𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐚 [𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞] ✓

chapter 4: onigiri boy

note:

non-canon: 'tara' in japanese means 'cod' but can also represent something that inumaki likes

━━༻❁༺━━

INUMAKI WAS SURPRISED, to say the least, when he saw you and not Ieiri-san walk into his room.

He noticed the heavy hesitation in your movements as you entered, and shifted awkwardly in his bed, sitting up and looking at you, not meeting your eyes fully.

You stiffened. I wonder if he's scared of my technique. He's being awfully quiet. You thought not that he spoke much to begin with.

"G-good afternoon." You managed, walking a little further into the room.

Inumaki nodded. "Kombu."

You gulped. This was too awkward. "May I... sit here?" You pointed to a chair next to his bed. He nodded.

You sat down without exploding much trouble and stared at Inumaki. He was not looking at you, so you were able to observe him without being weird.

He wasn't wearing his jacket over his face like usual and your eyes lingered for a few moments on the inked design that was etched on either side of his lips — you found yourself staring not-so-discreetly at the boy, which he seemed to picked up on.

He stared back, looking straight into your eyes. You felt as though his gaze would bore right through your skull (even through the glasses) by how scorching it was. Your cheeks turned a light shade of red and you looked away suddenly.

"How... how are you feeling?" You asked, fiddling with your fingers.

He shrugged. "Takana." He said, nonchalantly. His voice was hoarse, like he'd just been screaming for hours non-stop.

You grimaced and took a deep breath. "Look, I wanted to apologize." The boy tilted his head in confusion. You continued. "I was the one who pushed Inumaki-san into using your cursed technique against that spirit. It... almost got you killed."

You tried to keep your voice level, but even you could make out the waver in your tone. You gripped the sheets of the bed tightly, and closed your eyes, afraid that if you opened them, tears would stream out endlessly until you were completely dry.

Inumaki didn't reply, and you were scared what his expression held if you looked at him. Your thoughts were interrupted, however, by a warm hand placed over your own.

You looked up in surprise to see Inumaki with his eyebrows furrowed in frustration, his palm cupped over your clenched fist. "Okaka." He said sternly, shaking his head.

The boy's voice was soft but firm, and you tilted your head at the word.

"Okaka." He said again, a small pout forming on his lips. You were surprised by his double answer. He sighed and tried to express his point. When he couldn't find any onigiri-ingredients to use, he grabbed his phone from the bed-side table.

There is nothing to apologize for. So stop blaming yourself.

You read the message that he had typed before locking eyes with the boy. His eyebrows had returned to their relaxed position and he tried a small private smile at you — as reassurance.

You sighed and nodded. "Is Inumaki-san not — uh, I don't know — scared... of my cursed technique?" You bit your lip and looked away. "That almost got you killed, too."

The image of petrified silver replacing the ivory-pale of Inumaki's skin flashed in your head. You grimaced.

A reply from the boy wasn't heard, but he held up his phone after typing up a message.