Knock, knock.
Misuzu groaned, dragging herself to the door.
"Ugh, Mom's late again," she muttered, already picturing the lecture she was about to give. But beneath the irritation, there was a sliver of relief. Finally.
She yanked the door open.
And her brain blue-screened.
What the actual hell?
A guy stood there. School uniform. Familiar face. Probably someone from her school.
And on his back?
Her mom.
Head tilted to the side. Mouth slightly open. Drool shamelessly dripping down her chin.
But the worst part?
That dazed, stupidly happy smile.
Like a romcom heroine who had just been princess-carried by her dream guy.
Misuzu's eye twitched. Nope. Nope, nope, nope.
She gripped the doorframe, inhaled deeply, and—
"Who the hell are you?" she asked, voice flat, calm, and absolutely murderous.
And why does my mom look like she just had the best night of her life?
(Not that she said the last part out loud. But it was very much implied.)
The guy? Not even fazed.
He just sighed, like this exact scenario was on his bingo card.
"Found her on the street," he said, adjusting her weight on his back. "Checked her ID. Brought her home."
Straightforward. No hesitation. No unnecessary details.
Way too suspicious.
Misuzu narrowed her eyes. "You just… found her?"
"Yeah," the guy deadpanned. "Like a stray cat. Except this one was drunk off her ass."
Misuzu twitched.
She glanced at her mom again. The blissful, post-party expression. The way she was clinging to him like a lifeline.
Nope. Still not buying it.
"And you just carried her all the way here?" she pressed.
The guy shrugged. "Would you rather I left her there?"
Damn it.
Misuzu hated how reasonable that sounded.
She stared at him. Then at her mom. Then back at him.
Her brain processed at high speed.
Option A: Let him leave. Which meant dealing with this mess alone.
Option B: Let him in. But also risk potential serial-killer energy.
Neither sounded great.
The guy must have read her hesitation because he sighed and jerked his chin toward the umbrella stand.
"Take the umbrella," he said. "Y'know, in case you think I'm secretly a vampire or something."
Misuzu clicked her tongue, reluctantly stepping aside. "Tch. Fine. Get in."
And just like that, the weirdest night of her life officially began.
The boy didn't hesitate, stepping past her like he owned the place.
Misuzu kept a close eye on him as he carried her mother inside. Her mom, still blissfully unaware, nuzzled against his shoulder.
Misuzu twitched. What the hell, Mom?!
This was not okay.
"Alright, drop her on the couch," she ordered.
The boy ignored her.
Instead, he kept walking, straight for the bedroom.
"Oi!" Misuzu snapped. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"
"Bed," he said simply. "She'll sleep better there."
Misuzu scowled. Why does that sound so damn suspicious?!
Still, she followed. Not with just an umbrella, but also a flowerpot in hand. Because precautions.
Everything was going fine.
No weird cult chants. No sudden transformation into a vampire. No secret cameras popping out for a prank show.
And then…
Disaster struck.
Not because of the boy.
But because of her mother.
Just as he was lowering her onto the bed…
Her body tensed.
A shiver ran through her.
Her lips trembled.
Her eyes flickered open for half a second, just long enough to give a warning neither of them was fast enough to catch.
"BLUUURGGGHHH!"
Direct hit.
A full-powered, drunken vomit attack.
Right. On. Him.
The boy froze. Misuzu froze. Even her mom, now blissfully knocked out again, froze.
For a moment, silence.
Just the slow, wet drip of stomach betrayal sliding down his uniform.
Then…
"You have GOT to be kidding me."
Misuzu sucked in a breath, biting her lip.
Do. Not. Laugh.
Do. NOT. Laugh.
The boy slowly turned his head toward her, expression dead inside.
Misuzu met his gaze.
Silence.
Just the drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Of her mother's fine dining choices sliding down his collar.
But it's not over.
Her mom, meanwhile, let out a happy little sigh in her sleep.
And drooled. Again.
Right onto his other shoulder.
The boy twitched.
"Mission failed successfully."
"Towels. Now."
Misuzu snapped out of it, nodding as she moved to grab a towel from the chair at the side of the room.
As she passed it to him, she asked, "By the way… what's your name?"
She found him familiar.
He exhaled, still standing stiffly, covered in vomit and drool.
"Komuro Takashi."
Misuzu blinked.
A moment of recognition clicked into place.
********
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