NARCISSIST || jjk toge inumaki x reader

chapter ii

•••

You pant, collapsing next to a metal garbage bin in an alleyway, clutching your nose. If it was just one guy, I could've probably taken him on. I shouldn't have just ran away like that, what will my manager say? Losing yourself in a spiral of worry, you forget that you haven't ran that far away from the shop. Ah, shit. I should get out of here befo-

"There's that bitch that kicked you, Kenji!"

Your head perks up and you see them at the start of the alleyway, you're at a dead end. You try to take cover behind the bin, but as you lean back against it, it abruptly squeaks forward. Suddenly, footsteps flurry towards you.

•••

A painful ring stings your ears and you see nothing but white as you lie on the ground, the crimson ichor of your body painting the wet concrete beneath you. Your mind is blank, but you hear a distant stir of panic.

"C'mon man, she's a witness, we have to kill her!"
"Are you crazy? Robbing a store is one thing, but killing someone could ruin the rest of our lives."

first person

'Our'. Funny. Bad people always think of themselves. I'm within an inch of my life and yet they're worried about the rest of theirs. If I die here, am I satisfied with the person I am, the
life I've lead?

My whole life, I've never been able to form real, genuine connections. Whatever relationship I had with people was transactional. You give me something, I see you as a benefit, not a person. I always treated people like they were inferior, wholeheartedly believing I was the all-knowing and everyone else followed. I've spent my whole life self-obsessed. I never thought I needed anyone, if I only depend on myself, why owe other people anything.

Yet, now I'm here. Needing someone. I'm bleeding out in the street, and I've lived 16 years of my life with nothing to show for it. The only time I've yearned for true friendship is when I'm dying.

Who do I think I am? I'm not God.

I heard them walk back to me. My mouth was so full of blood, my only cry for help was a mere gurgle. I wanted to prepare my mind for the worst, mentally brace for death and what's beyond, but I couldn't. My mind was thinking of my future, but what future? I was still lying here like an idiot.

Oh, what the hell. I'm not dying here!

My chest burned with the desire to live and suddenly I didn't feel so helpless. My body almost felt like it was vibrating. Was it adrenaline? No, it was something more. Engulfed in this foreign feeling I lifted my upper half up and grabbed the brick wall next to me, scraping my fingernails to pull myself up.

My balance wavered, but my vision returned and I saw the smug, suprised look on their faces as I stood up. I spat the blood out of my mouth and winced as my broken ribs scraped against my insides. The laceration on my right cheek was deep, the skin splitting open and dripping blood.

I felt better, somehow. I felt like I could fight. My eyes were glazed over but I saw the man I had kicked walk towards me.

"Oh? You still move."

•••

I stood with my head hung. Towering over the two men bloodied and bruised on the floor. That rush I had felt before had diminished. My chest heaved as every breath got harder to exhale. Yet again, that ring in my ears. I fell to my knees, a stream of blood falling from my mouth. I closed my eyes, waiting for my head to soon hit the floor.