❝the countless versions of me,
made from misunderstandings,
all of them are 'me' in the end.❞
yamauchi shizuka and nishimura riki have never liked eachother. hell, their tension brewed to the point of physical escalation many times before.
but when...
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the waiting room outside the principal's office buzzed with the fluorescent hum of overhead lights, casting an unnaturally bright glow over the small, sterile space. it was blinding, and made her eyes sting from pain that was not from tears.
shizuka sat slouched in one of the plastic chairs, arms crossed over her chest, her lips pulled tight in frustration. the adrenaline from her earlier fight was fading, leaving behind an aching throb in her knuckles and a sharp sting across her near-busted nose. dried blood marked her chin, stark against her pale skin, giving her an almost dangerous allure—like a wild animal cornered, but far from defeated.
just as the tension in her body began to ease ever so slightly, the door swung open, and someone else entered the room. she didn't need to look up to know who it was. his presence always seemed to fill whatever space he was in —
nishimura riki.
he dropped into the chair opposite her with a heavy thud, his broad shoulders stiff with anger, and his sharp jaw clenched tight. His dark eyes swept over her, lingering for a split second on the blood smeared across her lip before flicking away. shizuka felt the tension shift, thickening the air between them like a coiled spring.
the silence stretched uncomfortably, filled only by the ticking of the clock on the wall and the occasional rustle of paper from the office beyond.
shizuka felt her body stiffen further. her bleached blonde hair fell in messy strands across her face, framing her sharp, cat-like eyes that flicked between glaring at the floor and darting towards the door every time it creaked.
the fight was still fresh in her mind—the satisfying crunch of her fist against kenji's jaw. even now, thinking about it, the corners of her lips curled into a slight, yet grim, vicious smirk.
she didn't regret a thing.
riki leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest, his dark hair falling into his eyes. the shadows under his eyes gave him a hardened, almost dangerous look. he wasn't bruised or bleeding like she was, but there was something in his expression, something simmering under the surface, that told her he was here for something serious.
finally, after what felt like an eternity, he broke the silence. "why are you smiling like that?"
"like what?" "like a weirdo."
shizuka wiped her lip with the back of her hand, smearing more of the blood across her skin. she scoffed, leaning back in her chair, still trying to calm the wild energy buzzing under her skin. she slumps in her seat, dropping her blood smeared hands to her lap. it's messy and slightly disgusting, but right now? she couldn't care less.
"because i just beat kenji's ass to the death," she muttered, shooting him a sideways glance through her bangs. "and if you bother me, you're next. im not in the mood for bullshit right now, thank you very much."
