Don't judge me.

Fujii would have preferred by far to let off steam in the comfort of her bed, covered with the sheets up to her head, hiding from the pain that she always kept deep down like a chest locked under seven keys... but Yohei's innocent comment suddenly opened that chest, releasing their emotions so violently that she couldn't keep them inside and they escaped in droves right in front of the person who least had to witness a moment of weakness like that.

The worst thing was feeling that a small part of her—in considerable increase as time passed—was indeed relieved to have him around. What a confusion!

Clinging to Yohei's wounded hand, Fujii continued to sob silently with her head down, where her short hair didn't cover her face. She wanted to apologize for so much drama and tried to speak; of course, it did not work. The good news was that the anguish soon began to subside, albeit slowly, but with enough rhythm for her to breathe and compose herself a bit.

Yohei watched her in completely silence, lost. The girls were a world apart for him: beautiful, sensitive, smiling, charming, shy... He slowly parted his lips, showing subtly vulnerable for a thousandth of a second, freed as rarely from his challenging expression. Whatever the reason for that deep sadness in the girl who didn't let go of his hand, he realized that he wanted to do something for her, whatever it was, to calm her down a bit.

Nothing occurred to him. Hanamichi and his friends were easy to give encouragement, but with her, it was needed to improvise.

He got up from the chair and took a step towards Fujii, who raised her face a little in his direction, noticing that now he was very close. Color rose quickly to her soggy cheeks. As she was shorter than he was, a curious secure, protective feeling coming from his strong male torso made her shiver again.

"What are you doing, Mito-kun?" She wondered in the midst of the reckless awakening of her heart.

Interestingly, Yohei also blushed a little when imagining the scene as a casual observer. But this was not the time to analyze what he was doing, just to act.

He put his left hand in his pocket and took out Fujii's handkerchief, which he kept washed to give her when he had the chance. His intention was to do it now, but as he stretched out his hand, it seemed to acted on its own by stroking Fujii's cheek with the back. He did it slowly and carefully, barely rubbing the wet with his knuckles. He repeated the process on her other cheekbone, this time using his fingertips and part of the handkerchief. His heart started pounding suddenly as he took in what he was doing. He had never felt the need to comfort a girl before, but Fujii awakened new feelings within him that he did not know how to handle.

And Fujii? On the verge of nervous breakdown. Her breathing had become paralyzed, and in a moment of extraordinary clarity, she was able to fully understand Haruko and her hysteria for Rukawa. She felt like she was gasping for air, not remembering that she still held Yohei's injured hand in hers, clearly transmitting the sweat, the slight trembling, and the anxiety running through that makeshift union.

That lasted for seconds that seemed like hours, but Yohei saw out of the corner of his eye that there was movement behind the door, so he sat down quickly and took Fujii's hands away, apologizing with his eyes just as a teacher entered. She would have felt bad if she hadn't caught the intense blush on his cheeks. Yohei Mito, the violent and rowdy boy from Wako High School, blushing? It was not to be believed.

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Love and happiness for everyone.

Stacy Adler.