Twisted Devotion by M.K. Jade

Author:M.K. Jade [Jade, M.K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-05-07T00:00:00+00:00

As if Kaoru Sano in his usual black yukata and messy bun wasn’t bad enough for Haruki’s breathing.

Kaoru Sano in his black yukata under a golden-colored sash-like garment, zori sandals, and his hair split perfectly half-up and half-down with that one loose piece over his right eye—it should be illegal. It quite literally endangers Haruki’s very life. Especially under the bright, colorful lights of the festival.

Seriously, the lanterns aren’t even set off yet—and won’t be for hours—and Kaoru’s face is already backlit as if by a million stars. The warm dark brown of his eyes is sparkling, the tan of his smooth skin is sparkling, the sleek waves of his black hair is sparkling, every goddamn thing about him is sparkling. Kaoru simply sparkles. It sounds ridiculous, even to Haruki who is thinking it, but it’s true. To him, no one has ever managed to shine quite like Kaoru Sano.

Which reminds him; back in high school, Haruki himself was practically hailed as royalty. With a rich, insanely successful family like his, people came to view him as a prodigy. Some went as far as to worship him like a god. It’s funny now, seeing how he’s ended up, but it was funny then, too. Because Haruki Satō is no god. He is but a mere human at the hands of Kaoru Sano. He can’t begin to understand how anyone saw the two of them together and named him the special one. Not when Kaoru has always been the better of them. He’s always been the well-mannered, well-spoken, well-suited one for praise. Kaoru Sano has been and always will be the light at the end of the tunnel for Haruki Satō. Fourteen, nineteen or one hundred years old, he is the star Haruki holds onto for hope.

And, well, it certainly doesn’t hurt that he’s built like a fucking greek god.

“Hi Kaoru,” Ayame says, bouncing on a pair of her own zori sandals. She hasn’t stopped moving since Haruki told her they’d be coming here tonight. She wants to try absolutely everything.

“Hello Ayame. Hello Megumi.” Kaoru smiles blindingly. Haruki holds onto Megumi’s shoulders like crutches to keep himself upright.

Megumi grunts, which is as good of an acknowledgement as anyone can get from him. He’s happy to be here, too, Haruki can tell, but he won’t show it. That kid guards himself the way Haruki thinks he does. He’s not sure whether to be proud or depressed about it.

“Ready?” Kaoru asks, motioning his arm towards the center of the festival. They’re standing together on the outskirts where Kaoru came to meet them, and even from afar it’s a lot to take in. “The others are already here.”

Ayame bounds forward in the direction Kaoru motioned to before Haruki can even open his mouth to answer. Megumi shakes himself out of Haruki’s grasp and chases after her, his little sandals smacking against the pavement as he goes. It’s loud, too; those sandals are a size or two too big for him. Hand-me-downs. Someday Haruki hopes to provide for them much more, much better, than that.

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