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CHAPTER EIGHT

STEADY ARMS

"Liking somebody you really don't want to like, but you can't help it . . ."

Unknown


SHE WOULDN'T EXACTLY consider herself an expert in anything, but she could say that she had a lot of knowledge . . . in almost everything that was Okumura Rin. She could have wrote a book about him if need be. Born the eldest of a set of twins on December twenty-seventh to Fujimoto Shiro, he was sixteen-years-old, five foot nine, loved cooking, and was about as school-oriented as a flock of pigeons. The teenager willingly told her all of this information at least once. If she wanted to know something about him, all she had to do was ask about it. He never hesitated. Never felt uncomfortable with her questions. He had his own personal answer, his own personal opinion, his own personal experience—own personal story for everything.

Nami, on the other hand, felt reluctance with every piece of information she gave out. She wasn't too sure if she should be exposing little details about herself to a boy that she desperately wanted to stray away from. It was Tuesday—days after she had thrown up in the physical education room because of him. Was he going to cause her demise if he stayed around her like this? Did he like tormenting her? Was there a chance that he knew he was doing this? Did he know that she had an undeniable crush on him . . . pointy ear cartilage and all? Was that why he was telling her his whole life's story? To mess with her head?

She felt her teeth dig into the flesh of her bottom lip. Was there a possibility that she had been figured out? She had made sure that she kept everything locked up to herself. Even if that meant being mean to him. She regretted it, sure, whenever that look of dejection crossed onto his face. But, that was why she was the way she was. So that he wouldn't have leverage to hurt her in the future.

The entire day. She had spent the entire day with the boy to soften the blow of her rudely walking out on him last night. He seemed to have forgotten all about it, but it was unlikely for that to happen. He was a man of his word, and if she had made him feel rejected yesterday, it was going to carry on into today . . . he was just going to make sure that no one knew.

"Are you sure about this?"

Her gaze trailed up from her shoes to the boy walking beside her. Hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans, his eyebrows were furrowed past the point of no return, waiting for her to answer.

After cram school, Yukio suggested the idea of pages linking up with the exwires to get a head start on the Exwire Authorization Test. Pages had scrambled around the room in search of one of the few exwires to help them out. Miwa, in particular, looked completely stumped when a girl walked up to him for help. Asaki had marched off with Izumo in the swarm of bodies. Ryuji was declining students left and right. It was of no shock to anyone that Nami and Rin gathered their things and walked out of class together. It was a message unspoken. With a silent glance, she knew that they were going to partner up.

But now, he was asking permission. It was a bit odd to hear someone like him asking if their actions were okay. When they left the classroom, he had looked so set on helping her—it was almost pointless for her to refuse. It was as if she had turned him down, he would have went along with her anyways. Not this time. His face—eyes held steady and bottom lip jutting out the tiniest amount—held reluctance . . . most likely because she had been rude to him last night.

Nami sucked in a breath. "Might as well. We're already there," she tried.

He simply nodded as the sight of the dormitory came into view. Four stories high, painted a tan-brown colour, and ridden with students hanging around the front, her dorm building wasn't the most quiet place ever. Girls walked in and out of the open double doors. A few of them were laughing so loud that she could have heard them miles away. Three boys and a girl walked in when the two of them reached the front entrance. Just like her, everyone else must not have cared about the NO BOYS IN THE GIRLS' DORMITORIES AFTER EIGHT O'CLOCK rule. Though it was only six, those boys looked like they weren't going anywhere.

She would have rather studied at Rin's dorm building. It was quiet save for the two demon creatures running about. Yukio never really came home until late due to his job as a teacher. Because of that, that would have meant that she and him would have had the who building to themselves again. The silence could have helped her study. But no, she pulled the doors of her building open to reveal girls lounging around like they had nothing better to do with their lives.

She went up the stairs with him following behind as if he would get lost any second. It was highly unlikely since he was bigger than everyone here. Though, she gave him the benefit of the doubt, making sure he was close before she weaved through the mass of teenage girls. He muttered an apology when he bumped into a girl with glasses.

Room six-six-seven was at the very end of the hall. Being on the fourth floor, she could no longer hear the stomping of feet above the ceiling. Her fingers fumbled to get the key inside of the lock, but paused when she saw a pair of red eyes watching her. She could see Izumo staring at her through the corner of her eye. It had almost began to become an everyday occurrence. The girl's dorm, the one she shared with her short-haired brunette friend, was right across the hall from hers. Purple hair pulled up into a tight bun and the tan uniform vest pulled off, she narrowed her eyes at the two of them.

Rin's eyebrows shot up in confusion. "What?" he asked the girl. She let out a scoff before disappearing back into her room, giving Nami a glimpse of her cousin sitting in the room. Rin let out a whistle when the door closed behind her. "Well, okay then . . ."

What was her problem? Why did it always appear as if Izumo had a thing against her. Nonetheless, Nami pushed open the door, and let the boy into her room for the first time ever. She was suddenly self-conscious. What if he seen something embarrassing? Her eyes scanned the area over. Asaki's side was as neat as always, girly nicknacks scattered throughout her space like a child's toys. Nami's side, however, was clean . . . except for the blankets tossed around her bed. It looked like a tornado had hit it. She glanced up to see him staring at it. Was he going to judge her? As if reading her mind, he suddenly let out an obnoxious laugh.

It was then did it hit her. She was worried about the same guy who had days old jeans lying around his floor thinking her room was messy. Where was the logic in that?

He walked further into the room to look out of her window. "So, how are we going to do this?"

"I don't know," she said truthfully, closing the door behind them. Her mattress squeaked when she plopped down on it. The first thing she was was take off her thigh highs. It was out of habit. "You're my tutor. I thought you had a plan all figured out."

"Good point." He turned around from the window to sit criss-cross on the floor in front of her. With a shrug, he pulled the black schoolbag off of his shoulder. It was placed on the wooden floor, his hands reaching inside of it to fish out the notes for today. "We can start anywhere. As long as it's not math, we should be fine. I suck at that."

She pulled out her own notes. "Math in the Authorization Test?"

"Hush. I was just saying that in case you needed me to help you with anything else . . . which I will do . . . as long as it's not math."

"You can start by telling me what this test is about, anyways."

"Right. That would be a smart idea . . ." His sharp nails scratched at the back of his head. Would that have hurt? Would that have felt nice? She shook away the idea of him scratching her head. It wasn't necessary . . . and it was weird. Though, that didn't stop her own hand from reaching up to scratch her head. "The test is in two parts: the written one and a field test. The field test pretty much bases you on how good your teamwork skills are, so stick with your group and you should be fine. The written test on the other hand—"

"You failed it, didn't you?" she mumbled. He took his bottom lip between his teeth.

She bit back the urge to laugh at his guilty face, which was strange considering that she hardly ever laughed. Was this what being attracted to someone did? It made people on high alert. It made people nauseous. The cartoons and the stories made having an attraction to someone seem like a fairytale. Like you will smile every ten seconds and skip when you walk. That wasn't true. Crushing on someone brought on a dizzy feeling, helplessness, and more emotions than she was physically ready to put on display.

They said that it would be easy. They lied. This was the hardest thing that she had ever went through. It was more difficult than growing up without anyone to talk to. And, in all honesty, she was sort of wishing that she could go back to that rather than feeling like this.

Was it obvious that she spent most of her time wrapped up in her thoughts? She had always been the bluntly honest type of person. Now she had to think before she spoke. Just thinking about it gave her a headache. No, life in general right now gave her a headache. And to think, none of this inner destruction would be happening if it weren't for him asking for a pencil that day. It felt like so long ago. It felt like she had been stuck in this loop for years now.

The sound of snapping fingers pulled her out of her thoughts. Her attention focused again, aiming directly at the black-haired boy staring at her in confusion. He ran a tongue over his elongated canines before smirking the tiniest bit. She shot him a glare. What was he smirking at? What was so amusing to him? Had he caught her escaping into her own mind?

"Hmm . . . You're such an interesting cow," he mused. Nami wanted to scowl. There was that word again. It had been days since he had called her that, but it felt like it happened every day. He let out a heavy breath. "Chop, chop. We have work to do, Nami. Or do you want me to leave and let you fail the test by yourself?"

"You wouldn't do that," she teased. God, what was going on? She was teasing him?

Instead of threatening about how he would like she thought he was going to do, he blinked at her. Three times. Hours seemed to pass before he ran another hand through his messy hair. "There goes that damn face again," he grumbled. What face? Why was he always talking about a face? Endless amounts of questions were running through her head. It was probably due to the fact that the boy made her question her sanity. "Do you have a hair clip?"

Nodding, she stood up and walked over to her dresser. She didn't ask why he needed a hair clip. Her hands fished through her drawers to retrieve the item. Once it was found, she passed it over to him, sitting back on her bed next to her work. He put it in his hair. His fingers combed through his inky strands until they were pulled back, clipping the clip there so that they wouldn't hang in his eyes like usual. It allowed her to see his face better. She could make out the ultra long eyelashes framing his eyes now. Jeez . . . he was trying to kill her.

"All right. Now we can get to work." He clapped his hands together to show false enthusiasm. Then, pointing a long finger at her, he put on his best talk show host voice. "Hirasawa Nami, give me a general break down of demons—"

She cut him off with a raise of my hand. "Rin?"

His eyebrows raised. "Huh?" he answered. His talk show voice was thrown out of the window. It was now replaced by wonder.

"Yesterday you told Yukio that I make a certain face," she started. She wasn't too sure if she wanted to know the answer to this. But, her curiosity was getting the best of her. "And you said it just now. What are you talking about? Do I make an ugly face or something?"

Once again, his reaction wasn't expected. He snickered at her. "Ugly face? Not even close. Your bottom lip pouts out and your eyebrows furrow right here—" He reached over to jab his index finger right between her eyebrows, "—it's the perfect puppy dog face. You can get people to do whatever you want them to like that. It's a weapon that should be illegal, really."

Maybe she was looking too much into it, but had he just sort of called her non-ugly? Was that a compliment? Or was he saying that he would rather have had her look ugly than the way she did now? Either way it went, she didn't know, and she sure as hell wasn't going to ask.

"I make the puppy dog face?"

"You don't know that you're doing it?" He sounded genuinely shocked.

And that was it. Though she wanted to put it off for as long as possible—being the lazy person she was—she knew that she couldn't. She sat there and let him tell her bits of information that she tried her hardest to hold on to. Rin always claimed that he didn't know a lot of things, but when it came to this stuff, he had it wrapped around his finger. Or, at least, that's what it looked like to her. He probably could have sat there for hours to tell her everything he knew. And he might have if it weren't for the fact that he was only a exwire, and didn't know far too much himself.

She noticed how his toned changed with each subject he spoke about. When it was concerning peaceful demons, he spoke like a kid gushing about his older siblings. When it came to the meaner ones, his tone was dripped in acid. She could tell if it was good or bad by simply looking at the gleam in his eye. The look of someone who was passionate about something. He must really wanted to be an exorcist.

First came the filling-in of facts. Second came the notes. Then came the quiz. She was surprised; he actually quizzed her. There was no kidding around. He did exactly what he came here to do. It was a relief, yet a bit of a disappointment to her. When she imagined him coming over, she imagined him making a ruckus and searching through all of her things. But no, he sat there with his hair pulled back, still and quiet, and made sure she did, too.

When she got restless, he would give her this look. It was the look a mother would give to a misbehaving child. It was a look that screamed 'sit down and pay attention.' Not that she minded. He was making sure she passed this test, and she couldn't complain about that.

"Did you practice holding your gun?" he asked.

She looked up from the pile of notes that she was surrounded in. Her floor was littered in papers written on the fronts and the backs. The setting sun was no longer beaming through the window. Instead, the light from the full moon was shining inside. Stars and gray clouds accompanied it, filling in the dark sky. The chatter of teenage girls throughout the halls the dorm had died down to a small buzz every now and then. Sneaking a quick glance at his phone beside him, she read the time. It was seven forty-five.

To be fair, the last time she had even picked up a gun was when she fired Yukio's last night. He seemed to be able to tell because he let out a sigh. Was she supposed to be practicing with it every day? She didn't know these things. She barely knew how to squeeze a trigger.

Rin started gathering up his pile of papers. That meant that their study session was coming to an end. Good. She was getting sleepy. "You know that your gun is bigger and heavier than Yukio's, right? It's not the same thing. He was just teaching you posture and how to squeeze a trigger," he tried. Nami shrugged; she didn't know any better. He sighed again. "Go get it. You're gonna have to learn how to work that thing if you want to pass the field test."

He was right. She should have known better. She didn't know why she thought shooting Yukio's gun for all of forty minutes was going to solve her problems. Getting up, she reached into the space between her mattress and the wall to get her weapon, pulling it out. Rin stood up and unzipped the black case. In sat the rifle, surrounded by ammo packs, magazines, and a giant warning label. For someone who was scared out of their mind when she and Yukio were shooting yesterday, he clearly didn't have a problem yanking it out. With a pull of one the levers, the ammo pack fell out. A thick, golden bullet tumbled out of the barrel as well. The thing was loaded this whole time. Did he know that?

He waved the gun toward her. "Here."

Oh. He wanted her to do this now. She pried it from his hands to show that she wasn't backing down to a challenge. As soon as it was in her grip, she felt her knees almost buckle from the sudden weight. It felt as it the weapon had gained ten pounds since the last time she held it. She pointed it like she had pointed Yukio's gun last night. But, this time, her arms were wobbling all over the place.

Rin snorted. "This is so sad," he teased.

"Oh, shut up. This thing is heavy."

"That's because you're holding it wrong."

Then she felt it. The immediate warmth that his body seemed to radiate when he was close enough for her to feel it. Hands moved over her arms, causing goosebumps to rise on the skin. He was standing behind her. She could tell by the sound of him breathing next to her ear. The familiar tingling sensation swarmed her cheeks. She wasn't going to risk him seeing her blushing by turning around.

"You put this part in your shoulder. You see that? It's shaped like a shoulder." He made it sound like he was speaking to a four-year-old. In that moment, Nami couldn't have cared less. She let him tuck the rifle into the right position. It it weren't for the fact that she was still reeling from when he held her hand last weekend, she wouldn't have did it. Any contact was better than none. Especially since she didn't know when the next one was coming . . . if it was going to come. "Put your eye on the scope. See that dot in the middle? That's where you're aiming. Got it?"

She nodded. "Aye, aye, Captain," she answered. It was almost as if she could feel him rolling his eyes behind her.

"Yukio said this thing has a lot of power, so you're gonna want to grip it as tight as you can." She could feel him leaning closer. So close that his breath was right on her ear. Her face grew even hotter. Was he doing this on purpose? "Hold your arms steady or it'll fly up when you shoot. I'd feel bad if I gave you something that eventually blew your hand off."

This thing could blow her hands off? She was rethinking the whole rifle situation.

"How do you know all this?" she murmured.

"The way everyone else learned. Video games." Nami felt him shrug against her back. Video games. Of course. She rolled her eyes at his answer. "Now put your finger on the trigger, and . . ."

The whole scenario was stressful. If her hair already hadn't been white, she was sure that he would have just given her a few snowy strands. He was so close. Close enough for her to smell the mint laced into his breaths. She wanted nothing more than to shove him away from her, but, deep down—way deep—she knew that was the last thing that she wanted. Her walls were trying to stand their ground . . . but he was good at jumping over them.

She didn't know what she had been expecting. Whatever it was, it stopped her from breathing, her lungs filling up with air she was too afraid to release. Would he keep her in his arms like this for a while longer? Even if her guard was begging him not to? Suddenly, his warmth was gone, and replaced by a sharp slap on her back. She flinched. Him hitting her wasn't what she imagined at all.

"Bang! They're dead. You did it—high five!"

Her head slowly turned to see if he was serious or not. Sure enough, he was holding up an awaiting palm. He had got her heart racing for nothing. Green eyes narrowed at blue ones. Nonetheless, she slapped her hand against his, making him give her a wide grin. Talk about anticlimatic.

He picked his phone up off of the floor. With the swipe of a thumb, three large numbers flashed across the screen. "It's eight o'clock," he announced. She knew what that meant. It was time for him to leave. If he stayed any longer, he would run the risk of him getting caught. If he was caught sneaking out of the girls' dormitories after eight o'clock . . . it wouldn't look too pretty. "Time to go before they try to suspend me again."

Again?

A look of confusion twisted onto her face as he put his notebook back into his bag. He was suspended before? She had never pictured kind Okumura Pointy-Ears to be the type to get in serious trouble. But, she chose not to ask. It was a question that could come up tomorrow. He'd tell her. He told her everything else.

"Do you know your way out?" she asked when he started for the door. He nodded, gripping onto the silver handle. Before he left, there was one more thing she had to know. "Rin, wait," she called. He stopped to look down at her. "Was the field test easier for you?"

For the first time since she met him, he looked speechless. His mouth opened to answer her question, only for it to shut seconds later. That wasn't a good sign. That meant that he had some complications during his Exwire Authorization Exam.

Settling on an answer, he replied, "Just rely on Asaki. You'll be fine. And if you're ever not fine, just call me."

"Thanks, but I don't think you can make personal calls during a test."

"Hey, you can if you sneak into a bush." He shrugged. With that, he pulled the door open. "'Night."

"Goodnight." Nami waved. She watched him walk out into the hallway, the red katana case slung over his shoulder like it always was. When he was down the stairs, she let out a silent groan. Damn, it happened again. She let him get to her. She let him see a side of her that she would lock away forever. She had let him see her caring. "Damn it . . ."

"I never thought I'd see the day."

Nami's head turned in search of the source of the voice. Asaki stood against the door frame of Izumo's room. She must have just finished studying, too. Her arms were folded over her chest. Her blonde ponytail swayed behind her in an accusing way. Well, more like her demeanor itself was very accusing.

Nami's eyebrows furrowed. "See the day what?"

"The day that this happened. You like Rin-kun, don't you?" Asaki asked.

Nami scrunched up her nose. It was more because she had just called him 'Rin-kun' than being accused of crushing. But, then it hit her like a ton of bricks. Asaki knew how she felt. Was it that obvious? Her previous look of irritation shifted into one of complete loathing. Who else knew that she liked him? Did he know that she liked him? Was that why he was being so nice to her? Pity friendliness?

"I don't like him, Asaki," she mumbled. She rolled her eyes, walking back into their dorm with the blonde right behind her. "I don't. I hardly like anyone."


Hello, everyone! I apologize for taking so long to update. I moved to a new house and it was hard to get my inspiration flowing again because of the change of scenery. But now I'm okay, and I'm ready to write!

~ Insane