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Ishiki Aoi

They say that you will grow taller if you drink milk. Would soya milk apply too? I compare the prices that are attached to the butt of each milk carton and sigh. A liter of cow's milk is 220 yen while a litter of soya milk is 80 yen! This is so unfair. Am I not allowed to grow much taller?

My height is currently 180 centimeters. I'm pretty tall for a Japanese girl but still, I want to be taller than everyone. It asserts so much dominance and makes you scary, it gives you so many benefits.

"You should just buy two cartons of Soya." I hear a remark behind me. A hand takes away the Cow's milk carton away from the grasp of my right hand and place it back on the rack. The owner of the hand is a tall guy whose veins stick out on his arms. He's wearing a white muscle shirt that's showcasing well-formed biceps and normal blue jeans that emphasizes his freakishly long legs.

I raise my head to look at him properly. He's probably at 190 tall, I bet. Damn, now I feel really inferior.

"Easy for you to say since you're a giant!" I complain. His eyes focus on me and his lips part for a minute. "Don't worry, you're pretty tall for an Asian woman," he tries to assure me. My eyebrows furrows together as the light hits his eyes. That's so damn strange.

Normally, your irises would change its color or become lighter. His however is too dark that it absorbs the light. His monolid eyes are in a fitting shape that compliments the void of his eye color. What's even stranger is, I can't read a single emotion from his eyes or rather he looks like he's bored.

"Are you done looking?" he asks with a chuckle. I snicker and wave a hand dismissively. He rubs his chin and continues to say something, "Soya tastes so good anyway. It's also the best antidote for spicy food."

I look at the Soya carton with awe and place it inside my cart. "Thanks," I mutter.

His eyes disappear as he smiles but quickly it opens again with the same dead expression. My back stiffens as I witness it. I can't describe it accurately, but somehow it's disturbing and...beautiful?

What the hell am I saying?

I turn my back right away and slide my cart away. That's like one of the signs of a psychopath. One should get away real quick! I continue to push the cart while I turn my neck to the sides to look if the freakishly tall guy is around.

To my surprise, the cart crashes towards a person. Without looking, I bow down and apologize.

"Watch where you're going!" The person reprimands. His voice sounds familiar. I raise my head only to see one of Yamada's bullies. He widens his eyes as he gets to see my face.

"You..." he growls.

"Let's just put things in the past, okay?" I laugh nervously but it doesn't seem to calm him so I retract my steps. He moves forward, his nostrils flaring and his eyes glowering.

"I don't think your brothers in your gang would like it if you attack someone publicly." I try to deflect him, but in response, he hits a row of conditioners on a rack beside us. They all drop like a bunch of bowling pins.

I let go of the cart and roll my sleeves upwards. "Hey! That's very disrespectful. The staff works hard on arranging those."

He launches a punch towards my face. Luckily, I dodge by stepping aside. I laugh to mock him, but my smile quickly falters as I see two other guys approaching him.

Shit!

"Look, I don't want to fight here," I excuse and turn my neck towards the back but another set of guys appear there. Jesus, I don't even know why I am freaking out. They're brainless and have no techniques.

I kick the cart towards the three in front of me. It hits one of them, making the guy go a few steps behind. The two on my back charges and lifts me, holding each of my arms. I grip their forearms twist it in response. They scream in pain and release me. The remaining two from the other side hurls a punch, one towards my stomach and the other towards my face.

I couldn't dodge it so it hits me simultaneously. My neck twists painfully and my right cheekbone feels the blunt blow of the opponent's fist. A woman screams in the background. I bend down and hold my stomach.

To my surprise, a basket drops on his head and pulls him behind. A knee strikes on his spine. An elbow crashes towards his companion's nose. The helper is no other than, freakishly tall guy. The guy who I hit with the cart, tries to kick him on his side. He quickly catches the attacker's skinny calf with his hand and twists it.

A thick warm liquid slides down from my nostrils. I touch it and look at my fingers. It is blood. What the hell? They didn't even punch me on the nose! Freakishly tall guy pulls me by my forearm. We run towards the right, where the exit is.

Outside the grocery store is a busy parking lot. There are a series of black cars parked in the first column. The other side is filled with customized motorcycles that have men riding on them and gripping the handlebars. The motorists shoot us a glare and accelerate towards us.

We run back inside the store through the entrance. His hand is still gripping my forearm. My heart tugs wildly on my ribcage. I feel my chest tightening and my hands freezing.

He brings me towards Section 3, the fruit stations. Watermelons are displayed at the center with a metallic table filled with ice. Both of us crouch down and hide behind the table, holding melons.

"Why are you helping me huh?" I manage to say despite my uneasy breathing. He does not respond however he furrows his eyebrows together as he looks at me. "Inhale deeper," he instructs.

Before I could, we hear belching engines crashing towards the glass doors of the entrance. The other customers run around and scream in panic. The cashier clerks duck down in their stations and try to hide.

I grit my teeth and grip the watermelon tighter. We are going to die right now. Even my damned brothers can't survive this kind of thing!

It isn't long until all the motorcycles appear on all sides. There's no escaping this. They gather up in circles and move towards us.

My eardrums snap and release an airy ringing sound. It muffles every sound around and isolates the beating of my heart. I close my eyes and accept my fate.

Is this how am I going to die?

Yes, definitely.

However, minutes already pass by and I don't feel wheels crushing my bones yet. The ringing stops but I couldn't hear belching engines anymore. Two strong hands shake me but my body refuses to move.

"Hey! It's okay," I hear the tall guy say. My eyes slowly open and see that the motorcycles are just a few inches before crashing towards us. All of the cyclists look towards the far-right and bows their heads. A figure comes nearer and approaches.

It seems like it's their leader.

Jesus, hasn't anyone called the police yet? Or does no one ever do at times of gang attacks? They should have just killed me right then. I feel the tall guy's hand grip mine, trying to reassure me by rubbing his thumb on my palm.

My jaw drops as the figure goes nearer and stands in front of us. He spreads out his arms and flashes me a wide grin. The man is wearing a pinstriped suit and has ridiculous gray hair that is tightly attached to his scalp with gel. My eyes dart to his left hand and notice that he's lacking a pinky finger.

"My beautiful niece!" He calls out to me.

Tall guy scoffs and widens his eyes.

"What the hell?"

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