Doll (MikaYuu)

♦56♦ - Mika & Yuu

The interview was public by Thanksgiving week.

I already knew what happened.

They asked him about modeling. They asked him about his money. They asked him about his aunt. They asked him about me.

He was honest with it all, but as I told him before he even walked in there, he wouldn't answer anything he felt he couldn't.

I couldn't remember the day, but afterward I took him out to eat to clear his head. I kissed him on his forehead and told him he was brave.

Mika and I got jobs. Both at the same place. In fast food. He hated it. I was used to it.

He cleaned while I spent my hours behind deep fryers and grills. He always complained about the smell by the time we were in the car and ready to go home. But then when we got paid, the hell was tolerable.

One day was awful. He got recognized by an interrogator and struck my defense.

Now - where I lived wasn't very city-like at all. People hardly knew one another or celebrities unless they were on TV. Sometimes not even then. I thought Mika would've been safe here.

Not until he showed up.

We had switched positions for the hour, and I was cleaning tables, although he was behind the register.

I always kept an eye on him for the sole reason of what happened that day.

Another bigot without the full story.

"Ever since I saw that godforsaken magazine article one day, I've forever despised sick kids like you." That's why caught my attention. I looked over the booth. "No wonder you wound up here. Honestly disgusting. Gross pigs just slugging around these days with no goddamn common sense."

At first, he was still - stunned at the words shot at him. It was like he was watching bullets come at him in slow motion. Then his eyes watered, his face burning red as the rest of the employees just watched. They just watched.

Now - they knew who Mika was, and they respected them.

I made them respect him. To the point where they were afraid of speaking to him or even about him. Nobody was allowed to hurt him, and that guy had no idea that my number one rule was broken.

I nearly got fired that day. Luckily, employment was desperate. Thirsty for labor.

With a locked jaw, I chucked the spray bottle at the back of the man's head with all the strength my arm would let me use - which was quite enough to split the bottle and watch it splatter all on the floor, the remaining plastic skidding down the aisle. He didn't even know what had hit him, blindly spinning around just to meet the wet rag that I had smacked him with across his face. He collapsed to the floor like gravity had increased, and I pinned him down before he attempted to get up. The mark had welted, and grew every time I struck his face. I was hitting him so hard my arms grew numb, tears stinging in my eyes. I couldn't believe I could even become so enraged. I could feel my fingers dig into the hard cotton, my heart pounding and blood rushing to my ears and head. It was like I'd just been possessed by some demon. Every time I struck - a noise of pain.

All he said was enough to keep my bare fists to myself and to only slash him mercilessly with a wet rag. He was horribly swinging at me from underneath, just barely getting his knuckles to my chest.

"Yuu!" I heard Mika shout in such anxiety and sadness in what I was doing. He'd climbed over the counter, pulling me away. I had to stop so I didn't elbow him in the face.