♡Chapter-4♡

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Your point of view.

"From now on, your mine to deal with, got it?"

"What?" I blinked, disbelief plastered across my face. My voice came out sharper than intended, but I couldn't help it. He didn't bother to elaborate. Instead, he turned and began walking toward the other side, as if nothing outrageous had just left his mouth.

"Are you the one running these matches?" He asked, his voice calm as he approached Kiyomasa, who was still hunched over, clutching his stomach. "Y-yes." He stammered, barely able to meet Mikey's gaze.

Mikey tilted his head, offering a deceptively sweet smile. Then, with no warning, his foot connected with Kiyomasa's face, the impact sending him staggering back. Gasps echoed around us as Kiyomasa collapsed to the ground, barely holding on to consciousness.

My breath caught in my throat. That was.. unexpected.

Mikey crouched down, his hand gripping Kiyomasa's collar as he yanked him upward. "Who the hell do you think you are?" Without waiting for a response, his fist connected with Kiyomasa's face. Once, twice, three times.

The sound of fists meeting flesh was deafening in the otherwise silent crowd. No one moved and no one dared to intervene. I stared, frozen in place, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing.

When Kiyomasa finally went limp, collapsing to the ground in a heap, Mikey stood over him, his boot pressing against Kiyomasa's face with a terrifying ease. "Pathetic." Mikey muttered, his voice devoid of emotion.

He turned his head slightly, his eyes landing on me. I stiffened. His gaze wasn't just intense, it felt suffocating. Swallowing hard, I quickly turned away, pretending I hadn't noticed, and made my way over to Takemichi. "Come on." I said quietly, holding my palm to help him stand.

"T-thank you, Y/n-san." He murmured, gripping my hand for support as he stood. But I could still feel Mikey's gaze burning into me.

Risking a glance over my shoulder, I found him still watching me, his expression unreadable. A few drops of blood stained his face.

"Y/n-san, please don't do anything rash." Takemichi whispered, his grip tightening on my sleeve.

"Obviously not, dumbass." I muttered, forcing myself to look away from Mikey.
"I'm not stupid enough to pick a fight with him."

Draken's voice cut through the tense atmosphere. "Showtime's over, idiots. Get out of here and go home." He ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Don't go around ruining Toman's name."

The crowd scattered like leaves in the wind, too terrified to stick around any longer.

"See you later, Y/n-chin. Takemitchy." Mikey called out casually, turning away. But before he left, he tossed one last smirk over his shoulder, his gaze locking onto mine for a fleeting moment.

My eyes stayed glued to his retreating frame until he disappeared into the distance. My fists clenched at my sides, my annoyance bubbling under the surface.

Just who the hell does he think he is?

"I'm so sorry, Y/n-san." Takemichi muttered, bowing deeply. His voice cracked slightly, guilt etched into his words. "I shouldn't have told him your name. I didn't mean to drag you into this mess."

"It's fine, takemichi." I said with a wave of my hand. "There was nothing else you could've done except obey him. It's not like you had a choice."

      ________ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ________

Opening the front door to my house, the rich aroma of something cooking hit me immediately. My eyebrows furrowed in surprise, someone was here. I kicked off my shoes and made my way toward the kitchen, the sound of cheerful humming guiding me.

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