Title: I Love You So Much It Hurts You
Character(s): Iroha Nekomura, SF-A2 miki
The setting was perfect; the two of them were sitting under a large oak tree situated on a hill just on the outskirts of town. The sun was setting, streaking the sky with magnificent ribbons of golds, reds, and purples. The air was warm with the promise of a swiftly arriving summer. The lazy calls of birds could still be heard while the hum of insects preparing for their nightly symphony filtered through the comfortable haze.
Everything about the moment spoke of promise, growth, possibilities, and, most blatantly, romance.
She could hear her heart thudding in her chest as they sat next to one another. A completely chaste action by anyone's account, but even being in semi-close proximity to him made her feel like the world was spinning ten times faster.
When he scooted closer and gently laid his hand on top of hers, it only made the ragging in her chest and the ragging in her ears grow louder. It was so obnoxious that it almost managed to drown out the words that were issuing forth from his lips. His eyes were intense as he held her gaze and gripped her hand tightly within his own.
This was it.
This was the moment.
This was the moment she had been dreading.
"Iroha," He began quietly, almost nervously, "I...I've been meaning to tell you this for a while now."
"...Yes?" She couldn't stop herself from asking breathlessly. She knew this was going to end badly, but the romantic within her heart wouldn't allow her to stop pushing the plot forward.
"What I mean it...I think I'm...I'm..." He mumbled off into silence before taking a deep breath and setting his face once again, "I think I've fallen in love with you! Will you please go out with me?"
There it was. There were those words she knew were coming and knew she would regret the moment they came out of his mouth. She fought valiantly against the urge rising within her chest, but she knew it was futile. These events had played out with a few boys before him.
The next thing she knew, her fist was buried in his face and the sound of bones cracking broke the serene calm of the early summer evening. Everything seemed to freeze for a split second.
Then came the thud as his body landed on the grown, knocked out cold by her singular punch. Iroha looked at her knuckle covered in blood from his surely broken nose before her sight once more went to the boy who had just confessed his love for her.
"Goddammit!"
She didn't want to be around when he woke up which, judging by past experience, would likely be anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours. Saying a silent prayer to whichever god the boy happened to believe in to watch over him, she descended the hill rapidly and swiftly headed home, all the while cradling her blood-splattered hand to her chest.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Iroha felt her cheeks flare crimson as she glared up at Miki. Wasn't she supposed to be her support in all this? Wasn't that, like, the official job description for older sisters or something?
"It's not funny!" She whined as she continued to wash her hand in the sink, turning the water a faint pink.
"You're right," Miki said between her guffaws, "It's positively hilarious! God, this guy must be a total prick for you to do that to him right after he asks you to go out with him!"
"Of course he's not! He's sweet, kind, considerate, cute..."
"And you repaid him by decking him in the face."
"Well yes, bu-!"
"And leaving him to rot on top of a hill."
"H-He's not going to rot!" Iroha shot back as she dried her hands, "He'll only be out for a few hours at most."
"I don't mean literally rot, I mean emotionally rot." She punctuated her statement with a pointed roll of her eyes.
"Well...maybe we can still be friends or something?"
"Would you want to be friends with someone who knocked you out for no discernible reason?"
"I...guess not," Iroha admitted as she fell to the couch with a heavy sigh. Despite the fact that his blood was now gone from her hand, she couldn't help but continue to stare. Sure this had happened before, in fact, it had happened so many times that she no longer cared to keep count; knowing the number would only serve to depress her.
Yet despite the number of boys she had knocked out, she had never made any of them bleed. Heck, if that sound she heard had been any sort of indicator, she had probably broken his nose!
"Now you're being all depressive," Miki said with a sigh as she sat down next to her little sister, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"What, like the dozens of other times we've talked about this when it happens?"
"Yeah, like those times."
Iroha gave a bitter sigh. Miki was really good at not taking a blatantly obvious hint.
"I don't know. I mean, I like the guy, I really do. It's just that...when they ask me out, my brain freaks out. I want to tell them yes, but I'm too frightened to. Then I think that I just can't up and leave him and apparently my brain thinks the next logical step is to knock out the poor guy and runaway when they're out cold..."
"Gosh, why are you such a weirdo? Why can't you just runaway in tears like a normal girl?"
"But that would be so rude!"
"And punching him is polite?"
"Well no, but I just can't stop it! Some instinct takes over and before I can do anything, I find my fist buried in his face!"
"I guess the fact that you have freakish strength probably doesn't help with that situation."
"No! It doesn't! Every time they end up knocked flat to the ground!"
"Mhmm, Mhmm," Miki said as she pulled her hand to her chin and began to turn her head side-to-side as she evaluated her sister, "Well, I've found out the one way to solve this problem."
"Really?!" Iroha said hopefully as she turned to look at her, "What?!"
There was a pregnant pause as Miki purposefully let the tension build before a wide smile split her features, "You need to find a boy who's a masochist."
"...Excuse me?"
"Yeah, think about it. If he's a masochist, then getting punched in the face would be the most perfect answer to a confession he could ask for!"
"...What kind of response it that?!"
"It's the best kind of response."
With that statement made, Miki stood from the couch and headed up the stairs, leaving Iroha to stare dumbly after her until she disappeared around a corner at the top of the stairs. For a few moments, Iroha could do nothing more than stare in the direction her sister had disappeared. Slowly, her eyes once more settled on her hand.
"...I wonder if there are any masochists at school..."
A/N: I was writing serious things. I got fed up with it, so I wrote this instead.
This chapter can also be known as "Ryuchu's attempt (and failure) at humor". No idea where the concept for this one came from; I just randomly got the image of a girl socking a guy in the face when he confessed and I found it to be amusing enough that I thought maybe some other odd person in the world might be amused by it.
...I feel like I can write really random/stupid/bizarre things in this collection 'cause I'm pretty sure no one is going to read it.
