The next morning, my eyes are swollen and bloodshot from crying. On top of that, I have a fever and my mom is gone on a work trip for the rest of the week, so I'm left to take care of myself.
Before school starts, I send a text to Mitsuya:
8:15 AM - Me - I'm not going to school today
I think I caught a cold
I stare at my screen for a minute, waiting for his reply. He usually texts me back right away. But 5 minutes pass, and I still get no reply. Assuming he's already at school, I put my phone aside and wrap myself tightly in my covers again.
As I close my eyes, my thoughts drift to Mikey.
He didn't ask me any question while he walked me home yesterday. He just silently walked me all the way to my porch and held the umbrella over my head until I had stepped inside of my house. That was really nice of him.
Eventually, I fall back asleep. I'm woken up by the persistent ringing of my doorbell. With a groan, I force my eyes open and drag myself downstairs. When I open the door, Mitsuya is standing before me, holding several bags in his hands.
"What- What are you doing here? Why aren't you at school?"
He grins at me. "You really think I'd leave you alone when you're sick?"
Still too surprised, I don't move and he brushes past me, entering the house. I close the door behind him and follow him into the kitchen where he places his bags on the kitchen island and begins to unpack.
"I've got pain relievers, decongestants, expectorants, and cough suppressants. And since your mom is gone for the week, I thought I should also bring you some food," he explains, pointing to the assortment of boxes. "So, I got a chicken noodle soup, a vegetable stir fry, a fruit salad, and a quiche."
I stare at the display in front of me, my lips parted.
"Mitsuya, that's..."
"-why I'm your best friend?" He finishes for me and my gaze meets his.
He's smiling at me so tenderly that I can feel my heart melt.
I take the short steps to him and hug him. He wraps his arms around me, one of his hand gently finding its place on the back of my head.
"Thank you," I whisper, my chin resting on his shoulder. "Oh wait, I probably shouldn't get too close," I realize and start to pull away, but Mitsuya tightens his arms around me, keeping me close.
"It's okay," he whispers, and I squeeze my eyes shut as I feel new tears well up in my eyes. A sniffle escapes me, and Mitsuya pulls apart from me just enough to see my face.
"There's something else, isn't there?" He guesses and I nod in response.
10 minutes later, we're both sitting on my couch, each holding a bowl of chicken noodle soup in our hands. I've just told him everything about the bet, the Haitani's party, my first kiss with Rindou and his betrayal. He listened without ever interrupting me, even though I could tell thoughts and comments were rushing through his mind while I was speaking.
"I hate men," I conclude, half-heartedly stirring my soup with my spoon. "Except for you, of course," I quickly add, looking up at Mitsuya.
He exhales, offering a small smile. "It's okay, I get it."
I can tell he's still tense because of everything I just shared. I'm not sure which part upsets him the most: the bet, the fact that the Haitanis spent the night at my house or the fact that I was going to go to the dance with Rindou.
"So, about the dance-" he begins tentatively, but I immediately cut him off, "I don't want to talk about that stupid dance anymore. I don't want to think about it, hear about it, I just..." I pause, sighing. "I'm not going. I'll just go to Baji's house and act like his date like I promised, and then I'm going home," I declare.
Mitsuya observes me for a long moment. It looks like he wants to say something, but whatever it is he wants to say, he chooses to hold it back for now.
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Mitsuya ended up spending the afternoon home with me. When he left to go pick up his sisters at school, I took a shower and got dressed.
I don't know why but I feel the need to go talk to Mikey. I really want to thank him for yesterday, but I do realize that showing up to his house just to thank him might look weird, so if he asks, I'll just say I also came to work on our group project.
To find his address, I had to look up dojos in Shibuya until I eventually found one with his last name: "Sano Dojo". It's located in a narrow street and is adjacent to a small house. I stop at the door and take a deep breath before knocking.
A man opens the door. My eyes trail upward, taking in the full length of his body. He's wearing baggy jeans, a white T-shirt and a gold chain. Then, my eyes reach his face and I have to blink a few times just to make sure my eyes aren't betraying me.
It's crazy how much he looks like Mikey. It's as if I'm staring at an older version of him. One with black hair.
It's probably his brother since he looks too young to be a dad?
"Hi. Can I help you?" He asks me, and I snap out of it.
"Hi, I'm looking for Manjiro. Is he here?"
"Mikey? He just left."
"Do you know if he'll be back soon?"
"No idea, sorry."
I give him a small, polite smile. "Alright, thank you."
I turn to leave but he speaks again, "Wait." Pausing, I look back at him and find him studying me intently, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. "Are you okay? You look like you've been crying a lot," he points out and I feel my cheeks flush in embarrassment.
God, I must look horrible with my eyes all red and puffy.
"Oh, yeah, I'm okay," I lie, forcing a smile, but he continues to stare at me, not buying it.
"Wanna to talk about it?" He offers and I scratch the back of my neck.
"It's just stupid boy problems and school drama. Nothing interesting, really."
He grins, chuckling. "Are you kidding? Drama is what I miss the most about high school!"
And just like that, I find myself telling a complete stranger everything that has happened in the past few days, including the bet. Shinichiro - that's his name, I learned - invited me inside and now we're both sitting at his kitchen table.
"Waw..." he exhales once I'm done, leaning back into his chair. "That's messed up."
"Yeah," I agree quietly.
A moment of silence passes, and I look down, my thoughts drifting back to Rindou and Izana. I feel so much anger towards the both of them.
"Hey," Shinichiro addresses me softly, and I lift my gaze to meet his. God, his eyes look so much like Mikey's. "Holding onto all that anger won't do you any good, you know?"
A heavy sigh escapes my lips. "I guess. But what can I do about it?"
A new grin gradually spreads across his lips. "I have an idea."
He rises from his chair, wordlessly inviting me to follow him. I get up and fall in line behind him as he strolls down a hallway that leads to a closed door. With a fluid motion, he swings it open, revealing the expansive dojo beyond. The air is filled with the rhythmic thuds of someone mercilessly hitting a punching bag. My gaze instinctively gravitates towards the source of the relentless noise, and in an instant, a surge of heat courses through my veins.
Izana.
He has tried to tie his hair back, but a few rebellious strands have escaped. They sway with each forceful strike he delivers. He's not wearing a shirt, and his sculpted abs are glistening with a sheen of sweat. His hands are wrapped in bandages to protect his knuckles as he unleashes powerful blows upon the bag. Yet, even with that safety measure, I spot several crimson stains marring the white fabric.
"Hey, Izana," Shinichiro calls out, and Izana halts, turning his attention towards us.
His gaze hooks on his brother first, but quickly, it slides to me and an uneven breath escapes his lips.
"What are you doing here?" he asks me, his eyes ever so slightly narrowing.
His brother's gaze bounces between us. "Wait, do you two know each other?" he asks before connecting the dots. "Oh, right, you both go to the same school."
He doesn't know Izana is the one who made the bet as I didn't mention any name while I talked to him about my problems.
"You won't believe what she just told me," he tells Izana, jerking his thumb towards me. "Apparently, some creeps made a bet about who would be the first to sleep with her. Can you believe that?"
A hint of mockery creeps into my voice as I repeat under my breath, my eyes still locked with Izana's, "Yeah, can you believe that?"
Izana's gaze narrows a little more at my words.
"I need you to do me a favor and let her use the punching ball for a minute," His brother states and for the first time since we've entered the dojo, Izana drags his eyes away from me to look at his brother.
"What?"
His brother is already turning back to me. "All you have to do is imagine you're punching the guy who made that bet," he tells me and I have to hold back a dry laugh.
If only he knew that the guy in question in the room with us.
"I don't know if that's a good idea-" Izana starts to refuse but I cut in, "Oh, I think it's a fantastic idea, actually."
Shinichiro's grin widens. "Right?" He claps in his hands together. "Alright, I'll leave you two to it!"
Shinichiro walks out of the dojo, closing the door behind him and leaving Izana and I alone in the vast space. I kick my shoes off before stepping onto the mat.
"You know what?" I muse, a wicked glint in my eyes as I take off my jacket, my gaze never leaving Izana's. "I've got an even better idea than your brother's. How about I use you as my personal punching bag?"
He lets out an amused exhale through his nose, which only angers me more.
"Are we going with punches or slaps?" I ask as I stop in front of him. "You choose," I command, rolling up my sleeves.
With a dismissive snort, he briefly glances to the side. "Doesn't matter. I won't feel a thing either way."
My blood boils with anger and frustration. Without hesitation, I raise my hand and slap him across his face, causing his head to turn to the left. The resounding sound reverberates throughout the dojo.
"That's for the way you treated Hailey," I grit through clenched teeth.
I slap him a second time, making his head turn slightly again.
"That's for making that stupid bet."
With determination in my eyes, I summon the strength for a third slap, hitting him a little harder this time.
"And that's for ruining my first school dance for me."
The weight of my words hangs heavily in the air. When Izana turns his head back to face me, a smirk is dancing upon his lips, provoking me even further.
His words cut through the thick tension, hitting a raw nerve. "Aw, did you finally take off your rose-colored glasses and realize Rindou is no different than any other guy?"
"I hate you," I spit, my voice laden with frustration and hurt.
His smirk falters. I try to slap him again, but he swiftly catches my wrist, stopping me.
"Alright, that's enough, Y/N," he says, his grip tightening around my wrist.
"What's wrong?" I taunt, a hint of defiance in my voice. "I thought you wouldn't feel a thing anyway?"
"I am feeling something," he responds, his gaze flickering to my lips. "But it's not coming from your little girl slaps."
My anger intensifies, and I spit out my next words, "Fuck you."
His smirk widens. "Please do."
"You disgust me."
"You love me."
I narrow my eyes and take a step back, breaking free from his grasp on my wrist.
"Did your mother drop you on your head as a kid?" I fire off the insult, hoping to hit a nerve, but he just shrugs nonchalantly. "Wouldn't know. I never met her."
His response catches me off guard, momentarily destabilizing me. I regroup quickly, refusing to let him see any sign of vulnerability.
"If you think this is going to make me feel bad for you, you're wrong."
He pokes the inside of his cheek with the tip of his tongue, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes as he fights back a smirk.
"Really?" He asks, feigning disappointment. "It usually works with girls."
Frustrated and determined to wipe that stupid expression off his face, I gather all my strength and try to slap him again. But just like before, he swiftly catches my wrist, preventing the blow from landing.
"Y/N," he warns on a breath as he stares into my eyes. "Stop trying to hit me, or I'll make you regret it."
Undeterred, I use my other hand in a futile attempt to strike him, but he intercepts it effortlessly. Now, he's firmly holding both of my wrists in his hands, immobilizing me.
Our rapid breaths intermingle as our eyes lock in a fierce gaze.
In a sudden, fluid motion, he draws my wrists firmly against his chest, pulling me nearer. His lips descend upon mine in an unexpected, electrifying collision. At first, I struggle against his grasp, trying to break free, but he doesn't budge, and soon, I find myself closing my eyes, surrendering helplessly to the torrent of emotions crashing over me.
This kiss... It's as if Izana has just doused my fiery anger with gasoline, igniting an inferno within me that consumes everything in its path. It leaves me breathless, gasping for air when he finally pulls away.
We both struggle to catch our breath, our chests rising and falling rapidly as we stare at each other. His wide eyes mirror my own shock.
"Fuck." The sound escapes his lips, barely audible while I'm left completely speechless.
I sprint out of the dojo so urgently that I abandon my jacket behind and grab my shoes on the fly, not even bothering to stop to slip them on before bolting out of the house.