Crimson Storms // A Hiroto Amamiya Fiction

Chapter Four: Unexpected Allies

• Suki Nakamura •

   In the secluded area behind the school, hidden by the dumpster's shadow, an encounter unfolded. Three towering boys leered at her, their grins dripping with malice. She clenched her fists tightly, meeting their gaze with a fiery determination.

"Take one more step, and you'll regret it," she defiantly spat, her voice laced with courage. But her bravery was met with a harsh slap across her cheek, causing her to stumble and collapse onto the cold ground.

"Look at her, thinking she can threaten us when her mother is nothing but a whore, clueless about her own father," they jeered, their words dripping with cruelty.

"You're a bitch!"

"I can already feel the urge to teach her a lesson. Such a disgusting whore!"

Her eyes glanced down at her hands, the scratches from her fall now tainted with her own blood. As her gaze wandered, it landed upon an empty tin can, and her vision fixated on a sharp fragment.

Anger surged within her as she swiftly snatched the piece, her voice trembling with fury. "I'll make you pay!"

But before she could act, a projectile whizzed past, connecting with one of the boys' faces, delivering a powerful kick.

She turned her gaze toward the boy who had executed the impressive flying kick. Never had she witnessed something so mesmerizing.

"Three boys ganging up on one little girl? Pathetic," the cool boy remarked, effortlessly incapacitating the others with a series of swift kicks and punches.

After subduing their assailants, he approached her with a smile, as if the preceding events were of little consequence.

"Are you alright?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"S-Senpai..." her lips unconsciously uttered.

He chuckled lightly. "I'm Takeru. And you?"

"Suki."

   I curse the day our paths intertwined, for now I stand before your grave, seeking comfort in vain.

Beside me, my suitcase lay motionless as I sat on the grass, embracing my knees tightly. I have nowhere to go, without a destination or purpose.

A small part of me now regrets rejecting Masaki's offer, but I also can't live there. I cannot bear the thought of sleeping on their couch, with them passing by the living room each morning, it would be inappropriate and awkward. Also, just the mere fact that they're grown men. I just don't see myself living there.

"Senpai..." I sighed, my fingers idly toying with the blades of grass beside his tombstone. "Should I really stay with your brothers?"

It was pointless to talk to the air but I wanted to let it out. Furrowing my brow, I glanced at the sky and wondered how's life up there. 

"Is it nice up there? Show me a sign if I should move in with your brothers or..." A cold raindrop landed on my forehead, followed by another, until the rain poured harder.

"Why are you so fond of rain?" Takeru inquired.

"Because I don't like to cry," I replied, my voice tinged with melancholy. "And somehow, when it rains, I feel as if the heavens weep on my behalf, giving me some kind of release."