heartache | t. muichiro ✓

acrimony

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Knocking desperately on the door, you anxiously awaited the upcoming awkward interaction that you'd probably have to deal with.

Yuichiro was clearly not fond of you, as made clear with the other past interactions you've had with him. Still, he opened the door, looked you up and down, and then stepped aside.

You hesitantly walked in and stiffened when you heard the door shut behind you, half-expecting him to immediately attack you. Fortunately, he had no intent of doing so and instead just leaned quietly against the door.

"Uhm," he stammered. "Do you want—I don't know—tea, or something?"

"It's alright." You dismissively waved a hand at him, moving to then fold your arms across your chest and avert your eyes. "It's already enough of a bother for me to be showing up like this."

"No—no. I really don't care, I didn't have anything better to do anyway."

You flinched.

"Not like that!" Yuichiro frantically corrected. "Look, I'm not exactly used to comforting people. Just cut me some slack, alright?"

"Not even Muichiro?" You asked.

Yuichiro casted his eyes down to his feet, sighing. "Not even Muichiro."

This is awkward. Really awkward. "Did you... are you high, or something?"

His eyes widened and he yelled, "I am not high! Is it so unusual for me to be a good person?!" As soon as those words passed his lips, he realized just ironic the whole thing was. He invited you over in order to save you from a guy telling at you, just to now be another guy yelling at you. "H—Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice like that."

"Not that big of a deal." You shrugged, still a bit shaken. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, I guess." He replied, moving to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of tea. You watched him closely, the way he averted his eyes and avoided you like the plague. Clad in a pair of sweatpants and a raggedy t-shirt, you could infer that Yuichiro was not ready for social interaction today.

"So, do you want to talk about it or do you just want space?"

"Why are you suddenly acting nice to me?" Your question was so abrupt, Yuichiro turned to look at you with a surprised face before accidentally pouring the burning hot tea onto his hand. He yelped in pain, dropping the pot back onto the plate and clutching his hand in agony.

You gasped at the sudden development and rushed to help him, moving to usher him towards the sink and instructing him quickly. He unexpectedly pushed you away, however, opting to yell: "Don't help me!"

"Could you not be stubborn for two seconds and just let me help you?!" You retaliated, gingerly grabbing his arm.

Leaving you with no response, he angrily scowled down at you before using his other hand to remove yours, shoving it to your chest. "I don't need help. I never did."