Gata-gata-gata
Sitting on the only train to and from Kurokawa's house, I looked outside its windows. Thanks to the height of the rail that held the sky train in midair, taking away the influence of the electrical lights on the ground, the beauty of the starry night was undisturbed. Faraway, above the clouds and buildings, above everything and everyone, were stars. Stunning, shining stars. Sparkling and twinkling, showing utmost radiance, they had a magnificent ball gleefully and an ebony curtain on top, decorated by patches of ash-gray clouds.
Of course, knowing the true nature of our existence, it was not difficult to understand that those stars were false imagery created by someone else beyond our world.
Even when those stars were real, the lights coming from them were merely an after-image of what had been, not what was at the present moment. By the time their radiance reached my retinas through the empty cosmos, an indeterminable period had gone by. In a way, they were forever out of my reach.
Yet, in this world, where my hands could touch and feel, where I could grab onto, someone possessed the same kind of warmth as those distanced stars.
Similarly, as I continued to view the past lights through my present eyes, an eternity had passed by the time his image reached my retinas.
Gata-gata-gata
Like an autonomous metallic snake that would never know the meaning of fatigue, the sky train pushed forward without stopping. Because of that, its monotonous, repetitive sound was all over the inside of our carriage, bringing me a sense of unfamiliar nostalgia. Listening to the unending rhythm, I saw no change in the noise this sky train made. Even the inaudible murmurs of the shadow people who inhabited the interior were similar to my past. However, saying that there was no change to this game was incorrect.
Words could hardly describe the inexplicable feeling the place brought to me. My closest effort at explaining the difference with my timeline would be its colors. Somehow, familiar shades and hues were brighter and more...alive. As the view through the train's window changed rapidly, each area seemed more realistic. Even when I observed the scenery through glass, what my eyes saw was nothing like what I knew. It was as though the me back then was actually who was the fish looking through its glass bowl, not the current one.
At the very least, there was no change to how this thing moved. Where it would turn, it did. Where it would go straight, it did, too. But as the sky train shifted and turned at various angles, pulling it to one side and another, I swayed accordingly. Funnily enough, while not causing any discomfort, the sky train reminded me of the feeling of being drawn into his chest by his gentle arms. The only difference was that no warmth was next to me. He was far away.
So...very...far.
"How I long for his embrace..." Drowning in remembrances of my savior, I mumbled. Yet it did not last long as his images were quickly dirtied by the presence of others. I could not enjoy his wonderful scent, yet it was already defiled by their stench. "Those bitches... Claiming him for themselves just because they came first!" I growled, clenching the knife that I got from the school in one hand.
Unable to appreciate the sight of the starry night any longer, my eyes looked down at the floor, where a woman was found gagged and tied up.
That person was none other than Kurokawa's mother, my target for today.
"How are you hanging, lady? Just tell me what you need so that I can reject it." Kicking her leg lightly, I smirked.
"..."
Kurokawa's mother did not reply to my question. She only stared at me with eyes full of contempt and disdain, seemingly trying to carve my face into her memories. Since she gave birth to Kurokawa, it felt like seeing a grown-up version of the bookworm staring me down. A bit weird, for sure, but I welcomed that kind of emotion, especially when it came from a Kurokawa-look-a-like.
"Water? Food? Or do you need to go to the bathroom? Don't worry! Feel free to release it at any time! We'll move to another carriage, though. I will not clean you up since that would get my hands dirty."
Again, she said nothing to me. Her fiery eyes were definitely getting more aggressive, though. I had no doubt she would eat me alive with those eyes if she could, with her daughter, even.
Laying on the floor silently, Kuro's mom wore a black silk dress that fit her voluptuous body. Although the edge of her dress had been torn a little due to our previous... encounter, it still complemented her figure profoundly.
The dress was designed to review most of her neck, clavicle, and cleavage, obviously created for an easy top-down view. From a technical standpoint, her bosoms were virtually overflowing from the top half of her dress.
"Tch." Turning my vision down to my feet, it was apparent that they were unobstructed by any meaty molds. While others had their...weights grown out from their body, I did not have that kind of misfortune.
"If only I was a bit larger... No! That's not it! They just needed to be massaged! I can still grow! Definitely!" Words without confidence were coming out.
Frowning while seeing Kuro's mother's breasts, I could imagine a cheaply made lucky event in which the protagonist found himself somehow staring at Eden's fruits hanging down from her chest and gulping his saliva like a starved beast. That said, just like the rest of the cast of this wish-fulfilling storyline, Kurokawa's mom was gorgeous. That much was undeniable, no matter how much I wanted to deny it. Each and every part of her facial features possessed a hidden sensation of maturity like a ripened forbidden fruit, eager to be eaten.
It might have been hard to see since she was not in a good mood or wanting to flirt with me, but the woman on the train's floor had what all of us did not: womanhood. Between a woman who had given birth and others was a wall. An impenetrable wall called MILF.
Her hair, albeit shorter than her daughter's, was like waves of the midnight ocean. Rather than making her look frail, that kind of hairdo created an illusion that she was younger than she looked. It was fresh and inviting, a candy to the eye. While Kurokawa's hair remained long and well-kept like a black river, granting her a traditional beauty, her mother's was more modern and energetic with hints of individuality, or up-to-date, for short.
Besides their hair, the only notable and prominent difference between Kurokawa and her mother was the color of their pupils. Unlike the bookworm, whose iris was emerald green, her mother's was dark chocolate with a seductive allure that matched her profession.
Honestly, putting the two of them side by side, without prior knowledge of their relationship, one could even say the bookworm and her mom were more like sisters.
Sensing the cold gazes from underneath, I could only shrug my shoulders. "You're kinda boring. Do you know that? Make a sound! Grunt! Scream? Anything! Honestly, I expected more from the Librarian's mother."
Once again, no reply came. Probably because that woman's panties were in her mouth.
Gata-gata-gata
"Ugh! What a boring woman! Fine! Don't say a word! Piss yourself! I don't give a damn!"
Regardless of Kuro's mother's stoicism, my plan was a success. A huge success at that, too. I knew I should be celebrating a successful attempt. And yet, I did not feel any sense of accomplishment from how that woman on the ground was acting. Since the abduction, her expression remained frozen as she was tied up, and she continued staring at me with those fierce eyes.
I really wanted to see her scream at least once. Still, except for that initial flinch when her finger went bye-bye, she did not react even once. If not for that, I would have thought of this woman as equal to those shadow people who would never understand pain or life in its entirety. Personally, I would definitely scream if the roles were reversed. Luckily, it did not. The one holding the knife was always me.
Now, if I was being honest, everything went easier than expected. From reaching Kurokawa's mother to chopping her finger off and putting it in front of Kurokawa's place, things proceeded smoothly beyond all of my previous expectations. Even when the detestable and wretched Rachel, may she rot in the deepest layer of Hell, was among the people there, the results were acceptable.
I knew my strength. Unlike the bookworm, whose main power came from inside the scarred forehead, letting the enemies destroy themselves by mere words, I was more of a person of action. Then again, I was not too stupid to jump in without weighing the possible consequences. Initially, I thought that the woman would put up a fight. In my mind at that time, various outcomes went through individually. I was worried about how the blood would get onto my clothes and how it would be a hassle to clean them. If she had fought back, how would I subdue her? Did I have enough detergent to clean my favorite hoodie if it was splashed with her blood? However, none got even close to the reality.
Except for the blood on my hands, which I quickly wiped clean using Kurokawa's mother's dress, I was relatively clean!
(GASP! It's a Chrismas miracle!)