𝙮 𝙖 𝙣 𝙙 𝙚 𝙧 𝙚 ✦ 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐬. 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧~ "𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭"

[4] 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐤.𝐢𝐧𝐠

∘₊✧  🚨  ✧₊∘
𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞-𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲.
∘₊✧  🍋  ✧₊∘

Terror: the only thing you felt for Kita at that moment. How could such a gentle, caring person become this... This stranger?

The dial tone of the small smart phone was quickly replaced with a familiar voice.

"Hello? It's been four and a half hours now, where the hell are you?"

You wanted to sob, but not because of Kita—because of the pain you remembered from hearing your mother's voice. "Hey, yeah, that's my bad. My phone died, but I'm borrowing my friend's charger."

"...What friend? Do I know them? You are coming STRAIGHT home if you're with a boy right now. Tell me where you are."

The lingering feeling of the box cutter Kita held returned as he brought it back towards your nails and locked eyes with you. The hesitation in your words alarmed him, causing him to press the blade just under your ring finger's nail—a small cut forming. A weak wince left your mouth, resulting in a questioning silence on the line from your mother. "...Her name is Chloe. I'm at her house getting ready for our spring break trip. I'll be back in a week." Satisfied, Kita pulled the arm which held the box cutter away from you.

"WHAT? A WEEK? I can't live on my own for a week! Come home now!..."

The drowned out pleas of your mother were silenced by a BEEP-BEEP-BEEP after Kita motioned for you to hand the phone to him, satisfied with your performance.

"...That was unexpectedly well done. Where'd you learn to lie like that?"

You had been through so much emotional turmoil in one day, and now he intended to tease you? Give me a break, please, god. Exasperated, you plead with him.
"Shinsuke-senpai, please let me go to sleep. It's been a long day... I'll feel better once I sleep..."

"But didn't you just sleep for three hours earlier? Remember when you were unconscious, or am I just imagining that, hmm?" His cold, menacing eyes studied your weak composure, and he decided to cave. "...Fine. I know it's been a hard day for you with adjusting to your new home, so yes, you can get some rest."

Your face lit up with hope—hope that Kita might be back to his gentle self. "But first," he continued, "You have to wash your plate in the sink. Can you be a good girl and do that?"

Your head bobbed as you shook it fiercely. All he wants—all you need to do—in order to get some solitude is to wash your dinner plate? Of course you'll do it.

Eyes locked on Kita—observing him—, he gives you the OK to move from your seat. The kitchen tile feels cold against your bare feet, but not unbearably so, like the basement had. Steadily, you made your way to the sink with the plate in hand.

You turned the faucet dial and held your hand under the tap until the water ran warm. Soap, soap... Let's see here...

"Here." Without warning, you felt Kita right behind your frame, one arm reaching to a shelf for soap and then handing it to you.

"Ah—thanks." You began lathering the dish and utensils you used, but Kita remained behind you—unmoving. "What is it?" You stop the water and glance up at him, the menacing eyes still present, but less-so now.