the clock ticks two

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FEAR MADE
FOOLS OUT
OF MEN
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Someone once told Miyoshi Shichiro that in his line of work, he shouldn't be squeamish and childish when it came to being hurt and dealing with blood. But that didn't stop him, not at all. Shichiro never liked the colour of blood, the carmine red appeared more sinister to him more so to other people. He was fine with pain, it didn't bother as much, but blood and the vivid red-stained colour would always be something he feared. Especially when it came leaking from his sister's wounded forearms, Shichiro just couldn't stand it.

He hid behind Aki Hayakawa's annoyed figure, with one eye shut and the other eye peaking through his long charcoal eyelashes. Shichiro's lips trembled as he resisted the urge to wail aloud at his sister's suffering, he thought that even for a knucklehead like Aki Hayakawa, the least he could do is pick up shards of glass embedded in his sister's forearms.

Aki Hayakawa works well under pressure, but the prospect of the annoying older man gasping at Manami's stained shirt and bleeding arms every few seconds or so made the task seem even more dreary than it was.

"Please Miyoshi-san, I'm trying to do something here." He spoke grumpily, slowly pulling the last piece of glass out of Manami's aching hands. Aki patted her knee, he was proud of her resistance to the pain. (not that she felt it anyway) "You didn't even flinch. Well done, Manami-chan." Aki praised.

Shichiro peeked over Aki's shoulders, and instantly, the colour drained from his face. "Aki-chan you idiot! You're digging too harshly in there... you're going to hurt my precious sister!" He whined and placed his arms around Aki's broad shoulders, gently shaking some sense into the tired younger man. Shichiro failed to notice the sharp pair of scissors in his hands but Manami was quick to pluck the pair out from Aki's hands.

"Brother, please dont bother Aki anymore. He's trying to finish the job you were too lazy to finish," She teased, leaning back into her seat with a smug grin on her lips. Inside her chest, the pulsating agony of a tsunami rushing through her intestines made a cold shiver run down the ridges of her spine. But she ignored it, focusing on the visual action of Aki's annoyed grumbles and his fingers gripping the pair of tweezers in his hands shakily, pulling the glass carefully.

No one asked how she got the wounds, and she didn't bother telling them anyway. It was normal, pain was a good method to learn new perspectives.

Aki resumes his task, ignoring the whining man. "Oi Aki-chan, don't ignore me!" Shichiro frowned and moved away from behind Aki to crouch next to Manami's seated figure. He waved a hand in front of Aki's indifferent expression, blinking once or twice to digest the younger man's emotionless face. "You're pretty, Aki-chan." Shichiro smiled childishly.

He wasn't wrong. Aki Hayakawa could carve angels from his weeping skin, and they would be moulded by the silk he wore on his face. The curvature of his jaw and the structure of his face was like the perfectly schemed architecture of Rome. Aki Hayakawa is a hauntingly beautiful man with a treacherous mind that reigned his heart in.

Manami bit back a smile, instead, she sat up straighter in the chair. She watched Aki's eyes twitch in annoyance, but the younger man only sighed and continued ignoring the jubilant older man. "Can you pass me that washcloth over there, Manami?" He asked, pointing to the ragged piece of cloth.

"Aki-chan!" Shichiro whined, poking Aki's furrowed brows jokingly. "You're getting old... it's not too late to marry me, y'know?" Aki's cheeks turned red with rage, flushing his bones with a burning flame fit from fury. "Uh oh. You blushing there, darlin'?" He teased even further.

Someone once told Miyoshi Shichiro not to get on people's nerves so quickly, but unfortunate enough for the latter, Shichiro loved finding different ways to push their buttons. Miyoshi Shichiro made jokes when he was uncomfortable, Miyoshi Shichiro is humane.

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