Yandere Rampage! (3)
Today really wasn't easy.
We only peeled ourselves apart after we reached the ninth floor—Riyeon's place—and the second we stepped through the front door we launched right back into another makeout session.
Honestly, if I could have avoided a hallway fusion, I would have. But from the moment she punched in the door-lock code, the raw hunger she was exhaling through her nose made it clear: yeah, we were doing this again. The second I shut the door she shoved me against it, her mouth surging up from below. There was no dodging those lips.
"Oppa—chu—does it feel good? Does it feel good for you too?"
I answered not with words but by pulling her neck and waist in tighter. I had no idea what her tongue was doing inside the press of our mouths; we simply burned through an unknown stretch of time in a feverish seal before I finally managed to peel free and get to the shower.
I filled the stall with thick steam from scalding water and soaked in the heat to my heart's content. I would have killed for a hot spring—hell, even a sauna—but on a weekday that was pure fantasy. Midnight was already bearing down. After a solid few dozen minutes of pure indulgence I stepped out.
Towel draped over my head, I found a sealed pack of underwear and a set of light sleep clothes waiting on the floor right outside the bathroom door. The consideration felt about two percent short, but when you're the one receiving, it's awkward to complain. I had no idea where to dump the plastic packaging either. And where the hell had my own clothes gone before I changed?
"Done washing?"
"Yeah. Where's the trash can?"
"Give it here. Your clothes are hanging on the rack over there."
"Thanks."
"Go lie on the bed and wait."
"Nah, the couch is fine."
"Lie on the bed and wait."
I have one hard rule in life: try denial and evasion only once. If it doesn't take, either submit quietly or gear up for combat. The other party was Riyeon, so of course I fell silent and accepted it.
"No barging in while I'm showering and jumping me. The next step is always kissing, and after that it's sex."
"You've got the whole schedule planned out, huh?"
"Obviously."
Then it would have been nice if she'd told me when the plan kicked off and when it ended. I was honestly worried I could keep up.
The Riyeon who'd just announced she was going to shower didn't actually step into the stall; she only poked her face through the crack of the door. I stared blankly for a second before my brain caught up and I hurried over to kiss her. Close call. Fresh out of the shower, I'd gone way too soft. Once her smiling silhouette vanished inside without a sound, I let out a long sigh, headed into her room, and flopped onto the bed.
Not too soft, just the right amount of firm. Perfect. A mattress that swallows you whole doesn't support the lower back and wrecks your spine. Take it from someone who's lived it.
"Hwaaaaah~."
A sigh escaped on its own.
"I hate working at a companyyyyy~."
I tried on the line every office worker keeps permanently on their lips. For me this was still the highest-earning path available, and somehow it was also the hardest. Heh. Whatever you turn into your profession ends up being the hardest thing. Even when I was bouncing through every part-time job under the sun, that particular job always felt like the worst. Anything I openly labeled "easy money" was always one-off and never lasted.
Yeah. Everything that has a beginning has an end. So what about Riyeon and me?
Our something that had only just started was already dense enough to put ordinary "something" to shame. For a guy carrying painful memories it was the perfect shape, but how long would it last? Having never managed to keep any relationship going long-term, I couldn't help wondering.
No middle- or high-school friends. No army buddies. No same-major college classmates. At every company I'd ever worked, the only contact was the handful of people who swapped pure job intel. That was it. Ha. Pretty bitter when you think about it. At every place I'd ever been employed I'd worked my ass off for the workers, too. Nobody ever came looking for me afterward. Justice that has outlived its usefulness is exactly like the plastic wrapper on a disposable product. Just like the vinyl bag that had packaged the clothes I was wearing right now—once you take out the contents, you toss it anywhere and never look back. And after that? You act like you never met it. Right? Nobody goes hunting for trash they already threw on the roadside.
If I ever ran into the people who discarded me, I wanted to ask them one thing: Was that content you scooped out of me even useful? Or at least tasty? Especially that bastard.
I heard he became a labor attorney. That's a lie. I don't have any acquaintances left who would tell me. I saw the pass-certificate photo on his chat profile. Not long after, the profile itself was set so I couldn't see it anymore. That's why I quit smoking. I never wanted to rot my insides again for some edgy middle-school reason like "for other people" or "for justice." And then, of course, I put on weight. Once the nicotine that used to spit out my greed was gone, there was no other outcome.
Something about me had changed, though. The kindly expression I'd forced as an HR guy—smiling no matter what—vanished without a trace once the weight settled in, replaced by cold eyes and a cold mouth. That was probably the exact point where Riyeon first felt revulsion. While I was still at the company, the only times I ever showed a human face were the weekly Monday rages and the overtime nights we both screamed through together. Wait. Don't tell me. Was that the moment Riyeon started liking me? The moment she caught that soft-hearted sucker who couldn't ignore even a stranger in trouble because he had too much damn empathy? I shook my head. Even if that were true, looking at how she acted now, she wasn't clinging because I was a sucker. She was a woman who didn't need money in the first place. If anyone was getting drained dry, it would be me draining her; there was nothing on her side to extract. Looking at it that way, maybe Riyeon was the actual sucker here. Amusing. A man who had been forced to cut everything excess out of himself, and a woman who had been starving forever, doing a "something." Peak pairing, right?
They say everything has its match. Maybe it was late, but I was almost ready to believe in destiny. That's a lie. If everything was already decided, what the hell was the point of all the effort I was putting in right now? I felt too sorry for the version of me who was suffering to believe in fate. Which is exactly why I kept fretting over and forecasting our ending.
"Mm…!"
I couldn't predict it at all! I couldn't even calculate myself; Riyeon was completely off the map. The obsession aimed at me, the desperate yearning, the rampage when she didn't get it—all of it outstripped imagination. I still didn't even understand why she liked me. Something had clearly hit her hard, but…
My body was exhausted, yet my brain alone was wide awake and working overtime. It vacuumed up whatever scraps of energy I had left, so I couldn't even pull the blanket over myself; I just sank into the mattress and my eyes slid shut. Big problem. If I fell asleep like this, the next time I opened them it would be morning. Ah—how long does it take to get to the office from Riyeon's place? Even one extra minute of sleep would be nice. Time moved too fast; it was a disaster. I still hadn't completely shaken the lure of nicotine and already half a year had blown past. Everyone knows how cruel you are for never waiting. Damn. I must really be tired. I'm spouting nonsense. My eyes were already closed. Breathing slowed. The bed was just soft enough. A body fresh from the shower gently coaxed my brain to sleep. Come on, you bastard. Mm…. Okay.
Scritch-scritch.
My upper body felt strangely cool. Cold air sank into bare skin with nothing covering it and raised goosebumps. The chill slammed into me like I was completely naked, so I tried to roll onto my side. Tried.
Clack.
Huh?
"…Huh?"
Both arms were raised above my head. What, had I fallen asleep doing a banzai? I tried to bring them down; something yanked back and they refused to move. I tried force, but whatever it was held me solidly.
"Nnngh!"
"Shhhh. Oppa, stay still."
When I tried to thrash my hips against the discomfort, a hot palm pressed firmly down on my solar plexus and stopped me. Riyeon.
Scritch-scritch.
"Riyeon, what are you doing?"
"……."
Scritch-scritch.
A different kind of coolness mixed into the sensation. The chill metal holds. My eyes snapped open. Riyeon, gaze unfocused, was cutting my sleep shirt open with a huge pair of scissors.
"Riyeon, what the hell are you doing!"
"Oppa, stay still."
Her voice was calm.
"What if you stab me with those scissors?"
"Why are you cutting perfectly good clothes?"
"I was being careful because I thought you'd wake up if I just stripped you. But you're already awake, so oh well."
She tossed the scissors aside without looking. Thunk. Not the sound of something tumbling—something embedding.
"The scissors just stuck into the floor…"
"Quiet."
Rrrrip. Riiiiip.
Without hesitation she grabbed the cut edges and tore the sleep shirt wide open.
"Riyeon, this is the third time I'm asking what you're doing."
I had some experience under my belt, so I managed to keep the panic out of my voice. Riyeon pressed her face to my fully exposed stomach and drew in a long breath. Slowly, starting from the pubic bone up to the navel, from the navel to the solar plexus, from the solar plexus all the way to my throat, she set her lips down and lifted them again, climbing my body.
"Huuuum."
Inhaling my scent far more than necessary, her lips rode over my throat and came to a stop right beside the corner of my mouth.
"Oppa."
She whispered against my lips. Every wrinkle of movement transferred clearly.
"While I was showering I thought about a lot of things."
Her voice still carried the relief of having me here plus the residual fever of unresolved leftover guilt; it announced its own verdict.
"In the end I don't think I can just let your first violation slide."
Lick.
She dragged her tongue across the corner of my mouth.
"No matter how much work you had, forgetting the kiss is just common-sense impossible."
She licked the entire length of my lips slowly, shifted to the other side, and planted a loud smacking kiss on the opposite corner.
"Why wasn't I the first?"
This time she lapped and explored every crevice of my mouth, then lingered thickly on the philtrum.
"Your priorities—no, your body itself—should move with me as number one, right?"
"That's…"
Smack-smack-smack.
She asked a question and then kissed me so I couldn't answer…?
"Your sincere apology was nice, but my wound is still bigger."
She licked up into the seam between our lips, then clenched her molars hard.
"The kiss part… honestly, after you apologized it loosened a lot, but… still…"
Her hand slipped inside my underwear. She kneaded the shaft and the sac for a moment, then growled low.
"Texting one-on-one with a woman, eating with her—why wasn't I first?"
Chuuup.
Disappointment and viciousness licked and sucked at my lips.
"You told me if I ever did fan-girl stuff over anime male characters I'd count as non-virgin… I believed in you, oppa."
Ah. This crazy bastard.
"So I decided to mark your entire body as mine."
This was pure karma.
"It might sting or tickle a little, but endure it. Got it?"
Before I could agree or refuse, Riyeon's teeth closed on my nipple.
Chuuuuuup—!
The vulgar noise of suction began to fill the room.