Smack.
The sound of the slap echoed across the room.
"How many times do I have to say it?" Miyu's father's voice was harsh, laced with long-nursed
bitterness. "I don't want to see your face anywhere near my daughter!."
Miri gasped, eyes wide. Her chopsticks clattered against the floor as anger surged in her chest.
She was about to shout, but Itsuki raised his hand slightly, stopping her. His face remained
calm, as if this scene had played out countless times before.
Ishida (Miyu's Father) glared at him, voice cutting like a blade. "You've grown taller. Stronger, even. But
in the end… you're still worthless and will be worthless get the fuck out of here before i beat the shit out of you!!."
The words hung in the air like poison.
Miri's hands clenched. Her voice trembled with rage as she broke the silence. "Why are you so
rude to him? Do you think Miyu would ever approve of this? She'd never want to see you treat him this way!"
Before the tension could escalate further, the familiar nurse appeared at the doorway. "Mr.
Ishida, please," she said softly, trying to calm him. "You'll disturb the patient."
Ishida scoffed but said nothing more. He cast Itsuki one last look of contempt before stepping out into the hall.
Miri's chest was heaving. She turned to Itsuki, who stood there silently, his cheek still red from
the blow. Without another word, she grabbed his hand firmly and pulled him along.
"You're coming with me."
Itsuki didn't resist. He let her guide him, step by step, until they pushed open the heavy door
leading to the hospital rooftop. Miri finally let go, spinning around to face him. Her eyes were
blazing. "How long have you been enduring that? How many times has he done this to you?, Itsuki it's not like it was your fault!."
Miri reached up without asking, her fingers brushing lightly against the bright red mark on
Itsuki's cheek. The sunlight caught the edge of it, making it stand out even more against his pale skin.
"Let me see…" she muttered, her brows furrowed. God, you're so stupid. Her voice carried that mix of frustration and worry only a friend could have. "All these muscles you've built, all this strength… but your head is still completely empty."
She pulled her hand back and glared at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Don't worry, Itsuki. I'll talk to Miyu's mother about this. She'll listen. That man thinks he can slap you all he wants, but I won't let him keep treating you like trash. Not anymore. For the first time in forever, Itsuki's lips curved just slightly. Not a smile he forced, not one hiding
his pain, but something faintly grateful.
Miri huffed, trying to hide the warmth in her own chest. "You wait here, okay? I'll get our food from the room. Try not to get into trouble while I'm gone. She turned quickly, heading toward the rooftop stairs with quick steps.
Itsuki exhaled slowly, squinting up at the blindingly clear sky. The sunlight felt heavy on his skin, but for once it didn't burn. For the first time in years, the weight pressing down on him didn't feel like it belonged only to him.
Finally… someone was here beside him. Someone he could trust.
Miri returned to the room, and pick ups the two bentos ishida is sitting near miyu holding her
hand miri leaves the room and stops. "You better say sorry to him," Miri said, loud enough for Ishida to hear through the half-open
door. Her voice had that sharp, steady edge it always did when she couldn't stand injustice. "I
know you're in pain too, but it's not right to take it out on others. Hitting him will not bring her
back."
Ishida's jaw tightened. He didn't answer, but Miri saw the confession in the way his shoulders dipped for a breath; anger, grief, and pride tangled into silence.
She didn't wait for a reply. Sliding the door shut, she carried the food out into the hall, muttering under her breath. Stupid old man…
Just as she turned the corner, she almost bumped into someone. A tall figure leaned casually against the wall. His presence was calm but heavy, the kind that filled the space without a word.
"Have you seen a tall boy with a scarred face around here?" Hayato asked, his tone steady.
Miri frowned, hugging the trays close. "His name's Itsuki. What are you, another one here to slap him? If you are, I'll beat you to a pulp myself."
Her glare was sharp, protective.
Hayato chuckled quietly, shaking his head. You've got quite the tongue, young lady. So you know him… That's a surprise. He tilted his head slightly. "Tell him to come see me once he's done with his things.
Miri squinted, suspicious, but before she could ask more, Hayato placed a large hand gently on her head. "Take care of him," he said softly. Then, without waiting for a response, he walked away down the hall, his figure disappearing like mist.
Miri stood frozen for a moment, bewildered, before huffing and stomping toward the stairs.
"What is with all these weird men…"
When she reached the rooftop, the bright daylight stung her eyes. Itsuki was there, sitting with his back against the fence, staring at the endless sky. The breeze tugged at his tied hair,carrying with it a silence that weighed heavier than words.
Itsuki, you dumbass you have some beef with all these men? Miri jabbed him in the ribs, half
teasing, half exasperated. "An old man was looking for you. I told him if he wanted to beat you up, I'd beat him to a pulp first." She made a fierce face, trying to look scarier than she felt.
Itsuki only blinked, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was trying to hide something. "He doesn't seem like he wanted to hurt me," he said quietly.
Miri squinted at him. "Then who was he? A stalker? A jealous ex like seriously? Some creep from the neighborhood?" She snorted. "You always get the weirdest attention."
Itsuki's fingers found the edge of the railing and curled around it. He looked at the city below
them, then back at Miri. "That might have been Hayato," he said, the name falling flat but steady.
"Hayato?" Miri repeated, tasting the word as if it were new. "He looked… kind of strong." She
laughed a little, unable to keep the small smile from sneaking in. "And scary. Like the teacher
you don't want to piss off."
Itsuki shook his head. He found me when I collapsed. He brought me in. He's a retired assassin
he… taught me things.The last word carried weight. He didn't elaborate, and his jaw set like he wasn't interested in explaining the unpleasant parts.
Miri says don't joke around an assasin hmph, then her expression softened. The teasing left her face and something warmer settled in. He saved you, she said, the sentence more like a
realization than a question. "He took you in. That's not something a stranger does."
Itsuki shrugged, but the movement was small. "He did." He looked at the smear of sunlight and thought of miyu like a reminder of what he'd been given strength for. "He said he
would help. He kept his word."
Miri chewed at her lip, thinking. She had already decided, probably the moment she'd seen Itsuki's cheek and the tired set of his shoulders, that Hayato was on her limited list of people to trust. "We should meet him," she said suddenly. "I want to thank him and i almost forgot he said tell him to meet me when he's free. I want to see what kind of man would take your nonsense seriously enough to do something about it."
Itsuki's eyes flicked to hers, and for the first time that day he didn't look guarded.
"Then let's go," Miri said, already moving to stand. She hesitated, then added, softer, "But before that. We should make sure Miyu is okay first. And you should eat." She shoved a bento toward
him, mock-offended. I brought this back for you. Eat. He picked up the chopsticks with hands that still trembled slightly. "You don't have to force me"
"Yes I do," she cut in. You shut up and eat. And later, we will go meet your scary old teacher
and beat him up if he so much as looks at you funny. She punched his shoulder lightly. Got it? Itsuki calmly says yes you win.
They sat on the sun warmed concrete, bent knees making a small circle of privacy atop the
hospital roof. Miri popped open her bento with a click and pushed one toward him. The plastic
container steamed in the bright air, ordinary and grounding.
"So this Hayato guy," she said between mouthfuls, wiping soy from her lip with the back of her hand. "You said he taught you things. Sounds dramatic. Assassin teacher, huh? Does he wear a
cape when he shows up?"
Itsuki let out the tiniest dry sound that could have been a laugh. "No capes. He's like a family.
He found me collapsed in an alley. Brought me in. Told me to stop wasting myself and to train.
He kept to his word."
Good man, then, Miri said, nodding, then grew suddenly serious. "You tell me whether he's
nice or scary. If he's scary, I'll like him. Scary people understand you." She poked his arm. "Also, you owe me a full explanation for disappearing. What were you trying to do, Itsuki? And what are you planning to do from now on? You don't get to be a mystery and then act surprised when everyone thinks you vanished."
Itsuki chewed slowly, choosing words like stones. "I trained. I" He looked away, "I couldn't leave her. So I didn't. I didn't go back to school. I trained. I kept watch. That's all."
Miri's expression softened as if the sharp edges of her anger were sanding down. She reached out and banged his shoulder lightly with the back of her hand. Stupid. You could've told me. I would've helped. You don't have to be alone with this. He swallowed. "I know."
They ate in companionable silence for a while, the city noise drifting up like a distant tide.
Between bites, Miri talked about trivial school gossip she'd missed and small, silly things Miyu used to do little anchors to the life they'd all once shared. Itsuki listened, sometimes answering with a word, sometimes with a guarded half-smile, and each small sound from him felt like proof that the gap between them was narrowing.
When the boxes were nearly empty, Miri jabbed him with a grin. "Okay, after this, we're going to see your man Hayato. You better tell me everything, and you better not try to run away. Promise me."
Itsuki met her eyes. He felt, absurdly, like a boy again made dangerous by scars, but still a boy
who could be coaxed by persistence and kindness. "I promise," he said, and for once the word was as simple and true as the food they had shared.
The two of them headed back downstairs, the hospital hallways quieter. When they reached
Miyu's room, her father was gone. The silence felt lighter without his shadow pressing on them.
Itsuki walked up to Miyu's bedside. He gently took her hand in both of his, the way he always
did, his thumb brushing across her knuckles. His voice was low, rough, almost a whisper meant only for her.
"I'll come back tomorrow," he said, like a vow rather than a farewell.
Miri stood by the doorway, watching him with a softened smile. For the first time, she could see the boy she once knew, buried under the scars and silence. She stepped closer and leaned over Miyu with a grin that trembled into something tender.
"Miyu, you better wake up soon," she said softly. "I have so many things to tell you. So many things to complain about too. Don't keep us waiting forever, okay?"
The room held its quiet for a heartbeat longer, filled only by the steady rhythm of Miyu's
breathing. Then Miri tugged lightly at Itsuki's sleeve. "Come on. Let's go. That old man's waiting for you, right?"
Itsuki gave one last look at Miyu before letting go of her hand. Together, he and Miri stepped out into the hallway, the sound of their footsteps echoing faintly as they left the hospital behind walking toward the meeting that would decide their next path.
They stepped outside into the afternoon blaze, where sunlight poured down in wild, unrelenting
waves, making the whole street shimmer like fire."My head hurts," Miri complained, hand pressed to her temple, but her grin was wide. But hey today you talked so much. I'm so happy. What a heartfelt reunion. Give me your number. Itsuki's eyes flicked to her. I don't have a phone, he said simply. "I sold it for money. Haven't bought another yet."
Miri stared at him like he'd said the moon was square. "Jeez, Itsuki. Why are you like this?
Phones are important. I have an extra at home they keys are kinda hard to press but it works fine, I'll give it to you later."
He waved a hand. It's okay. I don't need it.
"Shut up," she said fondly, tugging him along toward Hayato's place. The walk was longer. "How much further? I'm so thirsty," she moaned and slumped onto a low public bench, the day's energy collapsing into childlike fatigue.
Itsuki scanned the street. Convenience store across from us. I'll get you something. He
pointed and already had his feet moving before she could protest.
"Why aren't you tired at all?" she called after him.
"Just wait here," he replied over his shoulder.
Miri watched him go, a hush of soft joy settling in her chest. He was talking. He was here. She
let herself think, for a dangerous moment, that maybe the rough shape of him could be softened again. She had all sorts of petty, happy ideas about how to drag him back into the world. Then a group of boys three of them, bored and loud loitered near the bench. They noticed her.
"Hey, cutie," one slurred, stepping forward with a grin that smelled of cheap cologne. "Come
hang with us."
Miri rolled her eyes. "Go away, punks. I'm not interested. Leave me alone."
They laughed. The leader stepped closer, irritaed. "But we're interested you bitch stop playing hard to get." He grabbed her hand roughly.
Heat slammed through Miri. She tried to wrench free, voice rising, but the grip tightened.