Warfare Augmented Intelligent Frame Unit

Chapter 103 - F@ck Them Up

Chapter 103 - F@ck  Them Up

It had been a long, brutal day — the kind that drained every last drop of energy from your bones. I spent the last flicker of my strength delivering a half-hearted monologue last chapter, and by the time it was over, I stumbled back to my dorm room like a ghost. 

As soon as I hit the mattress, I sprawled out face-up, barely conscious of anything but the numbing fatigue pressing down on me. Even the thought of boiling some instant noodles made my stomach turn. My appetite was gone, swallowed by a hollow ache I couldn't explain. Not even the idea of killing time with a mindless mobile game could spark any interest.

I let out a heavy, shuddering sigh. What the hell am I doing? The thought gnawed at me. Deep down, I knew — knew — I would regret what I did to Myrrh. For days, I'd wrestled with my feelings for her, caught in a never-ending tug-of-war. And now that I had finally shoved her away, every word I'd hurled felt like a shard lodged in my throat, too late to take back.

I threw my arm over my face, shielding my stinging eyes from the dim ceiling light. Damn it, I wanted to cry. I didn't even know why exactly — whether it was guilt, anger, or just the crushing loneliness. Either way, the lump in my throat was real.

"I'm a man, damn it..." I muttered bitterly to myself, as if saying it aloud would somehow stop the hurt.

Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed from the door. I flinched, pulling my arm away from my face and blinking toward the source. A second series of knocks followed, a little more insistent this time. Curiosity and a low, rising dread tangled in my gut as I dragged myself up from the bed and crossed the room.

When I cracked the door open, I froze.
Standing there in the narrow hallway was someone I hadn't seen at my doorstep for months — Neil. His wavy brown hair was messier than usual, and his skin looked even paler under the corridor's cold fluorescent lights. He gave me a lopsided, almost painful smile.

"Hey," Neil said, his voice rough around the edges.

Without thinking, I slammed the door shut. My heart thudded in my ears as I leaned against the door, crossing my arms tightly. What the hell? Neil hadn't visited me in ages. Not once. And now, of all times, here he was. Something was definitely wrong.

Suddenly, three harsh, rapid knocks rattled my door, loud enough to make me jump.
"Zaft! Open up! That was seriously rude of you!" Neil's voice rang out, half-angry, half-desperate. "I just wanted to have a talk!"

I sucked in a deep, weary breath and cracked the door open just a sliver. Before I could think to close it again, Neil shoved his shoe into the gap, jamming the door with a stubborn thud.

"Oh, Neil... what is it now?" I muttered in a groggy, gravelly voice, the exhaustion bleeding through every word. "There's a lot going on in my head right now. It's really not a good time."

I tried nudging the door closed again, but Neil's foot stayed wedged stubbornly in place. He wasn't letting me off that easily.

"Wait! Before you shut me out, just look at this!" Neil exclaimed, his voice a strange mix of urgency and mischief.

He fished out a crumpled sheet of coupon bond paper from behind his back and held it up like it was some holy relic. On it was a crudely drawn sketch: two stick figures, one awkwardly bent over while the other stood suspiciously close behind. Scrawled above them in big, childish letters were the ominous initials — NTR. It looked exactly like the kind of vulgar doodles we used to giggle over back in second grade.

I blinked, stunned for a second, then blurted out, "The fuck is this?!"

Neil smirked, waving the paper lightly. "Come on. Just tell me what's going on in this picture."