Crossover: The Curse and the Desire

The purple light reflected off the bottom of the plastic cup as Utaha swirled the liquid slowly. The cheap soda was warm. But she wasn't drinking out of thirst—it was just motion, an automatic gesture to avoid directly facing what Tomoya was saying.

"…so that's the idea. A slow, quiet romance. Just two characters. Her and him. The game starts with the girl sitting near the cherry blossom tree… alone."

Tomoya gestured with his hands as if shaping the concept in the air. His eyes gleamed with rehearsed excitement, his voice steady but laced with something deeper. A restrained obsession.

Utaha didn't respond right away.

She took a small sip.

The fizz was nearly gone.

"Let me get this straight…"

She swirled the cup once more before looking at Tomoya, her expression neutral.

"…you want to write a romance story where the protagonist is inspired by Megumi Katō."

The name cut like a well-sharpened blade—subtle but precise.

Tomoya hesitated for a second. Just long enough for Eriri, seated beside him, to shift her weight and pretend to fiddle with the tablet holding her character sketches.

"It's not… inspired, exactly. It's more… a vibe. Her demeanor. Her presence. You know."

Utaha tilted her head slightly.

"She's Yuta's girlfriend, right?"

The question wasn't an accusation. But it carried the subtle venom of a pointed observation.

Tomoya frowned.

"Yeah. But that's irrelevant. I just thought she has a… strong presence. She's quiet, but you feel her there. And the story needed that. A girl who, even in her silence, carries the weight of something the player only understands later."

Eriri finally spoke, without looking up.

"I can draw something with that feeling. Simple clothes, minimal hair details… I think the charm's in the subtlety."

Utaha said nothing at first.

But inside, the warning was clear.

Tomoya didn't like Yuta. He'd said so outright. Yet he wants to write about his girlfriend?

She leaned back into the sofa, cup still in hand, eyes fixed on the blank karaoke screen.

"You talk like you're trying to understand her, not create a character."

The silence that followed was different.

Heavier.

Tomoya tried to smile.

"It's not like that. You know how it works. Inspiration comes from everywhere."

"Sure."

Utaha set the cup on the table.

"But it usually doesn't come from girls dating guys you called unstable."

Eriri stopped sketching.

Tomoya went silent.

For a moment, the room felt smaller.

Utaha crossed her legs slowly. Her eyes narrowed, her face too calm.

"You hate Yuta, but you want to turn his girlfriend into the heroine of your game."

The statement was simple. But there was no softness in it.

"Is that art… or projection?"

Tomoya swallowed hard before answering. He shifted in his chair, as if posture could lessen the weight of her words.

"I had this idea before they started dating."

His voice came out more defensive than he intended. He noticed and tried to soften it.

"And besides… Megumi's her own person. She's not anyone's property."

Utaha raised an eyebrow slightly. The statement didn't surprise her. It was classic Tomoya when he felt too exposed.

"True. She's her own person."

She picked up the cup again. Swirled the liquid at the bottom but didn't drink.

"But you talk about her like you're still hoping she'll notice you."

Eriri glanced up from her tablet.

"That's not it, Utaha."

Her tone was diplomatic. Forced, but useful.

"He just wants to use what works. And Megumi has… a good aesthetic. It fits the character."

Utaha turned her head slowly, holding Eriri's gaze for two seconds.

"You also think it's just about aesthetics?"

Eriri held her stare firmly but looked away a moment later.

"It works for the game. That's all."

Tomoya jumped back in, more composed.

"It's not like I'm turning real life into a script. The character will have a different name, a different story. I just… started writing from a mental image. And that image was her, by the cherry blossom tree, sitting, with that look of… emotional distance."

Utaha listened without interrupting.

When he finished, she finally drank the rest of the soda.

The silence lasted three seconds.

Then she leaned forward. Her voice came low, but sharp.

"You had the idea before… but you only started writing after she got with him."

Tomoya opened his mouth to protest, but his throat failed him.

Eriri touched his arm lightly. A warning gesture.

Tomoya took a slow breath. The air felt heavier than it should.

"…Why are you coming at me like this?"

The question was calmer than he expected. But no less genuine.

"You seemed ready to help. When we talked at school, you were excited. Almost… happy."

Utaha didn't answer right away. She just stared at the empty cup on the table, as if it could offer a better response than her own memory.

Tomoya pressed on.

"I know I have issues. That I sometimes mix things up. But you've always understood that."

Eriri turned her face, uncomfortable, but didn't intervene.

Utaha exhaled through her nose. Then shifted her body slightly, without standing.

"I did understand."

Her voice was restrained, but not cold.

"I just didn't understand enough."

Tomoya frowned.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Utaha met his eyes again. This time, unfiltered.

"You gave me something, Tomoya."

His eyes widened for a split second. His mind jumped to the pendrive.

But she didn't say it out loud.

"You gave me… a reason to think more clearly. And sometimes, clarity is cruel."

Tomoya looked away, swallowing hard.

Utaha rested her arm on the chair's backrest.

"You asked for my help… and then tried to pull me away from Yuta."

"I didn't—"

"Not with words. But with that usual way of yours. Comments about who he is, assumptions about danger, about mistrust. Like it's your job to protect me from someone you barely know."

Eriri remained still, watching the exchange with visible tension in her hands on the tablet.

Utaha leaned forward again, her voice low but firm.

"And now… you want to use his girlfriend as the basis for your perfect heroine."

Tomoya clenched his fists on his knees.

"You're seeing things that aren't there."

"Maybe."

She stood, slower than before. Her eyes still locked on him.

"But it's strange, Tomoya. Don't you see how everything you do revolves around trying to… make up for something?"

He didn't answer.

Didn't even try.

Utaha adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

"And you know the worst part?"

Tomoya lifted his tired eyes.

"Even after all this… I'd still write that script. Because it's good."

She turned toward the door.

"But don't expect me to forget where it came from."

And she left.

This time, without hurry.

Leaving behind more than silence—a disquieting mirror exposed in the room.

Eriri's lips moved, but she gave up on speaking.

Tomoya just stared at the blank karaoke monitor.

And for the first time, he saw his own reflection there.

His face was tense. Faint dark circles under his eyes, his mouth slightly open as if searching for an answer that wouldn't come.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His fingers clasped tightly.

'What happened…?'

The question echoed in his mind, bouncing off its corners and returning emptier each time.

When they'd talked at school, Utaha seemed ready for anything. They'd discussed restarting the project. She listened, contributed, even suggested names for the protagonist that same afternoon.

She seemed willing. She seemed his.

Now…

Now she spoke as if he were the villain of his own story.

Eriri watched him silently. Her body was relaxed, but her eyes carried the unease of someone who knows the creative space has been pushed past its limits.

Tomoya didn't notice.

He was too trapped in his own thoughts.

'The change came after I left her classroom.'

The image formed clearly.

Yuta and Utaha, side by side at the school's exit.

Her hurrying out of the room, breathing harder than she should.

Him there, like a constant.

'It was after that she changed. After him.'

Yuta.

Megumi's boyfriend.

Silent, detached, and yet… at the center of everything.

Tomoya closed his eyes for a moment.

Wasn't it enough that Megumi liked him?

Now it seemed Utaha was under some influence too.

He wasn't naive. He saw the way she looked, the silences too heavy to be neutral.

'Did… he do something to her?'

The thought sprang up suddenly.

It didn't make complete sense, but it was too real to ignore. Utaha wasn't one to shift moods without reason. Nor to accuse without basis.

Tomoya gripped his fingers tighter.

'She's enchanted by him.'

The realization hit like a punch to the gut. And the worst part was… there was nothing he could do about it.

Yuta said nothing, yet got everything.

And he, who fought for every word, every collaboration, every line…

…was left with scraps.

Eriri finally moved.

"Tomoya…"

Her voice was soft but direct.

"If you want… I'll stick with you on this project. Even if Utaha bails."

Tomoya looked up. Met her eyes. Steady. Unwavering.

"Thanks."

He answered with sincerity.

But inside, another phrase echoed.

'If I want this to work… I'll have to get Yuta out of the way.'

Bonus Chapter Available!

Enjoying my work on "The curse and the Desire," "DXD: The Awakening of Phenex," or "Reincarnation in Smallville"?

Then I have a surprise for you!

By supporting me on Patreon, you'll gain access to exclusive bonus chapters, behind-the-scenes content, and much more.

Your support means the world to me and helps me keep writing the stories you love.

Support here: patreon.com/22Mirko22

Thank you so much for reading — see you in the next chapter!