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ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴏᴊᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ʜᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ʙᴜᴛ ꜱᴛᴜᴄᴋ ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴛʀɪᴘ ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀᴛʜꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ. ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ꜱᴇᴇɴ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟʟʏ. ʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʜɪꜱ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ᴏꜰꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴏᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏɴ’ᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ.
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Deep in the woods lies inches of snow covering every stretch of the land in the early season of winter. Frigid cold temperatures freeze river streams to chunky sheets of ice and force wildlife into hibernation. Luckily the warmth of Nanami’s parent’s cabin, wealthy folks from old money, keeps everyone cozy and toasty as more snow falls outside.
In the living room area you all sit bundled together under thick wool blankets by a crackling fireplace, telling horror stories. Every once in a while you catch a pair of vibrant blue eyes hiding behind thick frames lingering on you. You find it to be more bone chilling and stomach dropping than the stories being told. Especially when you dare look in the snowy haired male’s direction just for him to be staring off into space or pretending to be deeply engaged in the stories being told by whoever is speaking.
You snuggle closer into Shoko’s side and try to shake the feeling of being watched. Time passes and right when you begin following the story Suguru is telling that familiar neck itching feeling of being closely watched returns. You snap your head towards Satoru who this time doesn’t pretend to look away. The both of your eyes meet for a short beat and his eyes pull you in, drowning you. Butterflies swarm circles in your belly and that’s when you decide you’ve had enough of him.
“Listen here, four eyed freak,” you begin, interrupting Suguru’s story, “keep eyeing me like a weirdo and watch me knock your glasses off your fucking face!”
Your random outburst stirs the entire room. Shoko sits upright beside you. “Woah, woah! What’s all the sudden commotion about? Chill out.”
Utahime sighs, “years later and you still can’t get along with Satoru? Seriously?”
You're quick to defend yourself, telling them how he’s been giving you looks. They don’t buy and accuse you of being delusional. Meanwhile Satoru, calculated and calm, remains silent watching the chaos play out around him. A sly smirk sneaks onto his face and your eyes wander over to him just in time to catch the display.
Seeing that cocky, mocking smirk sitting upon his face boils your blood and paints your face beet red.
“Asshole,” you spit at him. “You think this is funny? Making me look crazy as if you weren’t actually staring at me the entire time.”
When you spring off the couch, everyone else freezes in time as you blur in front of him. His hoodie’s collar bunches in your fist as you yank him close to your face. “I’ll give you something to smirk about, bastard.”
Everyone yells for you to stop, but it’s already too late. Your fist collides into his cheek. The impact jolts him back into the couch next to Nanami who watches with wide concerned eyes.
Before you whack him in the face again, Suguru and Shoko drag you away to another room. Once the door is closed shut, locked and guarded by Suguru, they shred you to pieces for your violent behavior.
“What the hell are you doing?” Shoko exclaims with spread arms. She’s in total disbelief and disappointment.
“Whatever it is you have against Satoru you need to let it go,” says Suguru.
Shoko immediately agrees, shaking her head frantically. “This is a trip to enjoy. We haven’t seen each other for years because of being away at school and you pull this bullshit? Please don’t make this trip insufferable.”
You open your mouth to protest.
“Please?” She looks you dead in the eyes.
Anything you wanted to say dissipates to nothingness. Guilt restricts you from doing anything else but nodding.
It’s gonna be a long two weeks and it’s only been two days.
The next day rolls around after a long night of awkward long silences before you had decided to call it quits, leaving to the room you share with Shoko to escape the uncomfortable atmosphere. Eventually you drifted off to sleep while watching videos on YouTube.
In the morning Shoko is nowhere to be found when you wake up from blinding beads of light peeking through the cracks of the window’s curtains. Rolling over to the side of the bed, you reach for your phone. The time reads 10:00 am and an unopened iMessage from Shoko pops up. You tap the notification to read it.
Shoko: We went into the nearest town to grab more firewood and other stuff. You’re alone with Satoru because someone had to stay behind in the cabin with you. Be back in 2 hours. BEHAVE yourself. Ttyl, luv u.
You don’t even bother replying back, hitting the power button and throwing your head back as an annoyed groan escapes you. Not wanting to leave the room, you try to lay back down to kill time, but the longer you stay in bed the more your back aches and screams at you to get up.
So, you swiftly sit back up and let out a long sigh. A whiff of morning breath invades your nose. “Gross!” You blurt out before glancing over at the door. “Fuck me man.” You refuse to stay in bed with foul morning breath.
Out of bed and in the hallway, you pray you don’t run into the white haired male. It wouldn’t end well for you, him and most importantly the entire group. Last you checked he should be up on the second floor where his room is. There’s also a second bathroom up there with a shower, toilet and sink. The thought of that cools your nerves a bit because there’s no way or reason for him to be on the main floor where you are.
You let your shoulders drop, less tense than before and lazily walk to the bathroom down the long hallway. When you enter inside, hot fog fills the space along with mixed scents of shampoo, conditioner and fresh scented body wash.
The sound of the shower curtains sliding open makes you flinch, your back hitting the closed polished wooden door frame. You gulp at the sight of him before you.
He lets out a throaty cheeky chuckle. “Aww, spying on me showering now? I didn’t know you were peeping a tom and so bold about it too.” He steps out of the tub, his sculpted torso still glistening from excessive water.
Seeing the way his muscles contract and bulge with each step he takes closer sews your lips shut.
Satoru leans down to your eye level. “What’s wrong?” He purrs. “Cat got your tongue so suddenly now?” He inches closer and you close your eyes tightly in anticipation of whatever is coming next. Nothing happens, nothing drastically to be exact. Minus his warm minty breath fanning your earlobe. “Where’d all that spunk from earlier go, hmm?”
Your face burns red from embarrassment and humiliation. Not to mention your thumping heart makes it harder to properly breathe. “Back off, dick!” You attempt to shove him away but his hand easily catches your wrist.
His grip is like an iron cuff, breathlessly tight making it impossible to move.
When did he get so strong?
He draws away and that insufferable smirk is still plastered on his face. “Whoa there, let’s not have a repeat of last night.”
You yank and pull your arm but he doesn’t let go. A growl of frustration rips from your throat. “What are you even doing down here? There’s a whole bathroom upstairs.”
His head cocks to the side and his smile fades. “Duh, I’m not a fucking idiot, I’m aware of that.”
You earn another chuckle out of him. “Because I can,” he simply admits, his smug smirk returning.
For the first time in your life you feel like a prey animal. Usually you’re the predator calling the shots, but in his grasp the dynamic has changed. Now he stands above you with his foot pressed deeply against your neck, waiting for any false move to crush you with cruel force.
The very thought of it colors your vision a blinding red. You refuse to be pushed around by a loser like Satoru.
With your free hand you swing your fist at his face, but he catches it with ease as if it’s child's play. In one swift motion in the blink of an eye, he’s got both of your wrists pinned above your head.
“Predictable, but,” he pauses, pretending to think momentarily, “cute.”
You struggle against his hold and through all your efforts you swear you can hear him getting a kick out of it all. After what seemed like forever you give up. You pant and whimper in despair entangled in humiliation.
“What is this?” You mumble.
He hums in response prompting a more refined question out of you.
“Is this supposed to be your little sick idea of payback?”
He simply shakes his head no.
“Then what? You want a fucking apology for last night?
He scoffs. “Not exactly, but if you think it’ll help, then by all means beg and grovel. Who knows? I might let you go?”
Impulsive pure rage threatens to wash over your brain, but you reject it, knowing it’ll only worsen your situation. So, you swallow your pride and every other emotion begging to rip his head off. Your head falls to avoid his piercing cruel, mischievous eyes.
His grip tightens around your wrists, ripping a whine out of you. “Say it like you mean it.”
You exhale. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
His hand squeezes harder than before and you cry out in agony from the pressure against your bones.
“Again. Like I said before, say it like you mean it. Eyes on me and all.”
A burning glare sits upon your face as you look Satoru dead in his eyes. “I. Am. Sorry.”
“Is that an attitude and a lack of genuineness?” Now, he slightly twists your wrist.
A loud wail erupts past your parched lips and fresh, hot tears burn your eyes. “I-I’m sorry…please,” you pause, fighting back a sob, “s-stop. I won’t hit you again.”
For a moment he remains unmoved, devouring the sight of you below his towering height. A dark glimmer twinkles in his eye before a cruel toothy grin spreads across his face. You see it too, the sinister glint dancing in his eyes and face. It sends acute shivers down your spine.
“I guess I can forgive you,” he says in a monotone bored voice. He clicks his tongue, releases your wrists and lazily backs away.
He leaves the bathroom, casually whistling down the hall as if nothing ever happened. As if he simply just had an amazing shower. Hearing his footsteps fade upstairs signals his absence from downstairs. On cue when you know he’s gone, you crumble to your knees on the tile floor. Slowly and carefully you observe your throbbing, inflamed wrists. As much as the tears want to fall, you don’t allow them to.
When everyone returns back to the cabin, you avoid any kind of contact with Satoru. If he comes your way, you move on the opposite side of the room. He speaks about something, it falls on deaf ears for you. Anything he does you make sure you have zero parts of it. No one seems to notice your peculiar behavior.
Minus Satoru and you know he knows. Though you pretend he’s a ghost, you feel him haunting you like one. He’s like a monitoring, looming spirit stalking your every breath and move. After the bathroom incident from earlier you thought he was done with you.
Little did you realize he’s far from done with you.
Later in the day night comes quickly and everyone huddles together in the living room area again. This time around instead of telling horror stories, a comedy film plays on the gigantic screen tv.
You slip from between Shoko and MeiMei into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. You tried to ask one of your friends to join you but both girls denied you with some sort of excuse related to being too comfortable to move and not wanting to miss any of the movie.
You only asked because you didn’t want Satoru to trail after you. A tedious gut feeling keeps telling you he’s got something else up his sleeve to mess with you. But instead of giving in to the anxious thought, you shove it aside by using logic. Everyone’s here, meaning he wouldn’t dare harass you.
You grab a drinking glass from one of the cabinets, pour cold water in the cup from the faucet and bring it to your lips to drink. Everything goes smoothly as your dry throat is soothing, until you feel something firm pressing on your spine.
You turn around to see a grinning Satoru.
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