Can a misanthrope have a harem?

The apartment smelled faintly of jasmine from the small diffuser on the shelf. The hum of the city outside was muted by the thick curtains, wrapping the room in an almost cocoon-like quiet.

Mahiru was already settled on the couch, propped up on an elbow, her hair tousled from the night's earlier closeness. Aiko stood in the small kitchen area, carefully reheating leftovers on the stove. Alya perched on a stool by the counter, watching him with those sharp golden eyes, the faintest smile playing at her lips.

"So," Alya said, tilting her head, "you cook?"

Aiko gave a half-smile, stirring the sauce. "I manage. Not exactly gourmet."

Mahiru snorted softly from the couch. "He's modest. His cooking isn't bad. It's… serviceable."

Alya raised an eyebrow. "Serviceable? I'll be the judge of that."

Aiko chuckled, setting the plates on the low table by the couch. "Well, I'm glad we have the food critic here to keep me in check."

Mahiru shifted, patting the space beside her. "Come on, sit. Eat before it gets cold."

Alya stood and moved over, slipping onto the couch between Mahiru and Aiko. The three of them settled into an easy but deliberate closeness, the kind that felt familiar but carried subtle currents beneath.

For a moment, the only sounds were the quiet scrape of forks against plates and the occasional sigh.

Aiko glanced at Mahiru, catching the way her eyes softened when she looked at him. He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She leaned into the touch, her fingers curling lightly over his hand.

Alya watched this with a quiet intensity, her gaze flicking between them. When she spoke again, her voice was low, casual but edged with something sharper.

"You two have history. I can see it. It's… not easy to miss."

Mahiru's eyes met Alya's, steady and unflinching. "No. It's not."

Aiko swallowed, feeling the tension thicken, but also a strange comfort in the unspoken understanding.

Alya leaned back slightly, folding her arms. "And yet here we are. All of us. Together."

Mahiru gave a soft, almost reluctant smile. "That's what makes it complicated."

Aiko looked between them. "Complicated is one word for it."

They ate in a slow rhythm, the night deepening around them. The words they didn't say hung in the air, heavier with each passing moment.

"You know," Alya began, voice casual but pointed, "it's funny how some people are so quick to play the protector."

Mahiru's eyes narrowed slightly, but her posture stayed calm. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

Alya smiled, a slow, knowing smile. "Oh, come on. We both know it's not just about looking out for me. It's about keeping an eye on me. Making sure I don't get too close to… him."

Mahiru's hand tightened briefly on the couch cushion. "You're projecting."

Aiko swallowed hard, feeling the temperature in the room shift. He glanced between them, sensing the subtle clash but unsure how to intervene.

Alya's tone sharpened, though her smile never faltered. "Am I? Or am I just calling out what everyone's thinking? You're his neighbor, after all. Conveniently close."

Mahiru's gaze was steady, unyielding. "I'm close because I care. And if you think that's a threat, maybe you should look inward."

The air felt charged now, the friendly warmth replaced by something taut, like a wire stretched too tight.

Aiko finally cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Enough. This isn't what tonight's about."

Both girls turned toward him, their expressions softening slightly, but the edge still there.

Alya gave him a quick, almost teasing glance. "Fine. For now."

Mahiru nodded slowly. "For now."

Aiko let out a slow breath, the tight knot in his chest loosening just a little. He looked down at his hands folded in his lap, watching the way the soft lamplight caught the lines and shadows there.

For a while, no one spoke.

Mahiru's gaze softened as she reached out, her fingers brushing lightly over his. The touch was gentle, almost tentative, an unspoken offer of calm.

Alya leaned back, her usual smirk replaced by something quieter, more thoughtful. She traced absent patterns on the table's surface with her fingertip, eyes distant but present.

The room felt smaller somehow, more intimate, the noise of the outside world falling away.

Aiko met their eyes one by one, finding in their faces the same mixture of uncertainty and hope that mirrored his own.

"I don't want to lose this," he said finally, voice low. "Even if it's complicated. Even if it's hard."

Mahiru squeezed his hand gently. "You won't. We're here. With you."

Alya's smile returned, soft, real. "We'll figure it out. One day at a time."

Aiko sank a little deeper into the couch, the warmth from Mahiru's hand still lingering. He glanced at Alya, who had pulled her knees up, resting her chin lightly on them, her gaze thoughtful in the dim light.

For a long moment, none of them spoke. Words felt unnecessary, even risky, like breaking the spell might shatter the fragile trust that had begun to form.

Finally, Mahiru's voice came, soft and steady. "You know, it's rare. Finding a moment like this."

Aiko looked up, curious. "What do you mean?"

Mahiru smiled faintly, a quiet light behind her eyes. "Where it's not about fights, secrets, or expectations. Just… this. Being here. Together."

Alya nodded slowly, her usual sharp edge softened. "Yeah. It's like we're carving out a small space where the world's noise can't reach us."

Aiko exhaled, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. "I haven't felt that in a long time. Not with anyone."

Mahiru's fingers traced a gentle line on his wrist. "Maybe that's because you've been carrying too much alone."

Alya's eyes met his, steady and warm. "You don't have to anymore."

The words hung between them, simple, but heavy with promise.

The silence stretched comfortably for a while, broken only by the faint ticking of the clock on the wall.

Aiko shifted, running a hand through his hair as he looked down at the worn fabric of the couch.

"I guess…" he began slowly, voice low, "I'm scared. Scared that no matter what I do, things will just… repeat. That I'm trapped in some story I can't change."

Mahiru's gaze softened, and she squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I get that. Sometimes it feels like the past has too much hold on us. Like no matter how far we run, it's still waiting."

Alya leaned forward, her eyes glinting in the dim light. "But maybe that's the thing, maybe it's not about running from the story, but rewriting it. Finding the parts we get to choose."

Aiko looked up, meeting their eyes. "And what if the parts I want to choose don't make sense to anyone else? What if they're wrong?"

Mahiru smiled gently. "Then we'll make sense of it together. Sometimes, the only way to break a cycle is to trust in the people who choose to stand by you, even when the path is unclear."

Alya nodded. "Hope isn't about knowing the ending. It's about daring to turn the page anyway."

Aiko felt a warmth spread through his chest, a fragile but fierce light flickering in the dark.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "For staying. For believing, even when I don't."

Mahiru's voice was soft but steady. "We believe in you. Because you're worth it."

Alya's usual smirk softened into something genuine. "And because we're not giving up."

For a moment, none of them spoke. Just the gentle hum of the city beyond the window, and the steady rhythm of breathing.

Finally, Aiko broke the silence. "I don't usually feel like this. Like I'm... allowed to be uncertain. Or scared."

Mahiru glanced at him, her eyes kind. "It's okay to be scared. It means you're human."

Alya nodded. "Fear's just one part of the story. It doesn't have to be the ending."

Aiko swallowed, his voice quieter now. "Sometimes I'm afraid I'm broken. That I'm... too much of a mess for anyone to want to stay."

Mahiru's hand found his again, squeezing gently. "We're not here because you're perfect. We're here because you're real."

Alya leaned forward, her gaze sharp but sincere. "Messy is part of what makes you, you. And we don't want anything less."

Aiko looked between them, feeling something fragile and new settling deep inside, a flicker of trust he hadn't thought he'd have again.

"I don't know what comes next," he admitted. "But... maybe it's okay to take it one step at a time. With you."

Mahiru smiled softly. "That's all anyone can ask for."

Alya grinned, that familiar spark returning. "One step at a time, huh? Sounds like a plan."

"You should cut your hair," Mahiru said gently, voice low. "It hides you too much."

Aiko glanced up, surprised. "I'm not really… noticeable."

Mahiru smiled, brushing a loose strand behind his ear. "You're wrong."

Before he could answer, she leaned in and pressed a brief, warm kiss to his temple. The touch was fleeting but filled with something deep, reassurance, care, an unspoken promise.

Aiko's breath hitched.

"ТЫ!- СВОЛОЧЬ!"

Alya's voice suddenly pierced the quiet, sharp and vibrant. She tossed her hands in the air, her words flowing fast in Russian, a rant full of frustration and passion that neither Mahiru nor Aiko fully understood, but the tone was unmistakable: protective, fiery, and fiercely territorial.

Mahiru narrowed her eyes, smirking. "Sounds like someone's jealous."

Alya shot her a look, but the corners of her lips twitched with a reluctant smile.

Aiko blinked between them. "Uh… what did I miss?"

Alya crossed her arms, her voice shifting to English, teasing and sharp. "I'm just saying, you can't keep hiding behind that mop of hair and those glasses. It's like you're trying to be invisible."

Mahiru laughed quietly. "Maybe he likes being mysterious."

Alya smirked. "Mysterious? More like hiding. I'm not having that."

Mahiru stepped forward, a playful challenge in her eyes. "And what are you gonna do about it?"

The air thickened with their playful tension as Alya and Mahiru circled each other, their teasing banter bouncing between Russian and English, punctuated with quick smiles and narrowed eyes.

Aiko watched, amused and slightly overwhelmed, but warmth bloomed in his chest.

Then, in one swift move, Alya broke the mock duel, stepping close, her voice dropping low, almost daring.

"And you," she said, turning to Aiko, "need to stop thinking you're invisible."

Before he could reply, Alya reached up and kissed him, soft but bold, lips brushing his with a confident heat that left him breathless.

Mahiru's eyes softened, but her smile widened, as if in approval of the moment.

Aiko's heart thundered, the world narrowing to the warmth of their lips and the playful, fierce love simmering just beneath the surface.

Alya pulled back just slightly, her breath mingling with his. Her golden eyes locked onto his, fierce yet inviting.

"See? You're not invisible," she teased, a playful challenge in her tone.

Aiko's cheeks flushed, caught between shock and something warmer, a feeling he rarely let himself entertain. He glanced toward Mahiru, who was watching with that quiet, steady smile, like she'd been waiting for this all along.

Mahiru stepped forward, her hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from Aiko's forehead, her touch gentle but grounding.

"You're allowed to be seen," she said softly, voice steady and sure. "By us. By me."

Aiko swallowed hard, the rush of emotions twisting inside him, surprise, comfort, and a hesitant hope.

The room felt smaller now, the space between the three of them charged but safe. Alya nudged him gently with her shoulder, breaking the intensity with a sly grin.

"Don't get too comfortable," she warned with a smirk, "or you might start thinking you belong here."

Mahiru laughed softly, a sound like warm sunlight, and sat down on the couch, patting the seat beside her.

"Come on, sit," she invited. "Let's not scare him off just yet."

Aiko hesitated, then allowed himself to settle between them. Alya flopped down on his other side, still radiating that untamed energy, while Mahiru's presence was calm and reassuring.

For a long moment, none of them spoke. The quiet wasn't awkward, it felt like an unspoken agreement, a fragile truce between their different strengths and desires.

Aiko's fingers tightened slightly around Mahiru's hand, and his gaze drifted downward, eyes distant.

"There was a night," he began quietly, "a few years ago. Before all this… before I even understood what was happening to me. I was alone. Completely."

He swallowed hard, the memory raw and sharp.

"I remember sitting on a bench outside my apartment building, just staring at the sky. The stars were out, but I felt nothing but cold."

Mahiru's thumb traced small circles against his skin, steadying him.

"I was scared I'd never find a place to belong. That every time I started to feel something, hope, trust, it would just… slip away."

Alya's usual fiery gaze softened, and she shifted closer, her voice low.

"We all have those nights, even if we don't admit it."

Aiko looked up, eyes meeting hers.

"But what if it's different this time?" he whispered. "What if the fear isn't just about losing myself, but about losing you?"

Mahiru's smile faltered, just for a moment, a flicker of something unspoken crossing her features.

Alya's jaw tightened imperceptibly, the playful edge in her voice returning. "That's the catch, isn't it? Trust means risking everything."

For a heartbeat, the room seemed to hold its breath.

Then Mahiru said softly, "But it's a risk worth taking."

Aiko exhaled slowly, the weight easing, if only a little.

He glanced between them, between the fierce protectiveness in Alya's eyes and the calm reassurance in Mahiru's, and felt the fragile beginnings of something stronger than fear.

Something like hope.

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Planning to release another fanfic "That Girl From Random Chatting".

Thanks for reading. You can also give me ideas for the future or pinpoint plot holes that I may have forgotten, if you want.