Hoshiko Tsukishiro

The crisp afternoon air brushed against my cheeks as we walked towards Hoshiko's studio. The sidewalk was carrying a faint, lingering nip that was surprisingly pleasant.

It was that specific transitional time of year when the biting frost of winter was beginning to lose its grip, leaving a subtle, underlying warmth that made it feel as though spring were already stretching its limbs.

I always hated colorful seasons and the brightness of the sun, but this year, it felt special.

Walking beside Shin felt entirely different that day, for some reason.

My fingers were laced securely within his palm, with our hands tucked together inside the deep pocket of his heavy black sweater.

Every few steps, the rough wool of his sleeve would rub against mine, sending a comforting, quiet heat right through my arm.

No more nightmares, at least during those moments with him. My mind was calm, in harmony with the universe, almost.

But my legs? My legs were a completely different story.

With every step I took, a dull, aching heat flared through my thighs and lower back, a stubborn reminder of the intense morning session we had on his mattress.

My heels were dragging slightly against the pavement, and I couldn't help the small, dramatic sigh that escaped my lips.

"Next time," I murmured, leaning my shoulder heavily against his arm as we crossed a quiet residential intersection, "I’m letting you do absolutely all the work, ghost boy. My legs are officially dead."

Shin let out a low, clear chuckle that rumbled wonderfully through the heavy fabric of his sweater. His fingers tightened around mine inside his pocket, and a lazy, amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"I'll keep that in mind for the next time, boss," he whispered, his dark eyes crinkling with that deep, affectionate warmth that always made my heart do a dangerous flip. "Though I don't remember hearing any complaints from you less than an hour ago."

"Shut up, dumbhead," I grumbled, a fierce, sudden blush flaring up my neck as I pulled my face deep into the high collar of my hoodie so he wouldn't see the victory on my features. "Of course I didn't. The pain always arrives when you relax."

The journey toward the commercial district took us roughly thirty minutes, mostly because my eyes kept catching the glint of the small independent stalls and boutique shops that lined the narrower shopping avenues. The kind of stalls you only see on weekends.

These weren't the bright, sterile department stores the popular girls from school frequented; these were the dim, cramped little alcoves that sold heavy silver chains, polished obsidian rings, and gothic-style jewelry—my favorite.

Every time I spotted a display case filled with dark, ornate trinkets, my boots would instinctively stop.

The best thing was that Shin didn't complain once. He just stood quietly behind my shoulder, his chin occasionally resting near my hair, and his steady presence a warm shield against the bustling crowd of weekend shoppers.

At one particular wooden stall, my fingers brushed against a heavy, intricately carved silver earring: a long, dangling gothic cross that caught the gray light of the afternoon sun.

I picked it up, turning around within the circle of his arms, and held the cool metal directly against his left earlobe, tilting my head as I studied the effect.

"You know," I teased, my voice dropping into a malicious, playful purr as I looked up into his dark eyes, "this dangling cross would look absolutely divine on you. It gives you a dangerous, ruined look. Exactly my aesthetic."

Shin didn't flinch away from the cold silver. He just looked down at my face, a loose strand of his dark hair falling across his eyes, his expression calm and entirely unbothered.

"Who knows..." he murmured softly, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips. "If the boss says so, I suppose I don't have much of a choice. She's right."

"Correct answer," I replied, carefully placing the piece back onto the velvet tray before sliding my hand back into his pocket, my heart swelling with a fierce, possessive satisfaction.

Then, we eventually broke away from the main shopping avenue, turning down a series of labyrinthine alleys where the loud, chaotic roar of the city traffic began to fade into a distant hum. The air here was cooler, shadowed by the high brick walls of the older buildings, the stone pavement smelling faintly of rain and old concrete.

Most people would've mistaken the alley for an abandoned service road. But for me? That alley felt like home, because I knew that it was completely safe.

Then, at the far end of a quiet, secluded cul-de-sac, a small, brilliant flash of pink and blue light sliced through the gloom.

Hoshiko’s studio was tucked away perfectly, isolated from the prying eyes of the ordinary world.

Hanging just above a heavy, black-painted iron door was a sleek, custom neon sign that hummed quietly in the silence, its bright tubes forming the elegant cursive characters: Tsukishiro’s Art Sanctuary.

As we closed the distance to the threshold, I brought my boots to a sudden stop, and then turned my torso around, placing my hands against the front of Shin’s black heavy sweater, and looked straight into his eyes.

"Wait out here for just a moment, my ghost boy," I instructed quietly, my voice dropping into a serious register. "Let me go first to tell her that we've arrived. If she's in the middle of a delicate design layout, she will become particulary aggressive towards strangers who interrupted her spiritual moment."

After my words, Shin gave a calm, cooperative nod, his hands sliding into the pockets of his black cargo pants as he leaned his spine casually against the brick wall of the alley. "Okay, Akane. Take your time, I'll wait here."

I then offered him a final, small smile before reaching out to push the heavy iron door open.

A small electronic chime echoed through the interior as I stepped across the threshold, the heavy door clicking shut behind my heels, instantly locking out the cold afternoon wind.

The air inside the studio was thick with a familiar, comforting blend of scents: the sharp, sterile bite of rubbing alcohol, the rich, earthy undertone of black tattoo ink, and a faint hint of sweet incense burning near the counter.

Pink and blue neon tubes ran along the concrete walls, casting a moody, futuristic glow over rows of framed flash sheets, custom dragon designs, and heavy leather piercing chairs.

And sitting on the edge of a polished black leather table near the back of the room was nothing more than the (in)famous Hoshiko Tsukishiro.

Of course, she was still beautiful. 

Similar to me in our style. The only difference between us were our tattoos, our haircut and the color of our eyes.

Her hair was much shorter than mine, and instead of a snake on her side, there was a cyber-style big rose, and her right arm was full of different tattoos. Beautiful. Moreover, she had more piercing than me, including her nipples and tongue.

The moment her sharp, dark grey-blue eyes registered my silhouette under the neon glare, her face lit up with an explosive, brilliant energy.

She immediately threw her sketchpad onto a nearby counter and literally ran across the room, with her heavy boots clattering against the concrete floor before she threw her arms tightly around my neck.

"Finally! The baby lone wolf has officially returned to her den! Ahaha!" she chirped happily, her voice carrying that low, gravelly rasp that I had known for years.

Then, she pulled away slightly, keeping her hands resting firmly on my shoulders as she scanned my face with an intense, playful curiosity.

"So? To what specific pleasure do I owe this surprise visit, Akane? Are we gonna get a new silver piercing today? Another hidden tattoo? You know, I just finalized a few cyber-goth rose designs that would look absolutely divine on your skin—"

"I'm not alone today, Hoshiko," I cut in smoothly, a small, knowing grin curving my lips as I gently interrupted her rapid-fire script. "So I won't be your lab rat today." I said, smiling mischievously.

After my words, Hoshiko froze, her hands sliding down my arms as her sharp gaze searched the absolute clarity of my expression.

Then, a sudden, wicked glint of pure understanding flared behind her dark eyes, and she took a slow step backward, with her lips pulling into a broad, teasing smile.

"Oh? Don't tell me that..." She trailed off, her eyes darting toward the heavy iron front door. "The untouchable baby wolf actually brought a boy into my sanctuary? Is he the legendary shadow ghost without a name you've been muttering about for months? Oh! I'm so curious now!"

"Just promise me you won't tease him too much," I whispered in a fierce, threatening hiss, leaning closer to her face. "He’s a good boy, and if you scare him, I will personally destroy your entire supply of piercing needles before poisoning you with your own ink."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Baby Wolf," Hoshiko chuckled, rolling her eyes dramatically as she leaned her hip against the leather chair, her posture identical to the striking, confident stance. "Come on, bring him in—"

Then, I turned my head toward the entrance, clearing my throat before calling out into the quiet of the alley. "Shin. You can come inside now."

The heavy iron door groaned open, and Shin stepped fully into the moody, neon-lit atmosphere of the studio.

He had his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his black cargo pants, his oversized black sweater framing his broad shoulders perfectly, his dark hair slightly disheveled from the wind outside.

He stopped a few feet from the threshold, his dark eyes scanning the glowing pink and blue signs with a quiet, polite curiosity.

"Hello—" he began cordially, his voice a deep, smooth rumble that instantly filled the quiet room.

The moment the sound of his vocabulary hit the air, Hoshiko completely froze, and silence filled the whole studio.

Her entire body went entirely rigid against the leather chair, her breath catching sharply in her throat.

She stared at him, her sharp gaze tracking every single detail of his frame, from the lean, confident line of his jaw to the intense, quiet warmth radiating from his dark eyes.

The casual, teasing mask she usually wore for the world completely dissolved into nothingness, leaving her looking utterly stunned.

She stood there, completely motionless under the flashing neon letters, her lips parting slightly as she muttered a single, involuntary whisper under her breath.

"Wow."

I must admit that I was starting to feel... strange. I knew that I shouldn't have, but I couldn't wash away the growing feeling of possessiveness growing inside me.

Then, Shin shifted his weight slightly, and a faint, genuine flash of embarrassment crossed his handsome features under the intensity of her glare.

He pulled his right hand out of his cargo pocket, extending it across the space between them in a polite, thoroughly formal gesture.

"Nice to meet you. I am—"

"Wait," Hoshiko cut in suddenly, her voice dropping into a sharp, breathy whisper that completely cut off his introduction.

She took two fast steps forward, completely ignoring his extended hand as she leaned closer into his personal space, her eyes widening to the point of absolute, stark shock as she stared dead into his face.

In that moment, my eyes violently widened, a sudden, freezing spike of intense confusion running straight down my spine as I watched her expression. My fingers clenched tightly around the strap of my leather bag, my throat locking up.

"Hoshiko...?" I stammered, my voice dropping into a low, dangerous register. "What the hell are you doing?"

Hoshiko didn't look at me. Her entire world seemed to have shrunk down to the boy standing in front of her.

Then, she swallowed hard, her voice trembling with an absolute, terrifying certainty that made my entire soul freeze solid in the quiet of the studio.

"I know you," she whispered, her gaze locked onto Shin’s wide eyes. "I know exactly who you are."

My heart stopped dead in my chest.

"What?" I whispered, the word hollow and desperate in the silence. "What the—"

The neon sign above us continued to hum quietly, casting its pink and blue light over the frozen triangle of our bodies.

"Are you... Shin Ishikawa?" Hoshiko asked, stepping close to me again.

And then, I saw Shin's expression change into one of pure confusion, while I didn't know how to react at something like that.

—

Author's Note: I've published an Image featuring Hoshiko in the gallery. This is the link: https://revengekarma.carrd.co/