NeonHorizon: Remember Chisaki's plan...?
Sayuri glanced at her image in the camera of her phone, checking the side of her neck where Dabi had left a mark. There was no sign of the mark now thanks to a paint fight breaking out at the school. She got paint on her cheek and clothes so she took advantage of that and just smeared some neon pink paint over the mark on her neck. It looked ridiculous, but this should kill two birds with one stone.
If I look messy, maybe Chisaki will keep away from me. She half-smiled and put her phone away as she approached the house. I just wish he would stop hovering around us when I'm tutoring Eri. It was okay the first few times, but now it just feels weird.
She was adjusting the strap on her bag as she stepped through the gate onto the premises so she was a little distracted. When Sayuri slammed into something very solid and warm, she stumbled back a step and muttered an apology on reflex. As she lifted her soft lilac eyes, she tensed.
Standing in front of her was a man she had never seen around the house before. Tall, muscled, with long, wild, light brown hair and wearing some sort of hood that was pushed back from his face. For a moment, she thought she might have accidentally walked through the gate to the wrong house, but then she saw Kurono emerge from the door behind the man.
Before Kurono could say anything, the stranger leaned down toward Sayuri and smirked. "What's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this? You lost or something?"
She took a step back, frowning. "Excuse me?"
"Rappa." The pale-haired man's voice rang from the doorway in a warning tone and made the stranger pause as he tried to step toward her. Kurono's eyes met Sayuri's when she looked toward him and he gave her a beckoning nod.
The young woman cautiously moved around the man and walked over to Kurono briskly. She had never expected to be happy to see his cold, expressionless face before, but now she was actually glad to see him. Sayuri heard the scuff of the man's shoes over the ground as he turned and felt his gaze skim along her form as she approached Kurono.
He pushed the door open further to let her in and he paused, keeping his eyes on the other man. Finally, he closed the door and turned his attention to Sayuri. It was now that Kurono noticed the paint on her and he raised an eyebrow. "What happened to you?"
She looked at the door as she adjusted her bag again, still frowning. "Who was that? I've never seen him here before."
"Don't worry about him." Both subjects were dropped and he began walking down the hallway without a word.
The young woman followed closely, glancing back over her shoulder. Whoever the stranger was, he had a menacing kind of energy. Dangerous. She wondered for a moment what might have happened to her if Kurono had not been there, but she quickly shook the thoughts away.
"How's your wrist?" she asked. He was more tolerable than Chisaki. She wanted to stay on Kurono's good side.
He pushed back his sleeve and held his arm out to her. "It doesn't sting anymore. How's yours?"
Sayuri held out her wrist so it was next to his. They were healing at the same rate so they matched perfectly. She had to half-smile. "Kind of weird, right?"
"Yeah." Kurono's eyes narrowed on his own partially healed wrist.
The rest of the walk was done in silence and when he reached Eri's room, the door was already open. The little girl was sitting at the small table in her room and had one of her old activity books open. Chisaki was sitting across from her in silence. Staring intently at the pages with his brow furrowed.
"Kai. Sayuri's here." The pale-haired man gestured for her to go in and lingered in the doorway as she greeted Eri. "You have a second? I need to tell you something, Kai."
Sayuri gave both men a small, polite smile. Something practiced and used for when she was dealing with her students' parents. "It's fine. Eri-chan and I can get started on the workbooks I brought," she told them. She could see the disgust on Chisaki's face as he took in her paint-splattered appearance. It only made her smile grow and she gave him a little wave.
Kneeling on the floor next to Eri's chair, she brought out the new workbooks she got from the school. "Okay, Eri-chan. We have a few options. I brought a science one, a math one, and an art one. Which one do you want to do first?"
"Art…?" The little girl blinked and stared down at the workbook covered in flowers and cartoon characters.
Seeing the girl's big, red eyes twinkle, Sayuri's lips curled into a real smile. She had looked so sad when Sayuri first walked in and she could only imagine that Chisaki had been snapping at her for something stupid like writing crookedly. "Art is the most fun, if you ask me. Look at this; we have kitties, bunnies, a bunch of different flowers…"
"I-I want to do art," Eri decided, taking the workbook in her delicate hands.
Sayuri retrieved some art supplies she had picked up at the store on her way there; a fresh box of crayons with over a hundred colors, some markers, glitter pens, and colored pencils. "Want me to pull your hair back?"
"Yes…please."
"You know, you're more polite than any of my students," she commented. Sayuri brought a brand new hairbrush out of her bag and ran it through Eri's wavy, pale hair to detangle it. She tried not to disrupt Eri as she pulled the girl's hair back into a fluffy sort of ponytail, while the child looked over her new art supplies.
When Sayuri moved beside her again, she saw the girl's eyes watering and she frowned. "Eri-chan? What is it? What's wrong?"
Eri's thin arms wrapped around Sayuri and she pressed her face into the young woman's shoulder. "You're so nice…"
It felt like her heart was cracking. The teacher hugged back and frowned, patting the girl's back gently. "Eri-chan…" It reminded her of when she was a kid; before her parents turned their backs on her. When her mother would have her help make dinner and she would tell Sayuri how proud she was.
Sayuri carefully pulled away and brought a flower-printed handkerchief out of her pocket to wipe away Eri's tears. "Listen. I want you to be happy, Eri-chan. So if there's anything you need, don't be afraid to ask, okay?" She hoped this would encourage Eri to tell her if there was something shady happening with Chisaki, but instead found the girl hugging her again.
"I don't want you to get hurt." Eri's voice was just barely a whisper and her words made Sayuri's eyes widen.
Patting the girl's back again, her frown deepened. "I won't let myself get hurt. Because then I wouldn't be able to help you," she promised. Even as she said this, she felt her pulse begin to race. What does she mean? Does she mean Chisaki? Is she afraid that he's going to do something to me?
The bedroom door was opened by Kurono to admit Chisaki. The man was tugging at his gloves to pull them higher and his golden eyes settled on the young woman kneeling next to the little girl's chair. "I need to speak to you privately, Naosu."
Sayuri was reminded of a scene from a movie. An executioner with an axe standing in the doorway of a prisoner on the day set for their death. A tingle ran along her spine as she looked to Eri. The little girl was wearing a worried frown now and she lowered her eyes to the open workbook in front of her.
"I'll be right back, okay, Eri-chan? Why don't you pick out a picture to color and you can show it to me when I come back?"
Eri was trembling a little and her red eyes lifted to Sayuri's lilac ones. "You…promise that you're coming back?"
There was a tightening around Sayuri's heart, but she nodded and smiled. "I promise that I'll be right back."
Stepping out into the hallway, she felt her unease growing. Chisaki was walking ahead of her with Kurono behind her. Sayuri rubbed at the scar on her wrist, trying to ease her feelings of tension, but it was no use. She felt like she was about to step into a trap. Her every instinct screamed at her to run away, but she had promised Eri that she would return. Abandoning the little girl was just not an option.
On a darker note, if Chisaki or Kurono harmed her then she would have some proof. Proof that Eri needed to be removed from their care. Eri might have a chance at normality with a warm family, even if it meant sacrificing herself.
To her surprise, he led her to the garden in the back of the house. Kurono opened the door and Chisaki stepped out into the afternoon light. Sayuri followed him with hesitation, watching him closely. "What did you want to discuss, Chisaki-san? Is it about the lesson plan-?"
"You're a mess." His words cut through her sentence as he turned to look her up and down; scrutinizing the paint smears and glitter that seemed to be eternally stuck in her hair. Chisaki tugged at his gloves again as he stepped closer to her. "It's so unprofessional. I really expected more out of you."
She tensed as he stopped within arm's reach of her. "I'm sorry. I didn't have time to stop at home to clean up first," she explained, rubbing the back of her neck. Sayuri bit the inside of her cheek when a gloved hand reached out and brushed her long, snow-pale hair over her shoulder. The young woman shivered.
He sighed heavily in a disappointed way and held out a hand. Kurono placed a pack of sanitary wipes into Chisaki's open palm, keeping his eyes averted from Sayuri. "If you're going to be a bad influence on Eri, I might need to rethink this arrangement. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to have someone like you teaching her," he commented.
"No! I mean…I'll clean up, okay? I was just in a hurry today!" Sayuri argued. She reached for the pack of wipes, but felt a twisting in her stomach when she thought of wiping the paint off of her neck.
A gloved hand closed around her wrist and he leaned down toward her, his eyes narrowed above his mask in displeasure. "If you were capable, I would have expected you to do it before you came here. I'm going to show you how to do it properly. Stay still."
Sweat dotted her skin as Sayuri watched him open the pack. She wanted to run. She wanted to shove him away from her. One glance toward Kurono made her realize it was a bad idea. The frown he directed at her was not displeasure; it was a silent warning.
She tensed as gloved fingers gripped her jaw and held her head in place. His other hand wiped at the paint on her cheek, his face contorted in disgust behind his mask. Her hands curled into fists at her sides and her palms sweated. Her stomach was twisting into knots as she felt him apply more pressure than he had to. Like he was trying to punish her for getting paint on her skin.
Sayuri held her breath and closed her eyes when he finally started wiping at the paint on the side of her neck. She felt his grip tighten when Dabi's mark was revealed and she half-opened her eyes. Chisaki's eyes narrowed again and he lifted them to her face. The young woman got a horrible sinking feeling.
"What's this?" His thumb swiped over the mark and he saw her wince. Shaking his head, he pushed her head back a little and to the side so he had a better view.
"My boyfriend-" she started, but winced as he touched it again. Just feeling his gloved fingertips against her skin was enough to make her skin raise with goose bumps. She lifted a hand, but hesitated to grab his wrist.
"You have bad taste," he remarked with a sigh. "Irresponsible. Disrespectful. Probably only cares about himself. Dirty. Is that really the sort of person you would want to be with?"
"I love him," she argued. Sayuri's hand closed around his wrist, below the edge of his glove. Almost immediately, his skin broke out in hives and his glare hardened. The grip on her jaw tightened painfully before he released her.
"I see. That's kind of a disappointment."
Again, she experienced that sinking feeling as she stared up into his eyes. "Chisaki-san? I don't understand."
"It's fine. Really, it might've been too much to ask from you anyway."
"What?" Sayuri's hold on his wrist loosened little by little. When she finally released him, her pulse was racing so fast that it hurt. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat.
He examined the hives on his wrist and his brow furrowed. Golden eyes lifted to meet her lilac ones again. "Hold still."
Sweat rolled down her spine beneath her shirt as the young woman watched him tug at the glove on his right hand. Dragging it off and taking it in his left hand. A feeling of cold dread fell over her seconds before his palm and fingertips made contact with her cheek. "What…were you going to ask?" she forced out, fighting down her fear and the undeniable urge to slap him. Forcing her eyes to stay on his.
