Chapter 30
Committee work
A month had passed, preparations for the culture festival turning frantic as the inevitable deadline approached. Kazuki watched the board in the staff room. The maze of intermingling projects was taking shape nicely.
He shouldn’t have feared; when she wanted, Elyna packed quite a punch in diplomacy. Was it because she blended into different cultures with the agility of a cat? Or was her inner charm too strong to resist?
Unsurprisingly, his teaching assistant worked herself to the bone, dark circles settling under her eyes as she juggled an increasing number of meetings, and several logistics crisis.
When Kazuki voiced his concerns, he only found the same circles under the Vice Principal’s eyes. A snort escaped him; Makoto looked like he’d been living on coffee and sheer stubbornness.
“The Nationals are not done yet and you’re already working yourself into the ground,” Kazuki warned. “Sarah-san is going to kill you.”
“Probably.” Makoto dragged his hand down his face like a child fighting sleep. “But she managed to convince several foreign companies to participate in the culture festival. If we play this right, we might just get more visibility.”
More investments to run the school, and perhaps renovate the dōjō.
For years, Makoto worked his ass off to get subventions.
This time, Elyna’s spark had set the school ablaze.
An incredible show of influence, especially at such a young age.
But Kazuki was worried; his health instructor persona was rearing its head.
“Go home,” Kazuki ordered sternly. “While someone’s waiting for you…”
If Sarah was a temporary fixture, time was of the essence. Makoto would probably regret spending those precious hours in school.
The warning seemed to strike a nerve; the Vice Principal straightened like a soldier called to attention. “I’m going,” he sighed. “But get Trewith out of my office, she was still there when I left, researching Kami-sama knows what in my archives.”
Kazuki’s eyebrows rose. “In your office?”
It was widely known that the Vice Principal preferred working in the staff room to keep an eye on things, and seldom allowed anyone to use his office. That show of trust was almost unsettling.
“Hai,” Makoto retorted, looking at him strangely. He gathered his papers with a swift swipe, folding them in his bag with a yawn. “Oh, by the way, Sarah insisted I wish you a happy birthday. Since the schedule is a bit hectic, perhaps we could go out later? It’s not every day you turn thirty.”
Right. Today is the 16th of October… I almost forgot.
The Makoto-tornado left before Kazuki could formulate an appropriate response. He followed him out of the staff room, mulling over the date.
Turning thirty, and my present is to fish out a workaholic from a pile of archives.
Hopefully, Shintarō was waiting for him with a good bottle of sake. With a sigh, Kazuki rounded the corridor; the lights were dim, the night settling in already. The Vice Principal's office door was ajar; inside reigned an unsettling stillness.
He stepped in slowly. His eyes immediately found Elyna at the round table, slumped beside a book so old it looked like a relic. Sound asleep.
A fond smile curled his lips. No wonder she and Makoto got along so well; they were both capable of working themselves unconscious.
Her golden mane brushed her cheekbones, cascading across the table like silky rivers. His hand longed to caress those unruly waves, if only to assess if they felt as soft as they looked.
What would happen if he lost the battle against duty? To allow his fingers to card through her tresses, to embrace her, just for a breath? Silence turned oppressive as his attention drifted. Kazuki bent over, close, so close that he could smell her jasmine shampoo. His hand lifted, and stilled.
What are you doing?
He suddenly felt his knees buckle. Kazuki crouched, cursing his weakness as he planted his palm into the ground. Heart hammering like taiko drums, he chastised himself for hovering over a sleeping woman like some kind of creep. Yet, beside him, Elyna slumbered peacefully. Safe.
As if she knew he posed no danger. Kazuki took a deep breath, then another. Shame and longing warred in his chest until reason prevailed.
Let’s do this. Send her home, get back to Shintarō and drink myself into oblivion.
Kazuki gently shook her shoulder.
A groan. Elyna’s lashes parted to reveal hazy blue eyes. His breath caught, utterly and completely enthralled; her brows drew together as she tried to sit up, hand entangled in her own hair. With her flushed cheeks and tousled mane, she looked angelic. As if she’d just rolled out of bed.
The yearning intensified, so powerful it nearly broke the dam of his restraint. To think he was often praised for being reasonable!
Get a grip!
“Hey,” he gently scolded, voice thick. “Being on the committee doesn’t mean all the work is dumped on your lap. Gather your legendary authority and whip a few people.”
She gave him a confused look that contrasted with her usual determined self. “My legendary authority?” she squeaked, rubbing her face like a kitten.
Sweet Amaterasu, she didn’t even realise how tempting she was! Kazuki rose, putting necessary distance between them before he did something catastrophically stupid. Faced with her innocent sensuality, his good sense hung in tatters.
“Go home, Elyna-san,” he sternly commanded. “Or I’ll send you straight into Sōhma-san’s clutches.”
I got better things to do tonight than babysit an assistant.
The threat of the school nurse worked like a shot of caffeine. Elyna straightened so fast that the chair groaned. “That’s playing dirty, sensei.”
“That’s making sure my assistant doesn’t work herself sick. The wrist was enough!” He moved towards the door, each step a small victory against wanton fantasies. “Out. Now.”
He didn’t wait to see if she listened; he left before things could go awry, reminding himself of all the lines he couldn’t afford to cross.
The air was cold, the contrast with his warm futon pushing him to burrow deeper under the covers. The light filtering through his bedroom window was too bright; had he forgotten the alarm? Kazuki tried to shift, but his body wouldn’t respond, pinned down by a slumped weight.
There, curled against his side, slept a young woman he knew well. Her head was pillowed on his chest, long tresses spilling across his shoulder; the morning light turned them into spun gold. Her breathing was even and slow, trustful.
His heart should have leapt, but he felt only peace.
Elyna.
His hand gently slid through her hair, finding it as silky as he’d imagined. The movement coaxed a contented sigh out of her, the sound reverberating in his chest.
“Mmmm,” she murmured, voice rough from sleep. “Good morning.” The greeting, in English, was delivered with the casual intimacy of many past shared awakenings. When she lifted her head, he was instantly captured by the depth of her eyes.
She looked utterly content, lips slightly swollen. His pulse picked up when he noticed the mark on her neck. My own doing.
Word failed him, so he let his thumb trace her cheekbone. Her skin was so soft. How is it that I am allowed this? I must be dreaming. Why else would she be here, and real and warm and pliant under his touch? “Good morning.”
A slow smile bloomed on her face, shattering him to pieces. Then she shifted, revealing one of his old t-shirts. Nothing else. His hand snaked upon her bare thigh, tentative, caressing her hip; the hem rode up, and up, following his movement as his fingers settled at the curve of her waist.
Elyna hummed her approval, seeking his touch.
She breathed a strange rendition of his name. “Tsuki.” No sensei, no suffix. A nickname that Japanese people used a metaphor for ‘I love you.’
Heart pounding, he lost it; in a swift move, he rolled them around, pinning her to the futon. Her eyebrows lifted playfully, but she did not protest. Instead, the minx raised her legs to bracket his hips in a cocoon of softness and acceptance.
“Kami-sama, Lyna,” he groaned.
The nickname came easy, as if carved in his mind a long time ago. Her hand tugged at his nape, pulling him down until his whole frame was nestled in her warmth. His lips captured hers with such longing that his heart threatened to burst.
And she welcomed him, tasting like sweetness and sleep. Her hand slid in his hair; the kiss deepened, hungry, breaking the carefully constructed walls and mowing down his restraint.
Her hips rolled against his; fire shot up his spine. Kazuki moaned. He knew those sensations; he was no virgin. But the furnace that burnt in his belly unravelled him entirely.
“Elyna,” he breathed, incredulous.
“Yes, my Tsuki— ”
Kazuki woke with a gasp, heart hammering in his chest. His skin was damp, the room only just brightening with pre-dawn light. The normal time. No golden rays, no soft warmth pressed against him. Just empty silence and the phantom of her presence.
Horrified, he muffled a string of curses with his hand. It had felt so real, so soft and wonderful and he ached like a mad man, wanting her with every fibre of his very soul. Panic seized his guts.
She’s your assistant, you absolute bastard. She’s counting on you and you… you’re lusting after her!
Kazuki threw off the covers so violently they clattered against his low desk, upturning a bottle of water in the process. Kuso. He ran both hands through his hair in frustration, disgusted with himself.
5 AM. It should have been too early for a run, but he was going anyway. He needed to shake off the lingering warmth and that dull ache that claimed his chest, that hollow that had nothing to do with desire, and everything to do with her presence. Her wit, her smiles, just her.
He pulled on running clothes in haste and tip toed to the genkan to lace his shoes.
The cold air hit him like a slap, but didn’t bring relief.
As the sun rose to greet Tōkyō, Kazuki watched his breath fog, rattled to the bone.
His legs started pumping, and he let them take him away from home.
Faster, further, he attempted to forget.
Forget that he’d just turned thirty, and was still a hopeless bachelor. A bachelor with a career that didn’t invite any swoons in the female population, and invited frowns on parent’s faces. A man whose desire for companionship had been mercilessly crushed.
One mess of a thirty-year-old.
By the time the sun had fully risen, painting the city in flames, Kazuki had put six miles between himself and his flat. His legs burnt, his lungs ached, but he still couldn’t outrun his ghosts.
Aksel: Miss you
Elyna: You too. Don’t board in the storms
Aksel: No promises