Kawashima Miki held Fujiwara Reya’s hand for about five minutes before letting go.
Bending over and searching for sothing in her bag, she asked, "Hasn’t Asakusa Shrine had any pilgrims for a long ti?"
"Since the beginning of the year, there haven’t been more than thirty." Fujiwara Reya’s gaze fell on her bag.
A pure white GUCCI, with a simple, clean, and stable design but lacking warmth, like long sandy beaches with a fine rain falling.
"Generally," Kawashima Miki took out her phone, texting while asking, "people go to the shrine to seek sothing, right?"
"Mostly." Fujiwara Reya closed the Spanish dictionary, his hands flat on the cover.
"For example, what do they seek?"
"Everything."
"Specifically?" Kawashima Miki put away her phone, elegantly crossing her legs.
Thin black over-the-knee socks, beneath which faintly revealed creamy skin, the threads woven into the stockings had a strange allure that glued surrounding gazes to them.
"Lost items, luck, love, future... etc." Fujiwara Reya swallowed.
Watching the movent of his adam’s apple, Kawashima Miki smiled slightly.
At that mont, the two were sitting at opposite ends of a two-seater, half a ter apart. She wore a short skirt, her beautiful legs wrapped in over-the-knee socks, her high heels sexy and coordinated, with heels sharp like a deadly weapon.
Spider Demon’s feet... In Fujiwara Reya’s mind, strange thoughts suddenly erged.
"The inner needs of the pilgrims, the priest probably can predict them, right?" Kawashima Miki said, her lips closing into a line, eyes fixed on Fujiwara Reya, seemingly hoping for his agreent.
"Sort of know so, coming and going, mostly the sa things." Fujiwara Reya pointed to his temple, "Of course, not everything can be foreseen, there are always a few peculiar pilgrims. Most ways to deal with them are in here."
Kawashima Miki lightly scratched her nose, and a smile blood on her face, like a flower in full bloom.
A perfect gentle smile, with a slight hint of implication, her slightly squinting eyes were charming.
Fujiwara Reya, affected by it, couldn’t help but smile as well.
Because of this purposeful smile, this unfamiliar woman, who appeared like a career woman, seed less like one and more like a cultured and well-mannered rich lady prepared to have an affair because her man was always busy with work at ho.
"Well, then," Kawashima Miki said, her slender fingers slightly twisting her hair, "can Master Fujiwara guess my inner need?"
There was business coming in, so Fujiwara Reya’s attitude beca slightly more positive.
"First, I need to know what you’ve been through recently," he said.
"Um, it’s hard to say..." Kawashima Miki lightly bit her lower lip, her expression slightly hesitant, "Before I say anything, could Master Fujiwara tell his first impression of ?"
"Hard to say." Fujiwara Reya shook his head.
"Anything goes, say what you want." Kawashima Miki crossed her other leg, looking steadily at him without moving her gaze.
"Um, generally speaking, you give off the feeling of those rich daughters often seen in Minamiazabu or the Chiyoda District..." Fujiwara Reya carefully observed her long legs and her captivating eyes, "Good-looking, dignified, with beautiful long black hair, and a gentle deanor that evokes goodwill."
Kawashima Miki ran her fingers through her hair, looking at him thoughtfully.
"This kind of rich daughter usually attends so expensive private won’s university, majoring mostly in French or German, taking on a nominal position in their family’s company after graduation, drawing a high salary without having to work. They have plenty of ti every year to shop in Paris or Hong Kong with friends, attend Fashion Week in New York, go surfing in Hawaii on a yacht, or ski in the Alps by private jet. When they reach the appropriate age, they marry a young master from an equally wealthy family, felicitously resigning to beco a rich housewife, dedicating themselves to ensuring their children follow their own path."
"Pfft, haha~"
Kawashima Miki’s shoulders shook with laughter.
"You’re quite an interesting young boy." She said, covering her lips.
"No, no," Fujiwara Reya quickly shook his head, "I’m just an ordinary young boy. You can ask the crow perched on the garbage can tomorrow morning if you don’t believe ."
"How to ask?"
"You ask it, ’Isn’t Fujiwara Reya an ordinary person,’ and it’ll definitely answer you with a ’caw.’"
"But crows only go ’caw caw,’ don’t they?"
"Right, crows only go ’caw caw.’" Fujiwara Reya stated with an earnest expression, like talking about a well-known fact, "Just like Fujiwara Reya is rely an ordinary young boy, a universal truth sharing the world with it."
"Weirdo!" Kawashima Miki playfully blinked.
"Not weird, just good at spouting nonsense." Fujiwara Reya lightly shrugged, "Alright, miss, it’s ti to state your purpose."
"Call madam." Kawashima Miki corrected him.
Fujiwara Reya exclaid in surprise, "You’re married?"
"For many years," Kawashima Miki said, "even on the low end, it’s been ten years."
"Too young, can’t tell." Fujiwara Reya lanted, "But it seems my nonsense was right, you are indeed a rich housewife."
Kawashima Miki curiously asked, "What characteristics do rich housewives have in your eyes?"
Now she wasn’t really trying to probe Fujiwara Reya, just felt the young boy’s way of speaking was interesting, relaxing her, so she couldn’t help but chat about trivial matters.
"Rich housewives, quite lewd." Fujiwara Reya answered.
"Lewd?" Kawashima Miki looked at him in disbelief, as if wondering what was being said. But after a while, she nodded lightly, "Go on, don’t be afraid I’ll be angry, at this level, neither of us minds."
"Wearing expensive furs, carrying designer bags, outwardly glamorous, but doing all sorts of lewd things. Like enjoying blindfolding n, tying them to chairs, and whipping them." Fujiwara Reya leaned back on the sofa, stretching his legs, casually chatting with her, "Of course, it’s not just the madams. In this highly developed capitalist society, the wealthy engage in lewd deeds, irrespective of gender."
"I am indeed quite lewd, hahaha..." Kawashima Miki’s delicately shaped lips curved into a lovely smile, her fingers lightly brushing the bridge of her nose, "For instance, rrily chatting with a young boy behind my husband’s back, even contemplating having dinner and dancing together at a yacht party."
Her nails were painted with clear polish, smooth and shiny, like exquisite works of art.
"It’s alright," Fujiwara Reya laughed indifferently, "If there’s any misunderstanding, I can personally explain to him."
"Are you sure you want to explain to him?"
Kawashima Miki slightly tilted her head, her gaze passing over Fujiwara Reya, looking into the space behind him.
"I’m quite good at explaining things to others," Fujiwara Reya replied confidently.
Kawashima Miki pursed her lips in silence.
Her gaze lingered on a spot behind Fujiwara Reya, not necessarily at anything specific, perhaps just daydreaming. Fujiwara Reya noticed she seed slightly tired, the air from the air conditioner’s vent blowing against the lacy collar on her white blouse, creating a scene akin to an exquisitely symbolic painting.
"You have concerns?"
"A bit."
"You look sowhat tired." Fujiwara Reya noted.
"Yes." Kawashima Miki rubbed her eyes, distressingly asking, "Does tiredness make look old?"
"Not at all." Fujiwara Reya truthfully replied, "You look no older than 25, still as beautiful."
Kawashima Miki smiled, "You’re young, yet you know how to please a woman."
"Honestly, I seldom praise anyone like this." Fujiwara Reya responded.
At this mont, Kumiko erged from the elevator area, nodding at him from a distance.
"I must leave now. If you need anything, feel free to visit the shrine." Fujiwara Reya bid farewell to the unfamiliar woman before him, rising to walk towards her.
"Wait, I’m not finished." Kawashima Miki reached out to grab him.
Fujiwara Reya turned back.
Kawashima Miki held his hand, her slightly upturned delicate face suddenly showing a hint of sadness.
"I need your help with sothing," she said.
Such a young and beautiful lady, with a distressed expression like that of a neglected wife, Fujiwara Reya instantly linked it to a certain request.
Gazing at his handso face, Kawashima Miki’s chest rose and fell unsteadily. After a few deep breaths, seemingly resolved, she slowly opened her alluring red lips.
"My husband is dead, and I hope you can help in the future."
"?"
Madam—
Are you serious!!!
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