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╔═══════ ೋღ ♣︎ ღೋ ═══════╗
"Hurt people, hurt people."
╚═══════ ೋღ ♧ ღೋ ═══════╝
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[Y]ou continued to walk through the dimly lit streets to your apartment, the city humming with the midday buzz of Tokyo. Your hoodie, one of Kenma's merchandise, was zipped all the way up to your chin as you moved with a purposeful stride, your mind still buzzing with remnants of your earlier confrontation with Yumiko.
As you walked, you glanced down at the purple ribbon that the ginger had given you. It fluttered slightly in the breeze, the vibrant colour standing out against the backdrop of the grey pavement.
Your brow furrowed as you examined it briefly. "She gives me a ribbon after I practically chew her out?" you muttered to yourself, your voice tinged with a sardonic edge. It was odd, almost laughably so, how Yumiko had chosen to concede and make amends over another argument. Your mind drifted back to the look on her face — the tears in the woman's eyes and the tremor in her voice when she absorbed your harsh words.
Maybe you had been a bit too direct.
You rolled the ribbon between your fingers, feeling the smooth silk against your skin. There was something strangely touching about the gesture, a quiet resilience in Yumiko that you couldn't help but pity. You wondered if things would have been different had your positions been switched, and she was the one Kenma wanted.
Perhaps you both needed that argument. Each for different reasons.
You tucked the ribbon back into your pocket, your hand lingering there as you continued to walk. The streets grew quieter as you approached your apartment building, the shadows of other bypassers stretching across the sidewalk.
