'she works so hard.'
'shut up.'
'she should be rewarded.'
'no she doesn't'
'she even does more than necessary.'
'she should.'
'she should get a break.'
'why?'
'and she's cute.'
'the hell are you talking about?'
'you should do at least something for her.'
'shut the fuck up. i don't listen to you.'
'sure about that?'
bam bam bam bam!
hiruma blinked, and came back to reality. he was sitting in the clubroom with his feet up and the notebook computer on his lap. he glanced at mamori, who was sweeping the floor again.
'the floor isn't even that dirty.'
'remember when it was just you and the fatty?'
hiruma glared at his own consciousness.
it had been bugging him all day, even getting a personality of its own, pestering him to be nicer to the fucking manager.
he didn't like it.
"hiruma-kun? is something wrong? you stopped typing." the girl in question asked, looking at him with curiousity.
"it's nothing, go back to work, fucking manager." he snapped, and continued typing. he received a nasty glare from her, but she continued cleaning.
'what the hell was that for? you didn't have to yell.'
'i told you to shut up!'
'so what? it's my fault?'
'of course it's your fault! you keep arguing with me! what kind of consciousness are you, anyway?'
'i'm your consciousness. and i'm just saying, look at her, the poor girl. at least give her something.'
'give her something?? oh, i'll give her something alright!'
hiruma stood up from his chair, and put the laptop down. then he walked up to mamori.
mamori was surprised."hiruma-kun, what are yo--"
she was cut short when he kissed her.
'how's that for giving her something?'
'much better.'