Identity Disorder {A Juuzou Suzuya Story}

Chapter 12

"Why don't you ever wear short sleeves, Emi?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin from her position on the couch. Laying leisurely on the couch with her mind racing far beyond her taste, she peaked an eye open. Unimpressed when she saw Juuzou standing over her and holding his face so close to her own. Though it made her skin flush, she grew irritated that the man knew no form of personal space.

"Why don't you ever get out of my face, Suzuya?"

The white haired man frown and crossed his arms at her attitude.

"What happened to you calling me Juuzou?" He pouted with a lip stuck out. "I quite liked hearing you say my name."

The flush that was already littering her cheeks darkened and she took a hand to push Juuzou out her way.

"Go away."

He sighed dramatically before flopping on the floor in front of Emiko. Juuzou threw his arms in the air as if having a tantrum before turning to look at the coffee brown eyes that always stared so angry at him.

"You didn't answer my question." The pouted expression returned to his face as he crossed his arms childishly. He never understood why Emiko was so mean. She wasn't even mean in a fun way. She was no fun and he was only being curious.

Emiko thought about the invasive question and did not like the idea of answering it. It was too personal and he would ask to see. Not to say Juuzou has not seen her skin but deep down she felt shame at the idea of it. Shame at the idea of the scars that filled the spaces of her skin and shame at how they got there. Shameful of what she had been through.

"Because I don't like my arms." She answered simply and closed, much to the man's displeasure. Though she did not care for his feelings, she did not dare imagine what he would do next.

"Get the fuck off of me!" Emiko roared in anger as Juuzou suddenly straddled her with arms pinned. Her heart raced out of her chest and pounded.

She could feel her anger slither in her belly and felt like she could suffocate in how pissed off she was. Glaring up at the crimson eyes who only eyed her playfully made her even more infuriated. All she could hear was Juuzou's laughter. He was laughing at her anger and she felt like gut checking him.

"Just let me look! It'll be fast I promise!"

Emiko shook her head in a near panic. She did not want her arms to be out. She did not want him to see her arms. She did not want anyone to see her arms at all.

"Stop it! I said no!" She yelled at man who frowned. She thought he was going to listen until she felt him jerk her right arm from its pinned position.

Emiko wriggled and yelled to get away from his grip. Angry at how strong the stitched man was and angry at how weak she suddenly seemed.

"Juuzou fucking stop!"

He seemed to ignore her as he held up the arm and began to peel back the long sleeve she wore. Emiko felt tears prick behind her eyes as she fought so hard to protect her feelings. Fisting her hand and pulling did nothing. Kicking her legs did nothing. She grew frustrated never realizing the stark strength difference between her and the rag doll man was. Though usually she was prepared to defend herself, she thought Juuzou had the decency to not attack her in a place she slept.

"I just want to see."

Juuzou breathed as he finally got the sleeve down. Exposed was deep thick scars across the ivory arm. Exposed was heavily  scarred and traumatized skin. Emiko's entire life was exposed in her arms.

Frozen in fear with brown eyes full of tears, she did not react when he pulled down the sleeve on her other arm. She felt like she was suffocating and time froze for her. Emiko tried to breathe but kept failing to fully inhale. Choking she started to feel like she was drowning. It came to her that she was having a panic attack. The idea of having a panic attack while Juuzou played with the scars in her skin was the last thing she ever wanted to do.