Maki stood up from his bed and walked toward Nemuri. He then bent down, hugged her by the waist, pecked her nose, and said, "Then let me prepare you breakfast first."
Nemuri returned the peck, kissed Maki's lips, and said, "No need. We're going to be late. Just take a wash and change."
Maki replied, "Okay," and nodded his head.
Nemuri then left his room, swaying her wide hips, making her ass bounce as she walked.
Maki smirked at her teasing action and muttered, "I'll spank that thing soon, Nemu—"
Nemuri heard him. She looked back at him and smiled, acting like she didn't know anything.
Maki followed after her. He walked to the bathroom and took a warm shower. After showering, he used a towel to dry himself.
Then he came out of the bathroom not wearing anything. This had become his habit—a mannerism he couldn't change. When he was alone in the condo, he could do whatever he wanted. Thankfully, Nemuri was in her room, or she might have seen a person with three legs.
Maki walked back to his room and changed into casual wear: a black hoodie, black baggy pants loose enough to let him move freely, and black socks.
After changing, he went to the living room and sat on the sofa, waiting for Nemuri. Maki knew how leisurely women could be when preparing, so he relaxed. Then he muttered to himself, "Wait, I forgot my early coffee."
He stood up again, walked to the kitchen, and made himself a coffee—black coffee with three spoons of sugar. Back in his homeland, this was his wake-up call in the cold town. Nemuri didn't like black coffee; she preferred tea.
Planning to ask her if she wanted tea, he left his mug on the kitchen table, walked to her room, knocked, and said, "Hey Nemu, do you want some tea?"
Nemuri heard him and replied, "What, you're already finished?"
"Well, that's how men do their thing," Maki replied.
"Well then, please prepare some for me," Nemuri said.
"Okay," Maki replied.
After twenty minutes, Nemuri came out of her room wearing her gray suit like an office lady. She wore a white blouse underneath a gray tight-fit tuxedo that held her big boobs, along with a knee-length pencil skirt showing her curvaceous hips, slim waist, and clean white legs.
Maki stared at her and said, "Nemu, whatever you wear, you really look seductive."
Nemuri looked at him and checked his casual look. To her, he looked like a hooligan. With Maki's tall height and full black outfit, he looked like someone about to join a street fight.
"And look at you," she replied. "You look like you're about to start a brawl."
Maki looked down at his clothes and said, "What's wrong with this? I can move freely, and it's refreshing."
Nemuri shook her head. "Confirmed. Maki has no fashion sense."
Maki ignored her and handed her the tea. "Here, your favorite," he said.
They both sat in the kitchen for a while and finished their drinks.
Then they walked toward the condo entrance. Nemuri picked up her black heels from the shoe rack and wore them, while Maki slipped into his black Crocs. Maki pulled up his hoodie, covering his forehead, the shade hiding his eyes.
Nemuri and Maki's condo was located at the very top of the building. Nemuri disliked noise, so she specifically chose the VIP condo at the top floor—a floor she owned entirely. The condo was spacious, but for someone like Maki, it was just enough.
If Maki ever made a big move, the floor below would feel like an earthquake.
After years of not going outside the building, today he would finally go out.
Everything could be ordered within the condo. Maki didn't need much—if there was food, he could cook. Even his clothes were ordered by Nemuri. She asked for his size and preferences, which were simply plain dark colors and cozy styles. Maki wore whatever felt comfortable to him.
Nemuri never complained and let him choose.
But today was different. He was going to U.A. Academy to participate in an exam. It wasn't really hard for Maki; to him, it was just like preparing tools and going fishing.
Nemuri and Maki exited the condo. Maki locked the door, then double-checked it. Another habit—just like counting fish to see if one was missing.
They walked toward the VIP elevator reserved for top-floor access. Mostly deliveries used it, along with Nemuri when she went to U.A.
Nemuri pressed B1—basement one, the underground parking area.
After a while, they reached the parking lot. Maki followed behind Nemuri.
She stopped in front of a black car—the Porsche she had owned from the beginning.
Maki looked at the car and chuckled.
Nemuri heard him and asked, "What, remembered the thing that caught you?"
"Maybe," he replied.
Nemuri opened the driver-side door and got in. Maki opened the passenger door and sat beside her.
Maki looked around the car. Everything was the same as when she first brought him to the condo. Then he noticed a picture stuck on the dashboard—it was him at around ten or eleven years old, holding a spatula and wearing a white apron.
"Oh," he remembered. It was when he was cooking ratatouille. He smiled, thinking about how many years he had lived in this world.
Nemuri watched Maki quietly staring at the photo and said, "Are you ready? We're going now. Put your seatbelt on."
"Of course. It's not like I'm going to a job interview," he said sarcastically.
"Then let's go," she said.
And she started the car.
( ﾟ∀ﾟ)人(ﾟ∀ﾟ )
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The fuck I didn't notice this but my keyboard could to this shit.
( ￣ー￣)...
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(*￣∇￣)ノ....