Assassinating The Remaining Distance
The Strawberry Milk Paradox
Nagisa’s apartment felt smaller than usual that night, but not in a way that felt suffocating. Instead, it felt like a cocoon, holding in the warmth that had radiated from Karma’s presence all afternoon. He had spent years appreciating the silence of his own home, the way the floorboards groaned in familiar places and the scent of jasmine tea lingered in the kitchen. Tonight, however, the silence was filled with the rhythmic thumping of his own heart, a steady drumbeat echoing the realization that he was no longer just drifting through a peaceful life. He was anchored.
He leaned against his front door for a long moment, his fingers grazing his lips. The kiss had been firm, a claim laid by a man who was used to getting what he wanted, yet it had possessed an undercurrent of reverence that Nagisa was still trying to process. Karma Akabane, the man who could make cabinet ministers tremble with a single arched eyebrow, had trembled himself.
"Love is a strange thing," Nagisa whispered to the empty hallway.
He moved through his evening routine like a man in a dream. He prepared a simple meal of rice and grilled salmon, but he found himself staring at the steam rising from the bowl rather than eating. His mind kept replaying the way Karma’s charcoal suit had looked against the backdrop of the school gates, and the way the man’s eyes had softened into molten gold when they were finally alone.
After finishing his dinner and cleaning the small kitchen with practiced efficiency, Nagisa retreated to his bedroom. He shed the professional attire of Shiota-sensei, the button-down shirt and slacks that acted as his armor against the skepticism of his students. In their place, he pulled on a soft, oversized pink t-shirt. It was a gift from Kayano a year ago, featuring a small, stylized cartoon of a strawberry milk carton on the chest.
Standing before the full-length mirror, Nagisa paused. He had always been aware of his physical traits—the petite frame, the soft features that leaned toward feminine, and the way his hips were slightly wider than the average man’s, a trait that often made finding well-fitting trousers a chore. For a long time, he had tried to hide these things, wanting to be seen as a formidable adult, a teacher, a man.
But tonight, looking at himself in the soft glow of his bedside lamp, he didn't feel the need to hide. Karma had looked at him today as if he were the most precious thing in the world. Karma didn't want him to be a giant; Karma wanted him exactly as he was.
"Pretty," Nagisa murmured, testing the word. He didn't mind it. If Karma thought he was pretty, then being pretty was a position of power.
On a whim, he sat on the edge of his bed, the mattress dipping under his slight weight. He picked up his phone, the screen illuminating his face. He opened the camera app, framed his face against the pillows, and stuck his tongue out in a playful, defiant gesture—a pale imitation of the bratty confidence Karma wore so naturally.
*Click.*
He hit send before he could talk himself out of it.
The "read" receipt appeared almost instantly. Nagisa held his breath, his thumb hovering over the screen. A second later, a heart reaction popped up on the image. Then, a flurry of stickers appeared—a cartoon bear showering a tiny white bunny with an aggressive amount of hearts and kisses.
Nagisa let out a soft laugh, falling back against the pillows. He could practically hear Karma’s smug, delighted cackle from across the city. Then, the typing indicator appeared. It pulsed for a long time, as if Karma were debating exactly how much of his internal monologue to share.
"Hey, honey," the message finally popped up.
Nagisa’s face flushed a deep crimson. The casual endearment felt like a physical touch.
"Just so you know, I miss you already," a second message followed.
Nagisa bit his lip, his thumbs flying across the keyboard. "Don't worry, Karma-kun. I think I'll be able to meet you again tomorrow."
"Sigh... but I don't want to let you out of my sight for another second," Karma replied. "And I have just the solution for it."
Nagisa frowned slightly, sending back a sticker of a confused little chick with a question mark over its head. "Wha~t?"
"I'm sure you know you're dating somebody pretty... well off now, don't you, Nagisa?"
Nagisa stared at the screen, a sense of playful dread bubbling in his chest. "I noticed the car, Karma. And the suit. And the fact that you didn't even look at the prices on the menu earlier."
"Good," Karma typed back. "Because I’ve decided that the commute between our apartments is a waste of valuable resources. Specifically, my time. And my sanity."
Nagisa sat up, his heart racing. "Karma, what are you saying?"
"I’m saying that I’ve already started looking at properties. Somewhere between the Ministry and your school. A penthouse, maybe? Or a modern house with high walls so I can keep you all to myself? I think you’d look great standing in a kitchen that actually has enough room for two people to move in."
Nagisa stared at the words, his mind reeling. They had only been "official" for a few hours, and Karma was already talking about real estate. It was quintessential Karma—fast, aggressive, and utterly certain of what he wanted.
"Isn't that a bit fast?" Nagisa typed, his hands shaking slightly. "We haven't even had a second date."
"We’ve had seven years of silence, Nagisa," the reply came back instantly, the playful tone replaced by something sharper, more honest. "I’m not interested in taking things slow anymore. I’ve spent enough time waiting. I want to wake up and see that pink shirt every morning. I want to be the one who makes sure you actually eat breakfast before you go to deal with those brats."
Nagisa felt a lump form in his throat. The arrogance was there, yes, but beneath it was that fierce, protective loyalty that had always defined Karma Akabane.
"I have a lease, Karma," Nagisa replied, trying to inject a note of practicality into the conversation.
"I’m a bureaucrat, Nagisa. I can make a lease disappear with a phone call and a very polite smile. Don't worry about the logistics. Just tell me... would you hate it? Living with me?"
Nagisa looked around his quiet, lonely apartment. He thought about the years he had spent building this "ordinary" life, a life that was safe and predictable. Then he thought about Karma—the chaos, the brilliance, the way he made Nagisa feel like he was capable of anything.
"I wouldn't hate it," Nagisa typed softly. "I think... I think I’d like to see you every morning, too."
The typing indicator didn't appear this time. Instead, his phone began to vibrate in his hand. Karma was calling.
Nagisa swiped to answer, bringing the phone to his ear. "Karma?"
"You can't say things like that over text, Nagisa," Karma’s voice was low, vibrating with a rich, dangerous warmth that made Nagisa’s toes curl. "It makes me want to drive back over there right now and break down your door."
"Please don't. My neighbors already think I’m dating a delinquent because of the car," Nagisa teased, though his voice was thick with emotion.
"A delinquent? I’ll have you know I am a pillar of society," Karma chuckled, the sound smoothing over Nagisa’s nerves like silk. "But seriously. Think about it. I’m not joking about the house. I want a home, Nagisa. With you. I want the burdens, and the quiet mornings, and the family. All of it."
Nagisa closed his eyes, leaning his head against the headboard. "I’m thinking about it."
"Good. Because I’m already looking at floor plans. I found one with a library that would be perfect for your grading. And a garden. You mentioned you wanted to grow herbs, right?"
Nagisa smiled, a tear finally escaping and rolling down his cheek. He had mentioned that once, years ago, in a passing comment during a class trip. Karma had remembered.
"You really are a terrifying person, Karma-kun," Nagisa whispered.
"I know," Karma replied, his voice softening into something incredibly tender. "But I’m your terrifying person. Get some sleep, Nagisa. I’ll be there at 7:30 to take you to work."
"7:30? That’s too early for you!"
"For you, I’ll manage. Goodnight, pretty boy."
"Goodnight, Karma."
Nagisa hung up the phone and tucked it under his pillow. He lay there in the dark, the pink strawberry on his shirt a small splash of color in the shadows. His life was no longer ordinary. It was becoming something complicated, expensive, and perhaps a little bit reckless.
It was becoming a life shared with Karma Akabane.
And as Nagisa drifted off to sleep, he realized that he wouldn't have it any other way. The "taming" he had practiced on his students was nothing compared to the way Karma had effortlessly dismantled his defenses. He had wanted a family, someone to support, and someone to love.
He hadn't realized that the person he was waiting for had been holding a blueprint for their future all along.
The next morning, the black sedan was back, idling outside the apartment complex. Nagisa walked out, his bag over his shoulder, feeling the eyes of his neighbors on him. Karma was behind the wheel, sunglasses on, looking every bit the high-powered official.
As Nagisa climbed in, Karma didn't say a word. He simply reached over, took Nagisa’s hand, and kissed the knuckles.
"Ready to go?" Karma asked, his eyes gleaming behind the dark lenses.
Nagisa looked at the man beside him—the burdens he carried, the sharp edges of his ambition, and the soft, hidden heart that he only showed to one person.
"Ready," Nagisa said.
As the car pulled away, Nagisa realized that his students were right about one thing. He wasn't bigger than anybody else in the room. But as he looked at Karma, he knew he was exactly where he was supposed to be. He was the anchor for a storm, the quiet for the noise, and the home for a man who had finally stopped running.
The ordinary life was gone, replaced by something much more vibrant. And as they drove toward the school, Nagisa Shiota decided that he quite liked the view from the passenger seat.