Chương 79: A BL enthusiast

EPISODE 18: LOVE

 

In the dimly lit corridor of the expansive Japanese office building, two men find themselves entangled in a subtle dance of attraction.

Their rendezvous unfolds with an air of secrecy, shielded from prying eyes and the strict professionalism that permeates the workspace.

The hum of muted conversation and the faint click-clack of heels echo in the distance, creating a distant backdrop to their shared moment.

They stand in close proximity, their bodies angled towards each other, their voices hushed and filled with playful undertones.

The first man, dressed impeccably in a tailored white suit, exudes an air of sophistication. His long silver hair is neatly styled, and his fair features hold an alluring charm. His gaze is focused and intense, fixated on the second man, who reciprocates the attention with a bashful smile.

The second man, clad in a Chinese blue dress, possesses a more youthful aura. His black hair is slightly tousled, adding to his charismatic appeal. His eyes sparkle with mischief, mirroring the desire that dances between them.

They exchange knowing glances, their eyes locking in a momentary connection that speaks volumes of their shared attraction. The air around them crackles with a palpable tension, charged with the thrill of the forbidden.

“Sora Mizu… How come you were so far from me all this time?” the first man muses.

“You are such an idiot for liberating me, UMA. We are enemies…” the second man retorts.

As their words flow, their bodies subtly lean closer, their proximity breaching the boundaries of personal space. A hand brushes against an arm, a gentle touch meant to convey more than casual interest. The corridor acts as their hidden sanctuary, shielding them from prying eyes and the weight of societal expectations.

“Ahh, how I wish to feel your skin…” UMA whispers longingly.

Laughter erupts between them, their voices mingling in harmonious delight. The sound echoes softly through the corridor.

“Wait,” the Chinese man suddenly interrupts, pressing his hand against the other’s mouth as he attempts to embrace him. “Someone is watching.”

UMA, unperturbed by the interruption, chuckles softly, his laughter dripping with confidence. “Don’t worry, that’s just TSUKI. We can’t really escape from her sight,” he explains, his voice carrying a mixture of amusement and familiarity. “She’s a discreet girl and won’t say anything.”

Surprised and ashamed that my presence has been discovered, I emerge from my hiding spot, my face flushed with embarrassment. I quickly lower myself to the floor, bowing silently, acknowledging my transgression.

“Whoa!” the Chinese man exclaims, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “I didn’t expect someone like this… Why were you watching us?”

UMA, with a nonchalant smile, steps forward to offer an explanation. “It can’t be helped,” he begins, his voice carrying a trace of playfulness. “She’s kind of following me everywhere, you see. She likes it when I flirt with other men, for some reason.”

The Chinese man’s face contorts with a mix of disgust and fascination. “Voyeurism…” he mutters, unable to conceal his repulsion.

UMA, undeterred by the judgment, responds with a carefree shrug. “It’s not that bad once you get used to it…”

“Exhibitionism…” he mumbles in response.

“I apologize for my behaviour,” I pronounce, my face red with shame. “I thought I was fairly well hidden and didn’t expect you to notice me.”

“That’s not how it works. You’re not supposed to do that in the first place,” Sora Mizu’s eyes roll with a mixture of exasperation and scepticism. “How can I trust you now?” He points at UMA’s chest.

Desperate to salvage their fragile connection, UMA’s voice trembles with vulnerability. “I-is there no way you can forgive me...? TSUKI, can you leave us for a moment, please...? Alone, not hidden!”

Feeling a twinge of guilt, I slowly retrace my steps backward, my tiptoes barely making a sound. I plan to take as much time as I can, hoping to grasp as many details of the scene as possible before disappearing behind the door.

“Please, Sora Mizu...!” UMA’s voice cracks with heartfelt pleading, a plea for redemption.

Sora Mizu, his expression softening ever so slightly, gazes into UMA’s eyes. A mischievous smirk plays upon his lips as he considers the possibilities. “I guess there is a way,” he concedes, his tone dripping with intrigue.

UMA’s face inches closer to Sora Mizu’s, their breath mingling in the space between them. Eyes locked, they engage in a silent exchange of longing and desire, their unspoken connection intensifying. “Please, tell me how! I will do anything!”

“There is somewhere I want to go,” the Chinese man whispers, his voice barely audible. He throws a discreet glance towards me, a silent understanding passing between us. “But I can’t let anybody else hear it.”

With an awkward giggle, I finally open the door and disappear behind it. Unbeknownst to them, I cunningly leave the microphone inside, ensuring that I can continue to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“I can’t let you leave this place, though. My career depends on it,” UMA’s voice trembles with a touch of desperation. “Maybe we can find a compromise. Can’t someone you know go there for you? I can let you send a message.”

“No, that won’t work either,” Sora Mizu responds, his voice tinged with frustration. “Unless…” His voice trails off, his words swallowed by a whispered secret shared only between the two of them.

Disappointed, I sigh and head back to my boss’s office.

 

---

 

As I sprint my way out of this nightmare through the rain-soaked streets, my heart pounds in my chest like a drum.

The deafening alarm echoes in my ears, amplifying the terror that courses through my veins. It triggers a haunting memory, a terrible event that unfolded not so long ago, likely contributing to my current state of trauma.

Raindrops pelt my skin, mingling with the salty tears that stream down my face.

Desperation fuels my legs, propelling me forward, away from the impending chaos that threatens to consume me.

“Hey, you! What are you still doing here?!” a voice shouts from across the road.

Squinting my eyes, I strain to recognize the silhouette of a man running in my direction, clutching a black umbrella.

“You...?” I manage to utter, my voice barely audible over the cacophony of the alarm.

“Do you know me? Whatever, we can’t speak now. Come with me. We’ll find refuge there,” he says urgently, seizing my hand and pulling me towards the closest building.

Surprised and disoriented, I take in the absurd appearance of the man.

He wears an abnormally large hat and a comically exaggerated mustache, an unexpected sight in the midst of such turmoil.

I never anticipated crossing paths with this absurd-looking guy again.

 

---

 

As I sprint through the rain-soaked streets, my heart pounds in my chest like a drum.

The main street of Chinatown, once bustling with life, is now transformed into a harrowing graveyard of chaos and despair.

Thick plumes of smoke twist and coil, casting an eerie pall over the surrounding buildings.

Blood stains the colourful storefronts and cobblestone paths, creating a grotesque tapestry of violence and loss.

The vibrant hues of Chinatown’s charm are drowned in a sea of red, a stark contrast that tears my soul.

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The sweet scents of street food are replaced by the sickening smell of iron, mingling with the acrid smoke that fills the air.

Splintered shards of shattered glass litter the ground, reflecting the fragmented lives and shattered dreams of those caught in the chaos.

The once lively market stalls now lies in ruins, their vibrant wares buried beneath the debris of destruction.

Boginya… I hope you’re okay…

Wailing sirens pierce the air, a haunting symphony of grief and anguish.

Amidst the devastation, a familiarly distorted voice breaks through the cacophony.

“Uhhh… Is there still someone?” the voice queries nearby.

“Where?” Another responds.

Two figures clad in gas masks, Kevlar vests, and armed with rifles stand amidst the bloodbath. One of them points in my direction.

“There. Hey, miss, you’re not going to last long without a mask,” he warns.

“Not that a normal mask would do anyway,” they taunt, their laughter dripping with dark amusement.

Enraged by their callousness, I propel myself towards them, preparing to land a kick.

But one of them swiftly evades my attack, leaving me off balance.

I slip and curse as I fall to the ground.

As I close and open my eyes again, my sight becomes blurry, the world shifting before me.

The rain falls upon my face, warm against my cold sweat.

Confusion washes over me, and I struggle to comprehend what is happening.

However, it dawns on me too late. The realization hits me like a wave crashing upon the shore.

The words they exchange reach my ears, penetrating the haze of my consciousness.

“How long has this bitch been exposed to the agent? Shouldn’t she be dead already?”

“The rain is diluting it, so it’s not as concentrated on her.”

“Are you going to kill her? I’ll do it. I don’t like seeing people in pain.”

“You’re such a lady-killer.”

Their voices blur together, indistinguishable.

The urge to vomit rises within me, but I suppress it gripping onto the closest person’s leg in desperation.

“What the hell?! Let go of me, you bitch!” he yells.

“M-major…” I manage to pronounce, my voice trembling.

This simple word stuns them momentarily, pausing their actions.

Struggling to remain conscious, I continue with all the strength I can muster. “I’m the one the major wants to see… I’m the White Snake… It’s me… I’m the one he wants to kill… Bring me to him… And stop the poison…”

At least that way… Boginya will be safe…

Finally, I release my grip, my energy drained, and darkness envelops me as I lose consciousness.

 

---

 

Tension permeates the opulent, golden hall, thickening the air like an oppressive fog.

The crowd of people, their voices echoing off the ornate walls, engulfs the space in a swirling vortex of anger and desperation. Each individual clamour to be heard above the tumultuous din, their yells and accusations merging into a dissonant symphony of chaos.

Faces contort with a potent mix of anger and despair, their expressions etched with the weight of the crisis that has befallen them. Gesticulating arms punctuate the scene, the air crackling with the energy of frustration and desperation.

Within the once resplendent hall, the golden hues that once symbolized grandeur and prosperity now seem tarnished, their lustre eclipsed by the collective unrest that permeates the space.

As the volatile atmosphere reaches its crescendo, I emerge from the crowd, a figure of authority cutting through the chaos. My commanding presence demands a temporary hush, casting an expectant silence over the assembly.

Shaking my head, my earrings chime softly, their delicate sound echoing through the hall, commanding attention.

I address the gathering, my voice infused with determination and resolve. “Something terrible is unfolding before us. Our island has not faced such a dire crisis in a long time. This is no ordinary situation, and it cannot be resolved with a simple solution.”

A voice erupts from the crowd, eager to interrupt, but I cut it off swiftly, silencing any dissent. “There is no time for panic. We are stronger than that, are we not? This generation of Koteloppolo is not composed of weaklings. We have not convened here to debate, but to act.”

With a gesture, my trusted associates, Kote and a few other Tiban, press buttons on their phones, the resonating sound rippling through the hall. “The seal has been lifted,” I declare, my voice carrying a weight of authority. “You have been granted carte blanche.”

Commotion stirs among the crowd once again, but before I can retreat to my office, a familiar figure looms before me, casting a menacing shadow.

SIRONA, her tall silhouette oozing defiance, challenges me with her piercing gaze. “You’re such a fucking idiot, do you know that?” she hisses, her frustration palpable.

I shake my head, a mixture of exasperation and pity colouring my expression. “I did what you wanted, SIRONA. Do not speak to me until you have those bastards’ heads on a plate.”

She recoils, stung by my words. “Things wouldn’t have escalated to this point if you had trusted me in the first place,” she retorts, her voice seething with anger. “Why didn’t you have faith in me?”

I sigh, weary of this endless debate. “You’re such a brat, SIRONA. Trust is earned, not freely given. Others cannot place their faith in you because you hold no value for them.”

Defiance flashes in her eyes, but I dismiss her with a shake of my head, stepping towards the elevator.

As I do, Kote, standing beside me, recalls a crucial detail. “Speaking of Miss SIRONA’s team, I believe they left with the little Abhi.”

My heart skips a beat. “What?!”

I fix my gaze upon Kote, searching for any hint of deception. She seems certain, her shrug a testament to her words.

This is burdening me with more work than I need…

I hope SIRONA won’t do anything foolish.

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