The Ultimate Stride | Prince of Stride Fanfiction |

40 | Warmth

    | {Kyouko's P.O.V.} |

    "Tomoe."

    "Yes, Kyouko?"

    "If you touch my ass one more time, I will not hesitate to shove my fist down your throat."

    "Is that so?"

    "Yes. Please stop."

    "Okay." His hand respectively slithered back onto his lap.

    We were sitting on the make-shift bleachers Happy Land had set up for the race spectators when that short yet venomous conversation took it's course.

    Ayumu, Dan-sensei, Tomoe, and I were sitting together in one of the middle rows with nothing but ourselves and a ginormous sign that splayed 'GO HÔNAN!' across the front of it with splotches of red and blue paint thrown here and there.

    The race would be starting sometime in those next few minutes, and everything was going well so far. The weather was perfect for running and the boys were in the middle of their formalities with Saisei.

    I always hated formalities. They were a tedious thing to do in the moments leading up to what really mattered.

    They didn't require you to do much. It was only a matter of bowing to your opponents before the audience and scampering off to your starting point afterwards. They were short and punctual. Nothing too obfuscating.

    Today the formalities feel much longer because I'm sitting next to this idiot.

Coincidentally, Tomoe was the person sitting next to me in our line of four. Ayumu was the furthest away from me while Dan-sensei was sitting on the other side of Tomoe.

We were all in close range of each other, but Tomoe had pushed our level of closeness to an almost baffling extent. The boy was practically smothering me. While we were in public, too.

Instead of keeping his hands within the boundaries of his own person, he strategically kept them at his sides. Every other minute or so, the one facing me would slowly creep over to where it was resting comfortably against my butt.

    Yeah, like I mentioned earlier. My ass.

His palms were facing down, so it wasn't like he was full-on groping me, but the contact was too intentional to go ignored. He was doing it on purpose, and it was making my head spin like a ballerina on crack.

It was treacherous.

I wanted to kill the bastard for embarrassing me, but causing a scene at an event as important as EOS would only dampen Hônan's squeaky clean reputation.

I need to remain calm. I can't yell at him, and I can't pummel him.

"So," he began to thumb his fingers against the material of his pants. "Were you really that frazzled over the text I sent you yesterday?"

Don't punch him, I meditated.

"Yes. It was repulsive. I'm surprised I didn't vomit."

A rich laugh escaped the depths of his throat. "It couldn't have been that bad to receive. I was only forewarning you about my plans to come here and cheer with you."