You're so pretty.

Is your skin always this soft?

Where's-


My eyes snap open, then squint at the blinding bright light that fills the room.

Someone opened the curtains I'd closed before binding myself to this bed.

And that someone is standing by my bed, setting a tray of food on the nightstand.

I notice his hair first. It's snow-white, like mine, and spiked, like Satoru's, but he's not Satoru. He's too short to be Satoru. His head turns towards me, and I forget all about his hair.

His eyes.

Amethyst melted into life and emotion, dusted with the faintest of sunlight to make it sparkle ever so slightly.

In short, his eyes are otherworldly.

Beautiful.

I don't realize I'm staring until he cocks his head to one side. "Salmon?"

I blink. What?

That's when I notice that the collar of his uniform reaches all the way to his mouth, hiding it from view. He unzips it to show me the tattoo on each corner of his mouth.

Snake eyes. Which means…

He opens his mouth next, showing me the final marking on his tongue.

Fangs.

Snake eyes and fangs.

Inumaki.

The thought yanks me out of my trance.

I scramble back on the bed, away from this boy, who thinks he can just come in here, into my room, without my permission.

His eyes widen slightly when my head bumps into the wall, and he takes a step. His hand reaches out to me.

You're so pretty.

Different room. Different hand.

Hold her down.

Darker.

Is this-

I shrink back. "Stop."

He pauses, his hand lingering in the air between us. Hesitating. Unsure.

I hiss at him, "Get out. I don't want you here. Don't ever come in like that again."

He lifts his hands up in a placating gesture, showing his palms to me. They're callused, suggesting that he's well trained in weapons.

Well trained in holding things. Strong enough to keep something pinned-

He takes two steps back from me, and I can practically read the words in his eyes and his actions. I'm not going to hurt you.

I take a breath. Two.

"What do you want?" I ask. My voice is hoarse from disuse. When was the last time I talked? Probably when that Maki girl came in.

He looks pointedly towards the tray of food he'd set down on the nightstand. I follow suit.

He wants me to eat, just like Satoru and Ms. Leiri want me to eat.

I understand why those two would. Satoru is my brother, and Ms. Leiri is a doctor.

What's Inumaki's reason?

I turn my head away from him, dismissing his request. I'm not hungry, and I don't want him here. This is my room now, my untouched sanctuary. He'll taint it with his searching hands.

I hear him move closer and quickly shoot him a glare filled with warning. He points towards the glass of water on the tray, keeping his other hand up still.

Drink.

If I'm not going to eat, I should at least drink some water. That's what he's trying to tell me.

What makes him entitled to order me around, though? What, just because he's a boy, he gets that power over me?

As if I'd ever let that happen here.

This isn't the estate, or the Gojo Clan.

This is…

My eyes wander to the snake eyes bordering his mouth. He's from a clan, like me.

Like me.

My fingers twitch.

He angles his head again, his mouth quirking to the side to form a slightly exasperated look. Again, I read the words in that expression. Why?

Isn't that the question of the century?

Why won't I eat? Why can't I get out of bed? Why don't I want to? Why, why, why?

When I don't answer, he slowly points at the bed. Can I sit?

On my bed?

Let us in.

Hold her-

He sits on the very edge, keeping his hands in his lap as he seems to study me. A small frown forms on his face.

I stay pressed against the wall, even sidling into the corner when he sits. I stay as far from him as possible.

Inumaki sighs, his expression turning pensive. Then he gives me a small smile before reaching for my tray of food.

I stare at him, not quite sure why he's now eating one of the meat skewers, and seems to be thoroughly enjoying it in front of me.

It's really that good?

He even goes as far as to take one of the orange slices and bite into it, his face lighting up at the taste. He gives me a look that says, Delicious.

Is he baiting me into eating?

That's low, especially for an Inumaki.

When he's finished, he points with a thumb behind him, towards the bathroom. I find myself…nodding.

About two minutes pass as he lingers in it. I stare at the closed door, remembering how he seemed to enjoy the food.

I look toward the three other meat skewers and orange slices. Maybe it was low for him to bait me like that, but…

My stomach grumbles.

I'm hungry.