The thing about Punpun was that he found it completely within his capacity to love and hate a person at the same time.
He hadn't always been this way, or so he thought - he felt like this started growing in him when he went downstairs that one morning and found his father bent over his mother, pleading with him to believe that she just fell and hit her head. He remembered standing there, frozen, watching as his father looked at him with eyes full of remorse and fear, begging for him to not tell anyone. His eyes had shifted to his mother, crumpled on the ground, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth open in a quiet cry.
And so it went. Ever since then, he explored his ability thoroughly. The people that crossed in and out of his life supplemented it easily. There had been Kanie, with her easy deceptive ways. He had just wanted to kiss her, feel her up, and she had totally dismissed him. Then there had been Midori, who he had loved and trusted. In a moment of vulnerability, she had stolen his virginity from him like a thief, then carried on with her life and left him feeling more barren than ever.
Then there was Aiko. There was always Aiko.
Ever since he had first laid eyes on her, he had wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with her. And after everything, he had, somehow, still felt that feeling. It was quite phenomenal actually, to hold it so deep within himself that no girl, no event could ever pry it from his grasp. Maybe that was why, when he saw her again for the first time so many years later, it was the easiest thing in the world to let that feeling crash over him.
Now, here he was, standing in front of her outside of his house. No matter who was on the phone just now - he couldn't even remember who it was and what their conversation had been about. When he saw her, it was like his world stopped spinning one way and began to rotate in another. The bruises on her face, the way she turned away from him - and he felt it, that feeling, surging through him like fire. He grabbed her and spun her around, leaning forward until she was so close he could taste her breath, and he yanked her shirt down. Her breasts hung out, but she didn't seem ashamed. At least, he didn't think so - but maybe he hadn't noticed the small flicker of her eyes as they turned downcast and the light that may or may not have been there in the first place slipped from them. She had clearly resigned herself to this man, or was it just a boy?, that stood in front of her. She made no move to protest as he led her into his house, and onto his bed. Inwardly, she was breathing what was both a sigh of relief and one of pain - that finally, what she had been both dreading and waiting for all these years was staring her right in the face.
Punpun trailed his finger over her breast, her stomach. A look of concentration was etched into his face, and she heaved a deep breath as he slipped her clothes off. Then his. He kissed underneath her chin only briefly, his hands gliding over hers, her thighs, her feet. She closed her eyes at the sharp pain in between her legs. She bit her finger, and held on tight - after all, what she wanted didn't matter and had never mattered. She let her thoughts wander to the children laughing on the street, the weather outside, her mother at home. Anywhere but here, with the fire in between her legs and the sweating, breathing boy above her.
When she refocused, his breath was labored and he was holding her tight. She tried to find his eyes, but she couldn't. Aiko sighed and tried one last time to find the worth and acceptance she had been searching for. She breathed out, "Come inside me."
If Punpun heard her, he ignored her, and soon she was lying there with his sticky semen on her breasts and shoulders. He pulled away from her, and paused momentarily as he stared at the blood splattered on her legs and on his sheets. How had he not felt that? His eyes flickered to her. Why had she not said anything?
"You coward," she said, softly, so that he wasn't sure if he had heard her correctly.
In that moment, he felt it too - that urge to rip her throat out. Calling him a coward? For what? He fucked her, she should be thankful. The stupid bitch. He glanced up at her, and she was standing, almost resigned, against his bedroom wall. Her eyes were downcast towards her feet, and before he could respond, she asked him - "Punpun..hey..tell me something. Do you like me?"
She sank down to the floor as she said this, hiding her face in the crook of her elbows and resting her chin on her knees. He stared at her, and without pause he responded, "I like you."
Aiko didn't look up. Instead, she stared down between her blood-stained legs, drinking in the sight of scarlet red on her skin.
"Good," she murmured. "Then I like you too."
He watched her, but she didn't look up. He felt a tiny, tiny pang of guilt in her chest - he had not, after all, known she was a virgin. Punpun wanted to crawl over to her and touch her lightly, assure her that he liked her and he liked her a lot, but somewhere deep inside himself he knew that it would be no consolation to what she was feeling.
Her silhouette stood out, naked and bruised. He wondered briefly, to himself, if this was the Aiko he had known in his childhood, or just her shell.
Punpun watched the streets and people sail by as he idly stared out the window. He felt strong and complete. Next to him, Aiko had her hands placed gingerly on her lap, her eyes cast downwards. They were in a lemon yellow taxi, hurtling down the highway.
They were going to see her mother. Aiko would tell her that she was going away with Punpun, so they could start their lives together. He glanced at her, and it felt like everything had finally clicked into place. Here, next to Aiko, was where he had always been meant to be. She had him, his world - she owned him.
He hoped he owned her, just the same.
Her hand slipped into his, and he almost heard her words from when they were children - "Hey, Punpun, you'll give up your whole family and run away with me, right?"
He never thought he'd be able to keep his promise. Now, her hand in his, he was not the least bit surprised it had come to this. She turned to him, and said quietly, "You're all I have now, Punpun. Let's start everything over again…just you and me.."
And he knew that sitting there, their hands clasped tight, he would never ever let her go again. Everything in his life was to reach this point - every hardship, every good moment, every smile, every friend, every night shining with stars.
This was where he was meant to be.
The taxi rolled to a stop, and they climbed out. Punpun paid the driver, who waved goodbye before speeding away to receive his next patron. Punpun turned to Aiko, their hands still intertwined. She frowned, looking troubled.
"I'm sorry..I'm not trying to scare you but..my mother can be a little difficult."
He shrugged, but she continued, talking about how scared she was, but that she felt like smiling. What dog she wanted, where she wanted to live. He tuned her out for a moment, before he realized she was asking him a question.
Punpun turned to her, pressing his lips against hers, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her close. Their lips molded to each other, and his tongue wrestled with hers. He swallowed their saliva, the taste almost delicious. His hand slid down, groping her through her skirt, and she groaned into his mouth. Her hands grabbed his arms forcefully, almost locking him to her.
Ah, he thought. If we could stay like this forever, I would be content.
Another thought occurred to him, and it almost brought a smile to his lips. God, he loved her and hated her so much. More than he ever thought he could. He thought the emotion would overwhelm him, right then and there, with their mouths tangled together in a tango. Everything she had done to him, every cold shoulder, every toothy smile. She was so horrendous, but he couldn't get enough.
She was a manipulative bitch, and he wanted to slap her, bite her tongue off, rip her hair from her head, and choke her until her hot breath couldn't escape. Till her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her chest heaved and her face turned blue. He wanted to pry her fingernails off, watch her mouth contort in pain. He wanted to punch her, watch the blood and snot and tears stream down her face. Then he wanted to stitch up every wound he had caused and kiss her until she felt better, fuck her until she was senseless, and cradle her at night. He wanted to be with her forever, holding her hand and standing like this. The way their bodies fit, like puzzle pieces, satisfied him more than anything else. It was like a melding of two fates right before their very eyes.
He drew away, replacing his mouth with his thumb, a line of saliva trailing between their mouths. "Whatever it is, it isn't important," he breathed quietly. "We can do whatever you wish, whenever you want to."
He smiled at her. Her hands still on his harms and his hands still on her hips, she looked up at him. That nasty bruise ringed her right eye, and he was beginning to feel that he knew where it was from. Something inside him shifted. He looked at her, dead in the eye, and said what he felt.
"Nothing matters, because I'll always protect you, no matter what."
She looked up at him, with absolutely no clue to his lovingly murderous thoughts in her direction. She felt so torn and broken up, and here was a man she had known her entire life, standing so close, telling her he would always care for her.
She looked towards her house and slipped her hand into his once more. "Ok," she said, nodding.
And on they walked.