《That Time I Found My Neighbor's Voodoo Doll》 Chapter 1: A Walk in the Park Please don¡¯t see me, he repeated to himself over and over as he made his way through the park. This was a bolder move than he had ever made before, and definitely the most public. What are people going to say if they spot me? They¡¯ll think I¡¯m crazy, or a pervert. Which of those is worse? Probably a pervert. Crazy people get to live in comfortable asylums with cute nurses. People have sympathy for them. Not perverts. No, perverts who get caught out in public have to spend their nights in jail, with other perverts! God I hope nobody bothers me. ¡°Did you see that?¡± said one woman to another as Yumeji walked by them with false confidence, hoping to avoid detection by acting normal, an impossible task given the situation. The other woman turned around and caught a glimpse of him and his companion. She was cute, in her mid-twenties. Her hair was tied back and topped by a pair of sunglasses that weren¡¯t in use while she and her friend sat shaded beneath one of the many trees lining the park¡¯s cobblestone paths. Dammit, he thought, why¡¯d a girl like her have to see me like this? I just hope she doesn¡¯t go to my school. If this isn¡¯t social suicide then I don¡¯t know what would be. Don¡¯t get the wrong idea, from the beginning this whole experience was regrettable. He¡¯d found nothing but trouble ever since that stupid doll showed up in his life. None of it had done anything to make his life any better. But this experience, taking it out in public like this, took the cake. He¡¯d never felt so embarrassed in his life as he did right then, holding a doll¡¯s hand as he walked along. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°Mommy, why does that man have a doll¡­?¡± a little girl questioned her mother before having her hand pulled in the opposite direction. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter, let¡¯s not bother him,¡± the mother said as she tried her best to avoid having an uncomfortable conversation with her daughter about what a fetish is. Thank God, we¡¯re finally here, he thought to himself as they approached a small lake which served as the park¡¯s centerpiece. The sign in front of him said that the swan boat rides were 1,100 yen per person. He hoped that dolls would get in free as he retrieved his wallet from the front of his jeans. Either way, he was relieved to finally be here. The day was nearly over, and soon he¡¯d be back at his apartment, far from any prying eyes who might misunderstand his situation. He couldn¡¯t blame them for misunderstanding, though. He barely understood what was going on himself. But one thing that he did know was that Namiko had always wanted to ride in the swan boats, and if he couldn¡¯t take the real her here, then letting her experience it through this stupid voodoo doll was the least that he could do for her. Chapter 2: Unexpected Guest It was one of those days where you¡¯re tempted to remind yourself that at least it isn¡¯t raining but don¡¯t out of fear that karmic justice will cause an ironic downpour just to teach you a lesson. Yumeji didn¡¯t bring an umbrella with him today so he could hardly afford to take that risk. But he wanted to. Any sort of change would work for him, so long as it broke up the current trend of his day. This long, annoying day which seemed to never end. Why does a communications major have to take calculus anyways, he wondered as he plodded down the road. If you want to spend your life in a certain field then it just seems cruel to be forced to waste your time learning about something that you¡¯re never going to need to know. Then again, he thought, he wasn¡¯t exactly sure that he¡¯d want to spend the rest of his life in communications. It seemed like a versatile degree path so he chose it. It made life easier, being a comm major. When his parents asked him what his plans were, he could say he¡¯s looking at a field in communications. When he had to find friends at school he could always just mingle with his fellow comm students. It was easy to pick classes, just follow the communications degree path. Everything was nice and simple, but in reality Yumeji didn¡¯t have a clue what he wanted to do with his life. He was like a piece of driftwood floating along in the placid river known as college, going wherever the current took him. Soon he¡¯d be dumped out into the ocean that is adulthood, but there was no reason to look that far ahead as far as he was concerned. Life would work itself out. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Yumeji wasn¡¯t a spiritual person. He didn¡¯t much believe in superstitions, either. He didn¡¯t believe in ghosts or spirits or ghouls or Gods. He wasn¡¯t sure what he did believe, of course, but he was fairly certain that the supernatural belonged in manga and anime and had no place in the real world. He was about to be introduced to an alternate way of looking at the world, though, as he finally arrived back at his low-rent two story apartment building. He made his way up the exterior stairs, nearly tripping on the final step as he always did for some reason. His was the unit furthest from the stairway, unit 6 of 6. He unlocked the door and stepped inside. He tossed his backpack on the folding-chair-turned-table that he kept near the front door, removed his shoes, and sauntered over to the fridge to grab a soda. He downed it pretty quickly, a bad habit of his on exhausting days. That¡¯s when he noticed it for the first time, the thing that would change his life forever, sitting on his futon. ¡°Why¡¯s there a doll on my bed?¡± he asked nobody in particular as his brain struggled to catch up. Chapter 3: A Problem for Another Day ¡°Why¡¯s there a doll on my bed?¡± he asked nobody in particular as his brain struggled to catch up. Yumeji walked over to his futon and picked up the unexpected visitor. He didn¡¯t know much about dolls, almost nothing, really, besides that his little sister used to play with them when she was younger. But even he could tell that this thing was well made. It had a handcrafted look to it, more refined than the sort of thing that you could buy at a department store. The attention to detail was what impressed him the most. The natural way that its hair fell, the facial features, even the clothing seemed so realistic that he wondered if a set of normal clothes had been shot by a shrink ray and placed on this tiny frame. Yumeji was twenty-years-old at this point. He had had two girlfriends in his life, one in high school back in Niigata, and one briefly during his freshman year of college. Things with his first girlfriend never progressed beyond kissing and a little light groping, but he had had sex with his second girlfriend a couple of times. Needless to say, it wasn¡¯t like he was completely inexperienced with girls or anything. He wasn¡¯t sexually retarded. He wasn¡¯t a weirdo. He did, however, have an overwhelming urge to look under the doll¡¯s skirt. Just to see how accurate it is, he told himself. This is purely academic, a fact finding mission, he told himself. Even he wasn¡¯t buying it. This was immature, childlike curiosity plain and simple, and Yumeji was no more able to resist it than a grade schooler would be. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Surprisingly accurate, he thought as he finished inspecting the doll. But where did it come from? A moment of paranoia hit him like an assassin¡¯s bullet, he couldn¡¯t help but worry that someone had broken into his apartment while he was at school. What if they¡¯re still here, he wondered. After checking every room and possible point of entry, there weren¡¯t many in his studio apartment, he returned to his futon and sat down. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. No signs of forced entry, everything was just as he¡¯d left it, except for that weird doll. Could it have been something that his sister had left here after the last time that she came to visit him? Unlikely, he thought, as she hadn¡¯t been over in a while and he would have noticed it before now. Then he got a notification on Line. He checked his phone and saw that his friends were about to play some new shooter that they had all talked about earlier in class. He put the doll down and opened up his laptop. It was a problem for another day, he reasoned. Chapter 4: There She Was Using a laptop to play games is not necessarily what most people would consider to be a dangerous task, but most people don¡¯t play for 11 hours straight trying to unlock ranked play with their friends. Yumeji was one of those rare people who did. Sitting on the floor, hunched over his laptop for that long was hell on his back. Combined with the fact that he had barely managed to get any sleep afterwards meant that he was almost certainly in for a rough day at school. He shambled out of his apartment shortly after 8 in the morning. His hands grabbed onto the railing in front of him. He rested against it for a moment and let out a long sigh as he tried to gain some composure before starting the day. ¡°Long night?¡± asked a female voice. Startled, Yumeji reacted a bit too quickly as he turned to see who was talking to him. It was his neighbor, Namiko Toro, leaning against the railing in front of her unit. ¡°Sorry,¡± she continued as she chuckled quietly, ¡°didn¡¯t mean to spook you. I didn¡¯t know you were so jumpy.¡± ¡°No, no. You¡¯re fine,¡± he said emphatically as he turned to face her properly. This was only the third or fourth time that he had ever spoken with her in the year or so that they had been neighbors. He wasn¡¯t sure why he hadn¡¯t ever tried to get to know her better, she seemed like a friendly sort of person. Plus she was beautiful. She had mesmerizing, emerald green eyes which contrasted nicely with her smooth pale skin. Her light brown hair curled ever so slightly just beneath her chin, framing her face like some renaissance painting. She was on the taller side for a girl, but still a good amount shorter than Yumeji. Today she was wearing a white blouse with a black collar topped by some sort of white embroidered lace pattern, tied together with a black bow over her chest. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. After they exchanged pleasantries she wished him luck at school and then turned to leave. She waved to him as she made her way down the stairs before turning down the street. Soon enough she disappeared behind some buildings and Yomeji was once again alone, leaning against the railing. Suddenly, seemingly from nowhere, he began to feel incredibly lonely. There was something about Namiko that made you wish that she¡¯d never have to leave, and the certainty that she would was too much to bear. They both went to T¨­hikawa University, apparently they both had classes around this time. He should have asked her if she wanted to walk together, but for some reason he didn¡¯t. Maybe he was afraid of getting that feeling again, that dreadful feeling of knowing that his time with her was fleeting. Maybe he just couldn¡¯t work up the nerve. Either way, he took the stairs down and started walking to school. Alone. He hadn¡¯t had breakfast yet, so he planned on stopping at a convenience store along the way. Chapter 5: The Sickness Unto Death Why does a communications major have to take a philosophy class anyways, he wondered as he meandered down the hall. After spending the last hour listening to Professor Fuyutsuki drone on and on about The Sickness unto Death, Yumeji¡¯s ability to stay awake was beginning to be seriously tested. He was going on less than two hours of sleep and was starting to have a hard time keeping upright. He found a nice looking couch in one of the common areas and took a seat. He grabbed a textbook from his bag and propped it up to look like he was studying, lowered his hat to hide his eyes, and tried to take a nap. His next class wasn¡¯t for another hour, so now seemed like a good opportunity to recharge his batteries. He closed his eyes and soon drifted into a quiet, surprisingly deep, sleep. He made his way up the exterior stairs, nearly tripping on the final step as he always did for some reason. His was the unit furthest from the stairway, unit 6 of 6. He unlocked the door and stepped inside. He tossed his backpack on the folding-chair-turned-table that he kept near the front door, removed his shoes, and sauntered over to the fridge to grab a soda. He downed it pretty quickly, a bad habit of his on exhausting days. That¡¯s when he noticed it for the first time, Namiko Toro was sitting on his futon. It almost didn¡¯t seem real, which made sense because it wasn¡¯t. He had no idea why she would be in his apartment, he hardly knew her, but there she was, and for some reason it made him feel good. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Does this look like the library?¡± an angry voice asked shortly after the body from which it emanated kicked Yumeji in the shin with all its might. ¡°Ow! What the hell?¡± he responded, a little too loudly for a public place. ¡°You were supposed to meet me in the library at 10:40. You¡¯re the one who asked me,¡± she said from beneath her dark bangs, emphasizing whose idea it was, ¡°for help understanding Kierkegaard, and then you bailed on me.¡± Komi was pissed off, understandably so. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I fell asleep. I was up all night last night. But that¡¯s no reason to give me internal bleeding.¡± ¡°Up all night, huh? Studying, I¡¯m sure,¡± Komi replied sarcastically as she turned in the direction of the library. ¡°Are you coming or not? You¡¯re lucky I¡¯m still willing to try to help a lost cause like you.¡± ¡°Gee thanks,¡± Yumeji said as he gathered his things and got to his feet. There were still fifty-five minutes left until his next class started, but for some reason he felt completely rejuvenated. What a strange, lovely dream, he thought. Chapter 6: Communicating with Komi ¡°Basically, whether we know it or not, we¡¯re all miserable, but we have a responsibility to change so that we can become the best versions of ourselves,¡± Komi explained while Yumeji rested his chin on his palm, half paying attention. ¡°While Kierkegaard¡¯s solution to escaping our misery relied on his own religious views, his work has since been reframed through a secular lens to assert that salvation can only come from within, rather than from some divine inspiration.¡± ¡°I guess that makes sense,¡± he muttered as he used his non load-bearing hand to flip through the book in front of him. ¡°Don¡¯t just assume that I¡¯m going to jump to your rescue right before exams when you realize that you have no idea what you¡¯re doing,¡± said Komi as she pushed her glasses back into their proper place nestled just beneath the bridge of her nose, ¡°I¡¯m finally starting to lose interest in babying one of my senpai¡¯s, let alone one that has less investment in his own academic success than I do. It¡¯s none of my concern if you flunk out.¡± Yumeji and Komi had met each other when he was in his second year at T¨­hidai and she was an incoming freshman. He was walking down the hall one day early in the semester when he spotted her wandering around aimlessly, occasionally checking doors to see which class was being held inside. Typical first-year behavior, he thought to himself. Something about her adorable round, bespectacled, face and the semi-panicked expression on it inspired him to pretend to be nobler and more sociable than he actually was. He helped her find her class on that day, and after helping her do so several more times in the following weeks the two became friends. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Yumeji said as he sat back in his chair, ¡°I probably should pay more attention to my studies. I¡¯m just a little distracted right now, is all.¡± ¡°Distracted by what?¡± ¡°Nothing in particular,¡± he responded, too embarrassed to tell her the truth that he was fixated on the awkward encounter that he had with his neighbor earlier that morning. ¡°You¡¯re distracted¡­ by nothing,¡± Komi replied dryly. ¡°Is your apartment haunted or something? Seeing things that aren¡¯t there?¡± ¡°Very funny,¡± he said as he faked a laugh, ¡°but no, it¡¯s nothing like that. I¡¯m just lost in my thoughts, I guess.¡± ¡°Your thoughts about nothing?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± ¡°Are all men this stupid or is it just you?¡± Chapter 7: Like a Song You Cant Forget Aw man, Yumeji thought to himself as he desperately scrounged through his refrigerator looking for something edible. I can¡¯t be out of food already, can I? It shouldn¡¯t have been so surprising to him, given that he hadn¡¯t gone out for groceries in a couple of weeks. Oh well, he thought as he grabbed the last soda in his fridge and sat down at his little kitchen table. He could always go shopping tomorrow. Maybe he¡¯d order takeout tonight, or maybe he¡¯d just enjoy his soda and tough it out until he grabbed something to eat at a convenience store in the morning. He put his soda down on the table after a few sips and began to get lost in his thoughts. A few things drifted through his mind. He thought about school, about all of the work that he was currently putting off which had to get done eventually, about his teachers and which ones would go easy on him and which ones would give him a hard time. He thought about Komi and how nice she always was to him, a few kicks aside, despite him not always being the most reliable friend himself. He thought about a song which had been stuck in his head since earlier during the day, but he couldn¡¯t quite remember the lyrics, let alone the name of it. But most of all he thought about his neighbor, Namiko Toro. He thought about how cute she had looked to him when they had bumped into each other earlier that morning. Something about her had stuck with him, but he couldn¡¯t put his finger on what exactly it was. Maybe it was her presence, he thought to himself, whatever that meant. It seemed too vague to put into words, at least into any good words, words with real meaning behind them. So far it was only a feeling, one which he didn¡¯t quite understand, but he was pretty sure that it was a good feeling. It wasn¡¯t love, he didn¡¯t think. That wouldn¡¯t really make any logical sense. He barely knew her. They had only spoken a handful of times, and never about anything personal. It¡¯s hard to fall in love with somebody when you don¡¯t even know the most basic things about them. What did her laugh sound like? What¡¯s she studying? Does she enjoy the same music as me? Music, he thought, I wonder if she¡¯d know the song that¡¯s stuck in my head. He had been in love before, at least he was pretty sure that he had. When he met Ina, his high school sweetheart, he was certain that he was in love with her. He loved everything about her, and delighted in learning more. They would talk at school, they¡¯d talk before class, they¡¯d talk on the walk back home, they¡¯d talk in voice chat for hours, speaking quietly from their bedrooms so as to avoid being overheard by their parents. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. He felt absolutely devastated when they eventually broke up, he didn¡¯t think that he would ever love again. He felt like all light had left his life. Then, a few months later, he met a new girl when he went to college, and he lost his virginity. Suddenly he didn¡¯t feel so bad about losing Ina anymore. Looking back, if those feelings which once burned so passionately in his heart could be so easily forgotten, was it really love at all? Maybe. Maybe not. Regardless, he knew that he did not feel the same way about Namiko as he once did about Ina. That he knew for sure. It was different. Whether it was different in a better or a worse way, he had no clue. But it was different. Was he so shallow that he had become preoccupied with a girl just because of her looks? He hoped not, but it wasn¡¯t beyond the realm of possibility. He was only twenty, afterall, and after almost two sexless years since his last breakup it was a distinct possibility that the feelings within him were emanating from an organ other than his heart. Namiko really did have knockout good looks. It wasn¡¯t strictly just her physical appearance, like her stats and specifications, either. Her personality and the way that she carried herself made her seem even cuter. Her coy smile, her posture, her perfume. Everything about her just felt¡­ perfect. He knew that she couldn¡¯t actually be perfect, obviously it was easy to idealize a woman that you hardly knew anything about. But in his eyes she was without flaws. He thought about the dream that he had had earlier while he was napping at school, the dream about Namiko. It was a strange dream, unlike any dream that he had ever had before, in that most of it was a straightforward memory of something that had really happened. He went home and found someone waiting for him on his futon, just like in real life. The only difference was that in his dream it was Namiko, when in reality it had been that weird doll that he found. Oh yeah, he thought as he turned towards the shelf next to his futon where he¡¯d temporarily stored his mysterious guest the night before. ¡°I kinda forgot all about you,¡± he said out loud as if the doll looking back at him could hear what he was saying. Chapter 8: The Towel ¡°I kinda forgot all about you,¡± Yumeji said out loud as if the doll looking back at him could hear what he was saying. He grabbed the doll and brought it over to the kitchen table. He took another sip from his soda as he analyzed the strange object before him. ¡°How the hell did you get in here, anyway?¡± he asked the doll. Unsurprisingly, he didn¡¯t receive an answer. Things don¡¯t tend to just appear somewhere for no reason. He wasn¡¯t an expert in all things scientific, but he was pretty sure that teleportation still hadn¡¯t been invented, yet. And even if there was such a thing as teleportation, someone would still have had to choose to teleport this strange little doll into his apartment, of all places, which didn¡¯t make any sense whatsoever. ¡°What the hell should even I do with you?¡± he mumbled to himself as held the doll in his hand and looked it over once more. For a moment he thought that it might be one of those spycams or listening devices that a friend may have snuck into his apartment as a prank, but that didn¡¯t seem likely. There was no zipper or compartment to be found anywhere on the doll¡¯s body where something could be hidden inside of it, plus he didn¡¯t feel anything as he ran his hands over it. It was just a simple, handcrafted, doll that appeared magically in his apartment. Thinking about it for too long made his head start to hurt. He couldn¡¯t ask anyone about it, they¡¯d think he was weird. And what advice could they even give him, anyway? Oh yeah, mystery dolls appear in people¡¯s apartments all the time, here¡¯s what you do about it. Extremely unlikely, he thought. He placed the doll back on the table, accidentally knocking his soda over in the process. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°Shit,¡± he exclaimed as he rushed over to the kitchen counter to grab a towel. He stopped the soda from spilling onto the floor, sopping it up around the table¡¯s edges as best as he could. The doll was soaked, so he carried it over to the sink and set it down to let it dry. It seemed a shame to spill on such a well made doll, he thought, but then again it wasn¡¯t even his. It¡¯s not like he cared about it or anything. He was much more concerned about his soda. It was his last one, and he barely got to drink half of it. He felt like dropping to his knees, he was so defeated. There were a lot of trials and tribulations which he could put up with facing in his daily life, but not the loss of his soda. Some people had coffee, some people had religion, and Yumeji had soda. That¡¯s what got him through his days. Almost without skipping a beat, he grabbed his wallet and keys and rushed over to the local convenience store to grab a replacement. A short while later he came walking back to his apartment with a few bags in hand. He needed to do a little shopping, anyway, so he picked up a few essentials while he was at the store. He found a new flavor of his favorite soda, some sort of weird cherry/peach blend called Wild Cheach, and was excited to crack it open as soon as he got back to his apartment. He wouldn¡¯t be thinking about soda for much longer, though, as he came walking up the stairs and saw something unbelievable. He wasn¡¯t sure if what he was seeing was real, or if he had been hit by a truck somewhere along the way back from the store and been isekai¡¯d. ¡°U-uhm¡­ hey, excuse me,¡± she said shyly as her face turned beet red, ¡°c-can you let me inside real quick?¡± There was no denying it now, his eyes weren¡¯t deceiving him. She was real, and she was talking to him. Standing there in front of him, knocking on his apartment door, was Namiko Toro, wearing nothing but a towel. Chapter 9: The Visit, Part 1 ¡°N-Namiko?¡± muttered Yumeji as he stood there with his jaw on the floor. This was a time to remain composed, a time to keep cool and act like it was no big deal to see your beautiful neighbor standing in front of you in nothing but a towel, a time to act like a good neighbor and not a total weirdo. He would have to summon up all of his courage and find the right words to say. Instead he just stood there, awkwardly trying to avoid looking at the woman standing in front of him. After what felt like ages, but was probably more like a few seconds, he noticed Namiko motioning towards his apartment door with her head. ¡°Oh, yeah, would you, uh, like to c-¡± ¡°Thank you very much,¡± she replied as she stood next to the door, patiently waiting for him to unlock it. She was so eager to get inside that Yumeji could hardly get by her to open the door. Standing so close to her, it took all of his strength to avoid taking a quick glance at her body from his perfect vantage point. ¡°So¡­ how can I, uh¡­ why are you-¡± Yumeji again muttered as the two of them stood in his apartment. This was only the second time that he had had a girl in this apartment, and the other one was his friend Komi, so it barely even counted. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry to intrude on you like this,¡± Namiko said as she avoided eye contact with Yumeji, obviously as embarrassed by the situation as he was, ¡°but I had a bit of an accident in my apartment.¡± ¡°Oh, are you alright?¡± asked Yumeji as he began looking her over for any obvious signs of injury. Her perfect, long legs seemed uninjured. The subtle curves around her hips and breasts seemed to be in good shape, too. He soon realized that this health check had a few benefits to it. ¡°Y-yes, I¡¯m fine,¡± she replied as she blushed slightly at the thought that Yumeji was concerned about her. ¡°I didn¡¯t get hurt or anything like that. It¡¯s just that something went wrong with my plumbing, I think.¡± Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. ¡°Your plumbing?¡± ¡°Yes, I think so. I was brushing my teeth when all of a sudden water started shooting out everywhere! It was freezing cold water, too.¡± Huh, that¡¯s weird, he thought to himself. It must have happened while he was running out to the store because he didn¡¯t remember hearing anything happening next door. ¡°It was coming out of the faucet and my showerhead and I didn¡¯t know what to do so I just shut the valve off just to get it to stop,¡± she quickly said as she gestured with one hand while the other held up her towel. ¡°So anyway, I was totally soaked and I didn¡¯t know what to do. Obviously I can¡¯t use my shower right now, so, I was kind of hoping¡­¡± Yumeji stood there for a moment waiting for her to finish her sentence before he realized he was supposed to jump in. ¡°Oh, you want to use my shower?¡± ¡°Yes, please. I¡¯d really appreciate it!¡± He grew a little bit disappointed as it became entirely clear that Namiko hadn¡¯t come over to see him willingly, but there was also a clear opportunity in front of him. This was a chance to show what a helpful and dependable guy he could be, and it cost him nothing to do. ¡°Sure, no problem! It¡¯s right over there, I guess it¡¯s probably the same spot that yours is in, I mean, I¡¯ve never been in any of the other units but they¡¯re probably all the same¡­¡± Namiko started to walk towards the bathroom but paused just short of it. She squirmed a little bit, like there was something she needed but didn¡¯t know how to ask for it. Yumeji looked at her for a moment, then realized what was wrong. ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t have any clothes!¡± he shouted, as if he was buzzing in to answer a question on a quiz show. He ran over to his dresser and found a clear pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. ¡°Here, you can borrow these.¡± ¡°Are you sure?¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s no problem! I just washed them, too.¡± ¡°Thank you, again,¡± she said with a shy smile as he took the clothes and headed into the bathroom. As the door shut behind her, Yumeji took a deep breath. What a weird night, he thought to himself. Chapter 10: The Visit, Part 2 What a weird night, Yumeji thought to himself as he heard the shower turn on beyond the bathroom wall. Right now, in his apartment, Namiko Toro was completely naked. Not only was she naked, but she was lathered up and soaking wet, too! It was an exciting thought, to say the least. Not now, idiot, he thought to himself as he slapped the side of his head. He would have the rest of his life to fantasize about this night, but right now he had to stay focused on impressing Namiko. Or, at the very least, not coming across like a weird pervert. Either would be a difficult task for a sex starved guy in their twenties in a position like the one young Yumeji found himself in, but he was determined to stay strong. What should he do when she finished showering? Should he ask her to stay? No, that would come across terribly, he thought. Should he offer to walk her home? What, the whole ten feet back to her apartment? That¡¯s even more weird than asking her to stay. ¡°Oh, I know!¡± he said out loud to himself, almost as if he was too proud of his idea to keep his thoughts inside of his head. He walked back to his door and picked up his bag of groceries. He placed it on his table and retrieved his ace in the hole, his perfect plan for dealing with Namiko when she returned from her shower; a can of Wild Cheach soda! He would offer her a refreshing soda to help her relax after what sounded like a rather stressful evening. It was a perfect plan. He stood there, a can of Wild Cheach in each hand, waiting for her to finish showering. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. It was the perfect plan, except for one thing. As he heard the shower turn off, he caught a glimpse of something from the corner of his eye. Sitting there in the sink, totally visible, was that weird doll. A wave of panic washed over him as he thought about the possibility of Namiko seeing it and thinking that it was his. If she hasn¡¯t already, there¡¯s nothing that¡¯ll convince her that I¡¯m a weirdo more than finding a creepy doll in my apartment! Not today, he thought as he rushed over to the sink and grabbed the doll. But what to do with it? In the silence he heard Namiko step out from the shower and onto the bathroom tile, he had to act quickly. He chucked the doll across the room and behind his futon. ¡°Wahhhhh!¡± he heard Namiko scream from the bathroom, followed by a loud thump and the sound of tearing fabric. Without thinking he barged into the bathroom to check on her. ¡°Hey, are you alright?!?¡± he yelled as the door flew open. In a second he turned completely red when he saw her there in front of him, rubbing her head in the bathtub, her legs in the air, completely naked save for a convenient narrow strip of what used to be his shower curtain. Chapter 11: The Visit, Part 3 Am I the luckiest guy on Earth or the unluckiest, Yumeji asked himself as he held his hand in front of his eyes. Namiko was in his bathtub, completely naked, it was a dream come true. The problem was, of course, that he couldn¡¯t look at her without seeming like a giant perv. It was like having the world¡¯s most delicious cake in your kitchen but not being allowed to taste it! ¡°I-I¡¯m okay! I must have just lost my balance!¡± ¡°Oh- okay! Yeah, I¡¯m glad. I heard you scream, so¡­¡± ¡°Y-you didn¡¯t see anything, right?¡± asked Namiko as she wrapped the shredded shower curtain around her. ¡°No! Not at all! There was¡­ steam! I couldn¡¯t see a thing,¡± Yumeji replied. He was lying his ass off, of course. He had gotten a pretty good, if brief, look at Namiko before he averted his gaze. But the lie was just plausible enough that it gave them both the option to pretend that nothing had happened. ¡°Good, I¡¯m glad,¡± she replied. Her face was red, more from embarrassment than from the hot water. Yumeji left the bathroom and gave Namiko a chance to get dressed. How stupid can I be, he asked himself as he covered his face with both hands. Barging in on her while she¡¯s taking a shower? What the hell was he thinking, he wondered. Yes, he thought, it did sound like something happened in there and he really was worried about her, but he should have knocked first or called out to her instead of rushing in like a moron. There¡¯s no way she¡¯ll ever talk to me again, he thought. I¡¯ll be lucky if she doesn¡¯t report me to our landlord. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Hey, about what just happened,¡± said Namiko as she opened the bathroom door. She was wearing his Chicago Cubs t-shirt tucked into a tied off pair of oversized gray sweats. It was a cute look. I bet she¡¯d borrow my clothes all the time if she was my girlfriend, he thought to himself. ¡°I know, my bad. I don¡¯t know what I was thinking when I-¡± ¡°I¡¯m so sorry!¡± Namiko pleaded as she clasped her hands and dropped to her knees in contrition. ¡°...huh?¡± uttered Yumeji, feeling completely confused. ¡°I tore your shower curtain! And I scared you, you thought something happened and came to help me. The way you were looking away, I could tell how embarrassing it was for you! After you¡¯ve been so kind to me tonight, inviting me in and letting me use your shower,¡± as she went on, Yumeji thought he must have swapped bodies with somebody else. How the hell is she the one apologizing to me, he wondered. ¡°Oh, no no no! It¡¯s really no big deal! I¡¯m the one who barged in on you, if anything, I should be the one-¡± ¡°Please forgive me! I don¡¯t know what happened, I just lost my balance all of a sudden and before I knew it I was on the ground! It was like I was just tumbling through the air or something- the point is, I¡¯m sorry!¡± ¡°W-well, uh, sure. All is forgiven,¡± he replied with a smile. Namiko returned the favor, flashing him a smile that made his heart melt like a chocolate bar on the surface of the sun. He stood by his door after saying goodbye, listening to the sound of her footsteps trailing off towards her apartment, followed by the sound of her door shutting behind her. He couldn¡¯t bring himself to move from that spot for a while. His head was spinning. What a weird night, he thought to himself.