The sun brought me into consciousness. I moved my limbs, feeling the comfortable support of a bed beneath me. When I opened my eyes, I knew where I was, but not how I got there.

I rolled over, flinching at Jiji's presence. She sat on the bed beside me, peering down with her judgmental green eyes, flipping the tip of her tail back and forth.

"Don't look at me like that, Jiji. I've watched you shit in a box."

She stood and hopped off the bed, looking back before she went down the stairs.

I rolled over with a sigh. He still used the silk pillowcases I brought him. They smelled only like him. In the drawer of the side table, my hair scarf and emergency change of clothes still sat, folded and clean. In the bathroom, my toothbrush sat in the cup next to his. Seeing that made my chest hurt worse than my head.

After quietly cleaning up and redressing, I crept downstairs.

I found him on the sofa, fully dressed as if going to work, and conveniently turned away from the stairs. For a moment, I thought about sneaking past him and leaving before he could see me, but before I could try, Jiji gained Susu's attention with a loud meow. Little snitch.

My furry bestie left Ryuzo's side and ran over to me with her little squeaks, causing him to look up. "Mina-chan."

My heart squeezed when I heard him say my name and saw him looking at me for the first time in days. "Hey."

He stood from the couch. Susu accepted her requested ear scratches, then ran off — Jiji's evil plot completed. I took a few steps closer to the entryway, still thinking about running out.

"How are you feeling?" he asked in a timid voice.

I glared at him, hating how concerned he looked. "Better than I have all week."

His gaze dropped with guilt. I made my way toward the door, not wanting to let him convince me he gave a shit.

"Mina-chan," he stopped me with a hand on my arm. "I found you unconscious on my doorstep last night. You scared the fuck out of me. Please don't go before I know you are okay."

I pressed my lips together, trying to fight my urge to cry. His touch, his words, made every inch of my skin ache with a myriad of emotions. It was the pain of knowing I shouldn't want something that hurt me so much, the regret that I ever let myself open to be hurt in the first place, and the impossible desire to wash it all away and go back to what we were before.

I was most definitely not okay.

"I'm going to be late for work." I pulled myself from him and went for the door.

He moved himself in front of me, blocking my way. "You have two hours before you need to be at work. Please sit and talk to me. Let me explain."

"I don't need you to explain anything. You hurt me, just like you wanted. Now leave me alone."

"I didn't want to hurt you, Mina-chan."

"Bullshit."

"I didn't!"

"Then what did you want?! What did you expect to happen when you ripped my fucking heart out like I meant nothing to you?!" My hurt came out louder than I could control. Screaming at him was the most relief I had felt since it had happened.

He wrapped his arm around my waist. "Mina, stop."

I pushed him with both hands. He stumbled back. "Leave me. Alone."

He grabbed my arm again. I turned around and slapped him across the face. He stood motionless afterward, accepting it.

I gasped, realizing what I had done. "Shit. I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry," I cried while I kissed his cheek over and over. "I'm so sorry."

He turned my face to his and kissed my lips. I gave in for a few seconds, then pushed him away. He pulled my face back to his. In my weak attempt to struggle, we stumbled back until my back hit the wall, then my body gave in. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer and returning his passionate kisses with desperation.

He held my face in his hands, pressing his body against mine. "I feel like I am dying without you," his voice a pained whisper between kisses. "Stay with me." Another kiss. "Please."

His words melted my resolve. His kiss — the only kiss I've ever craved — set me on fire. I wanted a moment to have him close again. As close as possible.

I reached down and pulled at his fly. He reached up my skirt and ripped my underwear down to my thighs. His fingers slid between my legs, my body shuddering with his touch. His tongue slipped between my lips at the same time as his fingers easily glided inside me.

As desperate as I was for him, he was already hard as a rock, too. I wrapped my hand around him while he pushed his pants down his hips. Not a second later, he picked me up, draping my legs over his arms. I held myself up on his shoulders while he pushed into me.

Our lips were a breath away when we shared a sigh of relief, ecstasy . . . My eyes opened to find his.

"Do you see how much I miss you, Mina-chan? I want you. I always want you."

"Part of me," I chided.

A hard thrust pushed him so deep, my eyes rolled and my cruel words disappeared with a moan. "All of you," he said. "Only you."

He took me there against the wall, his thrusts hard and fast, his heavy breaths and moans against my mouth. My pussy, deliciously stretched to its limit, fluttered around him as if I were already close. I convinced myself this was all I wanted. Sex and nothing else. But that just wasn't true.

I held him close, closing my eyes and feeling the way our bodies fit perfectly together, the way our pleasure matched at every step, the way I melted for him. I trusted him, felt at home in his arms. Being with him made every part of my body, mind, and soul sing. I loved him.

I kissed him again, tangling my fingers into his hair. His lips lingered long, only breaking for a breath, as if he didn't want each kiss to end.

"Ah! Baby," I whimpered when I felt close. 

He moved faster, grew harder, hit me in all the right places. I was right there, ready to burst, but I held on, waiting for something. Waiting for him.

He moaned my name, "Mina," and that was it for me.

We came together, both of us moaning and clinging to each other while he spilled himself inside me. My pussy milked him with every hard clench and release.

As the feeling washed through me, I reveled in the blissful blankness of my mind. We were alone. No pain, no responsibility. But the more I calmed, the more reality came back.

Ryuzo looked at me with heavy eyes and heavy breath, tasting his bottom lip as if holding back words. I read the thoughts on his face.

"This doesn't change anything, does it?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

He didn't answer before pulling me into a kiss. We shouldn't have done that. It only made it hurt worse.

He slipped from me and gingerly set me back on my feet. I pulled my panties back up, cynically wanting to hold on to the mess that would soon be inside them. He watched me as he zipped his fly.

Redressed, I went to the door, not looking back.

"Mina-chan." He wouldn't get me to stop this time. "I love you."

I walked out without a word.

. . .

As expected, I was a wreck. I ended up calling in sick, giving myself two days to recover, knowing Ayumi and Kat would assume I was hungover. I was. Emotionally. Whether or not I was sick, I wasn't in a place to care for my patients the way they needed and deserved. I took my two days off to sleep, hydrate, and remember why I was here.

I could sit in my grief. Losing my grandmother, Vince, and my identity within three years should have made that easy for me. But this was different.

When I returned to work, I took the long way around the block to the train station, barely peeking over my shoulder to verify that Ryuzo was still gone. The pain was a little less today, I noted. I was getting used to it.

The first eight hours of work flew by. It was a busy day, the ER full of respiratory ailments in children. Worried parents weighed on me to answer questions the doctors didn't have time to provide, not knowing I was less able to answer their questions than their own child. It is a cough. Testing for RSV. Allergies? I possessed such a wide, helpful vocabulary.

By the time I could return to Ayumi and my regular team in the ICU, a sudden wave of emotion threatened. I ignored it, but my tear ducts did not. On the way to cry in the bathroom, I looked up and stopped in my tracks.

Ori passed in front of me with a doctor. His eyes widened at the same time as mine. What is he doing here?

He stopped walking and turned back to his colleague, looking like he was asking for a moment, but before he could look at me again, someone was dragging me by the arm into a room.

I found the familiar beauty, her face adorned with silver piercings and an expression ready to burst with tea. "Kat, what the h—"

"Ayumi and I had sex," she said.

My disbelief made me short-circuit for a second. "What?"

"Yeah."

"Kat."

"I know."

"What the actual fuck?"

"You weren't here after our night out. I was going to tell you then," she explained the wrong thing.

"Was that why you left me at the club?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. I was getting vibes. After we left, we took the same stop, and when we said goodbye, she just . . ." She stared into space rather than finishing.

"Katrina."

"Sorry. She kissed me. Then one thing led to another and we . . ."

"Had sex."

Her wide eyes narrowed above a conniving smile. "Yeah."

"Was it a one-time thing, or are you planning to . . . pursue this?"

She crossed her arms with a smirk. "Love, you're one to talk of 'one-time things.'" That hurt worse than it should have.

I pressed my palm against my forehead. "So, I'm supposed to pretend I don't know?" I asked.

"That'd be lovely, babes."

"Got it."

We left the room to get back to work. The news almost made me forget what I saw right before. I looked down the hall, trying to find Ori again, but to no avail.

I couldn't decide if it was an apparition before the alarms began their unending symphony yet again.

. . .

On the way home, I checked my phone for messages from Ori, but had nothing. Surely, I didn't imagine it. Of all places I would expect to see him again — want to see him again — working in my hospital wasn't on my list. Either way, it was a good distraction.

The rain tapped a calming rhythm against my umbrella. Its smell blended with the floral scent of the trees that lined the streets of the long way home. It was a nice departure from the hustle, bustle, and antagonizing neon lights.

At least I thought.

Figures appeared in the view beneath my umbrella. I adjusted my path to give them space, but they followed and stopped, blocking my way. Their dress shoes already told me who they were.

I looked up. The three men in suits stood in my way, slimy, conniving smiles on each of their faces. I didn't recognize them, but they were clearly Yakuza.

"Eat dinner with us, girl," one said with heavy Japanese pronunciation. I wasn't a fan of being called "girl."

"I am going home," I returned. "Sumimasen." I tried to step through them, but they blocked my path again.

My instinct was to push them out of the way and run, but I knew I wouldn't make it far.

"What do you want?" I cut to the chase.

"Come with us."

Before I could protest, they grabbed me by the arms and pulled me with them. My umbrella tumbled out of my hand and onto the ground.

___

A/N: Buckle up!

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