I should have never stepped inside that place. My brain screamed at me, every logical neuron cursing my idiot self. Ten years in London, a brilliant mind—and yet, in less than ten minutes, I'd been played, humiliated, and nearly fried alive by… heat. Pure, infuriating, Kaoru Nishimi heat.
I hugged myself, shivering not just from rain, but from the memory. Hands trembling, knees wobbling, I muttered to no one in particular, pacing the wet street. "I… I survived… barely. Straight! Brain! Rational! Alien-born! Why is Tokyo like this?!"
The drizzle slicked my coat, plastered my hair to my forehead. Neon lights bounced off puddles like tiny, mocking reflections of my misfortune. I felt like a newborn human dropped into an incomprehensible alien world. Every blur, every passerby, felt like a predator observing my ineptitude.
And then—a car. Ordinary, mundane, perfect. Lights cutting through the mist like a lifeline. Relief surged so sharply I almost howled. My legs obeyed before my brain did, suitcase bouncing like a drum behind me, heart hammering like a war drum, lungs burning for air.
Inside… it was him. Hiroshi. My brother. Alive. Human. Perfectly normal in a way I almost couldn't comprehend after the night's chaos. He carried shopping bags, probably just returning from the mall, and paused, eyes widening at the sight of me—a drenched, panicked mess.
"God… heard me this time!!" I squeaked, voice cracking, a mix of laughter, panic, and tears. "My brother! I missed you! Save me! Take me away from here! Or I'll—" Words dissolved into incoherent gasps. I could feel tears running down my face, smudging rainwater into my cheeks.
Hiroshi blinked. Once. Twice. Then he tried—and failed—to suppress a full-bodied laugh. "Hiroshima… what happened to you?"
"I—I was walking! I asked for a hotel! Rain! Phone dead! And then… I ended up in a place… and there was a man, younger, hotter than anyone should exist, and—and—he touched me! I'm straight! My brain! Rational! But the candles—oh God, the candles—they moved like predators! I thought I'd die! Or… transformed into some alien species born today!"
Hiroshi's brow shot up. Then down. Then a grin spread across his face. "Wait… you actually went inside a… pleasure house?"
"I didn't know! Pavilion Eight! It looked normal! I—" I groaned, dropping my head into my hands, shivering like a wet cat on fire. "And the way he… he moved… my body—my brain—oh, it's like they were conspiring together! My rational brain left the building before I even knew it!"
Hiroshi laughed, shaking his head. "Conspiring with your body, huh? Honestly, Hiroshima… only you could wander into chaos like that and come out… alive."
"Exactly! Alien-born today! Brains fried! Hands useless! Chest on fire! All in the name of… survival? And oh God—the smell of cologne! And the candles—they plotted against me!" My words tumbled out, incoherent, desperate, embarrassed.
"C'mon, idiot," Hiroshi said, sliding the car door open. "Get in. You're soaked, shivering, and look like a disaster that somehow survived the apocalypse of heat and temptation. At least in the car, no one will audition you again tonight."
I stumbled inside, suitcase clattering off the floor, arms wrapped around myself. My chest heaved. "God, Hiroshi… I almost… I can't… that man—he's… he's—ugh, everything! Too hot!"
Hiroshi laughed softly, ruffling my rain-matted hair. "Shh… calm down. You survived. And yes, that was probably the hottest thing that could have happened tonight. And no, I'm not judging you. Much."
"I—my brain—burned! My hands—my chest—my dignity—oh God—" I buried my face in my hands, trembling. "I… I survived only because of sheer luck, and… and maybe my alien instincts kicked in! Rational thought failed! Total short-circuit!"
He smiled, pulling the seatbelt over my shoulder. "Relax. You're alive. Virginity intact. Dignity… mostly intact. And if anyone asks, I'll tell them you were attacked by a rainstorm and ten years of bad judgment."
I peeked at him through my fingers, small laugh escaping, half-crying. "Hiroshi… I feel like an alien. Born today. Thrown into a strange world. Survived only because you exist. And my body… my chest… I—oh, I'm going to have a fever!"
"You'll survive," he said, starting the engine. "But maybe next time, just stay outside. Rain, neon signs… not every hotel in Tokyo is what it seems. Some are… special. And some… will almost make your brain explode while flattering your eyes and body in ways no rational human can handle."
I let out a shaky laugh-cry, hands still clutching my chest. "God… I almost got fried! Or kissed! Or… something worse! Why is the world like this?"
Hiroshi glanced at me, driving through puddle-strewn streets, amusement in his expression. "Because you're lucky. Lucky I found you in this… state. Wet, shivering, muttering like a newborn alien who just learned human anatomy exists. You're ridiculous. And hilarious."
We arrived home, and I stumbled inside like a lost, drenched child. Hiroshi led me to the living room, fussing, guiding me to a sofa while taking my suitcase. "Sit. Warm up. Drink something hot. And stop babbling about the alien apocalypse for one second."
I clung to him anyway, muttering about shadows, candles, heat, and Kaoru Nishimi like a cautionary tale. He sat beside me, arm around my shoulder, smirking. "It's okay. You're alive. Safe. Still my annoying little brother. Fever or no fever, you're still mine to fuss over."
Somewhere between trembling, shivering, and laughing-crying because of the short circuits my mind suffered, I realized: I survived chaos, embarrassment, panic, and… maybe desire. And somehow, I'd finally found safety. My brother, my anchor, had caught me before I completely fell apart.
And yet, deep down, I knew the night wasn't over—not in memory, and certainly not in curiosity.