#is the one that lands me in the hospital | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dirtbra1n · 10 days ago

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Seigi Sunday the third—sunday in our Hearts ❤️

read the first and second here and here!

(one day late is nothing to me by now and time is what you make it. let’s all pretend together Take my hand,)

hi! merry christmas! decided on a whim I’d speedrun this one and by god am I going to try really really hard. (I fell asleep.) just how these things go. (noooo kidding) having read over the first two again I’m making the executive decision this holiday to use the more legible black-on-white reading mode. if it wasn’t apparent by my punctuality or lack thereof These are shaped in full by whim. and whimsy!

speaking of whimsy, how is seigi doing this lovely christmas evening and also perfectly average saturday morning :) ?

he’s doing just OK! 👍

more seigi under the cut

"Good morning. Is something the matter? You don't look well." "I went out drinking with my exam prep class yesterday..." "Did you shower when you got back?" "…I just fell asleep immediately." "I see." Richard stood up, took his wallet from his pocket, and handed me a 1,000 yen note. "There's a public shower, laundromat, and convenience store in front of Shimbashi Station. You have fifty minutes to take a shower, launder your clothing, and chew some mint gum."

It gave rank a whole new meaning. I mingled with the businessmen and homeless people as I shoved my head under the shower. I pulled my clothes out of the dryer and pulled them on, bought some gum at the convenience store, chewed it and spit it out into some paper before returning to the shop where I was surprised to find a customer.

seigi…… I . kinda can’t look at you right now CHANGE CLOTHES AT LEAST!!!!!!! AT LEAST CHANGE YOUR CLOTHES!!!!! YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE GOTTEN RUN OVER BY A CAR!!!!!!!!! SMELLY!!!!!!!!!

It was a man. "Wow, late to work, are we? If this were my store, you'd be chewed out." I threw a "hey" at the man who snarkily greeted me. He was wearing a wrinkled black suit with a wine-red collared shirt underneath. Richard, who was sitting across from him, checked his watch. It'd only been 48 minutes. I was safe, right? I was still safe, I made the baseball hand signal at him, and Richard asked me to make some tea. His tone sounded civil. I guess that meant I did make it. "Wow, no response? Where's the 'with pleasure!'?" "I know I've mentioned this before, but this is a jewelry shop." "Sorry, old habits." Speak of the devil. A real host actually had showed up at the shop. I brought out some royal milk tea with extra ice, and the customer said "thanks" with a wink. His hair faded from blond to brown, his lightly tanned skin looked a bit neglected, and he had a loud voice. He was probably in his late twenties. He introduced himself as Satoshi Takatsuki. It seemed a little plain for a working name, so maybe it was his real one. "So, I'm lookin' for a stone that'll make for a nice conversation piece with my clients. Girls love pretty things, right? Ideally something convenient to carry around. You know, I heard about this shop. You're pretty cheap, right?" "I have done favors for various customers of mine, yes." "Man, you sure talk like a real Japanese dude! Does one of your parents have some Japanese blood in 'em?" "Neither does, actually." "I bet you've got a hundred percent success rate with the ladies, don'tcha? Are you sure you're not in the wrong line of work?" "Sir, what would you like with your tea? We have both sweet and salty options." "I've got a sweet tooth. You charge extra for this?" "No, is basic hospitality..." "That's Ginza for ya! No one's gonna nickel-and-dime you here."

Wait. Then when was I going to tell her that I wanted to go out with her? I would chat with Tanimoto over text from time to time. Mostly about rocks. Well, pretty much only about rocks. She'd send me photos of specimens she was fond of or particularly unusual rock formations. Like the cliffs in Inubousaki with big round holes carved into them or large grey rocks lined up on the shore of Ireland. I'd never know about all these places all over the world if I hadn't met her.

you can put this in the comparison column for later. you’ll see

When Tanimoto got completely absorbed in the world of stones, she was less cute and more... passionate and dashing. And always replied to me really fast. But I would feel a little depressed when our conversations ended. At the end of our longer exchanges, she'd always add, "Let me see your sports car sometime." It was gradually turning into her regular sign-off. Even if it was just a mistake, the enthusiasm on display in my "got it!" made it difficult to correct, and I would always respond "eventually" like an idiot.

dingus.

I was profoundly jealous of our current customer, who wasn't at the mercy of love but could enjoy romance as a commercial endeavor. Mr. Takatsuki smiled at me. "What's wrong, kid? Love troubles?" "Wha—are you psychic or something?" "Men only look at hosts with one of two things in their eyes: disgust or jealousy. And men who are in love tend to fall into the latter camp. It only makes sense." "Well, this is embarrassing. You hosts really are incredible." "That kind of honesty is a talent, too. I think you'd make an excellent host."

INCREDIBLY DANGEROUS THING TO ENCOURAGE HIM ON. really really right though. super endearing quality of his. my stupid best friend in the entire world seigi who is so so honest. and stupid

"Apologies for the wait." Richard set a black velvet box on the table. It was about the size of a large chocolate box, and I'd taken to calling it the box of wonders. It was just like a regular jewelry box, with the top connected to the base by a hinge. It looked kind of like an alligator when the lid was open. Mr. Takatsuki's eyes went wide when the lid slowly opened. Pretty much everyone who came into the shop had the same reaction. Gems were laid out in four rows on black cushions. They weren't part of any jewelry—just plain stones. Red, green, purple, pink, every color you could imagine. These multicolored gems were like a preemptive strike. Mr. Takatsuki smiled for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. "I'm kinda speechless! There must be a ton of people who'd kill for an opportunity to see stones like this just once in their lives. I'm absolutely tellin' my guys about this." "That would be most appreciated."

"You really have a head for business," Mr. Takatsuki said with a smile, leaning over the box. "Every gem conceals a rich story of its own, so regardless of which you choose, you won't find yourself wanting for conversation." "A rich story, huh? Honestly, to me they're all just red stones, yellow stones, or purple stones. "My customers who find all their options equally attractive tend to have a rather broad and clear aesthetic sense. Please, try picking them up and taking a closer look." “...I really think you're in the wrong line of work." Richard's cool and collected expression didn't falter at all. Which just made me get annoyed on his behalf. Where did this guy get off, coming into someone's place of business and telling them "you're in the wrong line of work"? Mr. Takatsuki shrugged and reached for a random stone, like the option had just occurred to him. "What's this red one? It's not a ruby, is it?" "That would be a garnet. You have excellent taste, Mr. Takatsuki." "Nah, I just saw rubies at another shop. Ruby red is a lot brighter. What's this green one?" "This may come as a surprise, but that is also garnet." "They're the same thing?" Mr. Takatsuki asked, pointing at the two stones. Richard nodded. "Red garnets were extremely popular in 19th century Europe, which is why their Japanese name, zakuroishi or pomegranate stone, references the color red. However, garnets are not exclusively red in color. This green stone, demantoid garnet, is from Russia. The blue garnet you may be familiar with from a story featuring a certain famous detective, however, is pure fiction. Garnets come in nearly every color with the exception of blue." “...Um, I didn't catch the name." "Of the green stone? Demantoid garnet." "No, yours, Mr. Shopkeep." There was a brief pause, but Richard's courteous smile remained untarnished. "My apologies. My name is Richard Ranasinghe de Vulpian. Garnet happens to be the birthstone for January—do you have any interest in garnet, Mr. Takatsuki?" "Let me be real with you, Richard. Have you ever considered a change of career?" "Excuse me, sir, would you care for a dessert? We have soft adzuki jelly if you're interested." "Oh, come on kid, read the room. I'm trying to scout your boss here." And that's why I'm trying to help him out, I frowned very pointedly so only Richard would see. My boss, whose calm smile never faltered, closed his eyes and bowed. "Mr. Takatsuki, you have your calling just as I have mine." "The night life is so brilliant though. If you like gemstones, I'm sure you'll take a shine to it. Roppongi's rough these days. All an average-looking foreign host has to do is speak a little Japanese, and he's raking in millions a night." "The brilliance of a human life lasts but a hundred years, but this garnet right here was born from the Earth a hundred million years ago. Gems have long lifetimes, yet they generously accompany us for the duration of ours." "Now that's what I'm talking about! That's the kind of host I want in my establishment!" Mr. Takatsuki looked at me again. I knew what he was trying to say, but at the rate things were going, all of Richard's efforts to make a sale were going to be in vain. I flashed him a slightly displeased face, and Mr. Takatsuki smiled a glorious smile at Richard. It made him look young, but this was his manager side, not his host side, I supposed.

okay. Yeah sure. alright. you’re a sick sick man. but Whateve No actually Can we talk about this

“...That would be an amethyst. Crystalline quartz." "Amethyst! Even I know what that one is! It sure is pretty." "Please feel free to pick it up and take a closer look." Mr. Takatsuki said, "Don't mind if I do," and picked up the amethyst with his fingertips. It was about as big as my pinky nail—probably double the size of my pink sapphire. Richard mentioned that you could view the stone from more angles if you set it between two fingers on top of your hand. He demonstrated, setting the stone in between his pointer and middle fingers before placing it on Mr. Takatsuki's hand in the same fashion. Mr. Takatsuki finally smiled. "You sure have beautiful fingers. Is there some kind of story behind amethysts?" "Excellent question. Humans' relationship with amethysts goes back a very long time. If we reach back beyond the realm of written history, we find amethysts in grave goods at prehistoric sites, and we have records of the nobility in ancient Egypt using them as stamps on documents. It's not nearly as hard a stone as diamond, ruby, or sapphire, so they found more uses in day-to-day life. It's the birthstone for February and is said to help cultivate an open heart, love, and intuition." "Where do you learn all that stuff? Is there a school or something?" "I learn every day. In the course of my work, I have many opportunities to acquire new information, and I count among my customers some specialists who are far more knowledgeable than I." "Your world sure is fascinating. Just makes me want to hire you as a host even more. So, is it expensive?" The moment Richard said the price was 5,000 yen, both Mr. Takatsuki and I made a weird face. "Huh? Are you sure that's not off by a zero?" "The price is neither 500 yen, nor 50,000 yen. The prices of all goods and services, not limited to gemstones, are determined by the balance of supply and demand. And as the supply of amethysts is most steady and abundant, it is possible to acquire rather high-quality stones for a relatively low price. This particular stone came from Brazil, the world's foremost producer of amethyst, though they were commonly produced in Japan just a few decades ago—stones from Yamanashi are quite famous." Mr. Takatsuki looked vaguely frustrated, saying that prefecture is known for its grapes. Richard smiled. "Is it not a remarkable twist of fate that beautiful gem-like fruits are grown on the same land beautiful gemstones were mined from?" "Don't you play favorites! Yamanashi's not the only place that makes good grapes. I mean, they're good, but... this is getting off topic. Please tell me more about the stone." Richard bowed and began speaking eloquently again, almost like a talking doll. The scientific name for the stone was quartz. I supposed it was kind of like how ruby and sapphire are both corundum. There were all sorts of varieties of the mineral—citrine, smoky quartz, rose quartz, and so on—but they were all chemically almost identical and were all about the same hardness. A lot of mineral enthusiasts collected it. Excessive exposure to sunlight could cause the color to fade, so care had to be taken when storing them. In Europe in the Middle Ages, amethysts were prized by high-ranking members of the Christian clergy and treasured as spiritual artifacts. In the realm of fortune-telling, they were used as pendulums for dousing. And so on and so forth. Richard talked about stones seemingly forever. If you told him to talk, he could probably go on for an entire day. If you closed your eyes and listened, you'd never know it wasn't a Japanese person talking. His voice was neither too high, nor too low, and it had a mysterious warmth to it—like someone holding you tight. If I were Mr. Takatsuki, I'd ask him to stop, or apologize and leave. Me though, I could never do it. It'd be like being in the same cage as a ferocious beast and trying to force it to do tricks. Terrifying.

you’re sick. You are so sick

While I was refreshing their tea, I stole a glance at Mr. Takatsuki's expression, thinking it was getting about time for him to get going. But he was utterly bewitched by Richard—he wouldn't even look at me. His enthusiasm was tremendous. "Your tank empty yet? Or can you keep going?" "Hm, Mr. Takatsuki, you wouldn't happen to know the origin of the name 'amethyst,' would you?" "I wish I could respond to that with an, ‘of course I do,’ but I'm not so lucky this time. What language is it? English?" "Greek, actually. 'Amethystos,' meaning 'to not become intoxicated by alcohol.'" It felt like the atmosphere in the shop suddenly changed in that instant. Mr. Takatsuki's expression grew a bit more serious. Richard seemed to notice. "Oh, so it's a gemstone that prevents drunkenness? Like a healing crystal?" "It's an old legend. This stone has a beautiful purple color, so perhaps that's why it became associated with wine. It is said that Bacchus, the god of wine, offers his divine protection to owners of this stone." "'To not become intoxicated,' 'to not become intoxicated,’ huh? ...Yeah, I like it." He sounded unnatural and listless as he added excuse upon excuse. I was sure he was going to buy it. He went down the line, looking at the other stones, but ultimately settled on the amethyst, just like I expected. "Do you just sell it like that? Or can I have it set?" "You mean this amethyst? I can have it set in a piece of your choosing—a ring, a tiepin, bracelet, or whatever else you might like. Of course, the cost and timeframe will vary, depending on exactly what you choose. I can have a designer sketch something up for you as well." "Yeah, I don't need anything that fancy. You've gotta have like a catalog I can pick from or something. That's good enough for me. Probably shouldn't go for a tiepin, it'd be hard to tell if I dropped it or something. What would be fastest? A necklace would be fine, too." "If you aren't set on this particular stone, I do have finished amethyst accessories in stock." "I like your gumption. Lemme see what you've got then." It was only another fifteen minutes after Richard went into the back room to replace the contents of the box of wonders that Mr. Takatsuki left the shop. Richard had three amethyst pendants to choose from, and Mr. Takatsuki selected the largest one. The stone was at least the size of my thumbnail and cut into a square with rounded corners. Its edges were wrapped in gold. It was a pure purple, like a morning glory, and the back was rounded off so as to not scratch the wearer's skin when worn. The chain was the same gold as the wrapping around the stone. It was rather delicate, as it had been designed as a piece for a woman, but when Mr. Takatsuki put it on, you could just about smell the aroma of nightlife wafting off it. The price: 15,000 yen. "It's almost like a toy," Mr. Takatsuki said with a smile. He left the shop in high spirits, oblong jewelry box with amethyst pendant inside in hand. He couldn't resist asking Richard to think his offer over before he left though. "...Think he was drunk?" "I'm quite sure he was sober. That was all an act." "Do you think he'll return it later?" "He won't. He appeared to be satisfied with his purchase."

I knew about the camera at the entrance, but I guessed there were cameras in the shop proper, too. But there were only valuables in the store when Richard was here, so the real concern was less burglars and more customers with ill intent.

I've always had exceedingly average looks, so I've never felt especially flattered by compliments on my appearance or particularly upset by insults to it, either. That said, I didn't think there were all that many men who were routinely scrutinized for their appearance, unless they're on Richard's level. The place my mother worked at before her current job at the hospital had a serious sexual harassment problem, and she'd often complain over a beer that she wasn't dressing herself for their sake. Richard had the same feeling about him now. Beauty wasn't something people engaged with to please strangers. People were welcome to appreciate what they would, but they should know it didn't give them the right to treat people however they wanted. "Um, so… I swear I don't mean anything weird by this, like, seriously, I don't mean it like you might think, but—" "Don't you think that excessively long and circuitous preambles are rather rude, too?" "I just wondered if you feel like people telling you you're handsome and beautiful is kinda... insulting. Sorry," I added, and Richard made a strange face. After a moment, he smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. There was something eerily childlike about his expression. "Do you think telling someone with blond hair that they have blond hair is some kind of insult?"

let’s circle back to the narcissism thing from last chapter actually

"You know, I really don't love it when you act so full of yourself! Agh, I put my foot in my mouth said ‘love’ again!" "Just stop talking for a moment. I know what you meant. Do not worry about it," Richard repeated emphatically. He returned the products to the safe and took a sip of the fresh milk tea I'd made when he came back. I never thought of myself as someone who would perpetrate sexual harassment, but I might've been a lot more insensitive than I realized. At this rate, I just knew I'm going to say something stupid to Tanimoto and ruin everything. I've gotta be better. Richard sat alone in the lounge, eating the leftover adzuki jelly. It tasted just like red bean paste, but it was clear and there were goldfish—both common and fancy ones—swimming in the sweet, delicate substance. A little while ago, I asked him if he thought Japanese confections paired well with milk tea, and he glared at me, saying I was belittling royal milk tea. It was starting to seem more like a religious belief than mere opinion. Richard called my name, as though he noticed I'd been staring at him. He was still looking at the dessert as he spoke. "What? If you tell me not to look at you, I won't."

"The only relationship between you and I is that of employer and employee. Praising my appearance won't make me any more inclined to raise your wages, and I'm sure you're aware of that. Praise with ulterior motives is just sycophantic bootlicking. That said, earnest, spontaneous words of praise are an exclamation of sorts, nothing more and nothing less. The natural beauty of gemstones—even of those with little financial value—can soothe the hearts of people and grant them strength to keep going. I believe that is the true value of beauty." "I think I get what you're saying. That's kind of how I feel whenever I look at you." "Then perhaps it would be fair to say that your ‘you're beautiful’ comments are essentially the equivalent of ‘I'm in a good mood because the weather is so lovely today.’ They do not bother me." "Thank you. Well, if I do say something like that again by accident, I would really appreciate it if you just brushed it off." I forced a smile, and Richard frowned. What did I do this time? "...While it may not bother me, surely you have invited your fair share of unfortunate misunderstandings by making rash comments without much thought?"

maybe I shouldn’t have said that ALL-TIMER

I began wiping down the table, and Richard returned with a sullen look on his face. He looked a little red, even.

me when I lie This is my favorite bit ever by the way. richard you are so so so sick. and you brought this on yourself :)

Refusing to look me in the eye, my boss sat back down in one of the lounge chairs by the window and clasped his hands. He looked like something was bothering him, and it didn't seem like a sudden stomachache. The whole thing was very unusual. Richard silently stared out the window for a bit before abruptly mumbling, “...I wonder if he really deserved to own that amethyst." "What?" What was he going on about? Didn't he land the sale he was working on that whole time? Richard hung his head, burying it in his clasped hands. "I believe that every stone deserves to end up in the hands of someone who understands its true beauty and will treasure it—such would be a happy ending for both parties. But it makes me wonder... How should I put this... Yes, perhaps I, too, have acted rashly." "You mean you wish you hadn't sold it to him?" "Rather that I wonder if selling it to him was the right decision." There's a difference? Richard was being weird. I'd never seen him question a sale like that before. I know he said he was used to it, but after the way that customer treated him, maybe it put him in a bad mood. No, he didn't really seem irritated. The beautiful jewelry store owner had a weary expression on his face, like he was worried it might rain tomorrow. "Well, he bought it because he wanted it. Gemstones are products, after all. And if he paid the price you set, he must have felt that amethyst was worth at least that much. I don't see the issue." "I don't think that's the whole story. I think the thing he was most taken with wasn't the stone at all." "...But you?" My boss scowled at me, silently ordering me to be quiet. If I was wrong, I wondered what he was getting at? His seemingly endless well of sales talk? Or the relaxing atmosphere of the shop itself? Richard seemed deeply distressed by the whole thing, but nothing was making sense to me. Mr. Takatsuki didn't seem like the kind of person who particularly needed our concern. He liked his job, and sure, he was a little overbearing at times, but he seemed like a fun guy. He definitely came off as a bit impulsive, but there were tons of guys like that at my school, who ran on nothing but vibes and passion.

go figure that seigi’s already coming around on him. the world's sweetest person competition hates to see him coming

"I don't really think you have anything to worry about, but... I think every person who buys gems has their own reasons for doing it and their own reasons for liking them. It probably just put him in a good mood when he put that beautiful stone on, and he'll get over not being able to hire you." "There's only so much a good mood can do. Working in that sort of industry is rough, no matter what country you're in. I don't believe he really meant what he said. The disparity between his words and his actions suggests some kind of cognitive dissonance." "You're reading too much into it. I don't think he was thinking that deeply about anything he said. I thought you said you were used to people making passes at you? Don't worry about it so much." "That's not what I mean. Those who grow intoxicated with beauty far beyond their means are destined to fall to ruin." "Intoxicated with beauty" and "destined to fall to ruin" would probably rank pretty high up there if there were a "phrases I'd love to say some day" ranking. What is he even talking about?

SEIGI YOU ARE SOOOO LAME……. why does this exchange read so shakespearean to me also

I looked at Richard bashfully and explained that I had a crush on this girl and she was my friend at school who loved rocks and was super cute. I explained that, long story short, someone told her that they'd seen me in the Jaguar. The porcelain-faced beauty stared at me as he jabbed his fork into the remaining goldfish jelly, slicing the decorative fish clear in half. Please, I'm begging you, just get it over with. "So, uh, I was wondering... I have my driver's license. I drive my mom's car all the time, and I've never been in an accident or pulled over." "That's an impressive record for someone who seems like he'd be constantly distracted behind the wheel. Fascinating story."

SOOOOO ANNOYING!!!!!!!!!!

"Don't assume the worst about me! I believe in safety first. I'm especially careful to check for children or elderly pedestrians, I yield to vehicles behind me, and I'll even drive below the speed limit just in case something happens. I don't get mad or panic if I hear someone honk at me from behind, either." I'd be in trouble if someone asked me to floor it, but I was confident in my safe driving skills. I was such a safe driver that when I drove my mom to work when she had a cold, she praised me saying, "I think you drove almost too safe." For some reason, she didn't let me drive very much after that, though. Richard smiled sweetly. He was like a jewel sitting in direct sunlight. I got my hopes up for a positive response. "They're about five million used, from what I understand." "What?" "Jaguars. I hope the drive is worth it." Um, that's not what I meant. I was hoping you'd understand that I was asking to borrow yours—is what I nearly said before I gave up. Richard skewered both pieces of the jelly with his fork and ate them in one bite. How brutal. This was bad. He had a terrifying aura about him. He had this look in his eyes like if I opened my mouth now, he'd say he'd kill me. Richard probably hated talking about personal stuff during work. I guess I should have known after how he reacted to me showing up hungover. "My mind is exhausted from speaking so much of my non-native language. Tea." "Yessir, I'll be right back." "But first, where's my change?" "...It was only 40 yen." "Change."

wrote here ENFADOSO!!!!! you are an ANNOYING MAN!!!!!!!! and it's . sooo fucking funny. bitch4bitch I can't take you two ANYWHERE

I guess no matter how casual the workplace, bosses are still bosses and employees are still employees. I mean, this wasn't a host club, and I'd never been chewed out by my boss, but I supposed expecting him to be so lenient that I could get away with not following instructions was out of the question. I had to get my act together.

- things to say when you will not be getting your act together

The following Friday, I was dragged along to go drinking with some college friends. We ended up in the same bar in Roppongi as last week. One of the older guys in my prep class was very eager to invite me. I thought the professor would be coming, but that wasn't the case at all—even the guy who invited me ended up not being able to make it. It ended up being a peculiar party made up of just six second year students. There were no girls in the class to begin with, so there wasn't even that to look forward to. It was a trendy bar, but not the kind of place a bunch of single guys could really relax. The interior design was so overdone, all form over function. The prices were middling, and there wasn't much in the way of food. After two hours of partying, things were starting to drag. "That reminds me, Seigi, you quit your weekend shifts. I hardly see you at all these days, man." "Yeah, I started another part-time job." "What kind of job?" I knew if I answered honestly, saying I worked at a jewelry store mostly serving tea, it would turn into a Q&A session since everyone was bored and didn't have anything else to talk about. What should I say instead, though? That I was handing out flyers? No, that wouldn't be believable. I'd be getting paid more working the night shift than that. "Uh, um… I'm in the hospitality industry."

nice answer that doesn’t invite questions, dummy

"Oh, are we doing twenty questions? Are you a host?" "Seriously?! How much does it pay? What's the place like?" "No hostesses there? Are there any hotties? Like among your customers?" "You're gonna destroy your liver working a job like that. That shit is seriously rough." I guess the Q&A session was unavoidable after all. I was an idiot for trying to lie about it. Convincing them they were wrong was going to be a pain. I visualized the fictitious club. The owner was a foreigner, and I served drinks. We got a lot of customers from overseas and the prices were reasonable. Honestly, it wasn't that far off the mark. I mostly told them the truth—other than the fact that it was a jewelry shop—and my drunk classmates listened intently. I got a little carried away and started speaking triumphantly about how attractive my boss was—the blond-haired blue-eyed polyglot who was possessed of such overwhelming beauty that it was hard to believe that such a living creature even existed. The atmosphere changed when I got to that topic. They were all staring at me for some reason. "...So you're, like, alone with this boss of yours in the shop?" "Whoa, that's sick. What do you two get up to when there are no customers around?" "What do you mean, what do we get up to? I make drinks, clean, and run errands. Stuff like that." When they asked me how I'd gotten the job, I told them that I'd saved my now boss from some drunks on the street one night. The moment I mentioned that, the dull atmosphere did a total 180. My drunk classmates openly scowled at me and started hurling insults my way. "Dang, dude, you really... Nah, no way." "What? I don't understand." “It’s like she got handed to you on a silver platter. Let me switch places with you!” "Just hurry up and get dumped and have your dreams crushed so you can go cry alone in your room." "Wait, wait, wait, wait!" For some reason they didn't believe me when I clarified that my boss was a man. It was so unfair. I wasn't lying. They kept insisting that because I said he was attractive, I must have feelings for him. It made no sense. Why did I have to be in love with someone just because I thought they're beautiful?

seigi you are truly one of a kind. god bless. also I’m sure a number of you out there can make something of this if you put your mind to it

"I mean it's not like there's just one type of beauty! It's like Mt. Fuji on New Year's Day, or the sun setting over the horizon, that kind of beauty! It's like one of those things accidentally took human form by some twist of fate. Dating isn't even a question for the kind of thing I'm talking about." "What the hell is a hottie like Mt. Fuji? You're not making any sense." "What, is your boss some kind of literal angel?" "Yeah right."

closest they got and they call it off. you guys are hopeless By the way women aren’t objects guys. not cool.

The whole thing was torture, but I guessed I got what I deserved for making up an elaborate story when I wasn't a good liar to begin with. I just stopped caring, cut out early, and went home. My friend, Shimomura, said he'd walk me to the station. I tried to lose him when we left the club, but he stopped me with an "um, so..." and an awkward look on his face. "I know you probably don't know this, but the guy from our cram class who invited us here owns this club." "What?" "He wanted to be his own boss, so he got into the food services industry, but it's still not turning a profit. Seems like he's friends with the third years, so he's been using us as fodder." Now it all made sense. That was why he specifically took us to Roppongi, of all places. There was supposedly a pretty strong business focus in that prep class, so it made sense that the older students might be starting up on their own. He must've been losing money. I told him I didn't know and thanked him, and Shimomura gave a strained smile. "You know, I think I kinda get what you were talking about earlier. I know it's dumb, but I love getting to see Tokyo Tower out the window of the Yamanote Line so much I could just die. The view from around Hamamatsucho Station is the best—it's that angle right across from the JOQR building. You only get to see it for the second because the train's moving, but it's incredible around sunset. Just a taste of that view recharges my batteries even when I'm exhausted. I think that's the kind of beauty you were talking about, right?"

SHIMOMURA ❤️ OUR FRIEND SHIMOMURA ❤️

"Yes. Yes, that's what I was talking about. That's exactly what I was talking about." I felt like my head might come off from nodding so much. Shimomura's face crumpled into a smile that seemed like a 50/50 mixture of happiness and discomfort. "That sorta thing is so hard to talk about." "…I wish you could've said that back at the club. Also, there's nothing dumb about it." "You think so? I took a girl on the train at my favorite time during a first date and told her to look when we got to the spot, but it just confused her. Just a 'Huh? What?' and that was it. I guess not everyone has the same idea of what's beautiful." "Well, I'm one hundred percent positive you'd be bowled over if you met my boss. I guarantee it." "I'm just glad you're happy."

"Not going home yet?" "I'll hang out until the last train. I don't have any reason to go home really. See ya." The night had ended without me clearing up much of anything with the guys, but I thought I got through to Shimomura and that was good enough for me. I knew exactly what he meant when he said that not everyone had the same idea of what was beautiful. There were as many models of beauty as there were people in the world. There was nothing you could be entirely certain that every single person would find "beautiful." At least, that made sense to me. Though I wasn't sure I'd make the leap from that to the idea that you think something's beautiful just because of love. I didn't think love and beauty were the same at all. Sure, there could be things you loved because they're beautiful and things you thought were beautiful because you loved them, but I didn't think they were the same. [...]

this is a gun I'm realizing. I'll just take the bullet wound for now so we can keep it moving

[...] If I was going to take a stance on anything from now on, it's that. My feelings for Tanimoto were wholly unique. I couldn't compare them to my feelings for anyone or anything else. I wondered when I'd be able to muster the courage to tell her I was in love with her and wanted to go out with her? Maybe she'd tell me she loved me, too, with that adorable smile on her face. Well, I shouldn't get ahead of myself. I had to deal with the sports car thing first. What was I supposed to do? I wished I could find a clever way to tell her I didn't actually own the car without disappointing her. I wanted to find a way to make a grand comeback and turn my mistake into an opportunity. The voice in the back of my mind betrayed me though, vividly reminding me that it wouldn't work and that I should just give up already. I guessed people kind of got drunk on love and flip-flopped between visions of heaven and hell. My thoughts kept racing to either extreme. What if it made her hate me and she wouldn’t text me anymore, let alone talk to me? No, I just needed a good opportunity to take her on a rock-themed date or something. But what kind of date would that even be? Going out somewhere with hammers to mine rocks?

My more immediate concern was that I still couldn't move my leg, buried in trash bags. They seemed suspiciously heavy. I strained my eyes in the dark to see what it was. In the pile of trash beneath my feet, atop the transparent bags of trash, was... ...a person. "Wah!" They'd fallen over, splayed out flat on their face. And they weren't moving. Surely, they were just asleep, right? Just in case, I timidly touched the person's throat with my hand and felt a pulse. But they were very warm. "Are you okay? I can call an ambulance," I said loudly, but their response was slow. The person just groaned. They were wearing a grey button-down shirt and a vest made of a shiny black material. And they stank of booze. "Do you remember your name? How old are you?" “...Satoshiii Takatsuki. I'm twenty-seveeeen." Satoshi Takatsuki? Wait. That Satoshi Takatsuki? His body slid off the pile of trash bags and did a half tumble on his way down, landing on his butt as he hit the ground. He was positioned like an awkwardly sat up teddy bear, his face was red, and he was barely conscious. I lifted up his chin a bit to get a better look at his face. He was burning up. It was dark, so I could barely make out his features, but I knew this wasn't good. I used the telephone pole to confirm the street we were on, called an ambulance, and ran to the red-light district. I feel like this has been a recurring theme in my life lately. I asked the women for help with someone who'd passed out. They reacted quickly, like this was a common occurrence for them. Three people from separate shops came to help, but none of them knew who he was or where he worked. I told them his name was Takatsuki, but it didn't help. Before long, one of them headed back to their shop and returned with a pitcher full of water. Sirens and flashing lights approached while he was still vaguely conscious. Mr. Takatsuki groaned, and his head flopped over. I noticed something glittering around his neck. It was a gemstone. It was an amethyst pendant set in gold and dangling off a delicate golden chain. Two helmet-wearing EMTs came out of the ambulance, asking if anyone knew the man. It was becoming a bit of a scene, and people in suits and dresses started emerging from the other shops. I timidly responded. "…His name is Satoshi Takatsuki, and he says he's 27 years old." One of the EMTs kept calling his name. I looked around, but no one else responded. Even when another call went out for anyone that might know him, people just exchanged confused glances amongst themselves. I had an awful feeling about letting them take him off to the hospital alone. "I'll go with you." "What's your relation to the man?" “...He's one of our clients." "Are you sure you want to do this?" I nodded. I wasn't lying, either. I'd gotten a good look at his face when they laid him out on the stretcher. It really was him. His arms and legs flapped about, and he began shouting the name "Nozomi" over and over. I sent off a text just before I got into the ambulance. It was nearly midnight, but I figured he'd still be up. My boss, that was.

seeeeiiiiiigiiiiiiiiiiii…………….. you're too good....... and awfully confident about richard here. What would you do if he actually kept regular hours

The sliding door opened up, revealing a four-bed room. The morning light was blinding as it poured in through the windows. White frame beds sat atop the featureless cream floor. Only one of the four beds was occupied, by a tan man in hospital pajamas. "Hey." I gave a cheerful greeting, and Satoshi opened his eyes before crumpling back into bed, bitter expression on his face. "Oh, it's you... Um, what was your name again?" "Seigi Nakata. You really gave me a scare last night. Are you okay now?" "Well, as you can see, I'm not dead. When I woke up, they told me a young man who described me as a 'customer' came with me and waited until I was out of the woods. I couldn't figure out what shop it coulda been for the life of me... Um... What the hell were you doin' out there anyway? Also, it's Saturday, isn't it? Shouldn't you be working in Ginza right now?" "My boss let me come in late today. Trust me, I'm more shocked about that than anyone." "...You know, I never wanted to be the kind of old man who makes kids take care of him."

WHO SAID YOU’RE OLD!!!!!!!! sweet thing to say though, Averagely Aged Man

I sat down next to his bed, and Satoshi gave a defeated shrug. "You probably figured it out already, but I'm not actually a host." Satoshi began to tell his story in bits and pieces. His amethyst pendant was strewn on the table next to a cup of water. It looked much duller than it had when it was back at the shop. But maybe it was just the hospital's fluorescent lighting not doing it any favors. Satoshi explained that he was a bartender at a club in Roppongi. It was primarily a hostess club, not a host club. He said he didn't have a particularly high tolerance for alcohol, "just an average one." Two glasses of wine would have him dizzy and forgetting things, almost like he'd been drugged. […]

categorically Not an average tolerance for alcohol but sure

[…] But despite that, it was a point of pride for him that he had a very thorough understanding of the flavor of each alcohol. His family ran a vineyard in the mountains of Nagano. He described it as "painfully out in the boonies," in a hushed, embarrassed voice.

Nozomi was more of the bubbly, cutesy type of hostess. She overflowed with powerful customer service energy. She was the type of person who couldn't say "no" when everyone was having fun. She could never bring herself to pressure clients into drinking themselves into oblivion, so she'd offer to drink for them. As a result, despite being two years younger than Satoshi, her gamma-glutamyl transferase levels were already in dangerous territory. "Gamma… what?" "Glutamyl transferase." "I'm surprised you can remember that." "Of course I can, it's about Nozomi," Satoshi said like it was a given. It sounded as though she was like family to him already. "It's not like you can't make money if you don't drink like that, but she likes having fun with her customers, and she can't say no to their suggestions. I did tell her to just stop drinking, for the record." "Guess that didn't really work though, huh?" "You can't survive in the business if you don't drink at all. Honestly, if I really wanted to stop her, I'd have to get her to quit her job. But we're barely scraping by with both our earnings right now. I know tons of kids your age who want to work part-time in the biz, but it's really not a great line of work. Your liver can't hold out forever." "But when you came to our shop, you were putting on this whole influential host act." “……” He groaned and put his head in his hands. "Are you okay?" “…Nozomi's gotten obsessed with a host lately. That's where all her money's going—to supporting him." I let out a little "huh?" and Satoshi gave me a dubious look. The tone of his grumbling made it sound like it was nothing out of the ordinary, but the subject matter didn't seem to mesh with that. His girlfriend was seeing a host? "But you're still together...?" "Yeah... I'd be mad if she was dating another man, but hosts are kinda like idols. When they're on the clock, they might technically be men, but they're not 'real,' in a way. I dunno if that makes any sense to you, though. It's just like how someone being a hostess's number one client doesn't mean they're dating her." That was true, I supposed, but was he really satisfied with that arrangement? I looked at him trying to find an answer in his face, and he just laughed with a ragged expression. I guess not. "Nozomi lives for the night life. I know that. And I know that's why she spends money on that guy. She says that it's fun for her to see him having fun at the club with her money, that it makes her feel accomplished. It just sounds so depressing... but it's depressing for me, too. I mean, who is this host guy anyway? Don't you already have a bartender for a boyfriend? At most, we're talking the difference between a common goldfish and a fancy breed—they're still both goldfish." "I guess that sounds kinda like the difference between Richard and me."

classic comparison to make, thank you seigi. I can always count on you.

"It's torture." Apparently Nozomi had told him that hosts were just "dazzling." This was the guy who told me that regular men only look at hosts with one of two things in their eyes: disgust or jealousy. And that it tended to be jealousy for men who were in love. When his girlfriend essentially told him that he wasn't "dazzling," he made a decision. He would make a change. He would work to become the owner of a host club rather than a lowly bartender. "So you decided to... Wait, are you being serious? That's so reckless." "That's easy for you to say when you have no idea how much a popular host can make in a night. It's absurd. A club or two can get by on one popular guy. That's how this world works. I'm not kidding when I say attractive men can keep the world turning." “…Still, I think it's a pretty crazy idea." He looked a little embarrassed. Of course, I didn't know anything about the industry, but I was a little dubious that success could come so easily. I feel like host clubs would be all over the place if it really was that simple. The most laid-back person in my prep class has to be either me or Shimomura, and I just knew even he'd be a little suspicious if I asked his opinion on this. If a good man was enough to bring customers in, you'd first need to find that man—which was why Satoshi had been walking around Tokyo looking for "dazzling" men. He started pretending to be a host because it was hard to imagine getting a favorable response from people with, "Hi, I'm a bartender, would you like to become a host?" "But I couldn't find the right guy. The young ones would always get nervous at the mere mention of the industry, and when I got a bite, they'd immediately start asking me to lend them money." "Well... I guess that's to be expected..." He had zeroed in on the area around jewelry shops to hunt for host candidates. I think his theory that men going to buy jewelry either were hosts or would be interested in becoming one was pretty off the mark, but regardless, his dedication to getting something done when he put his mind to it was impressive. At any rate, he would loiter near jewelry shops and approach men going into or coming out of them. Whenever the employees chased him off, he'd move to another store. Just listening to the story was starting to get painful. After failing more times than he could count, Satoshi found himself meandering around the shops on the outskirts of Ginza. That was when he saw something that hit him like a bolt of lightning. Richard. "I was so shocked. A man who looked like he'd stepped right out of a classic Hollywood film was standing there, talking to a shop owner in fluent Japanese. I heard them chatting about how the sponge cake at that cafe over there was delicious and how he wishes the public bath nearby offered laundry services, too, and so on. […]

typical richard points of discussion. typical thing for him to do.

[…] After he left, I asked the shop owner about him and was told he owned a new jewelry shop in the area. I thought it must be fate. I mean, seriously, if anyone's born to be a host, it's him. Honestly, why is he in the jewelry business? He could make a living off that face alone." "I'm not sure he'd appreciate it if you told him that." "I'm being serious though." Put it the wrong way, and "you have a nice face" can sound like it comes with an implicit, "and it's the only aspect of you that has any value." Of course, Richard's looks were definitely extraordinary, and I didn't doubt he'd have at least the same power to attract guests that the pandas at Ueno Zoo[—”]

SEIGI.

[“—]did. But it wasn't like he just stumbled into being an Englishman with perfect Japanese running jewelry shop by no effort of his own. "...I mean, he came all the way from Europe to Japan to open a jewelry shop. I think he has a pretty good reason to be doing that." "Like what?" "I don't know, but maybe he just loves what he does?" He went silent. I wondered why. He had a weird expression, like he'd seen the straight ball I threw him coming but still took it to the face, and hard. I casually made the comment that if Richard wanted an easy life, he could probably go anywhere and have an affair with a member of some royal family, and Satoshi flashed a big, toothy host smile. It reminded me a bit of Shimomura's smile when he saw me off from the bar the other day—thirty percent happiness, seventy percent bitterness, and full of resignation. "What I wanna say is, he could just work for me, then." "All right, let's say you did get him on board. What was your plan after that?" "I decided I'd just go with the flow and figure it out from there. As far as the money goes, I could just get a loan. I think even if I confessed that I was really just a bartender, as long as I got a location rented, I could make it work somehow." "That's a pretty sorry excuse for a plan. You should probably be glad it failed."

SEIGI.

"You're probably right." This time the smile was closer to eighty percent bitterness. It hardly qualified as a smile anymore. Mr. Takatsuki wiped the sweat from his brow and his moist eyes with his pajama sleeve. "The thing is, I really hate the person I am right now. I love Nozomi, but I can't keep her safe and happy, and I'll never outshine a host. I can't even increase our income. I don't have anything. I've been scraping by, trying not to think about it for so long, but I don't think my body can take any more of this lifestyle. I feel burnt out, like the walls are closing in on me. That's when I found your jewelry shop. I kept thinking to myself, what the hell are you doing, man? Are you just gonna be a good-for-nothing drunk for the rest of your life?" “...So that's what the amethyst was about." "I went in planning to buy something, not really caring what it was. It was a lot less expensive than I thought." Almost exactly a week after he visited Richard's shop, he put on that amethyst pendant and went out. Nozomi had a client that made her drink a ton again that day, and she went into her usual routine. Normally, Satoshi would just watch from his place behind the counter, but for some reason, he just couldn't bear it that night. He put himself in the ring this time, downing all of Nozomi's drinks for her, making merry and drinking even more. The customer clapped for joy at seeing the bartender who usually rarely drank at all cutting loose, and Satoshi just kept drinking and drinking and drinking as long as the customer insisted. When he was starting to have a hard time standing, he slipped out the back of the club. Satoshi forced an awkward smile. Apparently, I had a pretty horrified look on my face. "Don't look at me like that. I didn't actually think legend about the amethyst preventing drunkenness was real. It was completely my fault. You and your boss had nothing to do with it." "That's not why I'm concerned. Do you know how many people die every year of acute alcohol poisoning? It's really not funny. And why did you leave the club like that? That was so dangerous." "I mean, I was drunk. Plus, I didn't want Nozomi to see me make a fool of myself." "You passed out in a pile of garbage."

SEIGI!!!!!!

“...I do remember making it two blocks down the street." He muttered to himself that he was surprised he was still alive and put his hands in mine. "Your name was... Seigi, right? I remember the EMTs saying your name. Thank you. You saved my life. And I'm so sorry for causing you so much trouble." "You really don't need to apologize to me. What are you planning to do now?" "I called the club earlier. I got chewed out and fired. Dating the hostesses is against the rules, so Nozomi might be in trouble, too. I'm worried. It doesn't take much to make her cry. She's always bawling at every little thing." "Did you call Nozomi?" "I texted her that I was in the hospital this morning. I figured she'd still be asleep." He smiled without reservation. He smiled again when I gave him a concerned look. It was a defiant smile. The defeat that had colored all his expressions thus far had vanished. "It's so weird. I've done something so stupid, but for some reason I don't regret any of it." I gave him an indignant look, and he put his hands together and apologized profusely. "What am I gonna do now... You know, I think I might try going back to the country. My parents have a vineyard, see. I'm the oldest son, but I kinda shirked my duties. If I help out, surely they'll let even their good-for-nothing son sleep under their roof. Plus, the grapes my old man produces sparkle like gems. They're delicious, to boot." "What about Nozomi?" "You really know how to hit a guy when he's down. I'm a farmer at heart. I'm a totally different breed from a hostess, and our incompatibility couldn't be more obvious now. I'm not good enough for her. And I'm not old fashioned enough to ask her to come with me." "Does that mean you're breaking up with her?" He went quiet and thought for a moment before silently shaking his head. "I can't give up on her. I want her to wait for me. I'm gonna tell her I'll come back to Tokyo someday, so if she can bear it—" "Sounds like you're expecting a lot of patience. How do you know you won't meet someone else while you're in Nagano? Are you sure you don't actually want her to come with you?" "Of course I do! I love her! But it's not that simple." He sounded genuinely mad. I was still a little worried but figured I'd said enough. "Did you hear that? That's how he feels!" I said, half shouting. The door to the room opened without a sound, and a bubbly, cutesy woman tottered in. Her brown hair was a mess, and she had a seasonally inappropriate coat on over her dress. She clutched a pink towel, and her whole face was red from crying. Satoshi shouted, "Nozomi!" "How dumb can you be?! Why are you so stupid?! You can't still be drunk! You big, stupid, useless idiot!" "What are you doing here?" "Oh, shut up, dummy! Obviously, I'm here because I was worried about you!" I left Satoshi in his panic and got up from my seat. Nozomi sat down in my place, wiping her face with the towel while giving Satoshi a couple of gentle smacks across the face. "You almost died! How can you act like barely anything happened... Don't text me when it's something that important, you oaf! Call me! You big, stupid dummy... Maybe you should just go die for real!" "I'm sorry, Nozomi. I'm so sorry." "I can never leave you alone. I guess I have no choice but to go with you," Nozomi said, clutching Satoshi's hands and falling onto the bed in tears. I left the room with a big grin on my face and walked down the hall. I bowed to one of the nurses near the elevator, and she responded in kind.

I know the answer. I know. but Could you two be normal people for a change

Richard checked his watch. It was 10:30 a.m. If we took the Jaguar, we could get back to the store by 11:00 easily. "You could have gone back without me." "And without access to a car, you would be late to work."

no they can’t . what a shock

I'd contacted Richard while I was stuck waiting at the hospital. He was initially in a very bad mood because he'd already gone to bed, but when I explained the situation, he let out a sigh and asked me when visiting hours started. We'd had basically the same idea: I'd go home, get some rest, then meet up in Ginza and take Richard's green Jaguar to the hospital. As we were coming up into the hospital from the underground parking, we ran into a woman who'd arrived by taxi. Her eyes were red, and she had an ostentatious hairstyle that didn't really match her hastily cobbled-together wardrobe. We ended up in the same elevator, got off on the same floor, and were headed in the same direction. When I saw her write the name "Nozomi Kanzaki" in big bubble letters on the guest form, I remembered what Satoshi had been shouting the previous night: Nozomi. I took her aside and asked her if she wouldn't happen to know a Satoshi Takatsuki, and I was right. What little composure she had left dissolved. She broke down crying and told us all the dirty details of Satoshi's rampage the previous night. He barged in on a party, got drunk, and disappeared before anyone realized. He didn't come back by closing time. The owner was furious and fired him on the spot. Nozomi was worried about him, so she went looking for him after closing time, only to find an ambulance had taken a bartender away and was told what hospital they'd taken him to. She cried as she disparaged him. She had no idea why he'd done it. She broke down sobbing, saying that if he was unhappy with something, he should have just talked to her about it, and that she didn't know what to do anymore. And the person who got down on his knees to catch her was none other than my boss. When she saw Richard's face, Nozomi blushed with embarrassment, asking what club he was from again. We had a little meeting on the bench in front of the nurses' station. A sort of strategy meeting. Richard was the ideas man. Nozomi gave the go-ahead, and I was the one assigned to execute it. The plan was simple, really, I'd use my position as the person who saved his life to get him to talk honestly about what was going on. Honestly, I wasn't crazy about the idea in the beginning. I mean, there could be some circumstances behind the whole situation that might be better left unsaid, and Nozomi might get hurt. But Richard looked at me with calm eyes the whole time. We might not have known each other all that long, but—and I know this sounds crazy—I didn't want to do anything that could bring him unhappiness. I almost felt like I couldn't do that to him. I had the feeling that Richard had already gotten a pretty solid read on the situation before he even proposed the plan.

I know this sounds crazy, he says. seigi Did you know? You just said one of the most obvious things in the world to us just now

Nozomi encouraged me, telling me to "give 'im hell!", and I braced myself for what I was about to do. In the end, it wasn't as bad as I'd feared. While we were in the elevator, which was big enough to fit a hospital bed, I asked Richard a question. "What exactly was bothering you so much when Mr. Takatsuki left the shop? Don't tell me you knew this would happen."

"You could tell he wasn't really a host though, right?" "Someone who is confident in their profession doesn't go out of their way to boast about it indiscriminately. He had the feeling of a buzzing mosquito, following you everywhere, yet easily charmed by the flame of a candle." "So that's what was going through your head while you were talking about gemstones. Scary..." "Excuse you." Richard pondered it on his own for a bit after that, saying he had the sense that what Satoshi had been after wasn't actually a gemstone. "So what was he after in the end? Maybe it really was a host." "I don't think that's the case. The thing he wanted from the very bottom of his heart wasn't a piece of jewelry but something that would make him feel like it gave him a power-up." "A power-up? Like a magic accessory in a video game?" "It's not magic, but you often hear stories about people who don't normally wear jewelry acting differently when they do. Wearing jewelry makes them more acutely aware of themselves and how others look at them, and they act accordingly. Beautiful gemstones have a unique power to their beauty." "So they can kinda influence people's behavior. Like a fancy stone might make a woman feel compelled to act more elegantly?" "Or it might make her more arrogant or less cautious about spending money." "These all sound like bad things." "Of course, gemstones can have a positive influence on behavior as well. Like an athlete's good luck charm or, on the more extreme end, the way the crown jewels are said to bestow wisdom on their wearer. At any rate, humans are creatures that grow in order to accomplish their own desires. A gemstone might act as a catalyst for action, but they are not the engine—only the heart can provide the fuel for that." “...That sounds kind of scary." "You're absolutely hopeless." Satoshi had had a carefree smile on his face, but if anything had gone differently, he could have died. As the thought of how close to the brink he'd come last night sent a chill down my spine, Richard continued talking. "While I don't dispute that it's up to the individual to determine what they do and where, as a simple lover of gemstones, I would like to do what I can to prevent situations where beautiful stones bring unhappiness to others. Let us be thankful for your extraordinary luck." My shoulders drooped. There couldn't be many part-time jobs that came with so many extra obligations.

okay seigi you need to listen to me closely: there aren't that many extra obligations. you just take them on yourself. you are doing this to yourself. I love you very much also

When the elevator arrived at the first floor, a pajama-clad elderly person and an accompanying younger person were waiting in front of the door. The way Richard startled the moment the door opened was kind of funny. We left the hospital from there. I wondered if Nozomi had stopped crying yet. "You know, I was wondering. I noticed when you explained what the word amethyst comes from meant you said that it meant 'to not become intoxicated by alcohol' and not for 'alcohol not to intoxicate you.' I don't entirely understand what the difference in nuance is, but you seemed very particular about your choice of words there." "Oh, you have an interest in Greek grammar? It's a difference in voice: active vs. passive. And the Greek word happens to be in the passive voice." "Nope, I don't. And even if I were, I'm definitely not that interested!" As we headed toward the door to the underground parking lot, the jeweler gave me a fast-paced lecture. He explained that back in the era when most people believed that gemstones possessed magical powers, people used to believe that amethysts would ward off intoxication, and thus their owners would, "not become intoxicated by alcohol." For however many thousands of years alcohol has existed, people have probably always overindulged and suffered for it. Even if you took Satoshi's story, for example, he acted recklessly because he wanted to protect Nozomi and didn't want her to get drunk. The way they got there was pretty awful, but I guess in the end, everything turned out all right. "Who was that god of wine again? Bacchus? Sounds like a pretty lazy guardian deity to me." "In various tales, Bacchus, also known as Dionysus, is a passionate god who is no stranger to drunkenly barging in on parties. Perhaps, in a sense, you could say he did bless our wayward client." "You should definitely not mention that to him." Richard gave me a look, like he was surprised I was telling him something so obvious. He pushed the button on his key fob when we got to the parking lot. The car made a couple of beeps as it awoke. I decided this might be my best shot. "Ahh, today's been such a lovely day, huh? We saw a love story end well—doesn't it just make you feel good about the world? I gotta hand it to you, your cupid strategy was a total success. I wonder what those two are gonna do next." "You know, I've been thinking this since I was waiting outside the room earlier, but you really are an atrocious actor." "I'm sure that if Tanimoto and I had someone in our corner who was so smart and honorable, then—" "There are those who say that love is a disease of the heart. Let us pray upon the power of the stone that prevents one from becoming intoxicated to swiftly quell your fever. Well, I guess people only tend to think something counts once what's behind the curtain is revealed. I think the moment satiating your vanity becomes your foremost priority, your budding romance has much more significant problems to worry about."

I was pretty sure that even if I passed the civil service exam in one try, I'd never be able to afford a Jaguar. But I wanted to be able to experience this indescribable slow-speed rollercoaster ride with her someday, even just once. I wanted to savor the feeling of our familiar world becoming an unfamiliar space with her. Though maybe she would just go, "Huh? What?" But maybe she would smile at me softly.

We'd stopped next to a hotel with a concert hall attached. I guessed it was a pretty fancy area. I'd never stayed at the hotel or even gone inside, so you might be wondering how I knew about it. Well, it all went back to a rather painful and pathetic moment last Christmas, when I was diligently doing research just in case I ever got a girlfriend.

seigi......... why's THIS the part that makes the chapter topical. you're so LAME!!!!! and SWEET ALSO SOMEHOW. let me throw rocks at you

Thank you. Thank you, past me. If I could go back in time and let you know that your lonely, girlfriendless internet browsing would pay off, I would. I feel like that could have kept you from suffering in vain. The customer that day was a man from the Maldives. He had a cheerful chat with Richard in a language I couldn't even recognize as they ate the tropical mousse I'd bought.

and that concludes this edition of Seigi Sunday on "The Amethyst of Protection". on this Still christmas.* Merry Christmas! and happy holidays!!! That ones not out of date :)

#seigi sundays #the case files of jeweler richard #still a little late but i figure it might still be christmas somewhere #(not a chance) (wrote that a few minutes after midnight)#i just have Sleep when you're tired disease. can't help it #this one's a shorter chapter and its not as hard a hitter as the last one #but it's still dear to me. love is so real and powerful and Sometimes people make stupid reckless decisions for it #and sometimes those decisions land you in the hospital. BUT! you'll have met nakata seigi. this is worth it #also Laying framework for guns down the line is never unimportant. Never forget this #having finished this one now though. Why in the hell did the last one demand so many photos from me. goddamn

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chuluoyi · 1 month ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄

- zayne x reader

everyone knows dr. zayne is cool as a cucumber, and it's a given for him that you're known as his wife, but when a fresh-faced new resident seemingly makes a move on you... what will he do?

genre/warnings: very suggestive, jealousy (a very jealous zayne, in fact), making out in his office, crack, fluff, hunter!reader, you and zayne have a daughter

note: inspired by that one kim min-kyu scene in business proposal :D this is actually an extension for nocturne of twilight and dawn's first light but can also be read as standalone

You hadn't seen your husband for two weeks.

There was a spring on your step when you entered Akso Hospital right after your long intercity mission. You had acquired some bruises and they weren't anything serious, so you figured you’d just have Greyson treat them. Besides, it gave you the perfect excuse to hand him some cookies as a souvenir.

And, of course, ask him to ring for Zayne to meet you once he had the time.

"Miss, do you need help?"

But a curious voice addressed you when you loitered around in the lobby, and you turned around to find a bright-faced young man with red hair and wearing doctor's coat.

"Ah, yes, I want to meet Dr. Zayne," you smiled. "Or Dr. Greyson will do."

The young doctor perked up at the names you mentioned. "Oh, are you a patient? Do you have an appointment already?"

"Hmm, no, actually I am—"

You halted mid-sentence before the words his wife slipped out, rethinking your choice. You knew of Zayne's infamous reputation in the hospital, and while almost everyone in his floor knew you, this new doctor didn't, and you thought it was best to leave it that way.

"Yeah, I already have an appointment," you nodded, plastering an thin smile. "Just tell Dr. Greyson that Y/N wants to meet him."

"Right, right, I'll page him now..." he mumbled, pulling out his pager and his phone. "I'll text him too..."

"Thank you."

"O-oh, Miss! Wait!" the young man called after you in a hurry when you turned around. "I've noticed it for a while, you have a cut on the side of your lips..."

"Ah, this..." Your fingers instinctively brushed the dried blood on your lips. You hadn’t thought the small cut was noticeable. "Yes, it’s from earlier—"

"Actually, I’m an ER resident!" he interrupted with a bright grin. "Let me treat you first!"

Caught off guard by his enthusiasm, you barely had time to react as he gently but firmly guided you towards the emergency room.

"Dr. Zayne! Dr. Zayne! Your wife is here~!"

Zayne had barely stepped into his office after a grueling surgery when Greyson barged in, all too casually, delivering the news with a grin. "She’s waiting in the lobby!"

He blinked, slightly taken aback. "Oh?"

You're back? He pulled out his muted phone, checking the notifications. Sure enough, you’d sent him a message an hour ago, letting him know you’d safely landed in Linkon.

His little, snarky wife. For the past two weeks you had been away, the house had felt lonelier. Sure, his daughter—who resembled you in personality, no less—was a bundle of sunshine and adorable beyond words, but without you, there was always that subtle void in the air.

Or maybe it wasn’t the house at all? Maybe it was just him—utterly, hopelessly whipped.

"Why isn’t she coming up to my office?" he asked suddenly, noticing the odd detail.

"Hmm, yeah, and it’s weird... why did the new resident say she’s asking for me?" Greyson mused, turning toward Zayne. "Don’t you want to meet her instead? Whatever she needs me for, I’m sure you could handle it."

Zayne promptly left his office and took long strides toward the elevator. As the doors started to close, he even half-sprinted, calling out to the person inside to hold it for him.

Okay, maybe he was a little too eager, but was it really so wrong to be this excited to see his wife again when the two of you had been apart for two weeks?

...then again, you didn't need to know. You would roast him to bits should you know he missed you this much.

Zayne got off at the lobby, expecting to find you there— only to find the usual flow of hospital staff and visitors. He was about to call you when he wandered past the emergency room and turned the corner—and that’s when he got his shock of the day.

There you were. But not alone.

With a guy.

Whose hand is touching your lips.

"It must be tough being a hunter, huh?"

The red-haired resident carefully tended to your bruised arm, wrapping it in a fresh bandage as you sighed, thinking back to the mission. "Yeah, there are definitely some hard days..."

"But despite all that, you still keep yourself in shape!" he remarked, eyeing your toned arms with a hint of admiration.

You let out a sheepish laugh, remembering those pull-ups sessions with Zayne. "Haha, that's because my husband makes sure I'm getting enough exercise..."

"You're married?!" His voice was filled with disbelief, and it caught you off guard, yet he grinned afterwards. "Wow! Is he a hunter too?"

You would've never guessed, boy. This resident doctor was cute, you thought, ever so curious at everything. You could only imagine the look on his face if you told him that the Dr. Zayne was your husband.

You were about to refute it when his fingers brushed against your lips. "Oh, sorry, let me apply some ointment here first..."

His touch felt cool to your lips and you were momentarily stunned at the contact— but then a gruff cough startled you so much you almost jumped.

The towering figure of your husband behind him. Zayne's dark gaze was fixed on the man in front of you, like he could murder the poor guy with just a look.

"Z-Zayne...?" you squeaked against the ointment on your lips, and the resident quickly turned behind him in surprise, hastily greeting him, "Oh, Dr. Zayne!"

Zayne shot the poor man a single, pointed look before his gaze shifted to you, clearly unamused.

He suddenly grabbed your hand and, without sparing the resident another glance, swiftly pulled you away. The other guy was left standing there, speechless, as Zayne led you off, leaving him in the dust.

. . .

"Zayne!"

Oh, how he actually missed his name coming out from your lips.

"Are you done with your schedule?" you asked as he pulled you into the elevator, confusion evident in the way you tilted your head. But when he didn’t answer, you glanced down at his firm grip on your arm, suddenly realizing something. "Wait, no... are you angry?"

Sigh. It irked him so much, actually. Because, how could you, after weeks—

No, he actually knew he was being irrational. He shouldn’t overreact like this just because someone else touched you. But why is he so annoyed, still?

"Wait, why?" you kept asking, wide-eyed, as the two of you stepped out and made way towards his office. "I'm not injured! I'm fine! It's just some bruises—"

Without a word, Zayne pulled you into his office, swiftly locking the door behind him. Before you could say another word, he cornered you against the wall, and you fell silent instantly.

It had been a while since he’d seen you this way—stunned, caught off guard, and utterly silent under his gaze. He studied your face closely, watching the way your breath hitched as the tension between you both thickened.

It sparked something inside him seeing you like this, a sense of satisfaction that he couldn’t quite explain, but one he welcomed nonetheless.

That was when he saw the blood on your lips. "Did you get punched in the face?"

"Y-Yes, but— it's nothing severe!" you defended, trying to convince him. "It's such a small cut anyway!"

He frowned. "Why didn't you come to me?"

"What? Hey, I was about to ask Greyson, but—"

That got him frown even deeper, even irate. "Why Greyson? When you come home with any injuries, you come to me, not anyone else."

You let out a resigned sigh, slumping your shoulders in defeat. "Because I know you'll fuss over me, duh."

"I don't fuss," he retorted.

"You do," you shot back, pursing your lips. "You try to act like this cool, calm robot all the time, but you always drone on and on whenever you patch me up. You're worried, it shows."

Zayne huffed, shifting his gaze away from you as he felt his face burn. Was he that obvious? How could he not, though, when you managed to get hurt so often and yet acted so innocent about it?

Then as if inspired, you caught on immediately. Your eyes sparkled, and a mischievous smirk tugged at your lips. "Wait, just now... don't tell me... Are you jealous?"

Damn.

"Heh, Dr. Zayne, really?" Your voice was playful now, mocking him. "Whoa, how can this be?"

How had you figured him out so easily?

You continued in a sing-song voice, putting both hands on your chest, "Ah, my heart flutters! My husband is apparently—"

Enough. This time, his patience snapped.

He didn’t hesitate even for a moment. A low growl escaped him, and in one swift motion, he crashed his lips against yours, silencing you with the most effective method he could think of.

"Mmph!" You gasped in surprise, the teasing words at the end of your tongue completely forgotten. His gray eyes gleamed. Been too long, he thought, and now he was making sure you knew just how badly he craved this.

The kiss was searing as he deepened it, his tongue seeking yours with urgency. "Hngh!" You let out a feeble whine when he teased you by biting your lips.

Zayne held back a snort. One of his hand then strayed inside your hunter uniform, unclasping your bra with a flick.

"—?!" Your eyes widened as you realized what was happening, and before you could process it, he pulled away. But you were far from right in thinking it was over. The dangerous gleam in his eyes kept you tense as he swiftly removed his glasses...

...before he pulled you back towards him and claimed your lips once again.

With a swift, commanding motion, he guided you toward his desk. His papers scattered at the sudden movement, but he had you bent over it regardless, forcing your body to arch. One arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, while his right hand fondled your breasts, repeatedly squeezing, palming and switching between them.

"Mmm...!" You let out a strangled moan, instinctively holding onto his shoulder, feeling the way how he groped you ignited your core. "Ahh..."

Your body was tantalizing as always. Hardened and sometimes bruised from your work it may be, but to Zayne, you were still beautiful as ever.

When you gasped for air, he decided he was done with your swollen lips. His lips then trailed down to your neck, sucking hard on it, creating a squelching sound that sent a shiver racing down your spine.

"W-what's... gotten into you...?" you breathed out, tangling your fingers in his hair, hyperaware of his hands still roaming over your nipples.

In response, he nibbled at your skin and flicked your breasts at the same time, causing you to freeze and draw a sharp, hitched breath. "Haah...!"

Unbeknownst to you, his lips curled wickedly at your reaction, and he continued to pepper your neck with series of wet sucks as if to mark you altogether. You writhed under him, whiny and sighing, relishing his hot breath on your skin.

You were utterly at his mercy, pliant and helpless in his hands. There was a deep satisfaction in knowing he was the only one who could bring you, his lawfully wedded wife, to this state—

Still, he wouldn’t allow you to be indecent in a place like this. When he finally pulled back, he was breathing heavily, eyes dark with lust, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of your jaw. "Don’t tempt me," he muttered, voice low and raspy.

You gazed up at him, your heart pounding. "Zayne..." you whispered, a whine broke through the heat on your flushed face.

His expression softened just enough, a flicker of tenderness cutting through the intensity. Pretty. That’s what you were, undeniably so. How he had missed out on you so long once was his greatest regret.

Carefully, he helped you sit upright, his touch gentle as he clasped your bra and began buttoning up your uniform, disheveled from his earlier ministrations.

The gentle way he touched you was a stark contrast to how it was earlier. "Is that a new way to treat busted lip?" you nudged his collar, feeling a little braver now.

"For bad wives, yeah."

"I'm not a bad wife! Just disobedient on some occasion."

Zayne's fingers brushed your face as he finished with your uniform, his dark-gray eyes steady on you. You pouted.

"You're the one who's bad," you accused with slight resentment, not missing a beat as the heat between your legs started to dissipate. "Leaving me unfinished like that."

"Hmm? Am I?" he murmured, the faintest amusement in his tone.

"You have to take responsibility tonight, you big meanie," you mumbled, your pout deepening as you avoided meeting his gaze.

Zayne snorted at the sight of you—so precious in his eyes, his thumb lightly grazing the corner of your lips in a gesture so tender it made your heart skip, before whispering in your ear:

"Well, if your voice won't wake our daughter, that is."

Epilogue

Not long after, just as you had gathered yourself and were preparing to leave the hospital to head home, a sudden knock at the door of his office startled you both.

Quickly, you moved to sit on the patient’s seat, feigning nonchalance as you braced yourself for whoever was on the other side. Zayne reached for the door, but before he could unlock it, a familiar voice called out.

"Excuse me!" the resident's voice sounded a bit hesitant but firm. "Dr. Zayne, the miss left her handbag earlier!"

Zayne let out a low, irked sigh. You glanced at him curiously, watching as he opened the door and came face-to-face with the redheaded resident.

Without a word, he extended his hand, and the resident blinked before handing over the bag.

"I-is the miss still here?" the young doctor asked, almost intimidated by his unfriendly gaze.

"Ma'am," Zayne corrected, his voice flat.

"Huh?"

"Call her ma'am. She's someone's wife."

"O-oh, and her husband is—"

"Me. I am her husband."

Your eyes widened in surprise at the matter-of-fact exchange, heat rising to your cheeks as Zayne’s words hung confidently in the air. He curtly thanked the poor resident before slamming the door shut in his face.

Your jaw practically hit the floor. "Zayne!" you gasped, staring at him as he turned back towards you, entirely unbothered.

Your husband was as cold as the snowman he often made, but somehow the way he boldly declared he was your husband was just so him that it made you so giddy.

You tilted your head, crossing your arms with a playful smile. "You’re really jealous, huh? How?"

He didn’t answer, his gaze still fixed elsewhere, most definitely trying to save his dignity.

You chuckled softly, stepping closer to him with a teasing sway. Your fingers traced the sharp line of his jaw, turning him to face you, and you winked at him mischievously.

"Well, I’m all yours. But if it makes you feel better, maybe I’ll stay away from any ER residents for a while~"

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