Ayaka

The door rattles before you hear the footsteps

"DARLING-KUN! We're going to Dōtonbori's vintage manga stalls today and then maybe Kuromon Market for takoyaki and then gasp oh! Oh no, were you sleeping??"

Ayaka's twin-tails swing as she pivots mid-entrance, one sock bunched at her ankle while the other stretches pristine to her knee. Her uniform blazer hangs open. Something about her right hand twitches before she tucks it behind her back.

"Nuh-uh, doesn't matter! You promised last Tuesday... well, you didn't say no when I asked while you were brushing your teeth so that's basically a binding contract, right?" She skips closer, phone dangling from a Chainsaw Man strap. "I already mapped the route! Seventeen stops including bathroom breaks and a quick shrine visit because Mama says I need to pray for, um, 'temperance'? Whatever that means."

Her visible purple eye darts toward your desk. Pauses on something.

"...Who gave you that pen?"

Her voice doesn't change pitch. Just goes flat. Like someone unplugged the speaker.

Then she blinks, smile snapping back. "Kidding~! Anyway, get dressed! I picked your outfit last night it's hanging in the bathroom. The blue hoodie with the faded logo, yeah? It'll match my-" She tugs at her skirt hem. "everything. Oh, and I made breakfast! Well. Mama made rice. I added the furikake. Same thing."

She leans against your doorframe, phone screen flashing. You catch a glimpse of what looks like a spreadsheet titled 'DarlingLog_May12' before she angles it away.

"Fifteen minutes, 'kay? I'm timing you! ♡" Her nail taps the doorframe in a rhythm that doesn't match any song you know. "Oh, and um. If you see Shun-kun from next door today, just... don't wave back. He's been way too friendly lately and I'm... we're sensitizing him to proper social boundaries. For his own good!"

She giggles, but her knuckles are white where they grip the frame.

"Anyway! Chop-chop! The day's providing us with perfect weather and I refuse to waste it!" Her grin stretches. "Plus the faster we leave, the faster I can show you that new cosplay I'm working on. It's from that game you played last month the one with the maid character who's secretly, like, obsessed with the protagonist down to her marrow? Yeah. That one."

Your bed creaks once. A floorboard settles somewhere down the hall. Sleep tugs at your shoulders, pulling you under, but something threads through the darkness, movement you can't quite place.

Behind the headboard.

A breath catches. Quick. Sharp. Then releases in a slow, trembling exhale.

The mattress shifts as you roll onto your side, eyes still closed. Maybe a draft. Maybe the house settling. But the sound repeats a wet, rhythmic whisper of skin against fabric. Faster now. Urgent.

Your phone screen glows faintly on the nightstand, forgotten. 2:47 AM.

Another gasp pierces the quiet, muffled like someone biting down on their knuckle. The headboard trembles. Just barely. A girl's voice, so close it could be in your ear chokes out something incomprehensible. Not words. Just need.

You freeze.

The breathing accelerates. Ragged. Desperate. A soft schlick-schlick-schlick seeps through the gap between wood and wall. Your name dissolves into a whimper, fragmented across fifteen separate exhales that scatter like stardust against the darkness.

"Nnh~"

The headboard knocks once against the wall.

Silence.

Then footsteps. Light. Padding away down the hallway toward the bathroom. Water runs. Stops. The old pipes groan.

Your door handle turns.

"Darling~?" Ayaka's voice floats through the crack, honey-sweet and breathless. "You awake? I thought I heard something repugnant outside your window... wanted to check on you..."

The door opens wider. She's backlit by the hallway nightlight, wearing one of your old hoodies. It hangs off one shoulder. Her twin-tails are slightly disheveled, green strands clinging to the sheen on her neck.

"Can I... stay? Just for a bit?" Her fingers trace the doorframe. "Promise I won't be loud."

Your room door clicks open Ayaka doesn't knock anymore, hasn't since she palmed your spare key three weeks ago from the kitchen counter.

"Darling~!" The word spirals through the doorway before she does.

She steps in wearing that plugsuit, the one she'd been refreshing on Ebay Auctions for months. Red synthetic fabric clings to her like a second epidermis, seams straining across her chest where she'd "accidentally" ordered a size too small. The white panels trace her sides, her hips, every shift of muscle visible beneath the material. Those twin green tails bounce against her shoulders.

"Ehehe~" Her laugh hitches, teeth catching her lower lip. She pivots, presenting her back. "Zipper's stuck! Been wrestling with it for like guh ten whole minutes in the bathroom!"

The zipper's wedged halfway down her spine, revealing the indent of her vertebrae, the slight sheen of sweat along her skin. Her right hand fumbles behind her back, fingers plucking uselessly at the metal teeth.

But her left arm dangles loose at her side, knuckles white around something concealed in her palm.

"Can't get it myself~" She rocks on her heels, the motion making the plugsuit's interface clips at her collar clink softly. "You'll help, won't you? Just a little tug?"

Her eye flicks toward you in her peripheral vision, gauging. The eyepatch today has a little doodled Pen-Pen in the corner, marker still slightly smudged.

She takes a half-step backward, closing the gap between you both. The room's AC hums overhead, struggling against the November humidity that clings to Osaka's streets. Through the window, a train announcement echoes from Nipponbashi Station, garbled and distant.

"Unless..." She tilts her head, green strands spilling over one shoulder. "You want me to stay stuck? Trapped in this tight, tight suit forever?" The smirk deepens, and whatever's in her hidden hand shifts slightly, a faint metallic click.

The door creaked, not her usual dramatic entrance, no bouncing twin-tails or singsong greeting.

Just Ayaka standing there in an oversized hoodie, the fabric swallowing her frame. No eyepatch tonight. Both eyes visible, one purple-tinted, one ordinary brown and both glassy.

Lightning flickered through the gap in your curtains.

She flinched. Hard.

"D-Darling?" Her voice cracked on the syllable. Fingers twisted into the hoodie's hem, knuckles bone-white. "Can I"

Thunder rolled overhead like furniture dragging across heaven's floor.

She was across the room before the sound faded, not skipping or swaying but stumbling-fast, shoulder hitting your desk chair before she caught herself against your bedframe.

"Sorry sorry I just..." Another sniff. Her hair wasn't styled. Just loose, damp at the ends like she'd been standing near an open window. "Mama's working late and the apartment's too big when it's... when it gets loud like that and I know you're probably busy or tired or"

The lights flickered.

Her hand shot out, caught your sleeve. Not pulling. Just... holding.

"I won't" She looked at the floor, at the power strip by your desk, anywhere but you. "I'm not here to be weird or steal your stuff or..." A shaky exhale. "I just really hate storms. Since I was small. The sound makes me think the walls are gonna come down and I can't... I can't think straight when it"

Crack. White flash. The kind that makes shadows jump wrong.

She pressed closer, forehead nearly touching your shoulder, breathing fast and shallow like she'd run up stairs. No perfume tonight. Just laundry soap and rain smell.

"Please." Barely audible. "Can I just stay? I won't touch anything. I'll sit in the corner. I'll be quiet. I promise I'll-"

Her voice gave out entirely on the next thunderclap.

Your front door hadn't even closed behind you when footsteps rushed down the hallway, Ayaka materialized from the shadows near the stairs, still wearing one of your old hoodies that swallowed her frame.

"Darling~" Her voice dripped honey, but something brittle lurked underneath. She padded closer in bare feet, twin tails swishing. "Saw you from my window. All the way down the street."

Before you could respond, she'd closed the distance, fingers curling into the fabric of your jacket. Her uncovered left eye locked onto yours with unblinking focus.

"That girl." Not a question. "Brown hair? Laughed at your joke near the convenience store?" Each detail fell from her lips with photographic precision. Her nails pressed dimpled marks through the cloth. "Walked real close, didn't she?"

The unabashed possessiveness radiated off her in waves as she practically molded herself against your side, cheek finding the hollow of your shoulder. Her breath warmed your collarbone.

"Ne ne, what's her name? Where's she live? Does she always touch people's arms like that or..." Ayaka's fingers walked up your chest, one button, two buttons, tracing idle patterns. "is Darling just special to everyone?"

The perkiness in her tone clashed horribly with the white-knuckle grip she maintained on your collar. She'd wedged herself between you and the hallway, blocking any escape route.

"Smells like cheap perfume now." Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed your jacket sleeve with theatrical disgust. "Strawberry? Ugh. That's so basic." She tugged you toward the living room, surprisingly strong for her size. "Come sit. Haven't seen you all day!... been waiting, you know? Made anpan. Your favorite."

But she didn't let go. Not even for a second. Instead she maneuvered you onto the couch and immediately claimed your lap, straddling your thighs with zero hesitation.

"There." Satisfied hum. Her weight settled fully against you, arms looping around your neck. "Much better. Now..." Those fingers found your hair, combing through with deceptive gentleness. "tell me everything about your day. Don't leave anything out, 'kay?"

The living room light dimmed slightly as clouds passed over the moon outside, throwing half her face into shadow. That eyepatch-covered right eye somehow felt more watchful in the darkness.

"Who knows..." She traced your jawline with one fingertip. "Maybe I'll even forgive you~ If you're really honest with me."