Late on the night of Sunday, October 31, 3938, a cool breeze rustled the colorful autumn leaves as Lida and Yuki stepped onto the platform of the train station, their anticipation mingling with the faint scent of bonfires still lingering in the air. The station itself was adorned with festive decorations and paper lanterns, creating an eerie yet enchanting atmosphere. They were surrounded by people in costumes, some of which were quite elaborate. Some of the costumes were monstrous in appearance, while many others were simply humorous.
Lida's light brown skin glowed softly under the station's warm lights, and her long, straight brown hair cascaded down her back, catching the light in shimmering waves. Her bright blue eyes seemed to hold a hint of mischief, a reflection of the playful spirit of the night. The yukata that Lida wore, though slightly snug around her subtly curved belly, lent an alluring charm to her every movement. Exhausted from Halloween festivities, Yuki's kimono-wrapped form sought solace in the rhythmic motion of the train, while Lida tried to entice him with a dance.
"Do you mind telling me what's on your mind?" Lida inquired, her voice a mellifluous melody cutting through the ambient noise. "I can tell there's something troubling you."
Yuki sighed, the mask of fatigue giving way to the raw vulnerability that Lida's presence always seemed to uncover. "I haven't been home in so long," he confessed, his voice a soft echo of longing.
"I've been avoiding my sisters for a while now. I love them, but they can be a bit overbearing. And I needed time away from my parents and their snobbish, old-fashioned, xenophobic ways."
Lida's gaze softened as she listened, her dance subsiding into a reassuring caress. "Just know I'm here for you."
"Even if they cut off my allowance?" Yuki's question held a blend of resignation and apprehension, the weight of familial expectations hanging heavy.
"What?" Lida's eyes widened in genuine surprise.
"I've been ignoring their attempts at contact," Yuki admitted, his vulnerability laid bare. "Repercussions are likely."
The gravity of the situation settled in, and Lida's lips curved into a playful smile. "Oh. In that case, could I get an advance payment?"
A soft chuckle escaped Yuki, a fleeting moment of levity in the midst of his inner turmoil. "Yes. But you haven't stayed with me just for my money, have you?"
"Of course not," Lida replied with an ardent sincerity. "There's the food, sex, and conversation, and I guess there's even a bit of an emotional connection, too."
Yuki's eyes sparkled with a mixture of relief and affection, his hand finding Lida's in a comforting embrace. "Thank you," he whispered. "By the way, what's your ethnic and religious background?"
"Montenegrin, Arab, and Romani," Lida shared, her voice carrying a sense of unapologetic pride. "Non-denominational Muslim."
"Yeah, my parents probably won't like you." Yuki's admission was accompanied by a rueful smile, a silent acknowledgment of the hurdles that lay ahead.
From the train station, a sleek black limousine carried Lida and Yuki through the night, its plush interior a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere that had enveloped them. As they approached their destination, an elegant traditional Japanese house emerged from the shadows, its graceful architecture illuminated by soft lantern light. As they pulled up to the entrance, Yuki turned to Lida. "I'll go in first," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of caution and determination. He stepped out of the car and approached the entrance, his heart pounding with a blend of anticipation and anxiety. He opened the door and almost immediately found himself with a gun to his head and a sword to his throat, which was just the sort of welcome he had come to expect from his sisters.
One of the two girls, who was somewhat smaller, wore a long, snowflake-patterned dress with several pockets. She had green eyes and long, straight, black hair. "You've been away for far too long." Her voice carried a mixture of reproach and familiarity as she sheathed her sword, her gaze locked on her brother.
"I brought a guest," Yuki stated simply, his voice bearing the weight of his determination. Gesturing toward Lida, he explained, "This is Lida."
The other girl had long, curly, brown hair and green eyes, and she was wearing a short black dress. She lowered her gun, her gaze sweeping over Lida with an impassive assessment. "Our parents aren't going to like this. I feel sorry for you. Welcome home."
"Lida, these are my sisters," said Yuki. Gesturing to the first, he explained, "This is Little Yuki."
"Her name is also Yuki?" asked Lida.
"Yes," said Little Yuki.
Yuki then gestured to his other sister, continuing, "This is Other Yuki."
"So you're all named Yuki Yuuki?" asked Lida.
"Yes," said Other Yuki.
Lida struggled to make sense of the situation, and asked Yuki, "Why do you and your sisters all have the same name?"
"We don't," said Little Yuki. "They're written differently in Japanese."
"That's right," said Other Yuki. "They're only pronounced the same."
"That still doesn't make it practical," said Lida.
"That's why our family uses different descriptors for us," said Yuki. "I was born first, so I can go without one."
"I was born second," said Little Yuki. "Twelve minutes after my brother and nine minutes before my sister."
"And that would just leave Other Yuki," said Lida.
"I didn't have enough unique traits," said Other Yuki.
"Fair enough. But why make things needlessly complicated in the first place?"
"Our parents did it as a publicity stunt," said Yuki. "It was to distract from their high-profile criminal case while they arranged the assassination of the judge, jury, prosecutor, and chief of police and destroyed the evidence against them."
"What was the case about?"
"Tax evasion," Yuki replied. "We should probably go inside before discussing any more."
Yuki's gesture prompted Lida to follow him into the house. Her heart raced as she nodded to the armed figures they passed, her eyes avoiding direct contact with those who seemed to possess an air of authority. Finally, they reached Yuki's bedroom, where Yuki closed the door behind them, creating a temporary sanctuary from the outside world.
"Who are all those people?" Lida's voice held a mixture of curiosity and unease, her gaze lingering on the door as if it were a fragile barrier between them and the enigmatic crowd beyond.
"Most of them are my cousins, or people who serve them," Yuki explained, his voice a measured blend of exhaustion and tension. "Hopefully, they'll relay the news of my return to my parents, so I don't have to confront them directly. If and when I do have to talk to them, they should be better composed."
"So, what do we do until then?" Lida asked.
Yuki's lips curved into a wistful smile, his eyes holding a depth of emotion that defied words. "I don't know. I guess I could try to answer any questions you may have."
"Why were you so eager to keep my company?" Lida began, her voice a delicate thread weaving through the air. "You've spent so much on me, but you really didn't have to."
Yuki's response was heartfelt and simple, carrying the weight of his emotions. "Because I love you, of course."
Lida's admission was equally heartfelt, her voice a gentle affirmation of their connection. "I want you to know that I love you, too, and I'm here for you."
"Thank you," Yuki's voice held a mixture of relief and gratitude, his hand finding Lida's in a reassuring gesture.
As the conversation meandered, Yuki's emotions flowed freely, revealing his thoughts and experiences. The topic shifted, and Lida's voice held a new layer of uncertainty. "How do you feel about children?"
Yuki's response was laced with warmth and enthusiasm. "I think they're delightful. I've had some experience babysitting my younger cousins."
"Do you intend to raise any child of yours to adulthood?"
Yuki's reply held a note of uncertainty, his voice tinged with the complexities of the future. "Maybe someday when I'm older. Why do you ask?"
Lida's words held a sense of vulnerability. "I'm pregnant. I thought it was obvious."
"I thought you were just getting fat." Yuki's response was unexpectedly candid. "I didn't mention it because I didn't really mind."
A laugh escaped Lida, a melodic note of amusement that danced through the air. "Fair enough."
Yuki couldn't resist commenting, "Hey, we should name our baby Yuki."
The suggestion hung in the air, a mixture of playfulness and earnestness. Yet, Lida's response was swift and definitive. "No," she retorted, her voice carrying a mock threat. "If you ever suggest that again, I'll kill you."
Yuki's laughter filled the room, a buoyant sound that broke through the lingering tension. "Understood. I'll leave the name entirely up to you."
"You're taking this extraordinarily well."
Yuki's response carried a mix of honesty and introspection. "I'm sure it will take a long time to truly set in."
"Oh, I suppose that's reasonable, then," said Lida. "When would be a good time to tell your parents?"
"Much later. Much, much later."