The delinquent and the abused(Osoro Shidesu x female! oc) rewrite

Chapter 4 (Rewritten)

Miyu stood up from her desk, tucking her pencils back into her bag.

"Kaminari? Can we talk for a moment?" she lifted her head at Mr Kenjiro's voice. He was leaning against the desk, tucking short black strands of hair behind his ear. She zips up her bag and turns to him, her head slightly tipped forward.

"Yes Mr Kenjiro?" her voice was soft, quiet when addressing him.

"You seemed a little upset today. Is something the matter?" he asked, fingers tapping against the table. Miyu focused hard to not flinch at the repeated noise.

"No sir." she shakes her head, almost catching her teeth on her tongue. He stares at her for a moment before sighing.

"Look, I've heard a couple of the other teachers mention you've been lingering around where Shidesu and her friends like to wander. Just be careful. If you think they'll try to start a fight with you, come find me." he Mr Kenjiro's voice was gentle and he placed his palm flat on the surface of the desk. Miyu didn't respond, only turned to look at her shoes.

"Your dismissed. Have a good day Kaminari." he turned around to his desk. Miyu didn't hesitate, turning back to his desk. Miyu pulled the straps of her rucksack onto her shoulders.

"Have a nice night Mr Kenjiro." she mutters before stepping out of the classroom.

****
Miyu flinched at the yelling she was greeted with upon opening the door. She pushed the door closed quietly, listening for the click before she stepped away.

"I swear you can't do anything right. You're fucking useless!" her dad's voice boomed from the kitchen followed by the resounding smack of skin on skin. Miyu flinched.

"Oh like you're any better. Don't think I don't know about that bitch you've been sleeping with when you go out for a beer. You are such a pig!" her mum screamed. Screeching of shoes against laminate. Miyu slipped her shoes off, hiding them underneath the shoe rack and tiptoeing across the hall. If she could just get up the stairs, then maybe they wouldn't notice that she'd returned home. The door to the kitchen swung open, slamming against the wall followed by her dad storming out after it. His tie was undone, almost falling off one side and his dress shirt unbuttoned at the top. His head snapped towards Miyu. She froze in place. His brows snapped down to the bridge of his nose and he stamped his feet towards her. Her legs shook as he towered over her.

"You're even more useless than she is. At least she makes money. What do you even do? Play dress up? Or are you opening your legs to every man who looks at you? Is that what takes you so long to get back here. That time could be spent making actual fucking money." he snapped, taking a tight hold of her wrist. Miyu winced; eyes squeezed tight. She heard the sound before the pain set in, the snap of leather against skin. Then the scorching pain on her lower back registered. She bit her tongue to ward off the tears.

"Ugh. You disgust me. Your just like that whore." she snarled, tossing her back. Her back collided with the table behind her. The flower vase atop it wobbled for a few seconds before falling forward, smashing to pieces on the floor. Miyu hissed when one of the pieces skimmed her cheek. More thumping approached.

"I can't believe you broke my mother's vase. How dare you?" her mum spat, stepping into the small space in the hall. Her dad scoffed.

"I didn't do anything. That little brat was the one that broke it." he snarled in return, rounding on the older woman.

"Miyu clean this up. Be useful for once." her mother sighed, waving one hand towards her before returning her focus on her husband. Miyu reached one hand up to her cheek, brushing her fingers across the point of pain and pulling them back. Blood stained her fingertips. She turned to the glass shards on the floor. She began picking up the pieces, biting her lip every time they cut into her skin. She only stood back up when all the pieces were collected, taking a path around her bickering parents to dump the glass into the bin. She returned to the hall, walking up the stairs slowly to avoid drawing their attention and entered the bathroom. There were drops of blood squeezing through the cuts on her hands.

"Notagain." she mumbled, sticking her hands under the hot water of the tap andwashing away the blood. Once they were clean, she pulled out the first aid kit,taking a disinfectant wipe to the cuts on her hands and face. Once cleaned out thoroughlyshe put a plaster on her cheek and wrapped some bandages around her hands. Shetucked the first aid kit back under the sink and slinked her way out of thebathroom and into the cupboard where her bed was. She shut the door softly and floppeddown on her mattress. She didn't have her sketchbook so all she could do wassit and stare at the light swinging back and forth above her.