Every Saturday behind the Arekusu shrine Oreki would fill Juumonji's
pussy with his cock. She was insatiable. Even after two or more
orgasms she would try to coax another rise out of Oreki, usually to no
avail. He was at or near the prime of his sexual life but there were
physiological limits to these things.

She had broken up with Daisuke, telling him that she wouldn't have any
free time over the next few years as her father began grooming her to
inherit the shrine. Which was a bald-faced lie, but thankfully the
Arekusu god was not a stickler on honesty or chastity.

Oreki himself wasn't sure why he kept meeting with Juumonji. Irisu
had been avoiding him at school. He thought of the tarot card
reading, and what it all meant. Not that he took it seriously, but as
Juumonji had said, it gave him an opportunity to introspect.

"The hanged man."

"Are you still thinking about that?"

Juumonji was wiping her thighs clean with a tissue. She had gotten
good at fucking with her miko garments on and not soiling them.

"I love her," Oreki said.

"And yet here you are, fucking another girl."

"This is different."

"You're right. This is different."

Juumonji adjusted her hakama, tightening the belt and making sure it
felt snug against her body.

"But good luck convincing Fuyumi of that."

Irisu was civil with him in public but their infrequent trysts had

come to an end. The situation frustrated Oreki. He didn't know if it
was the denial of sex or the denial of emotion that angered him the
most.

He hatched a plan to follow her and confront her when she was alone,
but that moment never came. She surrounded herself with classmates and
when school ended Morita would show up in his red convertible and
whisk Irisu away.

Out of desperation he biked all the way to Irisu's home one afternoon
and rang the doorbell, asking to be let in. To his surprise the door
opened.

"Yes?"

A woman had answered the door. Oreki didn't recognize her.

"I was looking for Fuyumi..."

"Oh she isn't here right now. Ryousuke took her on a dinner date. You
are?"

"A classmate."

"I see. I'm Sakuya, Fuyumi's mother. She should be back any minute
now. Would you like to wait inside?"

"Can I ask what your opinion of your daughter's marriage is?"

Sakuya paused.

"We feel it's best for her."

"Have you asked her what she thinks of it?"

"I have. She's very fond of Ryousuke."

"Do you truly believe that?"

"What exactly is your relation to Fuyumi? I find it hard to believe
that a classmate would be so interested in her personal life."

"I'm a friend who doesn't want to see her get hurt."

"And neither do I. But I assure you this is what Fuyumi wants."

"How would you react if your daughter called off the wedding?"

"That would never happen, so discussing any hypotheticals about a
cancelation are a waste of time. I think I deserve some sort of
explanation as to why you're asking these sorts of questions. You're
not just a friend of hers, are you?"

"No, you are right. I've fallen in love with your daughter and I don't
want her to marry Morita."

"I see. Unfortunately, I believe the situation is hopeless for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Ryousuke's family has a long tradition of serving the government. And
for as long as Fuyumi has been alive she has dreamed of joining the
Diet. Marrying Ryousuke would give her the political connections that
our family lacks to make that dream a reality."

Oreki stared at Sakuya, mouth agape.

"In other words," Sakuya said, "Fuyumi is marrying Ryousuke for
personal gain."

Irisu didn't return home that night. Sakuya didn't look surprised or

all that concerned about the welfare of her daughter. After nine Oreki
excused himself and left.

He returned home where his sister was waiting for him.

"You look like a beaten dog," she remarked. She was sitting on the
couch reading a magazine.

"Shut up."

"Something you want to talk to your big sis about?"

"No."

He walked to the refridgerator and drank an entire half carton of
milk.

"This came in the mail for you."

She held up a plain white envelope. Oreki walked over and grabbed it.
It was unmarked.

"What is this?"

"Found it in our mailbox. You might want to read it."

Oreki went up to his room and opened the envelope. It contained a
letter. He recognized the handwriting.

I want to apologize for the way I've treated you. I was impressed by

your intelligence, and in a moment of weakness I sought you out as an
ailment to my loneliness. But I understand now that was a mistake. I
gave you the wrong impression about my motives. I love Ryousuke and I
never had any intention of leaving him. Although I enjoyed the time I
spent with you, I fear those days have come to an end. Out of respect
for Ryousuke and for me, please remain distant. This is my last
request to you as a friend.

Oreki crumpled up the letter into a ball and threw it at the wall.

She was lying to herself. She didn't love Ryousuke. The fact that she
forced herself to write such a conciliatory letter was proof. The
letter only hardened his resolve. Damn the hanged man or whatever
fortunes Juumonji had drawn for him. He would do whatever it took to
spoil their wedding.