Saikyō || The Strongest, Book 2
"That girl you fell in love with," I started, feeling Satoru's attention immediately shift to me. "What was she like?"
I could see his eyes visibly soften at the mention of his first love. "She's something even my inf...
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I watched as the woman choked on her own blood, streaks of the lush liquid spilling from her lips and painting her cheeks with the bright cardinal color. Her eyes bulged, glare directed to me. "What do you think you are you doing?! Where's Sato-"
I adducted my foot, setting free a discolored patch of skin from the pressure of my heel. My hand had already found her chin before she could finish Satoru's name, crushing her jaw between my thumb and index as a warning. "You don't say his name in front of me."
The woman winced. Her lips were quivering, irises trembling and unfocused. "Why... why do you do this?"
I thought I had already reached the limit to the indignation I was feeling, but the damned woman managed to push my buttons even further. As if taking Satoru wasn't enough. Fury made my spine tingle.
"Why?," I repeated, applauding the lowlife's audacity to ask. "Why do I do this?"
Things I had been agonizing about, praying for, and wishing to experience were taken away from me in the blink of an eye. Right in front of me.
"Let me go!" The face I had been looking at for years in the mirror was now squirming in anguish by my own hand. She shut her eyes tightly, let out a throaty cry, and tried to resist the assault by prying my hand off her inflamed jaw. "Why are you... doing this?!"
"Why shouldn't I do this?," I asked. Honestly.
Why shouldn't I be doing this when no one even asked me what they could be doing to me?
Everything was taken against my will, was that not enough?
"Do you like Sato-"
A crooked smile hung upon my lips while my hand traveled down her neck, clamping on the soft, white skin and watching as the surrounding flesh swelled from my tightness of my grip. I couldn't care any less if blood smeared on the ivory sleeves of my kimono.
But then, my eyes caught sight of a fresh bloom embedded on her skin. My brows strung together when I tilted my head to assess it. And indeed, I was not mistaken.
It was a kiss mark.
Did... Satoru do this?
What they did exactly- I didn't know. But millions of knives seemed to have stabbed themselves on my chest. It was so painful I couldn't even get a second to dwell on my loss.
The thought of his hands touching another ripped away any composure I had, my peace torn into pieces. It was as if hell decided to resurface and dwell in my chest as I stood aflame with wrath.
The other part of me who had settled happily in hearing Satoru's loyalty to me awoke, her contentment now devoured by ill humor.
This woman had already taken everything from me for reasons I could not even fathom. I was cautious not to get into altercations with anyone, be it humans or curses, to protect myself and my identity- only for it to be destroyed by some newcomer who could not even portray me well.
