So, even though the two of them had never officially met, based on their conversation and [past] memories, Morofushi Hiromitsu had already gained a fairly clear understanding of Kisaragi Chiyo's personality.
Even though Kisaragi Chiyo's answer wasn't surprising, Morofushi Hiromitsu couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion in his heart.
"I will wish you well." From the moment she learned of her editor's complex identity, Kisaragi Chiyo had long expected that Morofushi Hiromitsu would leave.
Therefore, when he was saving people before, even if he used the excuse of not wanting to change editors, they all understood clearly that Morofushi Hiromitsu could not continue to stay cooped up in that small room.
Morofushi Hiromitsu would leave as an editor, but Morofushi Hiromitsu as a friend would always be there.
“Thank you for your understanding.. Kisaragi Chiyo.” Morofushi Hiromitsu's expression couldn't help but soften. He listened to the muffled background noise coming from the other end of the phone; it sounded like Hara Kenji and Matsuda Jinpei were discussing whether or not to put carrots in beef stew.
A light chuckle escaped his lips, Morofushi Hiromitsu brought up another topic in a casual tone, "Do you want to pick a time to meet up soon?"
Kisaragi Chiyo: ".."
Kisaragi Chiyo fell silent. He seemed to remember something, moved the phone in his hand a little further away; he wasn't actually very sure whether the other person had remembered or not.
No thanks." Kisaragi Chiyo declined with a very sincere tone. "Your body has only just recovered; you should focus on recuperating for a while.. As for meeting up, there will be plenty of opportunities in the future.
“Hmm..” Morofushi Hiromitsu listened to the voice coming from the other end of the call, which grew faint and then loud again, the smile in his eyes deepened. "Are you really not going to consider it?"
"I won't consider it." Kisaragi Chiyo's attitude was very firm.
Alright." Morofushi Hiromitsu let out a sigh of feigned regret. "You're right, there will be plenty of opportunities in the future; there's no need to rush.
But Oboshima-sensei," Morofushi Hiromitsu threw in one last sentence before ending the call, "there is one thing I must make clear to you: at least until your new book is completed, I will continue to serve as your editor.
Therefore, there are some things that must be understood, even if they are not explicitly said.
*
After the call ended, Kisaragi Chiyo stared at the dark phone screen, then slowly leaned back against the sofa. His eyes were tightly closed and his right hand rubbed his brow, looking as though he had exhausted a great deal of energy.
“What's wrong?" A shadow descended from above, cool fingertips lightly brushed his face. Then, Kisaragi Chiyo felt the sofa sink as someone sat down beside him.
“Why do you look like a wilted eggplant?” The fingertips continued to move, landing first on his closed eyelids, sweeping across the bridge of his nose, finally pressing gently against his soft lower lip.
Kisaragi Chiyo didn't even need to open his eyes to know that the person arriving was Hara Kenji. He didn't feel like moving at the moment, so he simply let the other man touch him however he pleased.
"Kisaragi.." Seeing that the young man was ignoring him, Hara Kenji didn't mind. He simply curved his eyes and smiled silently, with a certain level of tacit consent, he leaned even closer to the other.
His wrist was gripped, long fingers pried open a gap, probing along the edge where the glove met the skin.
The Evil Spirit's movements were very slow; he enjoyed this process of being slow yet capable of amplifying the youth's perception. He lowered his eyes, his dark purple eyes staring intently at the expression on the youth's face.
He saw Kisaragi Chiyo's eyelashes tremble slightly, her eyebrows knitting together a bit, likely because of that maddening itch, her lips involuntarily pursed.
“What were you just talking about with Little Morofushi?” Hara Kenji asked curiously, his fingertips scratching Kisaragi Chiyo's palm.
"It's nothing.." Kisaragi Chiyo opened his eyes and tilted his head slightly to the side to dodge the kiss the other was leaning in for, but he didn't expect this dodge to play right into Hara Kenji's hands.
In the next second, Kisaragi Chiyo felt the skin on her neck being bitten by the other person with neither light nor heavy force.
"Good dogs don't bite people." Kisaragi Chiyo shot a sidelong glance at the Evil Spirit that was currently flashing him a beaming smile.
"You're right.." As if having tasted something sweet, Hara Kenji's next kiss fell upon Kisaragi Chiyo's lips, as expected, he was bitten again.
"That's why I'm only wicked toward you." Gazing at those moist, crimson lips, Hara Kenji spoke the second half of his sentence unhurriedly.
Kisaragi Chiyo felt that Hara Kenji had become a bit more glib than he was before his memories returned.
"Whether or not, you'll know if you try it for yourself, won't you?" Hara Kenji rubbed his nose against Kisaragi Chiyo's cheek, pressing most of his body weight against him. One hand cupped the young man's face, while the other had already slipped inside his haori, attempting to undo the buttons of his shirt.
"So now you don't want to know what I talked about with Morofushi?" Kisaragi Chiyo pressed one hand against his chest while the other twisted the Evil Spirit's smooth, long hair.
"If you are willing to tell me." Hara didn't have a strong desire to know the contents of what Kisaragi Chiyo and Morofushi Hiromitsu had been discussing; he was simply curious after seeing the young man's weakened state following the phone call.
“Morofushi asked me if I wanted to find some time to meet up recently.” Kisaragi Chiyo caught a glimpse of the fangs in Hara Kenji's mouth and, feeling a sudden surge of playfulness, he squeezed his index finger between the Evil Spirit's lips during the pause in the conversation.
Hara Kenji was quite cooperative with Kisaragi Chiyo's movements; he was even worried it might be inconvenient for him to observe, so he intentionally opened his mouth even wider.
"What do you say?" A somewhat muffled voice was squeezed out from the Evil Spirit's throat. Because Kisaragi Chiyo's fingertips were pressing against its fangs, he naturally felt a slight vibration when the Evil Spirit spoke.
"I refuse." Kisaragi Chiyo had finished feeling it and tried to withdraw her hand, but she was a step too slow, her finger was bitten by the Evil Spirit.
"Don't bite the glove." Kisaragi Chiyo frowned.
But upon hearing this, Hara Kenji's eyes crinkled at him, with slow movements, his teeth bit into the edge of the glove's finger, then slowly pulled it off the young man's hand.
It was clearly just a glove, yet Kisaragi Chiyo managed to discern other meanings from it.
“Why refuse?” Hara Kenji let go of his mouth, his gloves fell to the ground, but he couldn't care about that right now; more than the gloves, he wanted to help Kisaragi Chiyo take off other things.
"Because the deadline is approaching." And he hadn't written a single word yet.
Hara Kenji: ".."
Hara Kenji naturally knew about the love-hate relationship between Kisaragi Chiyo and Morofushi Hiromitsu—the madness of the manic editor and the despair of the procrastinating author.
"Progress?" Hara Kenji asked cautiously.
"Zero," Kisaragi Chiyo said, her expression turning slightly lifeless.
"The date?" Hara's voice dropped even lower.
Five days from now.
"Then wouldn't there still be plenty of time?" Hara Kenji breathed a sigh of relief.
But Kisaragi Chiyo's expression still did not improve. He let out a long sigh and said to Hara Kenji in a sorrowful tone, "Do you think it's possible that I've developed a habit of being unable to finish writing anything until the very last day before the deadline?"
"In that case, Little Morofushi will become quite scary, you know," Hara whispered in warning.
I know," Kisaragi Chiyo said, a pained expression crossing her face. "That's why I refused Morofushi's invitation to meet.
He had been spared from facing a frenzied editor who was facing a deadline but still hadn't received the manuscript.
“So cute.” Watching the young man's distressed expression, Hara Kenji suddenly let out a chuckle. He poked the soft flesh on the young man's cheek; having grown accustomed to Kisaragi Chiyo's usually calm and emotionless demeanor, seeing him show any other vivid emotion occasionally felt like being struck in the heart by something soft.
To put it bluntly, he was just completely charmed by her cuteness.
To put it even more bluntly, this is just the magical filter of someone in love!
"Are you mocking me?" Kisaragi Chiyo gave the Evil Spirit's long hair a sharp tug.
"Then, sir, do you need me to compensate you with my body?" Hara Kenji winked suggestively at Kisaragi Chiyo.
"Is this supposed to be compensation? Or a reward?" Kisaragi Chiyo tapped her finger against Hara's chest, accusing him of his ulterior motives.
"Whatever you say, it's all up to you, sir." Hara Kenji grabbed Kisaragi Chiyo's hand—the very one that had been stripped of its glove by Hara.
Soft lips pressed against his palm, then Kisaragi Chiyo felt a slight, moist itchiness spreading across the skin of his palm.
After enduring it in the kitchen for a long time, Matsuda Jinpei finally couldn't help but speak up to stop the two people flirting on the sofa.
"I say.." Matsuda Jinpei held a spatula in one hand and a spoon in the other, staring at the pot on the stove as if facing a formidable enemy; the beef stew was bubbling and churning with thick, viscous foam.
I don't want to bother you guys, but Hagi, I think something went wrong even though I followed your steps.. it seems to be fermenting.
Literally speaking, for some reason, this pot of beef curry is like dough with too much yeast; it keeps expanding as it cooks, to the point where it's about to overflow from the pot.
To provide some context here, when the beef curry first began to ferment, Matsuda Jinpei had already scooped out the excess beef into a pot. The reason he is calling for help now is purely because there are no more empty vessels left, while the beef curry continues to ferment incessantly.
Matsuda Jinpei swore that he really hadn't added anything extra. As for how the fate of the curry beef stew had reached this stage, no matter what, Hara Kenji bore an undeniable responsibility for it.
So, hurry up.
Whoever it may be, please save this pot of beef stew.
-----------------------
Author's Note: Thanks to all the little angels for your support, muah 030
Chapter 113
After Matsuda Jinpei called for help, the number of people scrambling in a panic increased to three.
"Finally, some peace and quiet." Kisaragi Chiyo wiped the sweat from his forehead and leaned against the refrigerator in the kitchen. All around him, as far as his eyes could see, was a massive pile of beef curry.
Rather, he was so surrounded by the beef curry that the rising steam from the food was practically marinating him.
In a daze, everything around her made Kisaragi Chiyo feel as though she, too, was a piece of beef in the curry pot.
Matsuda Jinpei crouched listlessly in a corner of the kitchen, his arms wrapped around his knees, with traces of thick curry sauce smeared on his mouth and fingers from the recent commotion.
"What do you mean, 'what'.." Matsuda Jinpei looked at all the containers around him; they were all filled with beef curry. He made a rough estimate and realized that even if they ate curry for all three meals a day, it would be enough to last them for an entire month.
Even if he loved curry that much, he would never want to eat the same food for an entire month.
“I followed the recipe order exactly.." Matsuda Jinpei suddenly felt that not only was Hara Kenji responsible for this curry incident, but Morofushi Hiromitsu, who provided the recipe, also bore an undeniable share of the responsibility.
"But why did so much curry appear? This makes no sense!" Matsuda Jinpei was still losing his mind. He ran his hands through his curly hair, slamming his head against the wall repeatedly, trying to wake himself up from this curry nightmare.
"Little Jinpei, you'd better face reality soon." Hara Kenji paid no mind to the terrifying number of curries surrounding him; instead, he was observing the pot that had been cleaned, which had previously been used to stew beef curry.
This was a stewpot with a beautiful red exterior that looked antique and sturdy. It was bought from a second-hand market, along with some Western antique teacups.
Kisaragi Chiyo really liked one of them; it was a sterling silver cup with intricate engravings from France.
Kisaragi Chiyo really liked using it to brew coffee while writing, according to her, the coffee brewed in this beautiful cup felt as if she were drinking down inspiration itself.
Although Hara Kenji could not understand Kisaragi Chiyo's feelings after hearing them, he still chose to respect her preference, brewing a cup of coffee with that cup and bringing it to her before every work session.
"No matter how you look at it, it's just an ordinary pot." Hara Kenji stared at the pot for ten minutes before coming to this conclusion.
"After all, it's just a pot that can't speak." After resting for a while, Kisaragi Chiyo walked around the curry to stand beside Hara Kenji, grasping one side of the pot's handle with his hand and lifting it up.
"Can you see anything?" Hara Kenji watched Kisaragi Chiyo pick up the pot and turn it over in his hands, curiously rested his chin on Kisaragi Chiyo's shoulder.
Using this posture, the Evil Spirit lightly sniffed the scent emanating from the young man. In this kitchen, where the air was filled with the aroma of beef stew, Kisaragi Chiyo's rich fragrance seemed incredibly fresh and truly whetted his appetite.
Could he really not take a single bite to satisfy his craving right now?
Hara Kenji thought with regret that if he really took a bite right now, the heavy pan in Kisaragi Chiyo's hands would smash into his face the very next second.
So, for the sake of his handsome face, Hara Kenji endured it with great sorrow.
Kisaragi Chiyo glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, seeing his restless appearance and the way his mind was filled with impure thoughts, let out a silent, cold laugh.
But he said nothing, allowing the puppy, who was so greedy it was practically drooling, to bury its head in the crook of his neck as if trying to quench its thirst with mere memory. As the puppy's lips brushed against the sensitive skin of his neck, the resulting wave of itchiness caused Kisaragi Chiyo to shift his shoulders uncomfortably.
Having received the hint, the puppy quickly stopped its movements, though it nuzzled the young man's cheek with its head, seemingly reluctant to let go.
“Have you ever heard of the House of Lost Souls?” Kisaragi Chiyo set down the pot in his hands; what had just happened reminded him of a legend he had heard before.