BLOOM [OHSHC]

Chapter 12 - Boundaries

🏵

Black ski masks.

The glint of silver through closet doors.

Ragged breaths.

The rustle of struggling against the tarp on the floor.

BANG.

The tears. The tears.

The tears.

🏵

I woke in a cold sweat.

A hand gripped mine in the dark, and I startled, unable to see who it was without light or my glasses.

Still trapped in the dregs of my dream, I worried it was them. That it was him. That, after all these years, they were back for more.

"It's me, Michiyo," Kyoya whispered. I heard him fumbling around nearby, and he muttered, "It's okay, you're safe." Unbeknownst to me, he eyed my heaving chest, my wild eyes, the sheen of sweat across my forehead. He squeezed my hand reassuringly. "You were having a nightmare."

Sighing, I relaxed against my pillow and shoved my glasses on once Kyoya pressed them into my palm. "What time is it?" I murmured. The dark of the room had me thinking it was still the slippery, strange hours of night.

Kyoya checked his tablet with his free hand. "Nearly six."

An involuntary twitch rolled through me, making me grip Kyoya's hand a little harder, forcing me to remember his warm palm in mine. I managed a few deep inhales and exhales, slowing my erratic lungs and anchoring me to the present as the dream slipped away like morning fog. I rolled toward him, heart still pounding, and forced a weak smile. "Want to help me make breakfast?"

"Not sure how much help I can be," Kyoya yawned, "But... I suppose."

The two of us extricated ourselves from our blanket nest on the floor, careful not to disturb the rest of our friends, and shuffled to the kitchen. Kyoya hovered near the door while I began getting out the ingredients for homemade crepes (because I had some bougie-ass boys on my hands). He looked helplessly lost. "You don't cook," I said, more an observation than a question.

"Not really," he yawned, covering his mouth with a polite hand. "Never needed to."

A pang of jealousy shot through me, and I laughed dryly as I set the coffee pot and began to measure out ingredients. "Count yourself lucky, then," I mumbled to myself. "D'you like crepes?"

"Of course," Kyoya shrugged, eyeing the mountain of ingredients beside me. "Are... Is that what you're making?"

"No, no. That's what we're making, Kyoya," I amended, shooting him a wink as I pulled my hair up into a messy bun. "Get your skinny ass over here and help me. I'm teaching you something new today, kid."

"Kid? Michiyo, I assure you, I-"

"Shhhh," I grinned, dancing over and taking Kyoya's hand, pulling him deeper into the kitchen, "Let Mommy Michiyo do the talking now." I pressed a finger to his lips, locking my eyes with his. "Can you listen for a bit? Want to learn something real neat?"

For a long beat of silence, Kyoya said nothing but stared back at me with his gunmetal gray eyes. With a resigned sigh, he nodded, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Excellent. You're already an exceptional student, Kyoya, I can tell," I smirked, booping him on the nose as I spun away to fetch us aprons from the cupboard. Without a word, I looped his over his head and tied it for him before doing my own. "Now...