Yesterday, Chihiro gave me a strawberry lollipop. I'm not sure what inspired her to even make eye contact with me, but she glanced at me with those beady little eyes and sang Here! I got you something from the store! and I could tell from the scent of the bag she was holding that it was full of candy.
And I hate candy.
It leaves me with a bitter taste. It's like I was supposed to enjoy the sweet touch of sugar against my lips and accept it into my body without thinking of all the calories it would add to my waistline.
I'm starting to sound like my sister, or maybe I'm starting to sound like my sister talking about me.
You're gaining weight, Mukuro.
Have you tried working out?
Candy and other sweet treats were only temporarily rewarding. The satisfaction would bite me back later.
Like today.
Chihiro tilts her head. "Miss Ikusaba, is something bothering you?"
"No," I mutter, uncrossing my arms and straightening my posture to assume a more confident stance. "I'm fine."
"Well, then," Chihiro nods, readjusting her skirt, "I'm glad to hear that!"
She was too soft, too frail, too goddamn annoying. If I gave into my feelings, I'd end up a softie just like her. I watched her watch me for a few minutes, unapologetically staring at me like an AI awaiting a response. Maybe she'd hacked into her own brain and turned herself into an AI; anything was possible.
"It's just..." Chihiro whispers, fiddling with her thumbs. "Usually, Miss Enoshima is with you. I thought you might be a bit lonely waiting here by yourself."
"I'm not in need of company," I repeat. "Leave me alone."
What was taking Junko so long to get here? I couldn't wait until she swung by and saved me from this bittersweet computer geek and people would finally leave me alone for just one goddamn second.
"A-alright," Chihiro stutters, looking down at the floor with unease. "I'll leave now..."
But something about the feeling when a piece of sugar first hits your tongue fills you with ecstasy, and your brain doesn't really seem to care that it'll make you fat, you reach into the bag and stuff more into your face and before you even know what hit you, the entire bag is empty.
All these candy metaphors to say: I make questionable decisions.
"I'm joking," I smile. Chihiro's face lights up, but it's a rather dim light. Clearly she's confused, and I don't blame her. I'm confused myself.
"P-pardon?" she mumbles, readjusting her satchel as she waits for a response.
"I could use some company, actually," I blurt out. I know Junko will be angry. I'm not supposed to talk to others without her permission. I can talk to a select few; Celestia Ludenberg, Makoto Naegi, Leon Kuwata, and then there's the upperclassmen Mikan Tsumiki and Ryota Mitarai. Chihiro doesn't exactly fall anywhere on that list. I'm not even exaggerating when I say that she could end up dead because of me.
"V-very well," Chihiro nods, setting her bag besides my desk. "It's a pleasure to be able to talk to you."
Junko warned me to stay away from flattery. Chihiro, however, seems like a person with good intentions. It's just hard to tell, I guess.
