Romantic Killer But I Made It Gay

Part 89

"Alright, Mori, you can leave once you finish cleaning that up!" the manager calls.

"Sure," I reply, then go back to cleaning.
Hijiri watches me halfheartedly scrub the counter with a frown.

"Mori, it's not like you to be down. What is it?"

"Wait, it's not?" I wonder. I thought I spent a lot of time sad down at work. Maybe I look happier when I get into the groove, or maybe he's used to me being happy when we're hanging out. Gah, it pisses me off that I tend to have fun when I'm with him.

"So you admit you are down," Hijiri presses and I sigh.

"You really need to lay off sometime."

"I don't know what that means, but there's no one here right now, so I'll listen to whatever you have to say."

"How kind of you." I turn back to cleaning, trying to place my words correctly. "I...I want to help a friend who's in a rough place, but I don't know how. I feel like I've offered all I can, which...isn't a lot, I guess."

"I don't think so," he interrupts thoughtfully. "I think if you're there with that friend, I think that's enough for them."

"Just...being there?" I think back to yesterday. After I got home I told him what happened over text, and I found he'd texted me more than just that once, each one sounding more and more worried. It felt really nice, knowing he was thinking about me and showing support in his own way. Is it that way for Tsukasa? Is being with him...really enough?

"I'm not telling you this to be all sweet and kind, or anything," he remembers to add at the end. "It's just my personal opinion."

I hold up a hand. "Please don't go all tsundere on me again. Ikeda's not even here."

He groans, walking or from behind the counter and grabbing a box of cup noodles. "I'm stocking the shelves. You finish up here and then go home."

You say that but you're blushing, I think sarcastically, turning back to my work. Once I'm done I change and exit the building. Walking through the streets at night has never been my favorite thing to do, but now, knowing Yukana's out there, I feel even more...fine. I'm fine. That's right, I'm not terrified at all.

I absentmindedly pat my pocket for my phone, but my hand hits nothing. I feel the normal panic of losing a phone rise in my chest as I search through every pocket on me but find nothing. This, as well, is fine. I'm sure I just left it at work. It's a pain, but at least it's not completely gone.

I turn to start back but my path is blocked by two huge high schoolers, one wearing an awful striped purple shirt and the other a sleeveless orange one, both glaring down at me.

I laugh nervously, trying to edge by the purple one. "Scuse me, I need to get—"

"Oho, you're not going anywhere." He grabs my arm in a vice-like grip and starts dragging me down the nearest alleyway.

"Hey! Get off!" I dig my feet into the ground but he keeps going, pulling me off them. I almost faceplant into the concrete but his hand doesn't waver and he drags me along. I get to my feet and try to undo his grip on my arm, but I might as well be a flea trying to tickle him.

It's just like before. My heart pounds in my throat. I'm sick and tired of being terrified; it feels like all I've done lately is be scared, but I can't help it. Being cornered by boys bigger than you, who want to hurt you...It would terrify anyone, but especially me. Immediately I revert to ten year old me, shivering and afraid, backed into a corner, ready to get beat up.

I set my gaze. No. I've grown up. If I want to prove I'm strong to Tsukasa, I have to be strong everywhere.

I kick the boy holding me in the shin, making him yell in pain but not let go like I was hoping. Instead he turns on me, raising his other hand in a fist. I close my eyes, praying I can dissociate, that this can all be over soon.