A/N: Usually I put an author's at the bottom, but I wanted to lie out what will happen in this chapter. We will dive into Hiromi's past in this chapter and the next. This will provide some insight of Hiromi's character and how she evolves throughout the story. You might even notice a couple of mannerisms Hiromi had picked up in here. And just to note that these other characters I'm introducing play a minor role and only show up maybe once or twice as supporting OC's. My other OC, Tatsuya, has a pivotal role in future chapters.
Anyway, enjoy the read!
… three years prior
… 9:23 p.m.
It's relatively quiet than usual this evening. People would usually carry on conversations as they ate. Babies and toddlers would clang utensils on the table or scream and cry. The register would occasionally chime. The chef would usually cook away at his grill, whistling and joyfully singing nothing in particular. Despite this, there are only soft noises in the diner tonight.
The cook silently wipes down some appliances while waiting for an order to complete. The washer is most likely busy with the dishes while listening to some music. Huddled closely, two waitresses murmur softly, as if gossiping. Two senior men sat in a booth as they played Shogi while enjoying some green tea and dango. There is a small group of teenagers in another doing their homework, popping gyoza into their mouths every so often. In a corner, a man reads a book with a beer in hand.
This silence unnerved Hiromi. While she usually enjoys quiet evenings to take things slow for once, she is struggling to keep herself busy. She has an hour left to go of her shift, but it feels like it's taking an eternity.
Hiromi desperately desired an escape. She had an unnerving chill zip down her spine, giving her goosebumps. She even trembled. It seems like it's a warning going off in her body. Hiromi does not like this feeling. Something doesn't feel right.
She heavily sighs as Hiromi stands close to the serving window, waiting for the lone man's interest in trying Omuraisu. Initially, he had no desire to eat, but as time passed, he grew hungry. Hiromi glances over in his direction, discreetly to take in his features. According to Hiromi, he is quite attractive. He has a tough, masculine vibe about him with his fit and muscular physique. His spiky brown hair is frosted with butter blond at the tips, and light gray eyes that almost look silver. She saw him tighten his hold on the beer bottle, flexing his toned biceps. The Yatagarasu tattoo on his left bicep seemed to flutter from the movement.
Hmm, interesting tattoo, she says to herself.
While Hiromi stared at the guy, her thoughts wandered to her boyfriend, Hisashi. She hasn't seen him for about a week now. He had business in Saitama and would be away for three days. He was supposed to be back two days ago. She wondered if his "job" took longer than he expected. He would call to notify her he would be a little longer. It's out of character for him, so to speak.
She thought to herself, almost bitterly, that maybe he's cheating on her again.
She should have just dumped his ass the first time he done it. Despite not wanting to lose the financial security his "job" brings, Hiromi didn't take the risk. The connections that he has at her disposal are a valuable resource. She is a waitress at the diner part time of her choosing. Her working as a teacher during the day at one of the grade schools in Karakura Town is one of those instances. Hiromi used her connections to obtain a teaching license and the school of her choosing. She even got to choose her subjects for teaching. Hiromi opted for social studies which comprised history, geography, and civics, along with science. She would occasionally substitute for moral education if the usual teacher was out for medical reasons. Hiromi loves it. Children make her feel especially happy. She would love to have a child or two one day.
Hiromi's thoughts may be elsewhere, but the unknown male felt her eyes on him. The guy glanced up from his reading and looked over in her direction. They made eye contact from afar, where Hiromi felt this weird chill tingle down her spine. She sees him slowly spread his lips in a soft smile, acknowledging her. She flashes him a kind smile, then diverts her gaze elsewhere.
If he didn't have that bad boy charm, I would consider leaving Hisashi for that hunk, Hiromi says to herself.
Upon turning away, Hiromi noticed the two other waitresses huddled close. One of them with cherry red hair looked at the lone man, then in Hiromi's direction. The girl shoots Hiromi a strange glare before carrying on her conversation with the other. Hiromi thought it was weird but doesn't doubt the two are talking about her again.
Experiencing a sense of déjà vu, it felt like high school again when Hiromi joined the diner. In contrast to Hiromi, who is more mature and acts her age, the other women here don't. They behave like high school mean girls, making rude comments about her while flaunting their perfect hair. Their childish behavior is laughable.
Hiromi has learned over time to dismiss them without a second glance. She has even adjusted to their overzealous selves. She ignores them most of the time, but would occasionally have to approach them to get some tasks done. They're always reluctant to help. They brushed her off and made her do all the work. It's tiring.
One of these days, karma will knock them on their asses.
"Order up," a soft masculine voice started.
She lightly sighs as Hiromi makes her way around the counter to the serving window, unnerved still with this sensation of hers. She is incredibly nervous. Her task is to deliver the mysterious man's order without embarrassing herself. The cook quickly took notice of her sighing, even the look in her eyes.
"You alright there, Hiromi, dear?" The cook asked her with concern laced in his voice.
"I'm alright, Mr. Ito. Do you have any idea how long the guy in the back has been here?"
Mr. Ito, a burly middle-aged man with graying brown hair, discreetly glances around the metal frame towards the back. He blinks once, then turns his attention back on Hiromi, eyeing her knowingly.
"You mean that dashing young man? He's been here before you started your shift, so about three hours now. When I asked him earlier about his business, he explained he was new in town and searching for apartments. The hotel he booked to stay in was cleaning up his room, so he came here. He's been reading that book along with an apartment catalog off and on. I know he's in your section, but wary of him. He reminds me of those cliché bad boys in those silly romantic comedies my late wife used to watch."
Hiromi smirks. "I know what you mean, Mr. Ito. That was my first impression upon seeing him. There's probably more than what meets the eye, of course."
Thinking to herself, she acknowledges her weird feeling about him.
"Yep, certainly does. Give the guy his meal before it gets cold, dearie." Mr. Ito lightly urged with a bright smile.
She smiles in return as she grabs the plate. Hiromi always liked him. He is kind to her and treats Hiromi as if she were his daughter. She needs more people like him, along with her four best friends in her life.
Hiromi had been a loner most of her life, except she had one loyal friend she hadn't seen in a couple of years. She thought about him still and wondered what happened that he would disappear.
As Hiromi approached, the cherry redhead waitress stood away from the counter. A determined glint crosses her dark brown eyes. With a purposeful swagger, she casually makes a misstep. Her foot collides with Hiromi's, tripping her. A startled yelp escaped Hiromi's lips as gravity took over and plummeted towards the floor.
She lands harshly on her chest with a grunt. The Omuraisu plasters itself onto her face while the plate shatters. She could smell the glaze sauce as it went up her nose a little. Hiromi can even taste the egg.
In a casual manner, she remarks to herself, "Well, this is mortifying."
The bad boy glances away from his book to his meal plastered on Hiromi's face. He noticed her gaze fixed on the floor. A sure sign that the girl is mortified and possibly angered for tripping. He was about to jab at her for being clumsy but stopped as the waitress drizzled cold brewed coffee over Hiromi's head.
He says nothing, just observes the scene with a leg bopping impatiently.
"Oops, sorry. I didn't see your humongous foot in my way. Would you like a little touch of coffee to go with the egg on your face?" She honeyed snidely.
He hears a strangled sob from Hiromi and sees tears from the muck obscuring her vision. Abruptly, the stranger rose from the bench with a hard huff and walked towards the redhead. He snatches the girl's wrist and yanks her back harshly, stopping her from pouring more of the liquid. He jerks the cup from her hand and slams it on the counter.
Startled, the girl glances up from Hiromi's fallen form to the dashing young man. Her cheeks flush while trying to suppress a frown.
He says nothing at first, only glares at the waitress, who quivered from his presence.
"You're the silent and brooding type, I see. I guess that makes you a little more attractive."
"If that was your way of getting my attention, then you accomplished something," he replies coldly in a smooth, masculine tone.
"Well, you have this bad boyish look going on. I thought_."
"You thought what? That I would commend you for tripping a fellow employee and pouring cold coffee on her?" He interjects sharply.
His silver-gray eyes glare distastefully at the somewhat attractive waitress. She has rounded natural features with freckles across the bridge of her nose, petite frame and of average height, but lacks in certain areas.
"Well," she started, her voice trembling. "I would have thought that_."
"That bullying someone to get some guy's attention like me is okay with you? That's stereotyping. I do not get joy in seeing others' misfortunes. I would hate to find out what you typically do to get some poor man's attention. My guess is you put out and stuff your mosquito bite tits with tissue or balls of socks to make them larger than they appear."
The girl's eyes widen, and a vicious snarl spreads across her lips. "Why you?"
"I'm not the type of guy to date mediocre, childish girls like yourself, anyway. You best apologize before I snap your wrist?" He threatens.
"Um, I think you should listen to him, Emi. He doesn't look thrilled with you, and it looks like he means it, too." The other girl cowered.
"Why should I? It's not like he's going to do anything. If he does, I will fight back."
The stranger grins, and it is not a pleasant one either.
"Is that a challenge I'm hearing, Chicken Little?"
"I may look small, but I pack one hell of a punch. I am skilled in various forms of Japanese martial arts, including Kyūdō."
He gives her a strange look and cocked his head slightly.
"Huh? What the hell is that?"
"Kyūdō, the way of the bow. Its archery."
He guffaws, revealing a single gold tooth on his upper left canine.
"Seriously? You think archery is going to help you in the position you're in right now? Why don't you show me what your scrawny arms are capable of, Chicken Little?"
"The name is Emi, asshole."
"If you truly have the strength you boast about it, why not hit me, Chicken Little?"
Emi makes a quick glance at Hiromi, who is watching from the floor, then back at the stranger.
Hiromi had a feeling that things were about to get ugly really quick. And she does not want to get in the way. She has seen Emi take down a couple of people who got into brawls in the diner. One of them made unwanted advances on Emi and tried hauling her out of the establishment. They haven't seen the idiot since then.
She slowly started backing up, giving Emi the space she needs to grapple the guy. Hiromi doesn't like the stranger, anyway.
Kick his ass, Emi! She wanted to cheer.
Even before the stranger could take action, Mr. Ito called out between the two.
"Alright, that's enough. I highly advise the both of you to put an end to this."
She doesn't regard him, just glared daggers at the stranger who shared the same sentiment.
"Miss Higurashi, please heed my warning. I strongly encourage you to not engage yourself."
"Why should I not?"
"Should you do so, not only will I fire you, but I will also call the police and have you arrested for aggravated assault."
She snaps her gaze off the stranger to Mr. Ito.
"Why would I be charged with aggravated assault? If anything, it would be a misdemeanor charge of disorderly conduct … and disturbing the peace."
The stranger stares at her, slightly slack jawed and eyes wide.
"How would you even know that, Chicken Little?"
"Ugh, stop calling me that! I know because I am studying criminal justice. It also helps that my father is a lawyer, and a rich one, at that."
"And you're working here. Why?"
Emi opened her to mouth to retort, but he talks over her.
"There's no need to explain anything. I already know why?"
"What would you know about me and my situation, asshole?"
The stranger grins wildly, and with a sadistic yet predatory edge. His gold tooth gleaming from the incandescent lighting.
"It's all in the power of perspective and observation, Chicken Little. It's clear that you're living with your wealthy parents, as you hinted at that, and it's likely they're fully supporting you, like a spoiled princess. I assume you desire to be independent and live by your own rules. But to prove your maturity and sense of responsibility, you need to hold down a job first. Chime in anytime if I'm mistaken. Your dear ole daddy big bucks won't allow you to move out using his money to pay for your rent, correct? It's quite pathetic, honestly. You're pathetic for humiliating this gorgeous woman who did absolutely nothing to warrant this abuse. I don't like seeing women cry, especially when caused by heartless bullies like yourself."
Emi fell silent. Her expression was tight with jaw squared, and a deep flush sweeping across her nose and cheeks.
The stranger's grin widens.
"Sounds like I'm right on the money, huh Princess Chicken Little?"
"Do. Not. Call. Me. Princess. Or Chicken Little, you sadistic prick. Unhand me this instant. I will not hesitate to get into a brawl with you."
"Try to land a blow, Princess. I doubt it will hurt."
Emi's freehand trembled into a tight fist, readying herself to strike.
"Emi, don't," the other female coworker urged.
"You better listen to your coworker, Princess," he paused, his grin growing wider and maniacal. "If not, I won't take it easy on you. I'm not the kind of person you want to cross."
He leans forward, his face coming centimeters from Emi's face, whispering.
"Remember this girly, I'm a member of a notorious yakuza group, Emi Higurashi. Although Higurashi is an odd family name to cover who you really are, Miss Fujiwara."
Emi resisted in showing any visible reaction, but she was internally freaking out.
"It's my mother's maiden surname, you asshole."
"So, you use that as an alias, huh?"
"Of course, I do. And you better keep my real identity to yourself, you hear?"
The stranger's grin softened slightly.
"Oh, they don't know who you really are?"
"No! They don't need to know. Now shut up."
"Then would you be willing to make a barter?"
"Yeah, I'll make a barter with you," she quickly agrees. "Just keep your mouth shut."
"Oh, I'll be quiet as long you apologize to my dumbass brother's girlfriend there."
Emi looked shocked and angry, twisting her attention to Hiromi, who was still on the floor, scared.
"No, please. Please don't tell her. Hisashi will kill me if Hiromi found out. He might even kill you."
"Doly noted. It is bizarre how he managed to snag a pretty girl like her. Do you want to make a deal or not, Miss Fujiwara? Or would you prefer me to tell Hiromi that you have been sleeping around with her boyfriend?"
"No, please don't. I'll make a deal with you. Just keep your mouth shut, Tatsuya."
"That's the deal. Apologize, then I will let you go and keep your dirty little secret and identity to myself." The stranger, Tatsuya replies, his grin never faltering.
He leans back, shooting her a wink that went unseen by others, speaking louder now.
"Now what's it going to be, Chicken Little? Are you going to hit me or back off?"
Emi visibly stiffened, her gaze still blazing and nostrils flaring. She heaves a breath from her lungs, looking over at Hiromi again then back on Tatsuya.
"Fine. I'll back off. Now let go of me."
"That's a good girl," he purred. "Before I let you go, Princess, apologize to the lovely lady now."
Emi bristles, her fist still trembling at her side.
"Excuse me?"
"Let me make it a little simpler for you since your comprehension is elementary level."
"Fuck you!"
Tatsuya guffaws, his grip on her wrist tightening.
"Ow! You're hurting me, you jerk!"
"I told you, I will let go of your hand once you apologize to the beautiful woman. She does not belong on the floor. If anything, it should be you down there, you ugly loser."
Emi's lips pull back into a snarl, and nostrils flared.
"I understood what you meant, you stupid brute. Unhand me now."
Hiromi plasters herself against the wall, trembling violently from the anger that is rolling off of Emi in waves.
"Will you two stop fighting?" Hiromi pleads, going unheard.
"If I'm a brute, then you're a fragile little flower desperately trying to prove her worth. Now apologize," the stranger repeated. His grip on her tightened, bruising her skin.
"Young man, I strongly advise you let the girl go," an elderly man urged as he approached the two.
Tatsuya flicks his gaze off Emi to the angered bystander, who held his cane close to his chest. He shifts to glance over at the diner owner Mr. Ito, who is near the phone, ready to call the authorities. He then scanned the booths. The bystanders were watching with batted breathe, yet they were ready to interfere if a scuffle broke out between him and Emi. One of the cutest high school girls has a Dango skewer in hand, as if preparing to stab him. Tatsuya then looks over his shoulder at Hiromi. She remained on the floor, but her back is pressed against the wall and is staring at him with wide, frightened eyes.
Tatsuya stares at her for the longest moment, his expression never changing.
Hiromi didn't like that look. He seemed more than intimidating, but ferocious, like a predator observing its prey. It actually gave her the creeps and more wary of him.
Tatsuya looks away after what seemed like five minutes of him staring at her. Only to look out the window. His gaze narrowed, even his frown deepened.
Hiromi wondered why he seemed so … angry. No, he's on edge.
That's when she felt it. She glances to the window, her frightened eyes becoming grave. There is a hollow nearby. She doesn't doubt it's waiting for her to leave. The attacks are getting worse. Without Hisashi present, she must depend on her instincts to navigate through difficult situations. Or seek help from a shinigami. Hiromi hopes she can ward off this hollow tonight.
Looking away, Tatsuya eventually glances over at Hiromi, offering her a comforting look. It is reassuring that he can apparently feel it, too. He winks at her then turned to regard Emi, critically staring her down with an angered frown. Emi doesn't falter from his expression.
Tatsuya concedes.
He shoves her hand away, making her tumble into the counter. He expected her to stand upright and land a punch on his person, but she was smart enough not to.
"The hell was that for?" She yelled.
He just glares at her before turning away to return to his table.
"Ugh, you should come with a warning label," Emi spat.
Tatsuya glances back at her, pointing at himself.
"If my appearance isn't an indication of a warning label, then you are dumber than you look, Chicken Little."
"Shut up!"
"Seriously, Princess? Is that really the best comeback you can come up with?"
Emi groans, then points to the diner door.
"You see that door? I want you on the other side of it."
"Now we're getting somewhere."
Tatsuya stuffs his hands in his pockets as he approached the table he was in, sitting back down with a frown on his face. Hiromi inched away from him, eyeing the guy carefully.
"I'd say you're 'dumb as a rock,' but at least a rock can hold a door open because that was not an invitation for you to sit back down."
"What makes you think I'm leaving? I did order off the menu, but it found itself plastered to your coworker's face from you tripping her. Which you still owe her an apology."
Emi glowers at him. "I'd give you a nasty look, but you've already got one."
Tatsuya rolled his eyes, snatches his book to continue reading.
"I could eat a bowl of alphabet soup and shit out a smarter insult than whatever you just said. Now apologize already."
"I'll apologize once you leave this establishment!"
He slid his gaze on Emi, shooting her a glare that Hiromi caught. She wasn't sure what it was about, but from the looks of it, there was a silent exchange between him and Emi.
Eventually Emi caves. She starts towards Hiromi, grumbling.
"You just might be why the middle finger was invented."
"Don't feel bad. Many people have no talent," he responds tiredly.
Hiromi saw a stress vein pop at Emi's brow, who is glowering at him still.
"You're the reason the gene pool needs a lifeguard."
Tatsuya groans out loud, throwing his head back to rest against the booth's headrest.
"Oh, good kami! I don't have the patience for you anymore. If I could get away with it, I'd slap you, but I don't want to make your face look any better. Now shut the fuck up, you sack of poorly packaged horse shit, and make me something to eat. After you apologize to the girl and clean up the mess you made."
Hiromi watched the two throw insult after insult, actually wanting to laugh at the stranger's creativity.
Okay, he may have some major anger issues, but he's kind of funny, Hiromi thought to herself.
"I don't have the patience for you either, you worthless piece of trash!"
Hiromi saw a flicker of recognition in the stranger's gaze, even dimmed from the cutting insult. His fingers twitched to grab at an empty beer bottle, possibly to hurl it at Emi, but refrained himself. She also noticed a deep, saddened frown that Emi failed to notice. Hiromi instantly felt bad for him. She realized then that he could be emotionally damaged from domestic violence or even abuse from a parent. Hiromi guesses his father. Her biological father was aggressive, and was frightened of her.
"What's the matter? Did I actually hit a nerve this time, you fucking loser?"
"Leave him alone, Emi," Hiromi intervenes, glaring at her.
"Wait, are you seriously taking his side?"
"I am not picking a side. He should not have handled you the way he did. It was uncalled for," Hiromi says as she glanced at the stranger, who is watching her. "However, you kind of deserved it after all the bullying you did to me. I won't sit by and let you cut him down like that. I've been called worthless before, and trash, and a loser. Not just by you, but also my father and mother, and my peers when I was a child. I will not take anymore of it. Whatever apology you throw at me will not be accepted because it was forced and lacks authenticity."
The stranger, Tatsuya, smirked.
Emi stared at Hiromi. She wanted to open her mouth and apologize, but knew it would be pointless. Hiromi won't accept it or forgive her. Even if she tried being genuine, Emi is not that sorry for picking on her. Hiromi is prettier than her, and better than her, too. Emi doesn't understand why Hisashi was with Hiromi when she is not a member of the yakuza on her uncle's side. He broke the rules. He should pay the consequences just like Hiromi should.
She sighs with a defiant pout, glaring down at Hiromi.
"I guess I shouldn't bother then. Mostly because I'm not sorry for tripping you, or pouring coffee on that big, ugly head of yours. It kept you from associating with this rotten egg," Emi says, pointing at Tatsuya. "He's bad news. It would be wise for you to stay away from the trash."
Hiromi tensed from the contempt in Emi's eyes, shrinking a little under her gaze.
"Do try to have a good rest of the night, Watanabe. Hope to see you never."
Emi did an about face, and started for the diner's door, giving Hiromi the one-finger salute.
From behind her, Tatsuya stares at Hiromi, then at Emi, while his frown deepens with an angry furrow of his brows.
"I guess you forgot our deal, Chicken Little."
Emi halts, her body going rigid yet trembles.
"Oh, shit. Wait! I'm so_."
"Don't bother now," Tatsuya replied, glancing over at Hiromi. "Chicken Little has been sleeping around with your boyfriend, Hiromi."
Emi lets out a screech.
"Ah, no! Don't listen to him, Hiromi. He's lying!"
Hiromi stares at Tatsuya, hurt overwhelming her gaze.
"W-what? How, how would you know about that? And who exactly are you?" She asked, her voice quivering in disbelief.
"Well, shit, where are my manners? I should have introduced myself. The name's Tatsuya Nakamura, Hisashi's brother."
"Huh? B-brother? He never told me he had a brother."
"That's because he's a royal prick. And did you not hear me say my dumbass brother is sleeping with mosquito bite tits over there?"
"Don't you call me that!" Emi screeched.
Hiromi stared at him briefly, then over at Emi, looking for confirmation.
"Is that true, Emi? Are you seeing Hisashi?"
"No, of course not! Don't listen to him!"
Tatsuya heaved a sigh, rummaging through his things for something.
"I really didn't want to resort to this but have a look for yourself, Hiromi," he says, presenting Hiromi with a polaroid.
She tentatively accepts it, staring down at the photo with disbelief and hurt overwhelming her features. The more she looked at the photo of Hisashi with Emi in a compromising position, on a couch, and enjoying themselves, Hiromi's features hardened.
"What did you just show her? Whatever it is, it's not what it looks like! I swear!" Emi says frantically.
The diner became hushed as a new altercation brewed. They stared at the two females, then at Tatsuya, who remained to sit where he was. Mr. Ito watched on with mouth gapping and by the phone still, forgetting to call the authorities.
Hiromi stood to her feet, quickly approaching Emi.
"Look, Hiromi. I'm sorry. I_." Emi's words stumbled out, a mix of regret and desperation clinging to each syllable, only to get cut off.
Hiromi connects a right hook to Emi's mouth with a resounding thud.
Shouts and gasps erupted in the diner from Hiromi slugging Emi, who then tackled her to the floor.
"Oh, shit!" Someone shouts in alarm.
"Girl fight!" Someone else exclaims excitedly.
Emi and Hiromi grappled with one another on the slick floor, grunting and groaning. Emi tries to pin Hiromi down, but is overpowered. She lands on her back with a grunt. Emi yanks at Hiromi's hair, hoping to cause some damage, but it doesn't faze her. Hiromi hovered over her and threw another punch to Emi's face.
"Oof! Get off me, you crazy bitch!" Emi screams, while trying to shove Hiromi away.
Emi bucks her hips, twisting to throw Hiromi off balance to no avail.
"Get off!" She exclaims, continuing to pull Hiromi's hair, and hitting her shoulder.
Emi, to defend herself, scratches Hiromi's face, leaving a deep gash that starts bleeding.
"Ow! Fucking bitch! You don't ruin this face!"
Hiromi struck her again and would have connected another blow if someone hadn't snatched her arm, yanked her away, and drug back. They comfortingly hugged her at the waist while she tried to engage herself back in her brawl.
"Get your fucking hands off me!" Hiromi shouts, struggling to get out of their grasp.
"Easy, easy. Calm down, deep breaths." Tatsuya's smooth voice whispered in her ear.
Despite his attempts to calm Hiromi down, she persistently tried to escape from his firm, gentle hold.
"Let go!"
Emi groans as she slowly got to her feet. Her livid gaze lands on Hiromi, snarling that her bared teeth showed. She storms over to land a punch in, only to get pulled back by the elderly man.
"Hey! Stop! Settle down!"
She rips herself out of their tight hold, her eyes burning in retaliation.
Emi came charging at Hiromi, who is still struggling in Tatsuya's arms, and swung. Her fist never contacted her intended target. Tatsuya, instead, took the hit. He swiveled in his spot to take the punch to his right bicep, shielding Hiromi. She didn't care if Hiromi wasn't there to take her punches. Emi just lashed out at Tatsuya, screaming at Hiromi.
"You don't deserve him, you gold digging bitch! He doesn't love you like he does me! You're nothing without him! Absolutely nothing, you worthless penniless bitch!"
Emi's words were daggers, slicing through the air with their venomous intent, each syllable a sharp and hurtful weapon aimed at Hiromi's heart.
She was yanked back again. Instead of the elderly man, Mr. Ito came up from behind and snatched her around the waist, subsequently throwing her aside. She ends up losing her balance, sprawling on the floor and falling face first on the Omuraisu.
"That's enough!"
He glares down at Emi, his eyes burning with intensity. He then regarded Hiromi, who is wrapped in Tatsuya's arms, breathing raggedly, and being coaxed to slow her breathing. Mr. Ito lightly frowned at the emotional state Hiromi is in, along with the deep-rooted concern from Tatsuya.
Mr. Ito returned his gaze to Emi, who struggled to her feet, mumbling.
"That fucking bitch. She's going to regret striking me," Emi whispered to herself.
Mr. Ito heard her, though.
"Miss Higurashi, leave the premises immediately. I will not tolerate your antics any longer. You are fired."
Emi lets out a strangled scream.
"You're firing me? I was not the one to throw the first punch!"
"I don't care if she struck you first. You instigated this mess."
"Excuse me? I instigated?"
"You did trip Hiromi, Chicken Little. And poured cold coffee on her head. Therefore, you are the instigator," Tatsuya says, still hugging Hiromi at her waist with her back pressed against his rigid chest.
Emi opened her mouth to argue, but was immediately stopped.
"I'll admit I added fuel to the fire with empty threats, but this could have been avoided if you had just apologized. Maybe then I wouldn't have to tell Hiromi about my brother cheating on her with you."
"It wasn't your place to tell her anything, you sadistic prick! You fucking promised me you would keep it to yourself."
"Yeah, I did. When you promised to apologize for humiliating Hiromi in front of the entire diner. You could have just taken the high road and done just that instead of getting your face pummeled. The black eye is a good look for you, anyway."
Emi refused to say anything. She glared at Tatsuya, then at Hiromi. Her jaw throbbed unpleasantly from the few punches Hiromi landed on her, bruised and bloodied.
"I'm not apologizing," she said eventually.
Tatsuya glares at her, remaining to hold Hiromi, who refused to say anything. "You really are stubborn. Just so you know, Chicken Little, you are not the first girl Hisashi has slept with."
Emi's body became rigid, her eyes wide. "Wait, what?"
"My dumbass brother likes to sleep around. So, don't expect him to stick with you much longer. Unless he got you knocked-up."
Emi's mouth open and closed like a fish out of water.
"But he, he told me he loved me?"
"He said that to me, Emi," Hiromi says, her voice low and strained.
She looks over at Emi, her gaze empty and arms slacked.
"And I'm going to be stuck with a possessive boyfriend."
Emi blinks furiously, while Tatsuya stiffens.
"What do you mean by that?"
Hiromi doesn't respond, just gave Emi a look that she, along with Mr. Ito, understood.
"Wait, you're … pregnant?"
She only frowns sadly, her downcast expression eyeing the floor.
There is a long pause. No one said in a word in the diner, not even the washer made a sound. You could hear a mouse fart if one was present.
"Well, shit," Tatsuya says, disturbing the silence.
… an hour later
Hiromi sat in a booth, silently staring at the tabletop, with hands lightly clasped in her lap.
Mr. Ito is in the kitchen cleaning up, along with the washer boy.
The other waitress is wiping down tables and organizing the counter space.
Emi is long gone. She left the diner thirty minutes ago. She and Hiromi had a heart to heart, hashing out their frustrations, and exchanged apologies. Emi was kind enough to nurse Hiromi's injury, and cleaned off the caked on egg from Hiromi's face, and washed out the coffee in the sink. They are on slightly better terms, but are still bitter towards one another.
Tatsuya, surprisingly, lingered in the diner, evoking the loyal samurais of old. He moved from table to table, apologizing sincerely to each customer and bringing back a peaceful atmosphere. He took it upon himself to clean up the mess Emi caused from tripping Hiromi as part of his apology to Mr. Ito. Tatsuya even went the extra mile and mobbed the entire diner floor. Mr. Ito rewarded him with a plate of yaki onigiri stuffed with beef and onions. Apparently, Tatsuya liked it a lot and asked if Mr. Ito could make more. He was happy to oblige since he had plenty of leftover, even giving some to Hiromi, but didn't have the appetite.
Hiromi continued to stare at the tabletop, mulling around in her head about everything that happened tonight. She found out Hisashi was cheating on her again, and with Emi, of all people. Emi and Tatsuya found out Hiromi is pregnant. She had a physical altercation with Emi, which, according to the diner attendees, Hiromi won. Hiromi learned Hisashi has a brother. A better looking brother at that. Tatsuya may be rough around the edges and can be sadistic, but there is a gentle side to him. He got her to calm down by giving her instructions to level her breathing.
She wondered if maybe he was not as bad as he seems.
"Penny for your thoughts," Tatsuya's smooth voice whispers as he approached the booth.
Hiromi doesn't look up at him when he sets a paper cup of steaming hot tea.
"I can't believe I did that," she says, her voice soft and slightly cracked. "It's so unlike me."
"Eh, everyone snaps at some point," he replies, sitting in the seat across from her.
"Yeah, but not me. I've never hit anybody out of anger. I'm always the kind and meek wallflower girl."
Tatsuya sniffs with a wolfish smirk.
"Well, the wallflower in front of me has a mean right hook. For someone of your physique, you know how to fight there, girly."
"I had a great mentor teach me basic combat skills to help me build confidence and to stand up to bullies."
"I bet he would be mad proud of you for decking a girl instead of slapping. I like a girl who knows how to throw a punch."
Hiromi looks up at him then, meeting his relaxed gaze.
"I'm sorry. In what way is this supposed to make me feel better after getting into a fight with Emi?"
"It's not meant to," he says, throwing his head back to take a swig of tea.
"Why did you come over if you weren't going to cheer me up after I made a fool out of myself, then?"
Tatsuya rolls his eyes while smiling.
"You didn't make a fool out of yourself. All you did was show a different side of you after being pushed to your limits. Everyone has one. There is no shame in expressing your anger. Rather, it's crying like a toddler, or throwing punches like a boxer. Besides, you looked damn good in beast mode."
Pink swept along Hiromi's cheeks, rubbing her hands together from the compliment.
"You … think I look I'm pretty?"
"Pretty is not the word I would describe you hot stuff. Gorgeous is better suited for you."
Tatsuya takes another swig, missing the bright blush on Hiromi's face. He glances at Hiromi, providing her a gentle smile. He noticed she hadn't touched her tea yet, which prompted him to frown.
"Should I be worried you're not drinking that?"
Hiromi looks at him, then at the tea.
"Oh, sorry."
She hesitantly took the paper cup and took a sip, humming in relief.
"Ooh, this is good. I didn't know Mr. Ito had genmaicha tea."
Tatsuya grins.
"It's actually mine. Got it at a specialty tea shop in Kyoto. Mr. Ito allowed me to brew some for you to calm your nerves."
Hiromi smiles softly.
"Thank you. I needed it."
They fell into a somewhat comfortable silence, sipping on their tea. It only lasted a moment when Tatsuya spoke.
"So, are you?"
She glances at him, blinking in confusion.
"Am I what?"
"Pregnant. Are you?"
Hiromi flicks her gaze off him, her cheeks burning red.
"Well, I … you know. Haven't had my_."
"Say no more," Tatsuya quickly interjects with a wave of his hand, and mildly blushing. "I don't need to know about that."
Her lips press into a tight smirk at the uneasiness in Tatsuya's voice, chuckling softly.
"Wow, that subject really is taboo with guys."
"It's only taboo because we don't particularly care to talk about it. It at least lets us know that the bridge it out."
Hiromi snorted, spewing some of her tea when she took a swig and then laughs.
"I have never heard it put that way before. That was funny."
Tatsuya smiles at her as she took another sip, her shoulders relaxing, along with her posture. He studied her for a long moment, really just taking in her calm features and her stunning eyes. Despite their natural beauty, he can tell there is a war raging on in her mind. She wants to be happy about having a kid but is afraid, helpless, and exhausted. Hiromi puts up with a lot of crap with Hisashi between his infidelity and mistreatment. She's worried she and the baby will not be safe with Hisashi. As she should be. Tatsuya understands Hisashi doesn't want any kids.
He sighs gently, setting his cup down.
"Just because you haven't had your cycle yet doesn't mean you are pregnant. It could just be late. Take a test, to be sure."
Hiromi looks at him, frowning deeply.
"You want me to take a test?"
"Do you want to be stuck with my dumbass brother?"
Hiromi's eyes fell to the table, her mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions, each one vying for dominance like warring factions. She knows a test would confirm her suspicions. Being a couple of days off shouldn't mean that Hiromi is pregnant. If she took one and she's not, there is a possibility of Hisashi leaving her. He doesn't use protection when they get intimate. Mostly, he enjoyed getting a load off and leaving her with no resolution. Perhaps, in order to prevent a scare, he will start using condoms. Given her luck, Hisashi could break his ties with her and find someone else to ruin their life. She will be free of him.
If she is, then Hiromi will be stuck with Hisashi. He wouldn't leave her. He may not want a child, but Hisashi would provide financial safety for Hiromi to raise the kid on her own.
"Perhaps it would be a good idea to take a test."
Tatsuya smiles in approval, chugging the rest of the warm tea down his throat, sighing in satisfaction. He then slid out from the table, standing tall with a spark in his eye. With a quick adjustment of his jacket, Tatsuya extends a hand to Hiromi.
Eagerly, Tatsuya exclaimed, "Alright, let's go then."
Hiromi snaps her gaze on him. Her jaw dropped open, her eyes widening like saucers as she struggled to comprehend Tatsuya's unexpected offer.
"Huh?"
"I'm taking you home, and to get a pregnancy test."
She blinks at him, shrinking away from his hand. The feeling from earlier returned. Hiromi doesn't understand why she has this weird feeling about him. Like she should avoid him at all costs. She wants to decline. Despite it all, she can detect the hollow that is close by. Should she take up on Tatsuya's offer to take her home? Or risk dealing with a hollow when she is already in an emotional state?
"Oh, um, it's okay. I'll just take a bus."
With a firm and resolved tone, Tatsuya says, "Like hell you are."
Her eyes widen, shrinking under the intense glare he has on her. It felt like she was dealing with Hisashi.
"Look, I know I wasn't the only one that sensed one of those things earlier. I would much rather see you get back safe than have to deal with it."
Hiromi frowns, remembering he had glanced out the window. Her shoulders slumped slightly when she realized he's a little like her. He can see things that others can't. Perhaps it would be wise to accompany him.
"I have been dealing with them more often lately."
"It should be a no brainer, then. I will keep you safe, Hiromi."
Her gaze softens as a visible weight was lifted off her shoulders. She can trust him a little.
"Okay. I trust you. Even if it's a little."
"Eh, a little trust goes a long way."
Hiromi then took his patiently waiting hand, letting him slide her out of the booth and onto her feet in one fluid motion. She was actually quite impressed.
"Pretty smooth. You must have done that plenty," she says, smiling gently.
"Surprisingly, that was my first time attempting that."
Tatsuya winks at her, guiding Hiromi to their exit. Leaving behind Mr. Ito and the others to do their respective duties.
It is rather cool tonight.
The coolness prickles at Hiromi's skin, causing her to shiver as she and Tatsuya walked down the sidewalk to a motorbike. A Yamaha Royal Star Midnight Venture to be specific. She eyed the mode of transportation uneasily. Hiromi never rode one before. Hisashi never allowed her to ride on his 'baby'. He always told her it was dangerous and made Hiromi take a bus to her work. She was forbidden to buy a car for herself. If she needed a ride somewhere when the bus wasn't an option, Hiromi would ask a co-worker for help. They were always reluctant, but gave her the ride she needed. All the other times were walking. She didn't mind it, but it gets tiring and painful for her feet.
Tatsuya strode towards his obsidian-colored motorcycle that hummed with power. The chrome reflecting the flickering streetlights, casting a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow. He snatches a small, female sized helmet in a rosy shade of pink.
"Have you ever ridden on one of these before?" Tatsuya asked as he handed Hiromi the helmet.
She cautiously took it from his hand, eyeing it uneasily.
"I haven't. Hisashi never let me because he told me it was dangerous."
Tatsuya blinks, a frown slowly formed on his lips.
"Meaning the lump never dropped you off or even came to get you from work?"
Hiromi lightly shook her head.
"No. He always thought it was an inconvenience. He was opposed to me riding on his 'baby'."
She says the last bit with a sneer.
Tatsuya stares at her for a long moment, his gaze burning with an intensity.
"The dumbass doesn't deserve you, Hiromi. I can't understand how he managed to date someone as attractive as you. You need to get out of that relationship while you still can. Even if there is a bun in your oven."
He turns away to grab his own helmet, strapping it on with ease. Tatsuya comes in front of Hiromi when he noticed she hadn't put hers on. She backed away slightly, apparently a little intimidated by him.
"Listen, Hiromi. I'm not that all bad."
She looks up at him, biting at her lower lip and eyed him with apprehension.
"You have every right to be afraid of me after what I did earlier. It was uncalled for. All that caught me at a bad time since I was already in a foul mood and made a complete ass of myself. I am sorry for scaring you."
Hiromi's lips twitched into a faint smile.
"You may have made an ass of yourself, but you certainly were creative with your quips. Particularly, the last one. How did you put it?"
Tatsuya grins wildly.
"What? The sack of poorly package horse shit comeback? That tickled your funny bone?"
Her smile widens.
"That and all the other ones."
"So, you think I'm funny?"
"I think witty is better suited for you."
"I'll take witty than asshole any day," he replies, then took the helmet from Hiromi's hand. "Come on, let me make things a little better for us by taking you home."
Hiromi bites the inside of her lip, her gaze softening as he placed the pink helmet on her and strapped it under her chin.
"You are better than Hisashi, at the very least."
"As I mentioned, he's a dumbass. I know because I've dealt with his patronizing, narcissistic ass since birth."
"So, wait. You two are twins?"
"Fraternal. He's older than me by three minutes. The only way to tell us apart is our eye color and facial structure. I added the frosted tips, as you can see. I'm cooler looking than his lame ass."
"And better looking, too."
A faint blush brushed along his tanned cheeks as he lightly gaped.
"Hold up. You think I'm better looking?"
"That's just putting it lightly. I think you're a hunk."
Tatsuya couldn't help but smile bashfully, his chest swelling.
"By one-upping my brother in appearances, I can at least gain a small victory. There is something that I am better at than my brother."
"I'm guessing with that comment, you two were pitted against each other to be the better, son."
"Yeah, unfortunately. I blame my mother for that one. Our father wasn't that great either."
Hiromi blinks, frowning sadly.
"I never had the best of parents either. My biological parents were afraid of me because of my ability to see spirits, and were abusive. They died in a car wreck years ago. I don't miss them. My adoptive family wasn't exactly loving, either, and emotionally neglectful. They're long gone, too."
Tatsuya eyed Hiromi with a frown, feeling empathetic.
"It appears that we have something in common, then."
Hiromi averted her gaze from him briefly, staring at the polished chrome of his motorcycle.
"Apparently, so. I'm still shocked Hisashi never mentioned you. He's always been secretive and guarded. He never let slip a word about anything too personal. It makes me wonder what else he is hiding from me."
Tatsuya's eyes narrow as he sneered.
"Pfft, figures he wouldn't mention me. We have bad blood, anyway."
"Why do you?"
He frowns deeply, his gaze becoming distant and full of anger.
"It's best we don't jump in the deep end of the pool just yet, darling. You'll understand soon, but it won't be now. He has a lot of skeletons in his closet, too. Enough about that, though. Let's get you home."
A resigned sigh leaves Hiromi's lungs. Her gaze flash with determination under the streetlight.
"Would you take me to a drugstore first?"
He looks at her, noting the resolve on her features.
"For that pregnancy test?"
She simply nods while eyeing Tatsuya's motorcycle.
"Um, how do I get on this, anyway?"
He smirks while silently chuckling within his chest. Tatsuya helps Hiromi straddle the passenger seat behind him, then climbed on after her. He turned the ignition, gripped the handlebars and prepared to start up before glancing over his shoulder at Hiromi.
"Hold on, tight. I don't want you falling off."
She obliges by wrapping her arms around his chest, grasping him.
"Would the hollow follow us, though?" Hiromi questioned when she felt the familiar presence behind her.
Tatsuya laughs. His mirth had a tinge of pride as his grip on the handlebars tightened.
"Is that what they're called? That thing wouldn't want to be around me when I start this baby up," he says with a pat on the bike. "I equipped my motorcycle with a sound deterrent that we can't hear, but they can. It keeps them far away because it has a 4.828-kilometer radius sound wave. Hisashi has the same thing on his."
Hiromi tensed up, trembling slightly.
"Wait, he does? So, he's been putting me in danger on purpose?"
Tatsuya's grin melted away like a fleeting ray of sunshine, replaced by a snarl that twisted his features into a mask of raw fury.
"I swear, he's a fucking asshole."
With that last statement, a sharp, metallic growl cuts through the silence, signaling its readiness for the ride ahead. The sound startled Hiromi, but it forced the hollow that was behind them to retreat, disappearing into the clouds.
"Hey, Tatsuya." Hiromi calls over the thunderous engine.
Noticing her uneasiness, he gently covered her hand with his own, providing reassurance.
"Don't worry, I got you."
"It's not that. If I forget, thank you."
He glances over his shoulder at her, noting the pink on her cheeks and bashful smile.
"For what?"
"Helping me. I really appreciate it."
He provides her a soft, fond smile. His hand squeezing hers.
"You're welcome, darling."
With that, Tatsuya revs his motorcycle and takes off.
As they rode away from the diner and through the streets, Hiromi felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She may still feel uneasy about Tatsuya, but one thing is for certain: Hiromi felt safe for once.
Unbeknownst to them, someone watched the two from the shadows.
As the clock struck midnight, Hiromi and Tatsuya arrived at her apartment, the city's nocturnal rhythm lulling them into a sense of solitude.
Hiromi confirmed her suspicions after doing a test. She was not pregnant. She was happy about it, even Tatsuya was and strongly suggested she leave Hisashi.
She would have done just that.
Except, with each sleepless night that passed, Hiromi's anxiety grew, and the absence of Hisashi became more unbearable. She also increasingly became worried about her time of the month.
Once more, she took a pregnancy test. Hoping that it would be negative like last time. To her dismay, it was the complete opposite. Hiromi is pregnant and stuck with Hisashi. If he plans to return, of course. She hopes he never comes back.