The Tiger And A Thousand Winters in That Place

Field

'Wanna eat ramen on the weekend?' Baji commented offhandedly as we slurped on cheap yakisoba cup noodles.

'We're eating right now.' I blinked, stealing a few noodles from Baji's cup. 'Are you that hungry?'

'Hey, you-!' Baji attempted to take the noodles back by grabbing for my cup, but I was already darting up and three meters away.

'You're an ass.' Baji said with feeling, to which I laughed at. 'A pretty ass, but an ass. You're hanging out too much with Kazutora.'

'At least Tora's smarter than you.' I teased, sitting back down as I offered Baji my cup. 'Mr. I-Could've-Failed-Primary-School.'

'You don't know that.' Baji grinned, jabbing his chopsticks into his cup with too much force. 'Kazutora failed Math.'

I raised an eyebrow, recalling Kazutora jabbing a proud 100 into my face. Somehow that didn't seem right.

'We all have a bet going on to see how many times you'll get held back in middle school, not for Tora.' I shrugged.

As far as I was concerned, that was all the evidence I needed to prove Baji was an idiot.

'What the fuck.' Baji complained good-naturedly as he swiped a few noodles back off me. 'I'm gonna punch your skulls in.'

'Do you even know what a skull is?' I teased, eyeing Baji slyly.

'Why, you-!'

I predicted the fist hurtling my way, just like it always did whenever I opened my mouth. But I let Baji punch me in the arm this time, cause I kinda deserved it.

I regretted my decision instantly when pain shot up my left arm. A noise that sounded an awful lot like a crack rang throughout the air.

'What the fuck, Kei!' I hissed, cup noodles falling with a clatter on the ground as I jumped away from Baji. Even if my arm wasn't fractured, that was so gonna bruise.

'Shit!' Baji's eyes widened in surprise. He pushed his yakisoba to the side to hover over me anxiously. Sure enough, blue and purple was starting to bloom under my skin.

'What do you mean 'shit'? Aren't you the one who punched me?' I asked incredulously, wincing when I poked the bruise lightly. Pain jolted up my arm whenever I tried to move it.

'Yeah, I didn't think you'd stand there and take it!' Baji looked back at me with the same, incredulous expression.

'You. Are such an idiot.' I said slowly, glancing down at my deceased yakisoba. 'And you murdered my cup noodles. I hate you.'

'Doesn't matter. You're stuck with me for life.' Baji flashed a toothy grin as he gave me a hard whack on the back.

'Literally why do I know you.' I glared at him. 'I hate you. Please never text me again.'

'Sure, I'll come by to see you every day.' Baji ruffled my hair, which I'd spent a whole hour on this morning.

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. Deep breaths, (Y/n). First degree murder can lead to 10 years in jail. It's not worth it. Don't do it. Don't fucking do it.

While I sat there contemplating my life decisions, Baji stood up and started sprinting over to the convenience store across the street, probably to buy me bandages.

'Bandages don't heal bruises!' I yelled after him.

All I saw was a messy head of shoulder length hair, so I assumed Baji was going to come back with a pack of band aids. It took another ten seconds to convince myself Baji wasn't worth wasting away in jail for.