「
"the girl he thought he could trust, gone and reduced to nothing but a bystander."
」
Pulling himself to his feet, Muichiro grunted in pain once the same tormenting fist came in contact with his jaw. Any prior support he had seemed to vanish as he stumbled back against the cement wall behind him.
"Hey, Jiro," One of his tormentors spoke. "Try this."
The steel glinted in the limited light within the alleyway, turquoise eyes widening at the sight of the blade. His bottom lip quivered as Jiro looped a finger against the handle and spun it effortlessly between his fingers.
Cold metal hit his neck as Muichiro instinctively reached for something, anything, to escape this newfound danger. His hand met the soft fabric of Jiro's uniform shirt whilst his back pressed firmly against the cement wall behind him.
"Do it."
"Finish the job, Jiro!"
"Please." Muichiro breathed. "Please don't."
But the black-haired male chuckled at his desperation, lifting a hand to his mouth as he laughed. "Please? Really? I don't think you realize how much of a bother you've become to me. You keep disrupting my plans."
"With you out of the way, my life would be so fucking easy."
"Beggars can't be choosers, after all. Can't they?"
Before he could press the blade deeper into Muichiro's neck, the sound of a familiar girl gasping had the two of them freezing and looking in the direction of the disturbance.
You stood, frozen in horror at the sight of the group. Your hand unconsciously moved to feel for the marks and bites still lingering on your neck that had yet to fade, a finger hooking onto the chain of your necklace and fiddling with it nervously. "Jiro...?"
The blade clattered to the floor as Jiro moved to console you, his fingers moving to gently caress your cheek and shush you like a terrified adolescent. "Hey, it's okay. I wasn't actually going to kill him, it was just to scare him off, alright?"
Muichiro stared in disgust at the two of you, a strangely strong urge to vomit suddenly emerging within him as your boyfriend's friends scattered like frightened mice. He grit his teeth at the minimal proximity between you and his tormentor, bending down and slowly grabbing the blade left on the floor and stashing it into his pocket before scoffing and walking away.
But as he passed you, his ears picked up on your whispers.
"Just a dream."
"A really bad dream."
Huh?
--
The school bathroom was cool and damp. A singular, dim white light flickered every so often and poorly illuminated the three stalls behind it, a few sinks standing in front of these stalls with small mirrors above them. The ground in between each tile seemed murky and full of dirt and grime and the beige walls did little to add to this hopeless atmosphere.
A lone mouse limped between two holes within these walls, squeaking in discontentment.
You set your bag on the sink and reached into a smaller pocket in the bag, holding several different foundation containers in between your fingers as you pulled your collar away from your neck, revealing the faded attempts to conceal these marks that you wished to leave behind so much.
Your reflection told the tale of a desperate girl who seemed to grow up too soon, reaching her hand into her past and grabbing for anything that could possibly remind her of happier times just to be washed away like a piece of driftwood. The dark circles under your eyes grew more and more apparent with each passing day, signs of the lost sleep you were now dedicating to lucidness and all-nighters.
Opening the first foundation and taking out the cushion from within it, you desperately dabbed it to the red and blue in hopes to never have to see these horrific reminders until you got home.
The sound of a lock unlocking had you lifting your head up to look in the mirror, a green stall swinging open and revealing your friend Sayaka.
"Oh, Y/N!" She smiled, waltzing up to the sink next to you and turning the faucet on. To your horror, her eyes drifted to your neck. "Oh, I see."
Her smirk was the last thing you wanted to see. "No, it's not like that." You spoke. "He just... kept bothering me about it. I didn't know what to do."
"I get it," She said. "Just didn't know you fucked with that."
After tediously washing her hands and drying them off, she grabbed a bottle and shoved your hand away. "I can do it for you, I've done this plenty of times."
A hesitant nod was all she needed as her hands gently maneuvered across your skin, the repetitive dabbing motion invading your senses as you stared at your reflection one more time.
And you hated nothing more than what you saw.
--
"Have you always had a talent for writing, Y/N?"
The question took you by surprise as you stumbled away from Muichiro, nearly falling right onto his floor before a protective arm looped across your waist and reeled you back up.
His hand held your opened notebook and pen.
"Hey, give that back!" You whined, jumping up to grab it before his hand pushed you away. "That's mine!"
A curious glint in his eyes had your heartbeat quickening as he continued to read, his eyes traveling through each character left to right. You angrily reached for it once more, just to have your hand slapped away.
"Y/N," He began. "This is brilliant. Do you understand just how much potential you have in writing? Each word is used so cleverly, I didn't even know that you were even capable of writing in a tone like this."
"I don't care!" You yelled. "Just give it back!"
"Why don't you pursue this?"
You paused for a moment, stopping your heated pursuits to grab your notebook back. Your eyes moved from the page he'd been reading, back to him, and then back to your fidgeting hands. The air felt too thick to breathe, the flow of oxygen within you ceased along with your resistance.
At the sight of you acquiescing, he gently set the notebook onto the table and sat down in front of it.
His hand moved to pat the spot next to him.
Just like how Jiro had done.
You stepped away hesitantly, your hand unconsciously moving to touch the spot on your neck that had been vandalized. It twitched, your fingers curling in an unpleasant way that had your lower lip quivering.
Why am I shaking? Your upper arm trembled with much ferocity; much so that it could rival the unquelled ferocity of an ocean during a storm. You tensed your muscles in a desperate attempt to cease this involuntary movement, only to be met with your body's rebelliousness.
Memories flashed through your head like camera shutters as the ringing in your ears grew louder. All you could focus on was his hand.
Muichiro was no idiot. His once curious gaze faded into one of worry, his hand moving away from the spot on the floor. "Y/N?"
Perhaps it was the way he called out your name, the layers of concern evident in his tone that let one word escape your throat: "Huh?"
"Your arm's shaking."
"I know that." Your throat felt uncomfortably dry. "I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?" He asked. "Completely normal. Your body's releasing stress through those tremors, I did a bit of research on this awhile back. You don't need to sit down next to me, but just sit down somewhere so you can catch your breath."
Planting yourself across the table from him, you plopped down onto the floor and let your eyes fixate on the boank wall behind him, the textures and intricate inconsistencies in the material ripping your mind away from the awful memories you'd just relived.
"You're shaking! What happened?!"
"I-I'm sorry!"
"Don't apologize, just... hold on! I don't know what to do!"
Noticing the tremors in your arm slowly letting up, turquoise eyes looked back up at you. "Do you want to talk about it? Is it the writing?"
"No, it's not that." You sighed. "It's just been a rough few months, alright? That's it."
"You realize I'm the top of our class, right? I'm no idiot," He spoke. "That being said, I can tell that you're not only trying to convince me of this little charade you've got going on, but yourself."
Muichiro moved to adjust the frames on his face, resting his elbow on the table. "To be honest, if you were a writer, I'd enjoy your work. There's just something... ominous?... behind each story. Some sort of cruel twist that you'd anticipate to happen, just to be ripped away from that excitement--"
"I'm not fond of flattery." You deadpanned. "There's nothing special about that shit. You and I both know that. Stop making me feel like I have a chance of being something better."
"But you do." He continued. "If you'd just believe in yourself and chase this..."
"Stop fucking confusing me!" You yelled, standing up. "Gosh, you're so fucking bipolar! You make me think you hate me and want me dead, but now you're here and telling me that I'm worth a little bit more than a common street whore?! Oh, please. Do you even forgive me, or is this just a cruel way of getting back at me?! Even if you do forgive me, I don't want to be your damn friend!"
A stunned silence followed your words as you quickly slung your bag over your shoulder.
"Stop making things complex for me, you know that I'm too dumb to understand that shit." You continued. "I haven't earned the right to feel proud of myself. I haven't earned the privilege of being your friend again. I haven't earned that kind of happiness."
"You make my life feel fucking unreal." You spat, slamming the door shut behind you.
With your angry exit, Muichiro sat shocked at your outburst. He'd thought many things about you before, and he sometimes wanted nothing more than to knock some sense into you, but his mind could not find rest unless he analyzed each sentence you'd just thrown at him.
Unreal?
"... Like a dream."
"... Like a really bad dream..."
"Just like she said."
His eyes trembled as he stared at your notebook, his curious fingers navigating through the pages and flipping open the most recent page.
It seemed erratic, your once neat pen work now degraded into something barely legible. This page seemed similar to a cry for help, as if you were given a time limit for this story.
And as her grip loosened on this branch, the air seemed to push against her.
It seemed that the world wanted her to fall, deeper and deeper.
Deeper into this uncharted territory; into this unescapable maze with no answers.
"This seems a little..." He muttered, "personal."
So, as invisible hands grabbed and clawed at her, she miserably gave in.
Reality far behind her, she leapt back into this twisted oasis she'd made for herself.
"Muichiro?"
Muichiro perked up in response to his name, slapping the notebook shut and letting his eyes fix onto his brother. "You're back early."
"It seems my prayers were answered," He grinned. "That bitch isn't here, right?"
"... No."
His eyes struggled to stay trained onto his brother, the feeling of being completely tossed out of his own body and watching the thing in third person hitting him like a slap to the face. His vision betrayed him, zooming out completely like a digital camera.
Like a dream.
Like a fucking dream.
"There's something..." He whispered under his breath to himself.
"Something..."
"Something that she's--"
"Muichiro!"
Suddenly, the world came crashing down onto him at once as he seemed to go right back into his body, the ringing in his ears now absent as his vision went back to normal. Stretching his fingers to test the waters, he could barely even process what'd just happened to him.
"I've gotta go."
And with little time to spare, Muichiro ran right past his brother and out the door.
「
"when she saw him at his home, tears rolled down her face like small avalanches on a snowy mountain as she fell to her knees and pressed her head to the floor of his house. crying, begging to be accepted back into his life."
」
a/n: hey it's been a hot minute 😜 lemme explain rq
october was a brutal month for me. i was all over the place throughout the entire month, and late in the month i think i fell into one of the lowest points of my life mentally. i'm not sure what it was, but i felt sad, irritable, and angry for prolonged periods of time in a day, specifically at home. from late october-early november, i participated in some acts that i will never openly condone and am still disappointed in myself for participating in. it never got to the point where i genuinely wanted to die, but sometimes it got kind of close.
thankfully, i have an amazing group of friends who helped me find worth in my day to day life and i thrived off of the brief moments of euphoria that cut through my overall bleak outlook on life. when i fell to my lowest, one of them was able to talk me out of doing some really bad stuff to myself.
i'd like to say this, if you're struggling, please find someone to talk to. my story is more of a miracle than anything because a friend was able to drag me right off the precipice of an addiction to certain self-destructive behaviors. most people are not as fortunate as me in these situations. my messages are always open and i love you all so much and im so proud of you all for making it this far.
my writing dragged me through; writing being one of my only methods of coping. if you've been wondering why i haven't been writing for restaurant girl recently, it's mainly because i find it hard to write lighter stories when i'm in a shit mood. but i will finish that book.
don't be stupid like me and PLEASE find help. i promise you that there's someone that cares about you (including me!) and you are valued and ilysm
STAY SAFE!!!!! drink water, sleep well, eat food, and take care of yourselves!!!! ILYSM 💕💕💕💕💕💕