Chapter Text
Yotsuya Miko opened the door and stepped into her humble abode, her entire body stiff and tense. Shucking off her shoes, Miko could hear the sounds of her mother putting about in the kitchen, the scent of curry quickly filling the whole house.
“Tadaima,” Miko called out.
“Okaeri!” Her mother replied, stepping out of the kitchen and greeting her with a warm smile. “Had a nice day at school, sweetie?”
“Yeah,” was all Miko managed to say, as she watched the horse ghost emerge from behind her mother.
She knew by now that the spectre didn't mean harm–judging by how familiar her dad was with it–but its appearance still disturbed her to no end. Yotsuya Mamoru popped out not long after, a loving smile on his face.
“Miko-chan! Okaeri!” Her father then paused, brows raised in surprise at what dangled from her fingers. “Oh? You bought some pork buns? Won't it spoil your appetite so close to dinner?”
“You look tired, Miko,” her mother noted, concerned. “And the meat’s nowhere near done. How about you take a nap, hm?”
Miko pursed her lips as the horse spectre loomed closer, curious. She tersely nodded and made a break for the stairs, hoping against all hope that nothing from the realm of the mystical would await her there.
“Oh, she must be so tired,” Miko heard her mother faintly say.
Miko yanked the door to her bedroom open and slipped inside, heaving a large sigh as she shut the door behind her. The first sight that greeted her was, thankfully, not a ghost at all. But a face she's become more than acquainted with in the past few months.
“Yo.”
Zenin Toji waved lazily at her from where he lounged like a well-fed cat on her bed. The window was open, her curtains fluttering in the wind, showing her just how Toji got in. While Miko sent a flat look his way, inside, she was elated to see him. Ghosts never appeared whenever he was around. Miko didn't know why, but she didn't care. Because a full night's rest awaited her.
“You’re back,” was all she said instead, dumping her schoolbag by her study desk.
Toji hummed, his voice rumbling low in his chest.
“I haven’t seen you in over three weeks,” Miko murmured, shrugging off her coat, and taking her books out of her bag.
“Did ya miss me, baby?”
“I do miss my heater. My toes were cold all week, Toji-kun,” Miko retorted, wriggling her socked toes at him.
Toji remained silent this time, watching her with an inscrutable expression. Miko looked up from where she was sorting her schoolbooks at Toji's sudden silence, his usual teasing ceasing suddenly.
“What?” Miko blinked.
“Has it been getting worse?”
At the question, Miko stiffened, hands stilling. And her sharp-eyed friend caught it immediately. Things had been escalating, and it seemed as though her ‘third eye’ has been expanding with each day that passes. She had been trying her best to find a solution, but so far, that solution had been Toji, but his job takes him away for weeks at a time.
Miko knew how it looked. A 23-year-old hanging around a 16-year-old would usually mean speed-dialling the police. But Miko didn't care at this point. She was running out of options, and she couldn't waste time wondering why Toji stuck around so long, nor why'd he be willing to. And it didn't hurt that he believed her from the beginning, even though he couldn't see the ghosts themselves.
“It has, hasn't it?” Toji pressed, and though his tone remained uncaring, his eyes held a sheen of concern.
“Does it matter?” Miko said tiredly, walking over to slump gracelessly on her bed. “I'm no closer to finding a solution.”
“What about those prayer beads you texted me about?”
“They shattered into pieces the moment I put them on,” was her mumbled, dispirited reply.
Toji’s eyes widened. “No shit,”
“And they're the Godmother’s premium beads, too-”
“Godmother?”
“-and I broke them and pushed her into retirement,” Miko continued glumly. “Apparently, those beads were blessed.”
“Are you sure she isn't a con artist?”
“Maybe I should go to a shrine instead,” Miko thought aloud, as if Toji hadn't spoken. She then sat up, reinvigorated, a finger in the air. “A direct source should work!”
Toji grunted in agreement. “Tell me if it does,”
Miko looked at him, as if she were forgetting something. Then her eyes strayed to her study desk and she gave a yelp of realisation.
“The pork buns!” Miko cried, scrambling off the bed to fetch the discarded plastic bag. Thankfully, the buns were still steaming and she gave a sigh of relief.
Returning to her bed and to the giant establishing temporary ownership over it, she tossed the bag onto his lap.
Toji, who had already sat up by then, blinked in surprise. Then his signature roguish smirk appeared on his face, stretching the scar on the edge of his lip.
“Awww, this for me?”
“Baka, we're sharing it,” she retorted, climbing up the bed again. She shoved her hand into the bag and snatched a bun, biting into it with relish.
Toji, like the ravenous pig he is, made quick work of the first bun. He was already making his way through a second as Miko was still nibbling at her first.
“Oh yeah, how's it going with Fushiguro?”
Toji paused, teeth clenched around a strip of bread. He swallowed, then mumbled a quick, “It didn't work out,”
“Huh? I thought for sure she was the one for you,”
Fushiguro Miyu was pretty, funny, and an extremely kind person. In fact, Toji had brought Miko along with him to meet her once before. Not only did Miko thoroughly enjoy her company, but she could tell Toji did too. She thought for sure that it would be a home-run for the couple.
“Who broke it off?”
“I did,” Toji replied without missing a beat.
Now that really caught her off guard.
“W-Wha–Why?”
“She wanted you gone,” Toji bluntly stated. Miko’s face went slack with shock. It stung slightly that someone as pure as Fushiguro Miyu didn't actually like her.
What exactly did she do to make Fushiguro dislike her? Miko couldn't think of a single thing she did wrong.
“Ain't you,” Toji said, breaking through her train of thought as if he'd just read her mind. “She liked you. But she didn't think it was right that you're around me, said it was wrong, and to let ya go or it's over ‘tween us,”
Well, Fushiguro-san wasn't entirely wrong, Miko thought. In truth, Miko thought it odd that Fushiguro didn’t react at all when the ‘close friend of Toji's’ she was meeting turned out to be a high school girl. But she actually did, just not to her.
“Then what did you say to her?”
“Told her goodbye and walked away,” Toji shrugged when he saw that Miko's jaw had slipped open. “Haven't seen her since.”
“T-Toji! Oh my god, that’s so…so…” Miko found herself at a loss for words, before finally settling with, “I thought you really liked her,”
Toji shrugged again, preoccupied with his snack, though Miko was sure he’ll ask her to bring up a plate later.
“You’re better,” was his simple answer.
Miko felt her face heat up and she shoved her pork bun into her mouth. Sometimes Toji would say things that made her think he meant something by it, but it wasn't possible. In Miko’s mind, she must be just another kid to him, one who's far too scared of her own shadow. And besides, she didn't have Fushiguro-san’s curves or mature sophistication, or Hana’s bright-eyed beauty and big boobs. Miko knew Toji liked those, having seen him shamelessly reading a porn mag or two.
He's probably just amused by her.
“Whatcha gettin’ all shy and quiet for, huh?” Toji teased, drawing her attention when she felt him softly poke her cheek.
Miko chewed on her next bite of pork bun. Toji dumped his girlfriend for her, left her for her. He chose to break it off with someone Miko believed he genuinely liked because he didn’t favour the prospect of Miko no longer being in his life. He could’ve left her to fend for herself, could’ve left without explanation or justification. Because in truth, Toji had no obligation to her, nor to their strange relationship. But he didn’t. Toji chose her.
A warm feeling filled her chest. Miko swallowed her food and gave Toji a bright smile.
“You’re my favourite person too, Toji,”
Toji’s smirk faded and his eyes widened slightly. He looked away quickly, the tips of his ears reddening as he went back to eating his pork bun. His long bangs hid his eyes from view and Miko had to resist the urge to giggle. He was quite adorable when he got bashful, which was something that rarely happened.
The two ate in comfortable silence, which was broken by Toji not long after.
“Oh yeah,” Toji grunted, rifling through his pockets, “here.”
He shoved a thick stack of cash her way. Miko had never seen such a large amount in her life. For some unidentifiable reason, Toji had been giving her a share of the cash from his jobs not long after they’d met. She’d always refuse, but he’d end up slipping it into her bag or leaving it in her desk drawer when she wasn’t looking. Miko rarely ended up using the money Toji gave her, though a healthy nest egg has been steadily building up in her bank account, enough to fund the first year of university.
“There must be thousands here,” Miko muttered, sighing. “You know you don’t have to give me any money right?”
Her father might have died, but the Yotsuyas could still manage with whatever’s left from Mamoru’s savings and retirement account. All this to say, they weren’t in a state of near-penury.
“I know.” Toji answered, and left it at that. No justification, no reasoning. It was what she’d expected from her friend.
“Miko! Kyosuke!” Her mother’s voice called from downstairs, interrupting them. “Dinner’s ready!”
Miko startled, before shoving her unfinished pork bun at him. “Finish this, would you?” Then turned to answer her mother. “Coming!” Miko then proceeded to return the money to Toji, knowing she’ll find it under her pillow later.
“Oi,” Toji’s voice called out from behind her, her hand inches away from the doorknob. She looked over her shoulder at him, expectant. “Save me a plate, yeah?”
Miko rolled her eyes, before opening the door and heading downstairs for dinner.