Fate

Fuuko: "Jerk."
Tokiya: "Bitch."

*****






It was a while before Fuuko realized that she’d been staring out into space in a daze, her kettle already whistling so she had to rush to her kitchen from her bedroom to handle the boiling water seeping down her marble countertop. She cursed out loud at the mess she was going to have to clean up. Her stressed mind just wouldn’t lend her the strength she needed to tidy up her apartment, not after the conversation with Tokiya last night that kept playing itself over and over in her head. They had sat down at his living room a mile apart from each other in separate couches, and from then on began what Fuuko believed to be the end of her life.

“This isn’t really about me, is it,” Tokiya had asked rhetorically when the conversation came to a conclusion. His voice was a low tone that told her he was past anger and was bordering on something else Fuuko dared not invoke in her icy lover.

It was by far the most difficult talk Fuuko had ever had, and Tokiya hadn’t even as much as glanced at her breasts even though she was all there, clad in nothing but her sexy lingerie she’d put on for him that night.

All throughout the talk she’d been extremely mad and was expecting an apology from him, but even then she’d had nothing but erotic scenes of her and Tokiya playing over and over in her head. Her face was reddening because she knew her nipples were protruding from arousal, but she only wished that Tokiya thought she as flushing in anger at him. She needed an explanation. She wanted to hear the truth.

But he didn’t even deny anything.

He didn’t explain a word.

He didn’t even care.

“Believe what you want.”

“If that’s what you want,” Fuuko thought angrily, hot tears springing from her eyes again. “I’ll damn well believe anything I want to, you ass!” She cursed out loud to no one in particular, hurling the kettle mitten she was holding at the blank kitchen wall, recalling the way Tokiya had just shrugged nonchalantly to her accuses. “You can go fuck your dick off with any whore you want. And while you’re at it, give your slut the honor of not knowing about your a-woman-a-week routine so that she can figure it out on her own and get devastated for ever falling for that fucking body of yours, you big prick!”

She chucked the utensils on the counter down to the floor, shoved the placemats off the tabletop, and kicked the pantry with all her might. “I hate you!” She screamed and knocked over her kettle, letting her boiling water splash down with a soft hiss and crawl is way in between her floor tiles, watching as it mirrored the way her angry tears were now seeping through and covering her face. “I hate you, Mikagami Tokiya!” She banged on her cupboard over and over until her knuckles began to bruise. And finally, she clenched her fists to her sides, closed her eyes, and cried out all the pain in her heart. “I hate you!!!” She yelled until it reached the back of her throat. So much that it hurts…she added inwardly, sobbing.

It was then that she slid down her kitchen floor, helpless and alone, in the middle of all the mess that she realized was now her life.

***
Fuuko stared down at the clean sheets, blinking as she tried to clear her thoughts long enough to replay all her sexual escapades with him on this bed. It had been a week since she’d last spoken to him, and if it weren’t for her little drinking fest down at the rock-climbing center today with her co-workers, she wouldn’t even be here now, in his room, staring at their ex-love nest, waiting for him to come home.

Closure, they had told her. Closure was what she needed, and then she would finally be able to move on with her life. She knew all she had to do was march up to his apartment and tell him off right by his doorway, right in his face.

It was too bad he wasn’t home, and, knowing exactly where his spare keys were, she’d graciously let herself in.

Everything was pretty much the same. His place was still as neat and organized as if it were a woman’s place, and every corner of the apartment just reminded her of all the times she’d let him take her. Every corner.

And now, staring at his well-kept bed inside his dark and empty room, she was extremely drunk and extremely pissed. That was never a good combination.

Sighing impatiently, she plopped down on the bed and her eyes fell on the bedside drawer, which was opened ajar. And she realized that in all her adventures in this very same room, she’d never really known what was inside this little drawer.

Of course, when you’re naked and reaching your orgasm underneath a sex god, you tend to forget about silly little wooden containers right beside where you’re lying down.

She tugged curiously on the drawer and found herself staring at what she never thought Tokiya would leave behind in his room. It was none other than his Ensui.

She gingerly took it in her hands, running her fingers all over its contours, committing to memory every single curve. It was his most prized possession, a burdensome memory of what’s left of his tortured past. It held the very meaning of his existence, and here, holding it in her hands, Fuuko felt that she had every bit of his essence. Come to think of it, all this time that they’d been seeing each other, she never really heard him talk about his past…at least, not anymore.

Perhaps he’d truly left it all behind him now. And she was glad for that.

Clutching it tighter in her hands, Fuuko rubbed her thumb against the cold and shiny glass orb that said “water” on the tip of the handle. She stared at her unkempt self in its reflection for a while, and then, after what might have been a bout of insanity and plain drunkenness, she shifted her position and lay herself on his bed. She slowly pulled her underwear down and kicked it off, letting it land in a heap on the carpeted floor. Then, without thinking, she spread her legs wide open and shoved the end of his madougu inside of her.

She gasped in sharp pain as her walls enclosed the cold orb and the metal handle of the weapon, shivering as she adjusted to its size and the feel of it inside her womanhood. Her thoughts a complete blur, she bit her lip and slowly pushed it in deeper and deeper, until she moaned and the pleasure started to kick in. She closed her eyes and began to pump it into and out of her, groaning louder and shoving it harder with the next penetration. She clutched the sheets with her free hand and masturbated faster and faster, panting and sweating and crying out in ecstasy. Her juices were trickling down onto his clean sheets, and when it was finally too much, she pulled the weapon out and cried out in bliss as her juices messily streamed out her orgasm. She lay there on his bed, panting heavily, sweating and trembling at what she’d just done. Her eyes were drooping and she almost dozed off right then, when she heard a familiar click and the front door slamming shut. She jumped out of bed and frantically shoved the still dripping madougu back into the drawer, her thoughts, or what was rationally left of it, immediately snapping her back to reality. She smoothed down her ruffled skirt and swallowed heavily. She hadn’t thought about what she would do or say once he actually arrived, or how she would explain letting herself in unannounced.

Luckily for her, he was just too damn perceptive.

“How long do you intend to hide out in my bedroom?” She heard him call out from the kitchen, and this was when she took a deep breath and stepped out to meet him.

There were no descriptions needed. Clad in his crisp polo shirt with the tie loosened and hanging sexily disheveled on his collar, he was still as steaming hot and drop-dead gorgeous as before. And now that he was looking at her with a livid fury in his eyes, Fuuko realized he’d reached the zenith of sexiness and that there was nothing that could top her lust for him right now.

And that made all her rage come rushing back.

“You,” she hissed, stepping closer to him in anger. “Where the hell do you get off, fucking me like your personal whore whenever you felt like it?”

“Oh god, not again…” Tokiya muttered and rolled his eyes in exasperation, turning to leave her.

“What do you mean, ‘not again’, you bastard?” Fuuko grabbed his arm and stopped him from turning his back on her. “You can’t just pound me like you mean it and then go off on your little fuckfest with the rest of the women in town!”

Tokiya kept a leveled stare into her pink face, infuriating Fuuko even more. “You arrogant prick! Do you think you’re some sort of sex god who can just fuck whomever he wants? Do you really think you can just warm your dick into our holes and we’d be bloody thankful for the damn opportunity?”

“Fuuko, you’re slurring.”

“Shut up!” she went on, swaying a bit as she kept on closing in on him. “If the rest of your happy little sluts are willing to get banged for their pussy’s worth, then let me tell you something: I am fucking not one of them!”

Tokiya sighed exasperatedly. “You’re drunk, Fuuko. Go home.”

“Don’t you fucking tell me what I should or shouldn’t do!” She slammed her foot on the floor and Tokiya groaned in frustration. “Fuck you for telling me you wanted our ‘thing’ to mean something! That’s what you tell all your bitches so that they’d willingly open up and let you hammer them on their office desks!” Fuuko stopped closing in on him as he’d now hit the cupboard and was no longer stepping back from her. He rolled his eyes again, and this was when Fuuko gritted her teeth and felt like she would explode.

She instantly raised her hand and slapped him hard across his cheek. “Damn you, Mikagami Tokiya! If going on a city-wide fuckfest is your idea of a meaningful relationship, then you must have a fucking problem!”

This was when Tokiya finally looked at her and returned her burning glare with an icy stare. The red streak on his cheek must’ve clicked a switch. “Do you want to know what my problem is, Fuuko?” Tokiya stepped closer to her. “Do you?”

Fuuko’s nostrils flared and her face flushed in inexplicable fury. Was he mocking her?

“You are, Fuuko,” he snapped, glaring at her fiery purple orbs. “You’re my big, slutty, fucking problem.”

Fuuko felt herself fly into a rage and she raised her hand to slap him again, when this time, he caught it effortlessly and before she could even recover from her shock, he roughly pulled her towards him and kissed her hard on her lips.

The instant she felt his rough kiss, her inner desires got the best of her yet again, and her hand instinctively flew down to his crotch to squeeze him, making him groan for her form. He pushed his tongue hungrily into her mouth and they stumbled backwards onto the kitchen wall, Fuuko arching her back so that her breasts were pushed up against his chest. She deepened their kiss, moaning her pleas into him, one leg wrapping itself naughtily around his waist. Tokiya’s hands were immediately at work, ripping her blouse off her writhing body and letting the buttons fly off and drop with a clatter onto the marble floor. Fuuko broke away from the kiss and brought her lips to his ear, panting and gasping as he began to molest her expertly, letting her pleasure reverberate through his senses.

Fuuko’s hands hooked themselves onto his hard shoulders as she continued to moan at the animalistic nature of what they were doing; everything was so rough, so hostile, so vicious, even so painful…and yet everything felt so extremely pleasurable. His hands…his lips…his body…he was treating her like he’d never done before, and she loved the violence of it all. She cried out his name when he sucked at her nipples cruelly, arousing her so much that she entangled her fingers into his hair and asked him for more.

At this, he grabbed her other leg and made her straddle him fully, so that he could carry her into his bedroom while still feasting on her pink protrusions. They staggered into the darkness of his room, Fuuko calling out his name in throaty syllables as his fingers were now penetrating her and aggravating her wetness. She came even before he could withdraw his fingers, and as she shivered onto him, she felt him throw her onto his mattress as he pounced on top of her. Kissing her forcefully again, he lifted her skirt up to her waist and ripped off her panties, as she fumbled for his belt until she freed his arousal. Her fingers closed in around him and she began to position herself. Foreplay was out of the question; she wanted him to take her now more than ever.

Sensing her need amassing as much as his was, he pulled away from the kiss and straightened up. He aggressively held open both her legs by her ankles and without warning thrust himself into her to her inexplicable delight. Crying out, “yes” to his every penetration, she didn’t have to tell him to fuck her faster or harder, because he seemed to feel exactly what she was feeling, and seemed to want exactly what she was wanting. In contrast to all their previous encounters, this time, none of them ever took their eyes off each other, or even closed their eyes, while the deed was being done. The intensity of the glaring look they both shared magnified the arousal, the pleasure, the aggression, the bliss. Even after they both came like never before and Tokiya fell on top of her, supporting his weight by placing both his hands on either side of her head, their gaze never left each other’s, and they panted out the afterglow staring intensely into each other’s eyes.

After what seemed like hours, it was Tokiya who broke the ice. “We should really fight more often.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

They closed in for another rough kiss, rolling around the mattress, entwining themselves and ridding each other of the rest of their clothing, until Fuuko was lying facedown on the bed, panting. Tokiya entered her dripping womanhood from behind, thrusting heavily for a few times to her loud moans of pleasure before pulling her up so that her back was against his body and he could squeeze her plumpness as they bounced when he hammered her fiercely. She raised her arm and her fingers crawled around his nape, pulling his head down so that she could give him an angry kiss. Again, they orgasmed together, moaning into each other’s mouths, and when all juices were gushed out and both organs were spent, they fell back down on the bed, panting and sweating in delight.

“I hate you…” Fuuko mumbled almost incoherently, her eyes closing in exhaustion, the alcohol ultimately taking its toll on her pleasure.

“Ditto,” Tokiya grumbled lowly. He pulled her towards his warmth in an embrace, running butterfly kisses all over her face.

“I mean it…” Fuuko muttered as she snuggled closer to him. “You’re despicable…”

“Right.” He began to nip at her neck, licking her skin as she whimpered softly. Fuuko moaned for a bit, until she remained motionless save for her heaving breasts, and Tokiya withdrew from the sexy contours of her neck to see that she’d fallen asleep. Looking at her in his arms, he suddenly felt his heart breaking, and for the first time since he lost his sister, he felt a fear so terrifying grip the entirety of his heart.

It was in that split-second moment that he realized he’d never beheld anything so beautiful in his life.