Hi, yes, I had such a tiring week, thank God it is friday. Lab work can be exhausting.

I spent a goodly amount of time on this chapter so I hope you enjoy it (: I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors. I didn't have the time to edit it thoroughly. I did however, do a quick once over.

'Warukatta' means I am wrong in Japanese

The rumble of thunder above me reminds me of a divine audience witnessing my deliverance of justice. My leather boots slam against wet asphalt, as I run. Water is trickling down my face, my neck, mingling with sweat. I dash my hand across my face and taste the copper.

I push myself faster. I barely stop as I round the corner. My breath is hitching in and out. The anticipation and the thrill of the hunt rushing through my veins. I call out through the pouring rain, "Hey youuuu…" A loaded smile found its way to my lips. "Keep running. It only makes it more fun till I catch you."

I see his silhouette in the distance, illuminated by the light coming from the window of the opposite building. I watch him stumble and knock over a trashcan. I laugh. I love it. They prolong my pleasure with their cowardice. I step up my speed.

There is no way he can win. He's the prey and I'm the predator. I am now barely fifty metres behind him. I see the panicked look on his face when he turns. He stumbles over a propped up cobblestone regains his balance and keeps running.

Then I am on him. I slam into him. Caught by both his momentum and mine, we make like a crashing truck straight for the concrete wall. He takes the brunt of it because I am behind him. My hands are slick with water and blood, but my fingers close around his wrist. "Hi," I barred my teeth.

"Oh God…oh God." His neck is crammed at an awkward angle as I press my body against his. "What do you want?"

I feel him shift his balance. His hand tears out of my grasp, not that I expected myself to be able to hold him. The knife he has tucked in his belt makes its appearance as he slashes outward at me. "Don't underestimate me you whore!"

I dance back, the street lamp over us giving me visibility despite the water dripping into my eyes. "Atta…watch where you're waving that thing. It's dangerous you know."

He holds up the knife with both hands. It's an attempt to retain a grip in this rain that is drenching us both. But that's useless.

I leaped forward. Stepping my left leg on the ground, and pivoting on it, i used the force to push myself to the right. I avoided his forward slash just as my left leg came up in a round horse kick. The knife flies out of his hand and clatters to the ground.

He lunges for it.

"Tsch." I stuck my foot out and watched dispassionately as he went hurtling to the ground. His singlet is drenched; grime and dirt cling to the fabric. I place a boot on his back, leaned down to grab his short hair. I wrenched his head up and breathed into his ear. "Now, it's just you and me. Can you fathom how happy I am at the moment?"

"What do you want?" he grimaced as I let his head drop back onto the rough pavement.

"You begging for mercy." I paused. "Actually no." I reach into my pocket. There is a click as I take out my switch blade. The handle is polished brown oak coupled with a rubber grip along the edges.

I see the panic in his eyes turn into fear. He starts to struggle to get up.

"Oh stop it. I'm not going to kill you." I reared back and shoved the tip of my boot into his stomach. I watch him whimper as he starts to curl up. I kick him again twice just to make sure he's in too much pain to run away. Pushing him onto the ground, I sit on his back straddling him. I cut his singlet away. The grey fabric falls around his body.

His bare skin is glistering with water.

The tip of cold metal is against his back. I feel him stiffen beneath me. Mercilessly, I push the tip in and start carving letters into his back. He buckles trying to push me over. I dig my heel harder into his side. "The harder you struggle. The deeper this goes in." I whispered. To emphasize that I meant it, I pressed the knife deeper. More blood wells up and is washed down the sides of his body by the rain.

My hands are trembling slightly as I cut the characters into his back. I feel the metal tearing into his skin, cutting through flesh, splitting it. There is almost a familiarity watching it. I must admit, that I am more used to seeing the blood on myself than on someone else.

When I am done, I close my switchblade and tuck it into my jeans pocket. I feel his body shudder and relax beneath me, when he realizes that I am done. I notice that my arm is still bleeding from the cut I received from him earlier before we got caught up in the cat and mouse game. But I disregard it as I admire my handiwork.

I frown. The rain is spoiling everything. I had carved the characters 'wa-ru-katta' into his back. But the blood mingling with the rain has completely obscured the visibility of my 'artwork'. Well whatever.

I get up. Bending down, I grab his shirt collar and hull it towards me. I feel slightly disjointed from the world, as though I'm high on drugs. My eyes meet his, they barely meet for a second before his are averted. "I do hope groping her breast was worth it," I murmured. "What do you think?" I asked pensively. "Hmmm?"

"I…I'm so-orry," he stuttered.

I sigh and look up at the grey and overcast sky. The rain is abating finally. "Totally not answering the question. Well, what do I expect from idiots?" I said out loud to myself. I fling him away from me. "Have a good day, I guess." I blinked as I walked off. I am somewhere…downtown. I don't really know where I am. I'll have to retrace my steps to get back to my bike. I silently apologize to my Ducati for leaving it out in the rain.

I increase my pace. I suppose I should get back quickly and have my hand bandaged. It's been a long time since I've actually got a cut that wasn't out of a deliberate choice.

It takes me longer than expected to find my way back to my baby. Let's just say I wasn't exactly paying attention to the myriad of turns we took from the moment I found the jackass who molested Shizuru and when he started running. I lay a hand on the steel frame of my Ducati. I reached for the jacket that I left on the seat of my bike. I am grateful and surprised someone hasn't stolen it. Shrugging it on, my hand winces in protest as I fit it into the sleeve. I ignore it. It's just a cut. I'm used to things like bleeding. Hell, I obtain a certain satisfaction watching the blood pour out.

I can barely describe the sense of satisfaction that sits in my stomach. I feel like I can have a big bowl of ramen drowning in mayonnaise.

I silently congratulate myself for the past week of hard work where I spent a good many hours loitering downtown late at night. It has paid off. Oh yes, it has.

When I reached the hostel, I had a takeaway bowl of ramen with me. I ignore the looks I get from the few students lurking outside. I know I am totally drenched; my midnight blue hair is plastered to my head in a retarded fashion. My jeans are soaked through too, although that is a good thing since the stain of blood is invisible against the dark denim. I marched to the lift, pressed the floor to my room. I am leaving puddles of water in my wake.

Almost in a daze, I whipped my key out from my pocket and unlocked my room door. Then I stood in the doorway stunned because the lights were on. I vaguely remembered switching them off. I stepped in.

"Hello Na—What happened to you?"

Oh shit. What is she doing in my room? Now of all times.

Shizuru is on her feet and next to me a matter of seconds. She grabs the towel from the rack and my sight is suddenly enveloped in a world of blue cotton.

"Hey hey! Ommph ...Gah." I pushed at the towel.

"Stay still," she commanded. "You're drenched. What were you doing out so late?"

"I uh…Can you put my ramen on the desk?"

Hopefully that will change the topic.

She grabbed it placed it on the table. Then she turned back to me and tugged at my jacket.

Uh oh.

In a second, with brisk and quick motions she had my jacket unzipped.

My hands reach to hold my jacket in place. "I'm alittle cold. I think I'll leave the jacket on."

She brushed them aside. "Rubbish. You need to get out of it. It's soaked."

I steeled myself. When the jacket fell off my shoulders and into her hands, I waited with baited breath.

"Oh my god. What happened to you?" The towel travelled from my mussed up hair to the hand that she now held tenderly. "Did you do this to yourself?"

Obviously she would conclude that. Ever since then…"I urm…yeah." I lied. Well it's not exactly a lie. I did incur the damage myself. What was I supposed to say? Hey, remember the guy who attacked you, and probably tried to rape you. Well, I got it from attacking him. But hey, it's nothing compared to what happened to him. I'm sure that would sit real well with Shizuru.

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Wordlessly, she dragged me to the seat, and sat me down.

Already, I am starting to feel guilty for this lie because she is wordless.

She rummaged through one of my cupboards and retrieved a bandage roll. I am slightly surprised that she knows where I keep my things. But now that I think about it, Shizuru pretty much knows my room inside out.

The slash on my hand has stopped bleeding quite a while back. Right now it is covered with a matt coating of dried blood. The cut itself thankfully, is not deep enough to require stitches. If it had penetrated deeper, I would certainly need them.

"We need to clean it. Obviously, we cannot use the toilet. Imagine the ruckus if one of the students sees this." Shizuru grabbed the bottle of water on my desk, and pulled the trash bin over. Sitting on the bed, she started pouring water on my arm.

I watched as the water droplets ran down the sides of my arm and dripped into the bin.

Reaching over me, she plucked a few pieces of tissue from the box on the table and dabbed gently at my hand. With deft and experienced movements she applied the antiseptic and proceeded to bandage it carefully. When she was done, she laid my injured hand on her lap before looking up at me.

Burgundy eyes caught mine. She sighed. A long, deep one. "Natsuki. I…I don't know what to say."

"You can say whatever you want to say," I replied honestly.

She sat there quiet, I could tell from the way she was postured that she was in deep thought. Finally, she stood up. "Listen carefully," she whispered. Her voice was soft, falling gently like autumn leaves. "These are my words Natsuki." She wrapped her arms around me in a warm embrace. I inhaled her scent in. It is a reassuring smell. I soak in the moment. As a minute passes, I realize she is silent. My head is resting against her chest where I hear the steady beat of her heart. Silence. Silence. And then it hits me. These are her words. This embrace is conveying everything to me.