❤︎ 2288 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜, 9 𝚖𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎

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For the rest of the week, my brain was absent–it was as if I traded mine for an alien's. The theatre company is in prep for a new season and as such, I am writing a new play for them.

Today, after a meeting at the theatre, I went to a cafe with Director Wes and Producer Sunny. The cafe is one of my favourite places. It's a quaint little spot where I come by almost every week.

It's been a while since I last caught up with Wes and Sunny. It's scarcely been a week since... but my world has been caught in a typhoon.

"So, about your script this time, y/n," Sunny said as soon as we sat down. "I think the idea is absolutely fantastic, very imagestic! Don't you think so, Wes? What a student you have here."

"I agree with them, y/n. It's almost as if you've experienced the story itself," Wes quipped. "I always wanted to ask, though, where do your inspirations come from?"

"Haha, Wes, nah... see, I don't like writing stories based on my own life. It's too troublesome, and besides, you never know who might read into the works too much and glean my life stories from my works, right? I don't want to get harassed or doxxed or anything. I've heard someone say that, 'you can only cook with what's in your fridge,' you know? And so I read a lot and I watch a lot of movies, listen to a lot of music, just straight up surround myself with art all the time. And in that way, I have lots of things to cook from without dredging up my own dirt," I blabber.

I blabber when I lie. This melodramatic play is most certainly based on my own life. The main character is a sad teenager who turns into a non-human creature. Oh, and they also have a domineering mother and then a dead lover.

I look out the window. Looks like it's going to rain later. A woman is dragging along a chihuahua.

"Two: In public, as well as in private, the pet is to address the master in a proper manner, either as 'Master Geto' or 'Master'.

That day, a week ago, after our game, Geto... no, Master Geto went through the contract with me.

"Three: the pet's conduct during private sessions is to be fully present, attentive, and responsive to the master's guidance. Any distraction or lack of focus will not be tolerated."

It's almost as if I were going back to school, I thought, as I bit the eraser off from my pencil.

"You were a good student, weren't you? I don't think you'd have any trouble following my rules. Read on."

It's as if he can read my mind.

"Four: loyalty. This clause stipulates that the pet will remain loyal to the master, above all else. This includes refraining from any romantic or sexual relations with others without the master's explicit permission. Any deviation from this will be met with severe consequences as nothing but complete devotion is expected from the pet," I read aloud. "What about masturbating, Master Geto?"

Sensing my sarcasm, Geto laughed lightly. "I would encourage you to channel your... desires into pleasing me, but, hmm... I suppose I could allow the occasional indulgence. Yet know this–your orgasms belong to me and you'll only find your pleasure when I allow it. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Master." These days, I am so frazzled that I don't even have much of a sex drive anymore.

"Five: the safe word. A safe word shall be chosen by the pet and will remain a failsafe for our sessions–a word that, when spoken, will immediately halt all our activities." I decided to choose my safe word the next time I saw him.

"Very well. Choose wisely, mind you. For it will be the only thing to spare you from my... discipline, y/n," Geto watched me indulgently. I used all my fibres, suppressing an urge to roll my eyes at the way he elongated his vowels.

"Six: aftercare procedures. It is the duty of the master to ensure the pet is properly cared for after each session. The master will hold, soothe, and provide the pet with whatever comforts she may need to reground herself." That's... oddly sweet of him.

"Seven: the master's duties towards the pet. The master is bound to protect, guide, and take care of the pet above all else. The master will push the pet to her limits, but never beyond what the master knows she can handle."

"Any questions before we sign?" Geto asks.

"Just what exactly are the consequences of defying these rules?"

"We needn't dwell on such unpleasant matters now, y/n. However, do remember that should you ever dare to defy me, you will face my... disciplinary measures." His fingers trailed down my limb, my hair raised. "I have many ways of ensuring your obedience–ways that will leave you trembling and begging for my forgiveness. And, trust me, you do not want to test the depths of my creativity.

He handed me a fountain pen. "Don't give me cause to punish you. For your own sake, be the perfect, obedient pet I know you can be, hmm? It's a demonstration of your respect and submission to me. Remember, your behaviour reflects not only on yourself but on me as well."

"I prefer to use my own pen, Master." I wave my half-chewed pencil.

Then, I signed away my self-respect.

"Think of this as a down payment, y/n. The rest will come to you every month as a reward for your being good." In exchange, Geto wagged a nice fat cheque at me. I brought it to Doctor Nims the very next day.

"My, my, it's gonna rain, isn't it?" Wes looks up at the sky which is presently thick with grey suds.

I shake my head a little, blanking out.

"I don't have an umbrella," Sunny added.

"I'll give you a ride home, then. Let's go now before the roads get all congested. You coming with us, y/n?" Wes looked at me.

"Nah, thanks. I don't live too far away and I'd wanna do some writing before going back," I smiled back. I want to be alone to inhale the rain.

"Don't overwork yourself. And, oh, we'll see you at the fundraising gala next month, yeah?" They stand up to leave.

"You bet, Director," I let out a sigh as they leave the shop. "You can come over now... Master."

"I was afraid you wouldn't ask," Geto chuckles. He's been sitting on the chair right behind me all this time. "Still have your Jujutsu senses, I see."

"It's not that hard, sir. I could smell you."

Geto moves to my table and sits across from me. "Sir, huh? I like that."

"All due respect but... how long have you been stalking me?" I frown. He's wearing a black sweatshirt with matching sweatpants today.

"You think I'd sink down to stalking?" He picks up my mug of coffee and takes a sip. "No, I just had you investigated. It's not that hard. I can smell your desperation from miles away."

"How long have I been investigated for?"

"Still drink black coffee even now? You're so predictable," he deflects.

"What are you here for, master? Do you require my presence at the temple today?"

"I want you to pack your stuff."

"... Pardon me?"

"Starting today, you'll be living with me at the temple."

I look out again–it's starting to drizzle.

Geto finishes my coffee and we head out together.

"Lead the way," he opens up his umbrella. It's black: how unoriginal.

"You already know where I live, sir."

He simply pats me on the top of my head and pulls me under his umbrella. We walk in silence, listening to the droplets pinballing down over our heads.

We stop in front of an old condo. I fish out my keys. "Uhm, would you like to wait in the lobby?"

"No," he closes the umbrella. "Invite me to go up with you."

The condo doesn't even have an elevator.

My studio apartment is an embarrassing disarray. My socks are limp on the floor, used dishes are spread out on my table, my bed is crowded with plushies, and my balcony is brimming with drying laundry. Drying laundry... shit!

I run towards my balcony to see all my clothes drenched in the relentless rain. I groan as I pull them into my blue Ikea bag. Crap. Another trip to the laundromat then.

I shuffle back in, soaked.

"Great place you have here, y/n," Geto brushes off droplets from his hair.

"Sorry for the mess... I'll start packing now."

"Shouldn't you dry yourself off first?"

"No, no, I'm fine."

"At least change your clothes or blow-dry your hair."

"I'm good, sir." 

Christ, what is he, my mom?

"No, you are not good. As your master, I am in charge of your well-being, remember?" He opens up my wardrobe to find a clean pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. "Men's clothes?"

"My dad's..."

Geto simply turns around to let me change. I put on the pants and the shirt. They have the insignia of Dad's favourite hockey team.

I look around at my unruly apartment: at the ashtrays jammed full of cigarette butts, remembering my near-empty fridge, and my ruptured wallpapers. I walk to the bathroom and pick up my blow dryer.

Unbeknownst to me, Geto followed me in. "Geto, sir?"

He takes the dryer from me and plugs it. "Sit down."

I sit on top of the toilet seat. This is the most intimate I have been with anyone since...

The monotonous hum of the dryer immediately fills the damp air. He starts gently tousling my wet, dark-brown hair. As the warm air huffs through my strands, I feel the pads of his fingers grazing on my scalp. I close my eyes.

"All done." Geto turns off the dryer.

I am suddenly acutely aware of my face being inches away from his chest. He keeps fondling my hair. The air grows tepid.

"Master...?"

"Yes?"

"I've thought of a safe word."

He pauses for a second and then tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. "And...?"

"Dust mite."

"Dust mite...?" He rests the dryer on the sink. "That's two words."

"Did you know that the smell of sunshine is a result of dust mites being massacred en masse?"

"Never heard of that before. Who told you that?"

"Shoko...

He leans on the tiled wall behind him.

"...and Gojo," I try to read him. "But...you know what? Turns out, they lied to me. I googled it the other day and that's not even a thing. The smell of sunshine is just UV rays interacting with certain chemicals and fibrous materials. Isn't that so anti-poetic?"

"Dust mites..." He mutters. Then, he pulls out the dryer's plug. "Time for you to pack. The car's coming to pick us up soon"

Geto coils the dryer's cord around its body when a loud knock on my door startles us both.

"Y/n! Open up! I know you're in there!" A shrill, raspy voice, accompanied by the incessant yapping of a lap dog.

"Fuck..." I hide my face in my palms. "Is it that time of the month already?"

"You owe me two month's worth of rent, y/n! One more and I throw everything on the street!"

"I'll go get it, sir..."

However, before I leave the bathroom, he's already opened the door. "Can I help you?"

"And who might you be?"

I can already picture Mrs. Fann's beady eyes sizing him up. Mrs. Fann's dog, Mac the pug runs in and catches me drooping over the sink.

"I would like to remind y/n that I have a no-guest policy in all my rental units. Is she not aware of that? Or is she as ridiculous as she is completely broke?" Mrs. Fann has an over-permed bob that must be bouncing up and down presently. "I will not tolerate any shenanigans or improper behaviour under my roof!"

"Hey Mac..." I pick up this wrinkly little potato.

"I can assure you, Mrs..."

"Fann. Mrs. Fann."

"Well, I can reassure you, Mrs. Fann, that y/n has not been conducting neither shenanigans nor improprieties..." There it is again, his diplomatic speaking voice. "... for I am her fiance."

Mrs. Fann drops silent. Mac licks all over my face. I can't help but smile–why can't we all be like Mac?

"Since we will soon be married, y/n will move in with me and, as such, I am here to help her pack up her belongings," Geto retorts. "As for her overdue rent–I do apologize for she has been so excited about our wedding that she has been somewhat negligent. Would you be so kind as to leave me your information so I could send you the rent as soon as possible?"

I rub Mac's chubby belly, listening to Mrs. Fann's high-pitched laughter. Something about my fiance being so handsome and if we are having kids soon... I let Mac run back to his owner before Geto closes the door.

"Thank you for making that up for me... Mr. Geto. I know my landlord would never let me off the hook if you didn't step in..." I start picking things up and dropping them into my duffle. "And thank you for the money, for my brother..."

"You don't take care of yourself, do you?"

I shrug and keep shovelling items into the bag.

Geto sighs and takes the bag from me. He rearranges everything and then folds my clothes neatly. I look down at myself: Mac's hair has gotten all over Dad's clothes. I try brushing them away but they cling on. I look back up at Geto organizing my belongings for me... It's almost as if I'm already his bride.

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Author's note!

a bigger chunk this time since the last one was so small...

btw real life mac the pug here:

take care & b safe

ikari din

jul 12, 2024