{You Can Tell Me Anything} ~ Oumasai

Healing

*Saihara's POV*

Saihara shifts uncomfortably, unable to get to an angle that would make him feel more relaxed. His arms feel broken, maybe even dead, like they aren't even there anymore. He would believe they were missing if not for the fact that they are keeping him from moving.

Iruma has quite the skill for tying up people. Then again, considering what kind of person she is, that's no surprise. She removed the leash from his neck, not before turning the collar around, and instead hung the handle from the hook in her ceiling. The inventor then wrapped the other end around Saihara's wrist at least five times in an infinity pattern, clipping the end of the leash right back onto his neck. The position he’s in is definitely not a good one, hanging by his arms and inch off the ground. The fact that his jacket is missing is making the entire ordeal more unsettling, leaving him in only his white undershirt.

Saihara shifts his legs uncomfortably, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Why did this all have to happen to me?” he questions aloud. Really, it has only been two days, and he already has embarrassed himself in front of half of his class, gotten a possible concussion, injured both if his legs, been locked in a closet, and gotten hung from the ceiling in Iruma's dorm. How much worse is Shinguuji planning on making things for his life?

He glances up at the time above the door.

6:27.

She should be back anytime. She was only going to be fixing up one of her previous devices at her lab, and that was two hours ago. The Ultimate Inventor had quickly mumbled something about a machine that can tell if you're aroused, or something to that degree. Whatever it was, he could live without knowing.

Saihara feels his bladder twinge, and let's out an aggravated groan. Seriously, this is cruel and unusual punishment, even for someone like Iruma. Leaving someone like this for a few minutes was something Saihara could imagine, but two hours? That's inhumane, no matter how you look at it.

The sudden sound of screeching metal directs Saihara's attention to the door, which opens slowly and noisily. Behind the door, he sees a disheveled Iruma. Her hair is poking out in a few different directions, her clothes ruffled, and she's missing the goggles that are usually perched on the top of her head. She has a blissful expression on her face, her half-opened eyes going against the loose smile she wears.

“Hey, Maihara-chan!” She yells happily, leaning against the door frame as she hiccups. “You missed it man! Chabashira was all up on Yumeno like she was a stripper! Ha, the fucking slut…”

Saihara holds back defending his friends, knowing very well that Iruma is intoxicated out of her mind. He'd been around the people here long enough to know what does and what doesn't work when they're drunk. Maihara-chan? “Iruma-san, where were you?”

“In the dining hall, drinking daiquiris with the ladies,” she replies, her words slurring. She stands up and staggers toward Saihara. “Like, even HaruFUCKA was there.” She starts giggling at her own insult. “So were BAKAmatsu, CHUBBYshira, YuMANo, YoNOga, and POOmugi! And ToGROSS was there for clean up!” By the time she reaches Saihara, she's in hysterics, tears forming in her eyes from laughing so hard. Saihara does nothing but sigh, shaking his head at Iruma's childish behavior. It's conspicuous how she can make fun her friends so easily, but can't stand to be made fun of herself.

“So,” he says, changing the topic, “are you going to let me down now?”

Iruma pouts and puts her hands on her hips, her eyes shutting partially. “Why should I?”

Saihara shifts his body, trying to awaken his sleeping arms. “I’ve been up here for two hours now, and I can’t feel my arms.”

“And?”