cosmicglory

“Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

This phrase goes back to the mid 19th century. It tells people to not judge anything by appearance alone. Because, even if the cover looks good, it doesn’t mean it is good, and vice versa.

He is not necessarily holding on to that saying, but, in a way, perhaps he does.

His hobby is people-watching and he creates stories from his observations of others, even if they’re just walking, or even sleeping. From the moment he sets his eyes on someone, he can conjure up their whole life like a story.

Of course, he not only watched one but many, hence the explanation of why he got here.

He was in the process of writing someone’s story when that someone entered a train, so he followed that person and… somehow got here. Well, it was not like it was the first time he ended up somewhere else while doing it, so it’s all good.

Gentaro was no stranger to bustling crowds and loud lights, but Shibuya and Shinjuku are different. While Shibuya is more popular among the youngsters, Shinjuku leans more towards the adults’ interests. Especially if we’re talking about Kabukicho right here.

Gaming arcades, themed restaurants, host clubs, love hotels, etc. True to its title, Kabukicho district in Shinjuku never sleeps. The flickering neon signs here and there, served as the miniature sun in the night, guiding people to their desired choice of place.

Having no specific destination in mind, he went along with the flow of the crowd. Somehow, he found his feet leading him to Kabukicho. As expected, it was swamped with host clubs, and within minutes, he was greeted with flashy smiles and flattery of young hosts before him; trying to escort him to their respective host clubs. He declined all offers, except one; the youngest with the sweetest smile. His smile was incredibly sweet that he reminded him of a candy, Gentaro thought. The host led him to Fragrance, seemingly the most popular host club in the area. He was not sure if he hit the jackpot, but, well.

As they entered the club, portraits of its top hosts greeted him. He scanned each of them properly, but the number one host caught his eye the most. His eyes laid on him longer than the rest.

If he could explain in a hyperbolic way then he’d say, “he’s strikingly bright he might go blind from seeing him alone”.

His hair is as bright as a sunflower, except he’s a different kind of breed with green-colored parts here and there. His left eye shot a (supposedly) deadly wink with his right hand extended as if welcoming customers in. There was definitely something about him that enticed people, he had to admit that. He’s got this aura that makes people unable to resist his charm, and perhaps that’s one of the main factors in how he climbed to the top.

With no knowledge in mind, naturally, he went for the first-timer’s rotation. One by one, each host came up to him, listening to his lies, feeding him with sweet talks and soothing gestures. Perhaps some of them were aware of his real identity but decided to stay shut, for experience’s sake.

It was fun, he thought, having people listening to him—even if it was all made-up lies. But, hey, it is a paradise filled with illusions and dreams, after all. Even the hosts that presented themselves before him were only showing their personas, not their real selves.

When he was left pondering what should he write for his next novel, the last host arrived.

“Is this your first time, little kitten?” A honeyed voice greeted his ears as he mustered the most entrancing smile he could. His golden eyes alluringly so.

It was the number one host.

Izanami Hifumi.

The long-awaited person. The main course.

“Little kitten, I see.”

“Oh, I sincerely apologize, Sir. Does that nickname make you feel uncomfortable in any way? Would a taste of champagne make it up for you?”

“Fret not. Why would I be angry with you? Champagne does sound like a good idea, though.”

“Do you have anything you prefer?”

“Not really. In that case, I shall get your favorite.”

“My favorite it is.” A faint smirk filled with mild amusement colored his face as he called over a bartender, asking him to bring over two glasses of champagne. Clearly, it wasn’t the first time a first-timer such as this straight-up-from-Edo-era guy ordered a beer based on his favorite, rather, it’s always been like this at times. If not most of the time. Yet somehow, there’s something something about him that made him so fascinating. Was it because his purpose here was not to flirt? Merely dropping by for whatever reason that is?

Truly, it feels like he’s being played. Then again, a bar is a place to play and being played at. And there’s nothing wrong about that, right?

“Correct me if I am mistaken, but could you possibly be Yumeno Gentaro-sensei? I have seen you on TV many times.”

“Nonsense. How could I be him? I am but a nobody, whose face happens to resemble his.”

“Is that so? Certainly, you’re not going to fool anyone with that eccentric fashion of yours, Yumeno-sensei.”

“What if I tell you I am cosplaying as him then? Or a twin of his?”

“A twin— Yumeno-sensei doesn’t have any, I believe. Even if he does, I don’t think he would reveal that information to a mere host that easily. Don’t you think so?”

“I cannot lie to you, it seems. Very well, I’ll tell you who I really am. It is, I, Yumeno Gentaro, in the flesh.”

“It is alright for me to refer you by Yumeno-sensei, I suppose?”

“That works for me.”

“Shall we enjoy the night with champagne then, Yumeno-sensei?”

.

Don’t judge a book by its cover.

Undoubtedly, with a rather peculiar hobby like that, he wasn’t one to judge people by their appearances alone.

Hence, when he met him; body trembling in fear, face flushed, and eyes shaking—he wasn’t surprised.

Well. Perhaps he was. A bit.

(He had imagined a story where despite being a host, he actually hated women. However, he wasn’t expecting his imagination to be real.)

The bar was already out of business, and before his eyes was an unexpected sight for anybody to see. A woman embracing a man. It would be nothing had they been just a drunk couple desperate to make out that in the street would do, except no. He knew the man all too well. How could he not? They met moments ago, and he was possibly his last customer before the bar closed. It’s none other than that Fragrance’s number one host and (self-proclaimed) Shinjuku’s number one host.

“Hifumi,” she muttered under her breath, hand stroking Hifumi’s yellow locks gently. Her eyes were clouded with pure lust, nothing else, “you’re mine now.”

Goodness gracious. It was terrifying how she managed to know it was Hifumi when his disguises were perfect. Black hoodie, black sunglasses, and a face mask. Gentaro didn’t even realize it was him until the black sunglasses slid down, revealing his enchanting—now shaking—golden eyes.

“I believe it is best if you refrain yourself from hugging this gentleman, miss.”

Sighing, Gentaro decided to take a step into the scene. The woman immediately shifted her gaze at him, barking. She was seething with anger.

“And who are you to interrupt us!?”

“I am none but a passerby. Regardless, can’t you see that this man doesn’t look pleased with your action? He doesn’t look good, does he?”

“SHUT UP! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND! NOBODY UNDERSTAND! HIFUMI IS MINE!”

“Ah, well.”

He didn’t like this. His only intention was to help him, but not getting entangled like this. How troublesome.

Fortunately, he had called the police before he came here. They should be coming anytime soon.

“Freeze! You’re not allowed to move!”

—and that’s his cue to leave.

.

“Yumeno-sensei! Thanks so much! I legit didn’t know what would I do if you hadn’t come to rescue.”

“It was only natural, no? To help someone in need.”

“Seriously, you’re such a big lifesaver! Lemme treat you to something!”

“There is no need. It wasn’t much compared to what you’ve gone through.”

“Still… Lemme give you this coupon, at least! You can enter the club for free! Just once, though.”

“Wait—”

“Oh! And here’s my number you can contact too! Feel free to contact me whenever! I’ll be sure to treat you to nice and delish foods around here. Or would you rather try my homemade cooking, perhaps? Anything is fine, just be sure to contact me, okay?”

“...I appreciate it. Thank you very much, Izanami-san.”

.

If there’s anything he found interesting and proved could be useful for his writing material, then this fact alone could be used.

Shinjuku’s number one host.

Loved and adored by women.

Izanami Hifumi—

—is scared of women.

#hifugen #hypmicfics