"OW GOD DAMMIT!"
Stitches. 5 stitches. Isshin (who I'd taken to calling Goat-Chin as Karin does) at least had the decency to ask me what color thread I would like. Kurosaki, however…well, that was an entirely different story.
The meeting (Yuzu calls it a meeting, I call it hell) went something like this:
I winced every time the needle threaded through my skin. And they'd put god-damned peroxide on—peroxide. Actually, Kurosaki had poured the peroxide on; an unholy smirk on his face as he gave me what I was sure was an overdose. Damned Carrot. Speaking of…
"Stop whining already. It was your fault you cut yourself."
Oh, haha, rub salt in the wound, why don'cha? I felt like punching him, but my right hook was at the moment, unusable, and well, unless I wanted to cause myself more pain than I was in now—you get the point. Anyways, I glared at him, which should make him scared, not smirk.
"And it was you who threw the food," I repeated apathetically. Almost robotically.
"Would you just shut up?"
I gave this a moment of consideration.
"No."
A particularly vicious jab of the needle and a round of fierce swearing later, I was all stitched up and bandaged. I didn't know whether I should rejoice or cry because I had nothing to punch the damned Carrot with anymore. My left hand was rather weak…
This brought me to where I was now, when I had forgotten that particular incapability and thought, what the hell, I can't be anymore screwed than I already am—and I went ahead and punched the damned Carrot anyways.
The result was—for lack of a better word—pathetic. Truth be told, my arms weren't really that strong to begin with, and well, with the additional injury (both figuratively and literally), the impact hurt me more than it hurt the damned Carrot, who appeared to be barely affected.
Damned Carrot.
"I heard that, you psycho!"
"I don't give a shit!"
This damned place was making me cuss a lot, more cuss words than Naoki knew, and Naoki (my little brother) knew a damn lot. And there it was again, the damn homesickness that I'd gotten used to. Sad, really. A sudden breeze made me shiver, having have had to abandon my cozy windbreaker after it got soaked with blood.
And of course—
"You have to go shopping for clothes."
Have you ever watched the judge pound the gavel to sentence some criminal to an electrocution, or perhaps more years in jail than you could possibly live? That's what I felt; drowning in a hopeless pool of misery at the fate that I could not possibly escape. Worst of all—
"It's for your own good," Yuzu intoned patiently. My brows scrunched together in what I hoped was a scary effect—but obviously not, judging from the damned Carrot laughing about my uni-brow.
"IT'S NOT FOR MY OWN GOOD, DAMMIT! I'M GONNA DIE! I'M GONNA MELT IN A WAY THAT PUTS THE WICKED WITCH OF THE WEST TO SHAME! I'M GONNA BE A BLOB OF JELLO—"
"Would you SHUT UP!" That was the uh-mazing wonder-boy Carrot (Kurosaki). And damn, my glares really should make him tremble in fear, not shake in barely contained laughter. So instead of waiting for a victory (that I was robbed of), I opted for the easy way out; running. Luckily, that happened to be the one thing I was good at. Back at school, I'd been the track team's star—which was saying a lot since my school had oodles of talent.
So of course, Kurosaki couldn't catch up to me—wrong. The damned boy was slowly gaining, and once again, I felt as if I was being buried alive with a malicious hammer sealing my fate. Ah, worms, please don't eat me. But damn if I was going to submit. Hell no I was going to die in a freaking anime world! I urged my legs ever faster, and seriously? By now, I believed my speed exceeded Olympic. So, Kurosaki, you are good for something.
Seeing I was way ahead of him, I turned around and jeered.
"So long, slow-poke-carrot!"
Oh no. Oh fuck no. Say it with me now:
I, Izumi fucking Rei, tripped. Over a microscopic chink in the armor of the glistening concrete. And—of course this happens—my jeans, my favorite pair of jeans (they hadn't come cheap you know, Abercrombies are EXPENSIVE—but the super hot half-naked eye candy dudes they have for models make up for it) ripped. So now I have two tears in the already fashionably teared jeans. I was torn between crying over my jeans and committing mass murder.
Well, at least I wasn't bleeding.
Yuzu extended her hand which I gratefully took. Testing out my knees, I found them to be in condition. After giving me a once over, Yuzu started dragging me towards—
A cloud of doom settled upon me. Somewhere in the background, the carrot laughed. Well, he laughed until Yuzu glared at him and told him he was coming along for 'male opinion.'
Hang on, let me process that.
"I'M GONNA DIE!"
A/N: Yeah, this is pretty intense.
Parody Thingy:
Yuzu: Okay, I'll take this one and this one and this one—
Rei: (mocks) and this one and this one and this one!
Yuzu: Good taste! Okay, can I get a fitting room for Rei-san?
Rei: (twitch)
Ichigo: Feh. Dumbass.
Rei: I'm going to kill you. (smiles)
Yuzu: GET ALONG!
Both: H-h-h-a-ai
