Neurosis
It was supposed to have been simple. When she had dragged Hayama behind the school, planning to scold him thoroughly, she never expected him to really retaliate. They were only children.
Her neck was still sore from being squeezed by his strong hands, and that look was in his eyes as he regarded her in a cold manner.
"You'd really do anything to help me?" he asked, sounding vaguely intrigued.
"Yeah," she said, smiling brightly, even though it hurt terribly to speak. "If you have a problem, I want to help you with it."
He tilted his head, and reached into his pants' pocket, pulling out a switchblade. He offered it to her, pointing the blade towards himself. She froze, noting the irony in his demonstration that he had at least learned how to properly handle sharp objects.
"Then kill me," he said, motioning for her to take the knife.
When she made no move, he reached out for her hand and placed it on the handle of the knife. Making sure she had it firmly in her grasp, he let go. She stood there, the knife loose in her uncertain grip.
"You have got to be kidding," she said.
"Not at all," he replied, almost amicably. "If you want to help me, then kill me."
Trembling with fury, she swung the knife at him, and watched with vague satisfaction as it pierced his heart.
"Not so heartless after all, were you," she murmured, as the blood gushed out of the wound.
"No," he whispered, sinking slowly to his knees.
-
"No!" Sana screamed, sitting straight up in bed. She looked around, the room becoming clearer. Her school uniform hung on the back of her door. Everything was normal, but she could still feel his cold fingers wrapped around her neck, choking.
Hastily, she reached for her diary, flipping to the most recent entry. Was it only a dream? Or had she really?..
...19xx. Sunny.
Hayama and Fuka looked really cute today when they were arguing.. she really knows how to keep him in line. It's like a comedy show! They make everyone laugh. I'm happy for them.
Sana bit her lip. The words were positive, but her handwriting wasn't steady at all.
"Hayama, you jerk," she whispered.
She shoved the diary back in its drawer and pulled her covers over her head.