TRANSLUCENT

breathing • 03

───── 💌! ❝ when you see my face, hope it gives you hell ❞

[ GIVES YOU HELL — The All-American Rejects ]

"Don't you dare scream."

It was almost like Scaramouche had read my mind.

I wouldn't have held back the urge to yell if he hadn't served this warning as a starter. It was for the better, because it saved me the trouble of explaining the situation to Itto and to the cops who might have been called to his doorstep by the neighbours. He wouldn't be of much help to me either, because whenever he was home alone, he slept with a tennis racquet under his pillow to ward off any intruders. Like that would make them cower and surrender. His brain was wired the same way mine was—anything that was solid and within reach was a weapon.

However, none of that meant that I wasn't on the verge of having a heart attack, my fingers gripping the arms of the chair like claws.

I hoped this wasn't something I would need to get used to.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

There was no response for several seconds, making me wonder if he was truly in front of me. I had grown numb to my surroundings, to the paws tapping against my skin, to the crows screaming overhead. I tried to stand up, reminding myself that I might need to make a run for it if he decided that he'd had enough of me.

"I think I'm schizophrenic."

"Oh shut up. And stop being— holy shit!"

His face contorted into an enormous grimace once his eyes landed on the excited pup next to me, whose tail swung to and fro like a clock's pendulum. He liked this weird apparition, somehow. Another betrayal.

Whatever happened to the theory that pets were shrewd judges of characters? Was mine just dumb?

"Oni. Can you see him too?"

"You talk to animals? How very fitting."

I ignored his remark, my gaze following my dog's movements. He was busy bearing holes into Scaramouche's head, his focus rigid and dedicated. I couldn't begin to explain how relieved I was to see him acknowledge his presence — to find out that I was just unfortunate, not a mental patient. At least this boy was real. It didn't matter that I would never be able to explain what or who he was to others.

"Keep that disgusting thing away from me."

"Kill yourself."

"I'm already dead." He retorted.

"I hold no sympathy for you."

The bridge of his nose was pinched, accentuating his distaste. This was the kind of reaction one would expect from the filthy rich, who deemed everyone below them bugs. It flared a spark of anger within my heart, my arm shielding Oni from him. I knew a mere piece of flesh wouldn't be able to protect him from someone who had powers beyond human capacity, but it would guarantee my death first, which was what I would want if anything ever happened to him.