Chapter 2

"Are you… okay?"

She moved forward hesitantly, both hands clenched tightly, one around her phone and one around the mace she was now happy her parents insisted she carry. The man was sitting against the wall, head bowed so that all she could see of him was his dark and spiky hair, and his black leather jacket that looked as though it had seen better days. The alley they were in was only dimly lit by a streetlight at either end, but she was almost certain that she could see blood on his hands.

"Why did you do that?" He spoke without looking up.

"Do what?"

She paused in her approach, but still felt it was safe enough to lower her mace and pull her thumb away from where she'd been poised to dial 9-1-1. After all, he wasn't the one who'd been beating somebody senseless with his gang buddies.

"Get involved like a fuckin' idiot. What, did you think you were Wonder Woman or something?"

The sardonic and biting tone to his voice made her eyes narrow in a glare. Before she'd consciously decided to do so she was throwing out her own retort.

"Oh, you mean saving your life? You're welcome, by the way."

She pocketed her mace and phone, crossing her arms and huffing.

"Didn't ask for your help," he scoffed, finally deigning to look up at her. The light was far too dim to see his face clearly, his features mostly shrouded in shadow. He paused for a brief moment and then snorted, though the action was quickly followed by a wince. "More like Tinkerbell, actually."

"So what, I should have let them have their way with you?"

"Shoulda minded your own damn business."

The man pulled his legs closer to himself, bracing himself against the wall and using it to leverage himself into a standing position — wincing the entire time. Her scowl softened as she saw how much trouble it took him just to stand and how much of his weight he was letting the wall support. He was clearly trying to maintain a bravado, but she could tell just from looking that he at least had some bruised ribs, probably a dislocated shoulder if the way he'd favored his left side was any indication, and possibly even a concussion. She wasn't entirely sure how hard he'd hit his head when he'd been thrown against the wall. There was no telling exactly what had happened before she'd showed up either. Somehow she didn't think he'd be very forthcoming with that information.

She twirled her hair tightly around her finger and bit her bottom lip.

"You're hurt." It was the only thing she could come up with, lame as it sounded.

He gave her a deadpan look in response.

"Nah, Tink, I'm always like this."

Part of her bristled at the nickname, but the other part compelled her forward, ignoring the way the man stiffened as she approached. Out of habit, she reached out to gently probe at his apparently injured side. He shied away from her touch, trying to back up before he realized he was completely backed against the wall and moving sideways instead.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?"

She looked up at him — he was decently taller than her — annoyance flashing across her features.

"Hold still and let me see how bad it is."

She reached out again, only to have him wrap his fingers around her wrists. Their eyes met, and she finally paused long enough to take in his features. His lips were parted slightly, twisted into a scowl and set underneath an angular nose. His dark bangs fell into his eyes, eyes that were a peculiar color she still couldn't quite discern in the dim lighting, but she could swear they were almost… gold.

Her breath caught in her throat at the intensity in his eyes and the suddenness of his movement. She felt herself freezing completely, unable to look away from his gaze. She'd thought that her pulse had slowed from the adrenaline rush she'd gotten earlier, but now she felt it racing again.

"I don't need your help."

Natsumi frowned at this.

"You're hurt. Badly. You could have a concussion, bruised ribs, and tell me if I'm wrong, but your shoulder is dislocated too. Or are you always like this?" She asked, looking pointedly at his shoulder.

He didn't answer, eyes surveying her skeptically as though the two of them were in a mental tug-of war and he hadn't expected her to put up a fight. She stared back. She wasn't about to let him intimidate her when she'd seen him getting his ass beat only a handful of minutes before this.

Finally, after what seemed like eternity, he was the one to break eye contact as he released her wrists. He stared at the end of the alleyway, expression almost… petulant? But he wasn't trying to leave and his hands were now hanging at his sides, so she reached towards him again, slowly.

The man tensed and then flinched when her fingers touched him, gently sliding up his side and across his ribs. Whether the actions were from pain or something else, she didn't know. She bit her bottom lip again and then suddenly she was pushing his jacket out of the way to place her fingers directly against the thin fabric of his t-shirt. He hissed and jerked away, causing her to look up at him sharply.

"Calm down there, Dracula."

"Bite me, Tinkerbell."

She rolled her eyes, ignoring the nickname and pulling her hands back.

"Well there's not much I can do for the bruised ribs, but you should definitely get to the hospital so they can check you out."

"Pass."

"Don't be an idiot. Your shoulder's definitely dislocated, and if you have a concussion you should be held overnight for observation."

"Thanks for the diagnosis, doc, but I'll take it from here."

He pushed himself off the wall, brushing past her and starting towards the end of the alley.

"Hey!"

Reflexively, she grabbed his arm — careful to make sure it was his uninjured arm — and stopped him in his tracks. She had no idea why he didn't want to go to the hospital and she knew she definitely wouldn't get an answer for that question, but she couldn't just let him walk away either.

"Let go."

"Come back to my place," she blurted out before the words had even registered in her mind.

The silence stretched long and tense between them, the pair frozen in place. It was quiet for so long that Natsumi started to wonder if she'd actually said the words out loud, or only thought them. Then, he turned and looked over his shoulder at her, eyebrow raised and drawing her attention to the fact that his forehead was bleeding. Their eyes met and his lips quirked up into a smirk. Heat immediately flooded to her cheeks.

"Movin' a little fast, ain'tcha, Tink?"

"Shut up! You know what I mean. Either come back to my place and I'll bandage you up, or I'll call 911 and they'll take you to the hospital."

"What makes you think you can make me do either of those things?"

The fact that he hadn't yanked his arm away from her grip yet was a pretty good indicator.

"Call it intuition."

"Might wanna get that checked out then, 'cause I think it's broken."

"I'll get right on that," she quipped and then paused. "At least let me clean up your forehead. I could probably pop your shoulder back into place too."

"Probably? You inspire such confidence."

All at once she noticed that sometime during their conversation either he or she — or maybe even both of them — had stepped closer, causing the distance between them to shrink. Their arms were no longer extended fully. She looked down at where her fingers had slid down to his wrist and then back up at him. She didn't have a witty comeback on the tip of her tongue this time.

"It won't take long. My place isn't too far from here."

"You do realize you're trying to convince a complete stranger you found in a fistfight in an alleyway to come to your house, right?"

Well, when you put it like that...

She hesitated, warnings from her parents, her friends, even from the pamphlets for the university she was attending flashing through her mind. And in the next breath she realized she wasn't going to heed any of them. The words that came out of her mouth next shouldn't have been so certain, shouldn't have been nearly half as certain as she realized she felt.

"I don't think you'd hurt me."

There was no reason for her to be sure of this at all and several, in fact, for her to think the opposite. But she was sure of it all the same.

"You should think harder then."

She didn't say anything to that, instead staring determinedly up the distance between them, never relaxing her grip on his wrist. The dark-haired man sighed, reaching up only slightly with his free hand before he cringed in pain and lowered it again.

"Yeah, fine, okay. Lead the way."