𝙎𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙍𝙀𝘿 𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙍𝘼𝙂𝙀 - 𝚔𝚒𝚢𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚜𝚊

vii. in the sunset boulevard

I am breathing.

I woke up, as the universe gave me a new day, with the same thought:

I AM AWESOME.

Yet today, it felt quite different from the regular ones.

I feel like bullshit.

Trying not to meditate in such emotions, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, held it for five seconds, and slowly let it out.

I had this kind of irritation creeping through my bloodstreams upon waking up. I needed to recover from this, almost not accepting that I, being an awesome person, would harbor negative energy to my system.

Rearranging my mood for today, I resolved, soon after standing in front of the very center of this academy, and treaded to the building where my classroom was located.

I arrived kinda late than my usual arrival time, but I didn't care for now.

Soon, I reached my class brooding with a foreboding atmosphere. And seeing these bunch of people summed up my irritation.

I hated going to class lately. The past week in this section had made a great difference, and every day was a pain in the ass.

I sighed to exhaled the annoyance from my system.

It all started when that asshole . . . That asshole.

Kiyoomi Sakusa.

🌸🌸🌸

The day after I met Kiyoomi in the Hikarigaoka Park—Sunday—as I finished my work in his unit, I fixed my things inside my bag.

As usual, he was having his leisure on his couch. The whole time, he was just watching me cleaning. And of course, with his usual expressionless and bored eyes. He was checking the way I clean if it was right in the preference of that royal jerk-face.

He wouldn't help me. Or maybe, he wanted to, but had no position to offer me support.

I didn't really mind. It was my job. And if he'd give his help, it would turn into a mess.

He was extra annoyed lately, I could tell. Though not with me.

Dude got stalker issues and didn't know how to handle it.

And not my problem.

I already had my own problems to deal with, and I didn't want him to invade my breathing space any further.

Finishing my task in this unit earlier than expected, thus sooner, I was about to leave.

I shifted my head where he was, then I attempted to say:

"Yo, I'm—" I stopped the mid-sentence.

Kiyoomi was already standing behind me, as if he was prepared to send me off.

I frowned, either in vexation or confusion.

He was wearing usual comfy clothes and a face mask, hands being kept in the pockets of his hoodie, staring at me impassively for a long, silent moment. And I did have an urge to stab him in the eyes.

Overwhelmed by bewilderment, nonetheless, I muttered, "I'm going."

He didn't say a thing, his stares were speaking for him. As if his stares could speak.