Hello again, everyone~! Jeeze. Has anyone heard of Sam Tsui? I listened to him on repeat while writing this stuff out. Go look him up. He's FANTASTIC. Yes, he deserves the all-caps treatment. That's how amazing he is.

Anyway. Another chapter~! Drop me a line. I like those. A lot. I don't even mind haters. Fo shizzle, ma rizzle. Okay, I'm done. Oh, has anyone noticed that McDonald's is using their logo on their napkins? WEIRD. Okay, now I'm actually done. Promise.

Disclaimer: I kinda hate doing these. NO. I don't own Nezumi. Or anyone else.

Stage Three: Annoyance

It was actually kinda creepy of me to keep an eye on you for four years, wasn't it? Yeah, it probably was. But you never questioned what I did tell you and just took me at my extremely unreliable word. You were so trusting. You trusted me instantly. Some part of me was happy you did. Most of me thought you were an idiot. All of me knew it was going to annoy the hell out of me. Your trust was something you extended to everyone.

It would get you killed in the West Block.

I told you as much. You asked why. Like a four year old child, the questions just kept pouring out of you. A small part of me was absolutely fascinated at the sheer amount of question you could ask and how you managed to ask them so quickly. The rest of me wished you'd shut up and figure out some of the answers yourself. I wasn't a teacher. I wasn't a patient and indulgent parent.

And you weren't a child anymore.

But you still acted like one sometimes. I knew you'd been sheltered from how harsh the world can be – how cruel it usually was. I knew you'd never faced life-threatening danger. I thought I was prepared for how naïve you'd be. I was wrong. Your idealistic dreamer's view of the world drove me crazy sometimes. Couldn't you see, by looking around you, that the West Block was a vicious place? Didn't you feel the murderous intent lingering in the air? Were you actually that dense?

Worst part about it was that your condition was obviously contagious.

I started letting down my guard – not just around you; it happened around people who would exploit that weakness. I was angry at myself for letting it happen. I was angry at you for finding cracks in my defenses. Sometimes I wanted to hate you for finding your way to my core so easily.

Maybe you were already there.

Whatever it was you were doing, I wanted you to stop. I wanted to push you away. I wanted to be honestly annoyed at you for everything. Didn't you see what you were doing to me?

But I couldn't do any of it.

I don't know why. Maybe I was a masochist enjoying the confusion and pain of feeling so many conflicting things at once.

No. That wasn't it. I couldn't do it because I knew it'd hurt you. For some reason, the thought of hurting you hurt me more than anything else; and I was no stranger to pain. Sadness didn't belong in your eyes. Sadness I'd put there? I couldn't do it.

I could never break you.