CHAPTER 34: BACKPACK IN THE TOILET

Inside the house, Renji was met with the scent of lavender air freshener and chicken soup; Miyu was a good organizer in the center so it made sense that she knew how to cook.

The first thing his eyes noticed as he walked to the kitchen was a large framed photo of Miyu and Mrs. Hoshizawa, smiling at some charity event.

Renji wondered why she was so obsessed with Hana. To the extent of getting a large framed photo in her living room.

If he guessed that Mrs. Hoshizawa had never even seen it, he’d probably be right.

He entered the kitchen, a compact space with laminate counters scarred from years of use, a small dining table pushed against the wall, and cabinets stocked with mismatched dishes.

One by one, he placed the supplies by the door as the evening sun glowed crimson-orange lights through the windows.

Renji let out a long, frustrated sigh, rolling his shoulders to shake off the ache from lugging the crates.

He dropped his schoolbag by the table to let go of some weight before continuing. The kitchen was cramped, forcing him to maneuver carefully, his uniform shirt brushing against the cabinets.

But to stain the experience even more, Miyu hovered nearby

Rather than doing whatever it was she could be doing by this time, she took upon herself to monitor him like a lizard.

She paced a tight circle, her slippers slapping the floor with each step. Whenever he returned to the kitchen with a particular supply, she always had one or two things to say.

"You’re putting the sardines too high! Create a new row! It will fall over at night and I’m not going to be waking up late to fix it!" she whined, pointing with a bony finger, her lips pursing in a perpetual pout. "God, do you even know how to organize anything?"

Renji maintained a calm character throughout all of it. He simply placed the carton on the floor, stacked others on top of it to create a new balanced row.

But his calmness only agitated her the more, keeping her on edge as she circled the place like a shark in a kiddie pool.

Renji stopped after a carton of sardines and turned to her. "Isn’t there something you could be doing? I don’t know, like making dinner for your husband?"

He looked around. "Where’s your husband, anyway!"

Miyu straightened, puffing out her flat chest as if it were a badge of honor. Rather than finding the question suspicious, she only became defensive.

"My husband is a busy man! He comes home late because he’s a senior analyst at Kojima & Associates. You wouldn’t know it, it’s one of the top firms in the city."

Her words were a boast, her eyes gleaming with a self-satisfied laugh, her hands gesturing grandly as if painting a picture of luxury.

Renji nodded, his face neutral. ’Yeah, right. He probably stays late on purpose to avoid coming home to this hysterical harpy. Who could blame him?’

He turned to go get more boxes, but Miyu wasn’t done. She followed after him, stopping him in the corridor as her whining escalated into a full-blown tirade.

"You know, I knew you were trouble the second you walked into the center," she said with folded arms. "All those ’helpful’ smiles, volunteering every day... please. I know what you doing, which is why I stopped you all day from getting closer to Mrs. Hoshizawa."

She laughed, vindictive glee all over her motherly face.

"And don’t think helping me now changes anything. This? This is just you trying to get on my good side. It won’t work. I’m going to expose you, Renji Kenshiro. Mark my words; Everyone will see you for the scheming little opportunist you are!"

She laughed again.

Renji just stared at her. "I need to use your bathroom," he said, slinging his schoolbag over his shoulder, the strap digging into his skin. "Can you tell me where it is?"

Miyu’s eyes narrowed, her head tilting like a bird spotting a worm. "Why are you bringing your bag?"

Renji’s face flushed slightly, but he maintained his confidence and blurted the first excuse that came to mind. .

"Because I’m a guy? I have a way I clean myself when I’m done."

He stood there and looked at her.

She looked at him, lips pursing.

There was silence for a while.

Renji shrugged, lowering his bag. "Or would you like me to show you?"

"No!" Miyu covered her face. "Just... go. It’s the second door on the left. Don’t touch anything."

Renji wore his bag and headed down, her eyes lingering on him as he left.

Once he got into the bathroom, he immediately locked the door and dropped to one knee, unzipping his bag with trembling fingers.

It wasn’t like he was going to be caught or anything. He had enough time to himself inside here, but everything he attempted to write a woman’s name on the Milf Note, there was always this thrill of fear and excitement.

It was like he knew he knew he was something immoral, and even though he wasn’t going to get caught, the thrill of the power he had in that moment, excited him.

He flipped the Note open, pen already in hand, and scrawled Miyu’s name with feverish speed.

’Miyu Ishikawa’

’Fellow volunteer at Sunshine Community Center.’

He snapped the book shut, breathing in quick bursts.

The thrill retreated, and an air of relief washed over him. ’Now, we wait.’

He straightened up, splashing water on his face to steady himself. After a few minutes, he came out, his expression neutral, the bag slung over his shoulder as if nothing had changed.

Miyu wasn’t in the kitchen when he returned so he headed back to the porch to get the rest of the supplies.

He picked up a small bag of rice, and carried it weakly to the kitchen.

"You’re really strong."

"Ahhhh!"

Renji yelped and spun around. There he saw Miyu, standing by the kitchen’s entrance.

She’d ditched her volunteer polo and slacks for a thin white tank top. The fabric clung to her slender frame like a second skin, her small breasts were now perky and outlined very clearly.

Renji could even see the faint shadow of her nipples pressing against the material. Her shorts rode high on her hips, revealing her toned legs, the hem riding up to show a sliver of her flat stomach.

She fidgeted with the hem, tugging it down nervously, her cheeks flushed a light pink.

"Miyu?" Renji raised a confused brow. "Did you... change?"

"Oh," she looked down at her clothing, redness burning on her nervous cheeks. "It’s... it’s just a little hot in here," she mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

Out of nowhere, her voice was suddenly softer, and she did this finger-twisting thing with the fabric of her tank top. "From all the unpacking, I mean."

Renji’s eyes flicked over her, surprised by the sudden different look.

Her hair was down too. It was shoulder length, not very long, but still better than packing it up in a bun all day.

’The Note really hit her like a truck. It’s like she’s a completely different person, and she’s desperate for me to notice.’

He only said "Oh, okay," and returned to the remaining supplies. He walked past her, grabbed a bag of toys and a crate of energy drinks, then placed them in the kitchen.

Miyu watched him throughout all of it. He could feel her watching him, but he ignored her completely, stacking the supplies with the intention to get it over with and leave.

Miyu suddenly shifted closer when he placed a box of ramen over another. "Did you hear what I said before...?" she said shyly, her lips squirming. "You’re... pretty strong. Carrying all those boxes like it’s nothing. I bet you could lift me without breaking a sweat."

She laughed awkwardly. Renji realized that this was her attempt at a joke.

Gosh, it wasn’t funny at all.

Her hand brushed his arm as she "helped" with a bag, her slender fingers lingering a second too long, her cheeks flushing deeper.

Renji stared at her for a while then said, "Ha ha! That’s pretty funny."

After that, he just turned around and kept stacking, his back to her, his focus on the task.

She tried again, her tone softening, her body language more open as she leaned against the counter, her tank top riding up slightly.

"I was just kidding earlier, you know... about exposing you. You’re not that bad. All those things I said was just my way of... messing with you."

Renji raised a brow. "Really? Cause you seemed pretty serious."

"No," she let out a nervous laugh. "How could I be? Actually, you’re kind of... helpful. Reliable, even."

"The way you rescued Mrs. Hoshizawa. You’re really brave."

Her fingers played with the hem of her top, pulling it down to reveal a sliver of her midriff.

Renji didn’t turn, his concentration on the pile of boxes he was arranging.

Her smile faltered, her shoulders slumping as she bit her lip, her hands fidgeting with the counter edge.

She stepped closer, her hand brushing his back "accidentally," her breath hitching as she waited for a response.

Nothing.

Her face fell, a wave of shame washing over her, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she turned away, pretending to rearrange a box.

’What am I doing? He’s completely ignoring me and yet... What’s wrong with me?’

When the last supply was stacked, Renji wiped his forehead and turned to her.

"Hey, do you mind if I use your shower? I feel really sweaty and I can’t head home like this."

Miyu blinked, startled, then nodded eagerly. A little too eagerly.

"Y-Yes! Of course! Towels are in the closet. Take your time."

Her voice was hopeful, her cheeks flushing with anticipation.

Renji gave her a quick smile that almost made her melt. "Thanks."

He took his backpack and headed to the bathroom that she directed him to. Her eyes followed him, and soon enough, her feet too, walking silently behind him to the bathroom.