❝ you will 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 have a special place in my heart, and that terrifies me. ❞
Kohana Akaashi is your basic chip off the block stubborn asshole. Abides by her own rules, doesn't take shit and doesn't do anything she doesn't have to. Keeping fri...
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I gently tapped my knuckles against the door, almost hoping that Katsu would ignore the knock and I could just leave in peace without having to go through an awkward confrontation. I wasn't even sure what I was supposed to say to him. Should I apologize for knocking him out?
Nah. I didn't feel sorry for what I did, and Katsu would know I was full of shit before I even opened my mouth. If anything, he should be thanking me. Truly, I saved his ass.
"You can come on in now."
I took a deep breath, before slowly letting it out and pushing the door open.
There were already a few get-well cards and flowers set on the table. Who other than Sakura would have brought him flowers—I had no idea, but I couldn't say I was all that surprised. Even in a village that wasn't his own Katsu remained Mr.Popular.
I wrinkled my nose at the sight, noticing that all the other flowers that sat on the table were a lot nicer than the ones I brought. And when I say a lot nicer, I mean a lot nicer. They looked like ones you'd buy for prissy girls that whined over a bit of dirt on their clothes, or that belonged in a house for a mega rich person.
In other words, whoever had gone through the trouble to get those had a thick ass wallet.
My gaze drifted over to the bed where Katsu sat underneath a thin linen sheet, single leg poking out to rest on a pillow. The injured ankle was wrapped in clean bandages, the swelling a crazy difference to what it had been in the forest when I first saw it.
He must have gotten that well needed shower too, since his face was no longer dirty, skin squeaky clean and hair only a bit tousled, most likely just having woken up from a nap not too long ago.
He wore a simple black t-shirt, the band of grey sweatpants barely visible. A book he was reading sat propped open in his lap, a few others stacked on the table beside the bed, the titles referencing areas of medical ninjutsu.
I stood in the doorway with the flowers clasped in my hands, waiting for him to look up and say something to me.
I didn't know what the hell to do—and truly, I didn't understand why I was being so finicky. Normally I wouldn't have given a second thought to my actions and just waltz over to drop in the hospital chair. But doing that didn't seem like the right thing to do.
Or was it? Maybe it was in my best interest to just act like my normal self. Act all casual and say a few rude ass jokes that made people hate me more. I've always been pretty good at that. Or should I make conversation about the book he's reading?
