll massage the other one as well.”
Kei swallowed audibly, but followed the orders like her life depended on it. She lay down on her stomach, letting Fuma seat herself over her calves. Kei remembered then that she was in nothing but her panties and an oversized tshirt. She pulled down the hem of her shirt so it covered her ass at least.
Fuma ran her warm hands all the way down the back of Kei’s thighs. Kei tried her hardest to concentrate on her breathing and not the humming feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“You have very pretty legs.” Fuma stated, matter of factly, as she pressed down on Kei’s thigh, pulling her hand downwards.
“Oh,” Kei found herself repeating. “Thank you.”
“Mhhh,” Fuma hummed. Her hands were really so capable. And firm.
Fuma pressed down on her thighs continuously. Kei sighed and melted into the mattress, feeling like her body was turning into jelly. She closed her eyes, letting her breathing even out and heart rate drop to something more manageable.
When Fuma had kneaded the back of Kei’s legs like she was lovingly shaping a dough before placing it in the oven, baking it and eating it with a thin spread of salted butter, she patted the side of Kei’s knee.
“Better?” She asked.
Kei turned to look at her, head feeling drowsy, body relaxed. “Yeah…” She trailed off as she was taking in Fuma, who was looming above her. “Maybe the frontside could use a massage as well.” She said in a small voice, batting her lashes.
“Okay.” Fuma lifted herself to her knees to make space for Kei to turn around. Kei pushed herself further up the bed, resting her back against the pillows. Fuma moved closer, positioning herself in between Kei’s thighs, kneeling. She spread her palms on Kei’s left leg, pressing down hard. Kei sucked in a breath sharply at the touch, which brough out a pang of soreness.
“Sorry. Did that hurt?” Fuma asked, looking Kei in the eyes.
“No, no. Only a good pain. Please continue.” Kei heard her own voice coming out low and almost whispered. She held her breath.
After massaging one thigh and then the other meticulously, Fuma’s hands slowed to a stop. Instead she let her hand run from the hem of Kei’s oversized shirt all the way to her knee. Kei looked up at her in wonder.
“So firm…” Fuma said, almost in a daze. “Can I take a bite?” She said as she continued stroking Kei’s thighs like it was the most casual thing in the world.
“Huh?” Kei thought she might have heard wrong.
“Your thighs. I want to take a bite.” Fuma looked her in the eyes again. Her unwavering gaze felt heavy and exposing, like she had already undressed Kei with nothing but her eyes and her words.
“O-okay,” Kei stammered.
But Fuma didn’t bite. She leaned down close to Kei’s knee. Her breath ghosted over her skin, sending goosebumps travelling all over her body. Kei shivered and squirmed, hips moving on the sheets with a rustling sound. Fumas hands were warm on her knees. She closed the small space where her breath had blown across Kei’s shivering surface and finally pressed her lips to her skin. It was soft. Cautious.
Fuma raised her head again, looking Kei in the eyes as if searching for permission. Kei nodded eagerly and bit her lip in answer.
And then Fuma seemed to let go of whatever had been holding her back. With her hands she spread Kei’s legs further while pressing kisses up her inner thigh. Kei’s hand landed at the back of Fuma’s head, softly holding her, guiding her closer and closer.
With her other hand, Fuma grabbed onto Kei’s hip and in the same motion, she pushed Kei’s tshirt above the waist of her panties, exposing the pink, slightly see-through fabric.
Kei guided Fuma’s head up, out of her crotch, until they were face-to-face again. They sat there still for a few seconds, breathing each other in while coming to silent agreement. Then Kei closed the distance between them completely as she pulled Fuma into a kiss.
It was brief at first. They pulled apart and just looked at each other with twin smiles on their faces. Then Fuma leaned in again, or Kei did, she couldn’t really tell. All that mattered was that they were kissing again, slow and soft.
Kei let herself get pressed down on her back as Fuma became more insistent. She licked at her mouth and Kei parted her lips on instinct, letting her in. It tasted like toothpaste and something sweeter.
Fuma broke away again and spoke. “Do you want me to continue what I was doing before?”
“Eating me?”
“Yeah…”
“Okay. But don’t bite too hard,” Kei said with a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. She relaxed her body, melting into the mattress again.
Fuma didn’t have to be told twice. She immediately got back to where she left off, kissing Kei’s thigh tenderly, while pushing up her shirt to lay her legs completely bare. Fuma also stopped her kisses to suck at Kei’s skin occationally, or letting her tongue run over a spot, sending Kei into a fit of goosebumps.
When Fuma reached the crease of Kei’s thigh, she didn’t stop. Instead she burrowed her nose between Kei’s legs, breathing her in. Kei sucked in a breath, shocked from being touched where she was the most sensitive.
“You smell good.” Fuma’s voice sounded dazed. Kei giggled as Fuma kissed the warmth between her legs. Fuma’s breath tickled her, making Kei squirm. She was again pinned to the mattress by a strong hand pressing down on her hip as Fuma continued to kiss her over the thin fabric of her panties. Kei felt herself clench, longing for actual contact.
“Kei-chan,” Fuma mumbled as her hands came up to paw at Kei’s shirt. “Can you take this off?” She said, sounding almost shy despite her very direct actions.
“Of course I can,” Kei said eagerly, and then added, “For you, Fuu-chan.” She then unceremoniously and unseductively pulled her tshirt over her head. The edge of it was caught in the crease under her breasts, making them bounce up and down one time. Kei felt it more than saw it, as her head was caught up in her shirt, but when she had finally freed herself and discarded the shirt further down on the bed, she caught Fuma staring transfixed at her chest.
“Do you like what you see?” Kei asked, holding back her laugh.
Fuma blinked. “Yes,” was all she said before moving further up Kei’s body, pressing her face between her boobs and squishing them together around her face. Fuma turned her head to one side and then the other, leaving kisses on each of Kei’s tits, the look on her face being somewhat similar to a person having just entered the pearly gates of heaven–total bliss. Kei stroked her hair as Fuma moved to her nipple, cautiously sticking her tongue out to lick around and then over the swelling bud.
“Mhh,” Kei hummed, her fingers gliding through Fuma’s hair, lightly scratching at her scalp, while she was preoccupied with sucking on her nipple. “That’s nice, baby,” She cooed.
Fuma moved over to her other nipple repeating the same action, licking and sucking. Kei breathed out a moan when Fuma’s hand left its former spot on her hip, fingers gliding up along her crevice over her panties. Her thumb found Kei’s clit and rubbed a few circles over it. Even through the fabric, Kei felt the touch like electricity. Her legs spasmed shortly and she couldn’t hold back the loud moan that escaped her this time.
“Fuu-chan,” She gasped. Fuma detached her mouth from her nipple with a loud smack. “God, Fuu-chan. You really are so capable.” Kei watched as a blush spread across Fuma’s cheeks. She lowered her head shyly, avoiding eye-contact.
“I have to confess something,” Fuma said, her face almost tomato coloured. “It’s a little embarrassing.”
“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s no problem,” Kei reassured, reaching for Fuma’s chin to turn her face back towards herself. “I won’t judge.”
Fuma blinked up at her, glassy eyed and red cheeked, as she hesitated to speak out loud whatever was on her mind. Kei stroked her cheek gently.
“It’s just that I’ve never…” Fuma started, letting the implication hang in the air unspoken.
“With a woman?”
“Just in general. Kinda.”
“Oh honey, that’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Kei said. She smiled down at Fuma, whose cheek was resting on her chest again. “You’re doing great so far.”
Fuma’s worries seemed to lighten with the praise. “Can I still try? To eat you out?”
“If that’s what you want.”
She didn’t have to say that twice. Fuma practically did a nose dive in between Kei’s legs. She mouthed at her cunt over her panties, making them even wetter than they already felt. Her arms snuck around Kei’s thighs, holding her down against the mattress. When she finally had enough of the taste of cotton, Fuma lifted herself up again, forearms flexing. Kei bit down on her own tongue.
Kei’s panties were pulled off in a similar manner to the way she had pulled off her own shirt. Fuma’s eyes grew narrower as she lowered herself down on her stomach again. She looked up at Kei with a certain hunger in her eyes before cautiously spreading her lips open with two fingers.
“Come here, baby,” Kei coaxed. She put her hand on the back of Fuma’s head, leading her to her pussy. Fuma opened her mouth, breathing hot air over the sensitive folds before placing a light kiss on Kei’s bare clit. She then licked all the way from Kei’s hole to her clit a few times, before focusing her attention on the protruding bud again.
Kei sighed in encouragement, stroking Fuma’s soft hair soothingly. “That feels good, baby,” She said, making her voice low and seductive. Fuma let out a small whimper in response.
It did feel good. Despite Fuma’s lack of experience, her tongue was warm and wet as she licked and sucked between Kei’s thighs. She had to hold herself back from grinding her hips onto Fuma’s face, instead giving her the chance to explore with her mouth.
After having given plenty of attention to Kei’s clit, Fuma discovered her hole. It was nearly dripping with wetness at that point. Kei felt sticky and slick as Fuma lapped enthusiastically at her hole. Her tongue poked at the entrance, but only teasing and not thrusting all the way inside. Kei breathed heavily, her noises coming out in moans like she was gasping for air.
“Fuu-chan, put your tongue inside me,” Kei moaned, and Fuma obliged her request. She finally stuck out her tongue and prodded around carefully. It was nowhere near enough, only a mild rush of pleasure to the previous lightning fire. Kei needed more. “Use your fingers as well,” Kei instructed.
Fuma broke contact with Kei’s slicked up cunt long enough for Kei to raise herself on her elbows and take in the sight of her. Fuma was on her stomach, still fully dressed–if you could even call those illegally short shorts proper clothes–and now with her head raised, Kei could see that she was flushed all over, mouth glistening with Kei’s slick or her own spit or probably both at the same time. She looked angelic–the bright innocence of her brown eyes in sharp contrast to the lewdness of her mouth.
“Kei-chan,” Fuma whispered.
“Yes, baby,” Kei replied.
“Can you…” She hesitated, breaking eye contact. Her face was so red and Kei wanted to coo at her and wrap her in her arms and drench her in a shower of kisses. “Can you sit on my face?”
“Baby,” Kei exclaimed, mouth falling open, but a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “How naughty you are. Such a bad girl.”
Fuma hid her head in her hands in embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” she whined.
“Don’t be, baby. Of course I will. You are doing so great, it’s like you have practiced eating pussy for years.”
The compliment made Fuma look up from her hands. A shy smile spread on her face. “O-okay. What should I do?”
Kei guided Fuma onto her back, making sure to gently place a pillow under her head. Then she seated herself over Fuma’s chest, scootching backwards until she could feel her breath against her ass. Fuma held Kei open with a hand on each of her cheeks.
“So pretty,” Kei heard Fuma mumble before she dove in with her tongue.
“Yes, just like that,” Kei praised, bending herself further back to chase the feeling of Fuma’s tongue against her clit.
When she was seated like this, Kei had a full view of Fuma’s body. Her top had ridden up, exposing her toned stomach, which was convulsing slightly.
“So good for me, baby. You haven’t asked me to touch you or even touched yourself yet.” This gained her another whine from behind her back. “Let me help you.”
Then Kei pushed at Fuma’s shorts, beginning to wiggle them down over her hips. Fuma lifted her pelvis, helping to slip off both her shorts and panties. Kei bent down over her body, studying the scattering of dark hair between Fuma’s strong thighs. Kei thought that her body must have been sculpted with careful attention. The way muscles strained under her pale, smooth skin was tantilizing to watch. Kei thought she could probably sit there all day with Fuma’s face buried in her cunt, while she meticulously studied every centimeter of her body.
Kei grinded backward, matching the rhythm of Fuma’s licks, and she spread her legs with soft hands. Bending down further, Kei parted the hair that was covering Fuma’s crevice like it was keeping a secret, and Kei felt honoured to be the first one to uncover what wonders lay beneath. And what that was–the prettiest pink pussy, wet and glistening, clit swollen and hard. Kei’s mouth watered, so she immediately began licking at with the thirst of someone coming out of a dessert. And well, it had been a while since she had gotten laid.
A muffled moan sounded from Fuma, where she was nose deep in Kei’s cunt, and that was enough encouragement for her to keep going. Before long they were both out of breath, helplessly grinding away at each other's faces. It was hard to breathe, but Kei didn’t mind it even for a second.
To her surprise, Fuma suddenly inserted two fingers into her hole. She let out a loud moan at the intrusion, her legs shaking for a second before she got used to the feeling.
“It’s so wet,” Fuma said with wonder in her voice. Kei leaned her hips back, making Fuma’s fingers sink deeper inside her. She took Kei’s motion as an encouragement to move her fingers. She slowly thrusted them in and out a couple of times, rubbing over the spot that made Kei’s legs twitch. The friction was nice, but the stretch was not enough.
“Add another finger, sweetie,” Kei guided lovingly.
“Yes, mommy,” They both froze at the name coming out of Fuma’s mouth. Fuma’s hand, which wasn’t currently inside Kei fell away from where it had been holding onto her thigh. “I-” Fuma started, but Kei interrupted her.
“Keep going, baby. Mommy likes it.” For good measure, Kei rubbed a finger over Fuma’s clit, signalling for her to continue. And she did. She inserted a third finger, and curled her fingers at just the right angle to make Kei cry out.
Kei began licking at Fuma’s clit again. Fuma was getting worked up, her leg lifting up so they were framing Kei’s head. At this point, the room was hot, and the ghosts were long forgotten. Only the wet sound of their cunts filled Kei’s ears and the scent of Fuma was all around her. She felt hot, her stomach rolling with intense pleasure. It wouldn’t be long until she reached her climax if Fuma kept thrusting her fingers in that way, and lapping her tongue over Kei’s clit like that.
Kei focused on Fuma’s clit again, teasing at it with the tip of her tongue in a way that made Fuma moan and whine into Kei’s cunt. It was hard to care about the thin walls or the open window when you and your hot neighbour were eating each other out, so Kei did nothing to lower her own volume either. She hoped the pervy ghost got what he was looking for as she kept licking Fuma’s clit insistently.
Right before Kei tipped over the edge, Fuma snuck her free hand around her waist and rubbed her back and the moment somehow felt devastatingly tender in contrast to the way she was vigorously getting fingered, her spot being met over and over again by the curl of Fuma’s rough fingers.
She didn’t have more time to think, before she was coming, and involuntarily rubbing herself all over Fuma’s face as she spasmed around her fingers. Only a few seconds later, Fuma’s moans, which had been getting increasingly higher in pitch, came to a choked out stop, and her thighs clamped shut around Kei’s head.
Kei felt dizzy and out of it as she collapsed on top of Fuma’s body, her head resting against her thigh. She could hear Fuma gasping for air, but she didn’t stop gently rubbing her back. They didn’t say a word for a good few minutes, until Kei pushed herself up on all fours, turned back around and flopped down next to Fuma, who was laying flat on her back like a plank.
“Holy shit,” Fuma murmured.
“Good?” Kei asked.
“I should ask you that. It was amazing for me.”
“Well, I came first, didn’t I?”
“Really?” Fuma turned her head to look at Kei. There was a certain wonder in her eyes.
“You’re kinda awesome at this.” Kei turned on her side, throwing an arm over Fuma’s waist.
“Don’t lie to make me feel good,” Fuma said, her shyness evident in the reddening of her cheeks.
“I would never,” Kei laughed.
They fell asleep together after Kei wiped off Fuma’s face. No more noises came that night, only the hum of cicadas and the rustling of leaves from outside.
—
In the morning Fuma snuck back into her own apartment. It was neither particularly early or particularly late, which meant that she was surprised to see both her roommates present in the kitchen eating breakfast together.
Their conversation ceased mid-sentence when Fuma’s head popped in through the front door. She looked at both of them and then headed straight to her room, avoiding eye contact. She didn’t get far, however, before Nicholas spoke.
“And where have you been all night, young lady,” He said in an impression of a dad catching his teenage daughter sneaking out.
“Um…” There was really no way out of this.
“Sounded like you two had fun,” Nicholas added, amusement evident in his voice.
“Ugh.” They really should have thought about keeping a bit more quiet.
“I hope you stayed safe and left room for Jesus and remembered to pray before and after to resolve your sins.” God, this man needed a good old fashioned beating. He wasn’t even religious.
“No we didn’t. I ate her pussy raw, and she ate mine and then we made a deal with Satan in exchange for your first born.”
“Hey, Maki has done nothing to deserve this.” Nicholas crossed his arms and flung his head to the side dramatically.
“Whatever,” Fuma said and left them in the kitchen to go take a well deserved, long shower.