The Disappearance of Osomatsu-san

Chapter 128: A Slip-Up

He fucked up. Again. Oh my god, he fucked up again.

Shit. I didn't expect the explosion to be that bad.. I still need to get used to handling these abilities. They're harder to handle than they look. Fucking Kamimatsu, making them look easy.

This was more of a fuck-up than the other mistakes he did. And he didn't just get a bruise or a scratch, or even a sprained ankle or a broke an arm of his. No, he had a really nasty burn on his left hand, and he was thankful he was the only one at the bridge at this time of the day. He dipped his left hand into the cool water, hissing at the stinging sensation. Thank god no one was around to see that nasty burn. Akatsuka Ward was a fairly small place, and people in the small town knew him like the back of their own hand. He didn't want his parents knowing about this either, oh god. They didn't deserve to know. They didn't deserve to see their stupid, only son had gotten himself into. They didn't deserve to see the monster he had become.

His red eyes focused on the burn at his left hand. Shit. He wouldn't be able to hide something like this easily. Sure, the cuts and bruises on both of his arms were easier to hide due to the fact he rarely wore anything that exposed his arms, but his hand? Absolutely bullshit. Especially since he ate with his parents, they were bound to notice the nasty red color, as well as the blood dripping from it. Dipping it in the lake was a way to soothe it, but it wasn't really doing much. Plus, he couldn't spend the entire day under the bridge. If someone saw him, they might tell his parents.

If he was a normal person, he might have reacted a bit more besides flinching and deciding to hastily dump his own left arm on the water. But he wasn't. So here he was, sitting under the bridge with his left arm on the flowing water, and he did his best to not grab the fish that were making contact with his arm. If he didn't know how to control his temper, he probably would have grabbed the fish and immediately cook them in an open fire he could make with the snap of his fingers. But seeing as how the abilities were hard to control, as well as unpredictable if he didn't know how to use them properly, he probably wouldn't do anything for now. He didn't want his entire arm coming off.

And even though he actually blew up the bridge, the abilities he had enabled him to reverse time, even for just a few seconds. That was enough for him to reverse his fuck-up and fix the bridge and any other damages he could have done, but he ended up underneath the bridge and on his butt, and with a burned left palm. Sure, it was painful as hell, but it was better to have such a thing on his weak body rather than possibly having any other innocent bystanders involved, even if he was the only one at the bridge.

Today just isn't my day, I guess.

"Are you okay?! Are you hurt?!"

He snapped his head to the source of the voice.

Crap! Does this mean someone did see the explosion?! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit-!

As the bottom of the bridge was dark, he couldn't see a thing, even with the sun shining against the water. Quickly, he pulled his left arm out of the water and grabbed his black hoodie from the ground, shaking it with his free hand to dust off the snow and dirt from it. "Tch.." He clicked his tongue in annoyance. He wasn't in the mood to act right now, but he needed to save his ass right now. Mustering all the strength that he could, he forced himself to look pained and even went to the trouble to slightly raise the volume of his voice to sound as if he was in distress. "A-Ah.. I'm fine, miss..! J-Just had.. a little accident.. lighting a fire.. that's all.."

This was, in fact, one of the most disgraceful things he could do to himself, and his own dignity as a human being. He found it shameful that he had to go through all the trouble to pretend he was the slightest bit normal to the people of Akatsuka Ward, and that included his own family and childhood friends, if he didn't want them to worry about him or even bring him to some doctor to check if his mental state was okay. He didn't need people in fancy coats to tell him there was something wrong, he knew for a fact that he, a person who hadn't gotten a decent sleep in ten years, was completely normal and sane, and the eye bags underneath his eyes and his obsession for owls and tendency to hoot at something whenever he finds it adorable was just plain normal.