Chapter 4: -- One Rip and It's Over

Mika eventually walked through the front door and saw Riku lounging on the couch, totally relaxed and absorbed in the TV.

“Hey…” she greeted, kicking off her shoes.

“Took you long enough,” Riku replied without looking away. “Did you guys walk to Tokyo and back or something?”

Mika plopped down next to him with a content sigh. “We might as well have. But totally worth it. We went to NekoBite and tried, like, everything. I had this spicy noodle bowl called the Volcano Oni Ramen. It was crazy!”

“Sounds dangerous,” Riku said. “Did you sign a waiver before eating it?”

She chuckled. “I should’ve. My mouth was on fire the entire time, but I survived… barely.”

A sudden, deep gurgle erupted in Mika’s stomach. Her smile faltered.

Oh no. The noodles must be doing something to my stomach.

She shifted slightly, crossing her legs and trying to stay composed. Riku remained totally zoned in on the TV.

“Glad you had fun,” he said. “I’ve been watching this sci-fi mystery thing. It’s actually kinda good.”

“Y-Yeah! Cool!” Mika replied, trying to sound normal. “Space and mystery. Love it.”

Another rumble—louder this time. Her eyes widened slightly as her stomach churned like a bubbling cauldron. She clenched her fists in her lap.

Okay. Deep breath. You can get through this. Just… wait until the episode ends. Don’t make any sudden moves. You’re fine. You are fine, Mika.

More rumbling. Her back stiffened. She forced a smile through the internal chaos.

I am not fine. That noodle bowl was a mistake. Why did I let peer pressure win?? WHY did I get extra spice?!

She glanced at Riku. He hadn’t even noticed. One arm rested casually on the back of the couch, his eyes glued to the screen. Mika bit her lip, a thin sheen of sweat forming at her temples.

If I get up now, he’ll ask where I’m going. If I don’t… he’ll witness the most unholy sound known to man. This is a lose-lose situation.

She shifted again, subtly pressing a throw pillow against her stomach in a desperate attempt to muffle the next gurgle.

“You’re awfully quiet now,” Riku said, still focused on the screen. “Food coma hitting?”

“YEP!” Mika’s voice came out way too high. “Just… super relaxed! Mmm… digestion is amazing. Love it.”

That was the worst lie I’ve ever told. He’s gonna figure it out. Oh god. I can’t let him hear me destroy the toilet.

Another gurgle tore through her belly. Her knees bounced. That was it. She couldn’t take it anymore.

Abort mission. I repeat — ABORT MISSION.

She stood up quickly, clutching her stomach.

“I-I’m just gonna, um, grab something real quick! I’ll be right back!”

“Cool. Do whatever you want,” Riku mumbled, not taking his eyes off the TV.

Mika power-walked out of the room, nearly levitating from sheer panic.

Okay, almost there. Just a few more steps and—

She froze mid-hallway, both hands pressing firmly against her belly, eyes squeezed shut.

“Come on, hold it in. Hold it in! Just a little longer…”

Another ominous gurgle escaped. She whimpered.

Oh no, that was definitely louder than I hoped!

She glanced back toward the living room, then forward at the bathroom door. Just a few steps away.

“Please, please, don’t let him hear this.”

Almost there! Just a few more seconds and I’ll finally earn freedom!

A tiny “pffft” slipped out. Mika stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide in horror.

“Oh no…” she whispered.

She pressed her hands tighter against her stomach, face scrunching up in pure discomfort.

Just hold on a little longer. Don’t make a sound…

She took another cautious step.

In the living room, Riku turned his head, frowning slightly. But he shook it off and looked back at the screen.

“What’s taking her so long?” he muttered.

Mika finally reached the bathroom and fumbled with the handle. She practically dove inside, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Okay… in here… finally,” she whispered, out of breath. “Just get it over with…”

A loud fart erupted, echoing off the bathroom walls.

Riku froze on the couch, eyes narrowing. He tilted his head slightly.

“…Was that… thunder?”

Mika’s eyes bulged.

Oh no! He heard that! He definitely heard that!

“Looks like that storm’s getting louder,” Riku said with a quiet laugh. “Maybe it’s gonna be a wild night.”

Thank god… He thinks it’s the storm.

Another wave built inside her with frightening speed. Mika pressed her palms flat against her stomach.

Not now, not now! Hold it in, hold it in!

Riku stood and walked to the window Mika had broken on her first day—now repaired. He peered outside at the downpour and occasional flashes of lightning.

“Let’s see if this storm’s really going to put on a show…”

A bolt of lightning lit up the garden, followed by a booming thunderclap.

“Whoa!” Riku jumped. “Okay, that was intense.”

He suddenly froze.

“…Wait. My shirts!”

He bolted toward the door.

“THEY’RE STILL HANGING OUTSIDE!! No, no, no! NOT AGAIN!”

He threw the door open and ran into the storm, disappearing into the rain.

Back in the bathroom, Mika let out a shaky, relieved sigh.

“Finally… he’s gone.”

A sheepish grin spread across her face.

“Time to let it all out.”

Another monstrous fart exploded into the room.

“Ahh… sweet relief.”

Outside, Riku struggled to collect the soaked shirts, muttering under his breath.

“Ugh, soaked again. I swear, every time it rains, I forget about these.”

Thunder rolled above him as he stood shivering beneath the downpour.

“Maybe this storm really is gonna be a wild night…”

A loud crack of thunder rattled the windows as Riku stood by the door, squinting through the downpour. Raindrops dripped off his bangs and soaked shoulders as he blinked into the stormy haze.

“Let’s see if this storm’s really gonna put on a show…”

Another flash of lightning lit up the backyard. His eyes briefly scanned the garden.

Then he froze.

“…Wait a sec…”

His gaze locked onto the small metal shed in the far corner of the yard. The door was wide open, swinging on its hinges like a horror movie invitation.

“No, no, no—”

Without thinking, he bolted out into the rain, sprinting toward the shed with drenched socks slapping against the soaked ground. Cold rain pummeled him from every angle, but he barely noticed.

As soon as he stepped inside the shed—

“WHAT THE—?!”

A scream burst out of him, echoing over the thunder.

The entire floor was submerged in murky rainwater. A thin layer sloshed over his shoes. Extension cords floated like dead snakes. In the corner, his old desktop computer, propped on two wooden crates, now sat in a puddle. A mini freezer buzzed weakly, flickering with dying power.

He threw his arms up in frustration.

“Are you kidding me?! This thing wasn’t even supposed to get wet! I JUST wiped this place down last week!”

Meanwhile, inside the house, Mika tensed as she heard the distant yelling.

What now?

She clutched her stomach, lips pressed tightly together.

Come on, Riku, stop screaming and just leave again. Please. PLEASE.

The sound of footsteps returned—sopping, angry ones. Riku stomped through the door, dripping wet again, this time tracking muddy rainwater across the floor.

“Stupid shed! Stupid storm! Why do I even keep electronics in there?!”

He shook himself off like a dog and threw the pile of shirts into the laundry basket, letting them hang over the side to drip.

From the bathroom, Mika gripped the toilet seat with white knuckles.

Not now! Not when he’s this close again!

She heard him pacing, muttering louder now.

“I swear, that freezer was still working yesterday. And now the whole floor’s basically a swamp. How does rain even get in from the ROOF?!”

Mika tried to breathe slowly, but her stomach gurgled in protest. She buried her face in her hands.

Why is this my life right now?

Suddenly, the front door creaked open again. She froze.

Then—

“Forget it, I’m not letting all that stuff short out!”

His voice trailed off as his footsteps faded quickly, back into the storm.

Mika blinked.

Gone… again?

Her entire body sagged with relief.

“Finally…”

Another blast of gas echoed in the room, louder than the first.

“Ohh yeah…”

Back outside, Riku trudged through ankle-deep puddles, eyes narrowed as he yanked an old tarp off the fence.

“If I can just get the top covered, maybe the tower’s salvageable. Maybe.”

He skidded back into the shed, pushing crates out of the water’s path and unplugging wires as fast as he could.

Inside the house, Mika rested her head back against the wall and closed her eyes.

I swear, if I survive this… I’m never eating spicy food again.

Riku grunted as he yanked the tarp over the shed roof, fumbling with the wet, flapping plastic.

“Stay still, you stupid—!”

The wind picked up and smacked the tarp into his face.

“GAH!”

He wrestled with it, finally managing to tie it down using a frayed rope and a loose bike chain he found on the floor. The rain was relentless, soaking through his shirt, jeans, even his socks — again.

He stared down at the water pooling around his feet, then looked at his now-drenched electronics.

The old desktop was tilted sideways, half-submerged like the Titanic. The mini freezer buzzed faintly, then clicked off with a sad-sounding pop.

Riku just stood there in silence, blinking.

“…Cool. Perfect. Just fantastic.”

He ran a hand down his soaked face.

“You know what? This day’s officially on my ‘Top Ten Dumbest Days of All Time’ list.”

He stepped back to assess the damage—then slipped on a soaked magazine cover floating underfoot.

His legs flew out from under him.

THUD.

Riku groaned from the floor.

“I swear, if one more thing happens today—”

Just then, the lightbulb above flickered… then popped, shrouding the shed in complete darkness.

“…Right. Okay. Never mind. Keep it coming.”

He sat up, dragging himself toward the door like a wounded soldier. His elbow hit a soggy cardboard box full of wires. A lone plastic spatula clattered out.

He stared at it.

“…Why is there a spatula in here?”

No answer. Just the sound of thunder overhead.

He crawled to the doorway and leaned against the frame, soaked, miserable, and covered in mud. His hair was sticking to his forehead, his pants felt like they weighed ten pounds, and something cold just slid down the back of his shirt.

“…I hate today.”

Inside the house, Mika let out one last, victorious sigh.

“…Much better.”

She flushed, washed her hands, and quietly opened the door—only to hear Riku yelling from the yard again.

“WHY IS THERE A FAMILY OF SPIDERS LIVING IN MY TOOLBOX?!”

Mika gently cracked open the bathroom door.

“Huh?”

She stepped into the hallway and followed the sound of flapping plastic and muttered frustration.

Outside, Riku was halfway up a short ladder, struggling to secure a strip of clear tarp across the leaky shed roof. Rain still trickled down from the edges as the wind toyed with the plastic like a flag.

“Come on, just hold still for ONE second!”

Mika stepped onto the porch, blinking at the mess.

“What happened out here?”

Riku looked down, soaked and mildly annoyed but somehow keeping it together.

“Shed got flooded. Freezer’s fried. I think the old PC’s floating. And don’t even get me started on the spider family reunion I walked in on.”

“Yikes…” Mika winced. “Need help?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not gonna trip over your own feet and rip the whole roof off, right?”

She crossed her arms. “Hey! That happened once. And technically, it was a curtain rod.”

“Alright, alright. I need someone to hold this tarp while I secure it. Just don’t sneeze too hard or the whole thing might fly away.”

Mika hopped off the porch and grabbed a corner of the tarp with both hands. “I got it. Teamwork!”

They worked together, Riku climbing along the top, Mika holding her ground below. But halfway through, Mika’s stomach gave a tiny, traitorous rumble.

Her eyes twitched.

No. Not now.

She gritted her teeth and stood still, trying to keep her expression neutral as another bubble of discomfort stirred inside her.

Riku didn’t notice at first. He tugged on the rope and leaned toward her.

“Hold it tight! I’m gonna wrap it around this beam—Mika? You okay?”

“Huh? Yep! Totally fine!” she said, her voice rising a full octave.

“You’re kinda stiff.”

“I’m just… super focused! Like, tarp-level focused.”

He raised a brow. “Is that a thing?”

“It is now!”

Another gurgle. Mika’s eyes flicked side to side like a trapped animal.

Don’t fart. Don’t fart. Not here. Not while he’s literally three feet away. Focus on the tarp. Tarp is life. Tarp is everything.

Riku climbed down beside her, wiping rain from his eyes.

“You sure you're okay? You look like you’re holding in a sneeze or a secret.”

Mika let out a nervous laugh. “No secrets here! Just… tarp stuff! Real intense tarp energy!”

He gave her a skeptical look but shrugged, walking around to the other side.

“Alright, just hang in there. Almost done.”

You have no idea, she thought, sweat dotting her forehead despite the cool rain.

She shifted her stance, trying to discreetly rearrange internal pressure. One wrong move and it would all go south.

This is it. My final boss battle. Not fire-breathing dragons, not ancient curses—just my own stomach betraying me in the middle of tarp duty.

They finally fastened the last bit of tarp. Riku gave it a tug, satisfied as the plastic held firm.

“Well,” he exhaled, “that should stop any more rain from turning this place into an indoor pool.”

Mika nodded quickly, her face tense. “Awesome. Great job. Teamwork. I’ll be right back!”

Before Riku could respond, she darted off toward the house, moving like someone sprinting for an Olympic medal.

“Uh… okay,” he blinked. “Weird.”

He rubbed his neck, watching her disappear.

“…Maybe she ate something weird.”

Shrugging it off, Riku climbed down from the roof and stepped into the shed. His boots squished as they hit the soggy floor. The water had puddled around everything, soaking a pile of flattened cardboard boxes and reaching the base of the shelving.

He groaned.

“Oh, come on…”

He waded in carefully and bent down next to the short table where the mini freezer sat. Beside it, an old computer tower blinked once… and then fizzled with a tiny pop.

“NOPE—!”

He quickly unplugged it.

“Guess you’re not getting sold after all…”

Grumbling, he searched for anything remotely useful. The only thing he found was a ratty towel from who-knows-when.

He sighed dramatically, picked it up, and began swiping it across the floor.

“This is the worst towel for this. This is, like, the anti-towel.”

Water smeared more than it disappeared. Riku squatted and muttered to himself, still wiping.

“Should’ve just let the shed flood and declared it a koi pond.”

A faint rumble of thunder echoed in the distance as he kept working.

Inside the bathroom, Mika sat hunched forward, face buried in her hands.

“Finally,” she whispered.

A long, sputtering fart echoed through the room, followed by a breathless sigh of relief.

“Ohhh thank god…”

Her stomach let out another low gurgle, and she leaned to one side.

“Let it out, let it out, let it out…”

The moment was blissful—brief, but blissful—until she heard the front door creak open and slam shut.

“Hey, Mika?” Riku’s voice called from the front of the house. “Can you come help me dry out the shed? The whole floor’s soaked and I’m running out of towel over here!”

Mika’s eyes shot open. Her body froze.

No. No, no, no—not now!

She scrambled to finish up, washing her hands at record speed, still halfway hunched as her stomach protested with one last angry gurgle.

She opened the door a crack, voice tight but cheerful.

“C-Coming!”

Footsteps approached. Riku stood just outside the hall, toweling his hair dry with a shirt.

“There you are,” he said. “Where were you?”

Mika forced a smile, her voice slightly too upbeat. “Just, uh… had to pee real quick!”

Riku blinked, then nodded, unfazed. “Cool. Grab a towel and meet me in the shed. It’s a swamp in there.”

Mika nodded, still slightly hunched. “On it!”

As he turned and walked away, she whispered under her breath:

“Worst timing ever…”

Mika grabbed a towel and followed Riku back into the shed. The smell of damp wood and wet earth filled the cramped space.

Riku started wiping at the puddles on the floor, while Mika tried to help, carefully dabbing around the boxes and old electronics.

Her stomach churned uncomfortably again, but she refused to show it. She smiled awkwardly, pretending nothing was wrong.

Riku glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

“You okay? You’re acting kinda… tense.”

Mika shook her head quickly, forcing a laugh. “Nah, just… uh, tired from all the running around today.”

Riku raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh.”

The silence stretched as Mika’s discomfort grew. Then, suddenly—

A loud, prolonged fart broke the quiet.

Mika’s eyes widened. Her face flushed a deep shade of red, burning hotter by the second.

She stood frozen, staring down at the towel in her hands as if it might swallow her whole.

No, no, no! Not here! Not now!

Riku’s nose crinkled and he backed away slightly, folding his arms.

“Alright, that’s it,” he said, voice dry but not unkind. “You should probably go.”

Mika nodded wordlessly, cheeks still blazing, and practically ran out of the shed.

Once inside her room, she locked the door and leaned against it, trying to calm her racing heart.

That one big fart had done its job—the storm inside her stomach finally settled.

She sighed, slipping into her pajamas and crawling into bed, but the embarrassment lingered.

HOW DID I JUST FART IN FRONT OF RIKU? MY CHILDHOOD CRUSH?!

I am never, ever living this down.

But with a tired smile, she closed her eyes and let sleep take over, hoping tomorrow would bring a little less… chaos.