Harem Sync: Divine Edition

Chapter 113: Baptism (11): False Pause

Kira’s room was organized in a way that wasn’t human, not because it was tidy, but because the items chosen to be there made sense in a way Haru couldn’t quite put into words.

Dried herbs on a shelf, fabrics folded by texture, not color. A small hunting knife next to an old rag doll.

Kira and her two worlds, coexisting in the same room without conflict.

"Who do you share it with?" Haru asked.

"I don’t have a partner yet," Kira said, preparing the water, testing the temperature with her wrist, testing it again. "I arrived late; the pairs had already formed."

"Does it bother you?"

"No," she said simply. "I sleep better alone. Beastskins are light sleepers."

"It’s ready." She turned. "Let’s go."

Haru stood still.

Kira looked at him with that expression of someone analyzing behavior they don’t understand.

"Are you embarrassed, Master?"

"I’m not..."

"Yes, you are." She tilted her head. "But I’ve seen you naked, remember? In the first week." She paused. "You slept on top of me in the wagon. I counted your hairs."

"You what..."

"Humans feel a lot of shame about their bodies." She said it like a scientific observation. "It’s interesting." She walked over to him. "But I respect you, Master."

She slipped the orange uniform off his shoulders, slowly, without intruding. She left it on the back of the chair.

"That’s all." She said. "You take off the rest."

Haru was left in shorts and got into the tub.

Kira washed him carefully, not shyly, not with any ulterior motive. With the same care someone gives to something that matters.

Shampoo in his hair, her fingers massaging his scalp slowly, and Haru closed his eyes without realizing it.

"The master has a lot of knots here," she said, moving down his shoulders.

"Tension."

"Since when?"

"Since forever, I think."

She didn’t answer, just kept going, her palms working his back with even pressure.

"How was the Baptism today?" she asked as she lathered him up.

"I don’t remember. Technically, it was my day off."

"Yesterday?"

Haru thought, the meeting, the veterans, the vomiting, the Chinese guy pointing.

"Complicated."

"More so than before?"

"Different," she said. "Before, I was the one being hunted. Now I’m something else."

"What is ’something else’?"

He was silent for a moment.

"I’m still figuring it out."

Kira considered that, the kind of beastskin silence that isn’t empty, but processing.

"The master seems different since he got here," she said. "Not bad. Just different."

"How is he different?"

"More... present." She chose her words carefully. "Before, it felt like a part of you was always somewhere else."

Haru didn’t answer.

"She’s not wrong... somehow I feel safe here, the last place I’d expect to feel safe."

...

He stepped out of the tub.

Kira was waiting with a towel; she wrapped it around his shoulders before he even had to ask, rubbing his hair with measured pressure.

"Do you cut hair?" he asked, still wearing the towel on his head.

"When I remember," Kira replied. "But let me trim it."

It wasn’t a haircut; it was a trim. Kira picked up the small scissors with the same seriousness as someone performing surgery, his tongue slightly sticking out, tilting his head with every snip to check.

Haru stayed still, staring at the mirror in her room, at the reflection of the two of them.

"Cutting hair is for my other waifu," he thought without much context, watching his own hair look better. "Lilithine."

"Master," Kira said, putting the scissors away.

"Hm."

"Lie down."

The ritual was simple.

Haru lay down, his back against Kira’s pillow, shirtless, pants off. Kira sat beside him, took his head, and cradled it in her lap.

She began to rub gently, her palm on his scalp, slow, steady movements.

Haru’s body relaxed, not all at once, but layer by layer, like tension being reminded that it could let go.

"Tell me," Kira said.

It wasn’t an order. It was an invitation.

Haru stared at the ceiling.

"There’s a... matter. About the Baptism. Someone is helping the newbies, leaking information about where the veterans are, when they attack," he said slowly. "I’ve been tasked with finding out who it is."

Haru paused, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts still somewhat scattered.

"By the way..." he said slowly, "...how have you guys been handling the Baptism?"

Kira kept running her fingers through his hair.

"Ours is different from yours."

"Different how?"

"We have a gathering," she said simply. "For fun. To congratulate the new girls at the boarding school, share experiences, get to know the new arrivals."

Haru was silent for a second. "Annoying... women."

"We’ve been hearing about yours through the walls," Kira added. "It sounds like a massacre."

"Yeah," Haru confirmed, smiling up at the ceiling.

Kira smiled, not mockingly, just because he found the situation amusing.

"But they’ve also been saying the upperclassmen are kind of messed up," he said. "The freshmen are helping each other out now. Giving each other advice."

Haru raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Point for you guys, I guess," Kira added.

"And you know what?" He paused. "This morning a rookie knocked on the door asking if overpasses were good hiding spots."

Kira kept rubbing.

"So a rookie came by today asking if overpasses were good places to hide from the seniors..."

He stopped talking, staring at the ceiling for a full three seconds.

"...I think I already know who’s leaking info," he said, standing up slowly.

Kira looked at him, her hand still in the air where his head had been.

"It was obvious," Haru said, not angrily, but with that expression of someone who’s finally figured out something that’s been on the tip of their tongue for days. "Damn. I have to confirm it tonight."

He picked up the shirt. The uniform. The mop leaning against the wall. He walked over to the window, opened it, looked down at the courtyard... then came back.

Kira looked at him, not understanding what he was doing.

Haru leaned in quickly, gently, naturally, and kissed her forehead.

"Thank you," he said. "You’re such a sweetheart..."

And he jumped.

The sound of his footsteps faded away.

Kira stood still.

Hands on her lap, then she slowly brought them up to her own face, fingers touching where he had touched her.

"A kiss on the forehead."

For humans, it was simple affection. Gratitude. Everyday tenderness.

For beastskins, it was something else.

For beastskins, the forehead was territory, the most intimate part of the body because it was where instinct resided, where the scent was strongest, where a creature’s soul was concentrated.

A kiss on the forehead meant, "You are mine" or "I am yours," sometimes both at the same time, with no clear distinction.

Kira sat on her own lap for a moment.

She felt heat rising up her neck.

She touched her own breasts, an involuntary gesture, a beastskin’s way of checking if her heart was beating too fast.

It was.

"...Haru Mizuki," she said softly.

"My master."

She stayed there, looking out the open window.

Wind drifting in slowly.

And his scent, detergent, wood, something nameless, still lingering on the pillow.

Night...

Haru watching the new recruits.

"Found him yet?" The Chinese man appeared silently at her side.

"Yes."

"Who is it?"

"I’ll go get him," Haru said.

The signal was given. The freshmen were released.

They scattered in all directions, organized chaos, screams, chains dragging, the familiar noise.

Haru was already running.

A senior watched him go ahead of everyone, without waiting for the terror to set in, without the calculated pause that the more experienced seniors used.

"Impulsive kid."

But Haru wasn’t chasing just any rookie.

He was following that one, the one heading down the east corridor, with the posture of someone running toward a specific place rather than away from one.

"He runs like he knows where he’s going."

The rookie turned a corner, saw Haru ten meters away, ignoring everything else and focused on him.

"Son of a bitch, he won’t get off my tail. Who is this guy?"

"Just focus on running," his partner complained.

"Shut up." He shoved his partner into a side corridor. "I’m your savior here. After this, you owe me everything."

"But this hallway is dark; the upperclassmen might..."

"That’s freshman thinking," he cut in. "That’s why they don’t stay in dark hallways. They stay in the light ones."

"What if it’s a trap to make us think that way?"

"It isn’t. The informant was clear: that’s exactly what the upperclassmen want us to think, so they do the opposite. Simple." He pulled the pair along. "Let’s go. You’ll understand when we get there."

When the pair looked back one last time, the hallway was empty.

"Where did he go?"

"Right. Left, left. Left again. Right at the end."

The freshman stopped in front of an unmarked door, old wood, no sign, no symbol.

He smiled and knocked three times. Pause. Twice.

The door opened.

A hooded figure, leather briefcase in hand, face completely covered.

"Code." A muffled voice.

"Shadow buys shadow." The rookie replied. "I need anti-Nelumbra. Two doses."

The figure crouched down, opened the briefcase, fingers rummaging through small vials.

"That’ll be fifteen coins each..."

The pair fell; they only heard the dull thud of a body hitting the stone floor.

"Huh?" The rookie turned.

Haru was there