Who Did I Let Into My House...

Seiji gathered the dishes after dinner, moving with the same efficient precision he used in everything. Hideaki sat slumped on the couch, his hands tied with a kitchen towel, clearly frustrated by his failed attempt to kill Seiji.

Seiji finished washing the dishes and returned to the living room, casting a glance at his sulking houseguest. He wasn't ready to die just yet.

"I only have one bed," Seiji said, breaking the silence, "so you'll be sleeping on the couch tonight." He paused for a moment before heading to his room to grab a pillow and blanket.

"Tch-" Hideaki clicked his tongue in annoyance.

When Seiji returned, he dropped the pillow and blanket next to Hideaki. "Here," he said bluntly, not bothering to ask if Hideaki was comfortable.

The irritated expression on Hideaki's face didn't go unnoticed. Seiji sighed, visibly unimpressed. "I'll untie you, but don't think this is permanent. Attack me again, and I'll tie you up tighter next time. So, do yourself a favor and behave."

Hideaki's expression shifted from sulky to furious. "Tch! Stop ordering me around!"

Seiji's patience snapped, and he responded, his voice sharp but controlled. "And I told you I'll let you kill me once you're not half-dead. What did I get? A weak, sloppy attack." He folded his arms, glaring at Hideaki. "You're not strong enough to do the job. You'll get your chance when you're actually capable. Until then, cut the attitude."

Seiji knelt down, calmly untying Hideaki. "And by the way, you need to work on your manners. Swearing at me is not going to help your case. You act like a feral animal, snapping at everything."

"Tssk-!" Hideaki hissed back at him, baring his sharp teeth.

Seiji raised an eyebrow. "Exactly. That's what I'm talking about." He exhaled, reigning in his irritation. "Just... relax. I'm going to take a bath. Today has been long enough without your theatrics."

He walked toward the bathroom, ignoring Hideaki's escalating frustration, and added as an afterthought, "If you need something, knock. The bathroom's down the hall." Without another glance, Seiji locked himself inside, letting the sound of running water drown out his thoughts.

As he soaked in the bath, he tried to unwind, knowing that Hideaki was likely still stewing in the living room.

The thought of sharing a space with a man who appeared to have very extreme violent urges didn't faze Seiji as much as it should've - he'd been through worse situations and to add, Seiji knew that Hideaki was so weak that even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to kill him anytime soon.

But even despite all that... Still, it was a strange twist to his already complicated life.

Outside the bathroom, Hideaki wandered aimlessly. He sniffed his shirt, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Damn, I need to clean up..."

Summoning his dwindling energy, Hideaki shuffled toward the bathroom door and knocked heavily. "Hurry up! I need to wash too!"

Seiji rolled his eyes. "Be patient."

Hideaki sighed discouragingly.

With nothing better to do, he decided to scan the apartment. His eyes fell on the door across from the bathroom. He approached it quietly and opened it, revealing a minimalistic furnished bedroom.

In one corner stood a small wardrobe for clothes, and in the opposite corner, a single bed accompanied by a bedside table with a night lamp. Above bed was medium-sized window from which the night sky and the rest of the city was visible. Along the left wall was a wooden desk with a computer, a pot with a small green fern, and a wooden shelf with various books arranged above the desk. Next to the desk was a black backpack.

Hideaki grinned wickedly and entered the room. He first searched Seiji's wardrobe. Suddenly, he realized that if he took a bath, he wouldn't have anything to change into.

'Shit... I wouldn't want to put on again my old, worn-out clothes. After a bath I'll be clean!'

He gazed at the wardrobe 

'I bet he can spare me some of his clothes... He probably wouldn't notice that some clothes are missing anyways... Tch-'

He quickly took one of the looser shirts, neatly folded in a cube, and black shorts from the shelves nearby. Then he looked at the bookshelf, but unfortunately, he didn't find anything valuable there. His gaze fell on Seiji's black backpack.

He began to rummage through it, in hopes of finding something he could take.

Suddenly, he came across something square... When he took it out of the backpack pocket, it turned out to be a wallet. Seeing an opportunity to enrich himself, Hideaki grinned wickedly. Slowly, he opened the wallet and began to browse its contents...

From change, thick-valued Yen banknotes, to a credit card. The killer began to take out all the financial means that Seiji had.

Holding the money in his hand, he was about to put everything into his pocket when he suddenly heard the bathroom door opening.

Startled, he quickly put everything back into the wallet, placed it back in its previous place, and returned to the bathroom door completely unnoticed.

As Seiji finished, he grabbed a towel and opened the door to find Hideaki standing there, looking even more miserable than before.

"Finally!" Hideaki exclaimed impatiently, but at the back of his mind, he was annoyed that his premeditated theft had failed...

Without a word, Seiji handed him a towel and shampoo, watching as Hideaki slunk into the bathroom.

Seiji returned to the living room and turned on the TV, flipping through channels with little interest.

Suddenly, the news caught his attention - a report of two escaped prisoners, one of them a notorious and particularly dangerous killer with a rare Magic Ability - Blood Control.

"The names of the two escapees and police contact information are displayed on the screen..." the news presenter reported.

At that moment, Seiji froze, his stomach dropped when he saw the mugshot. "No way..." he whispered. He read it again to make sure he was seeing the text correctly...

"But this... This is HIM. It's... that guy I saved today!" he was shocked "Are you telling me that... I HAVE A REAL WANTED SERIAL KILLER IN MY HOUSE!?!?!?"

Seiji quickly looked at the photos of the fugitives shown on the TV screen.

Everything matched.

"You've got to be kidding me..." Seiji muttered, running a hand down his face, then pressed his fingers against his temple as his mind raced.
"So I was right. Judging by the blood and his expression... A kill count wasn't far-fetched after all. That bloodied knife... makes perfect sense now.. But... It's impossible... This isn't real. I... I miscalculated. I thought he was just some unstable, lost, desperate drifter. Not a real dangerous criminal!"

Seiji stared at the screen, processing the realization that the dangerous man currently showering in his bathroom was not only a serial killer — but a highly dangerous one, sought after by the police.

"Of all the people I could've taken in..." He quickly shut off the TV, his mind racing. Panic threatened to creep in, but he shoved it aside.

Hideaki emerged from the bathroom, looking slightly less feral in Seiji's borrowed clothes. He collapsed onto the couch, exhausted, his wet hair soaking into the pillow. Seiji quickly got up from the couch and looked at him with fear.

Even though he was very weak and looked fragile, he was still someone who aimed to cause brutal harm to Seiji and other Tokyo residents.

'Such a small guy... and he has a huge body count! And on top of that... wait a moment... are those my clothes!?'

Seiji couldn't help but watch him, the weight of what he'd just learned settling heavily.

'I still can't believe that I have a real serial killer at my flat! It's- it's actually... Something I should report!'

His eyes flicked toward his phone.

'I just need to dial three numbers. It's simple. It's logical. It's the right thing to do...'

Suddenly in that moment, his inner monologue was interrupted by the loud sound of the snoring.

'Has he fallen asleep already? Well... That was fast...'  he analyzed surprised.

Suddenly, Hideaki unconsciously snuggled into the pillow, and with that, continued snoring.

For a moment, Seiji just stood there. Then, slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

"Quickly, before he wakes up..." he muttered under his breath.

His fingers hovered over the call icon after dialing the number.

But then he stopped.

His gaze drifted from the screen to the couch.

'I wanted to die,' he thought, his jaw tightening. 'I brought him in because I saw it as a way out.'

He lowered the phone slowly and slipped it back into his pocket.

'We made a deal... he'd kill me.'

He stared again at the screen, the number still there. His thumb twitched.

'If I call this in... they'll take him away. And then... that option's gone.'

A bitter breath escaped his lips. 'But in such state...'

He gazed at Hideaki's thin arms.

Seiji sighed seeing how hopeless and exhausted he was.

'Well... He won't do it anytime soon... He's not capable with such slim frame. He looks exhausted as ever. He probably won't even be able to get up from the couch before-' 

Another loud snore interrupted him.

He took one last glance at his phone, as if silently weighing the consequences once more. But all he saw now was a half-dead man curled up like a stray mutt.

'He's no danger. Not like this... He can't even hold a knife right now... let alone kill anyone.'

Logic dictated only one course of action now.

'I'll take care of him. As I said. And when he'll be in better shape, he will kill me. That's the plan.'

As he prepared to head to his bedroom, he cast a final glance at the sleeping murderer, who was peacefully snoring. He noticed that he was completely uncovered.

After a moment's hesitation, Seiji grabbed the blanket and covered him. 'He'll catch a cold and be even more useless if he doesn't sleep properly.'

Sighing, Seiji walked back to his own room, mentally and physically drained.

He looked at his phone, "What time is it..." he asked himself.

22:02

"It's still not my sleeping hours and I'm already exhausted... Eh, I guess I'll go to bed earlier tonight... I have to go to work again tomorrow..." He sighed. 'Even though I wanted to be killed... I hope I won't be murdered during the night...'

He set his alarm and stared at the ceiling, mulling over his situation.

He yawned, closing his eyes as the rain pattered softly outside. "I'm really too good at picking the worst people to help..." he added sarcastically.

With that, Seiji drifted into sleep, hoping that by morning, his new homicidal housemate would still be asleep - and not standing over him with a knife. Yet.