MINIMAL [s.hitoshi & k.denki]

six

The minute Hitoshi got through the door; he could hear someone stepping towards him at a horrifying pace, socked feet padding against the wood of their apartment.

Her coat is hanging, swaying like a warning for him to turn back around and flee. Her heels are neatly placed alongside the doorway, nude suede that he remembers getting her for her birthday. Then that smell hits him just as her curled hair makes its way into his vision, and she's reaching out to hurthimhurthimhurthim.

The door shuts, and he can feel her nails and fingers tangle into his hair as she pulls him down to her level, eyes red with fury. She's seething and something inside Hitoshi has been tamed to immediately sink in fear, no noise erupting from his throat as he swallowed dryly.

"Do you.. do how long you've been gone?" It's an ominous question, but Hitoshi knows better than to reply with a snarky answer.

Because no, no he doesn't.

"No— no I don't.." he can barely hear himself, forcing his voice to come out, hissing when it feels like she's ripping his scalp.

"Of course you don't!" Her face carries a gentle expression, as if she truly forgives him when her pink lips curl into what's supposed to be a loving smile. "You're too fucking dumb to know anything! You stupid little rabbit, you foolish bimbo!"

Her fingers unclasp a clump of his purple hair, yet he doesn't feel relief.

It feels like time stops when her fist collides with his cheek and he feels numb, paused in instinctive shock. He's still standing, odd, because usually he would've crumbled to the ground and cried at her feet to just stopstopstopitcauseshimpainandthisisntwhatboyfriendsandgirlfriendsdo.

"You've been gone for thirteen hours, 38 minutes, and 58 seconds." She speaks so analytically, she really was counting huh. Her pink eyes dart to her watch. "Now 39 minutes."

Hitoshi can't find it in himself to muster words, his legs feel like spaghetti noodles, and his veins feel like their draining of blood.

"Where even where you huh?" She mocks, "you didn't tell me shit! Going around, must've been cheating huh?"

"N-no babe, I wasn't—" he can feel himself bite into the inside of his mouth, her fingers pushing into his jaw threateningly.

"I didn't tell you to fucking talk. And don't call me 'babe', it feels disgusting coming out of your mouth."

It's silent for a few moments, as Hitoshi nods. Her grin splits wider as if amused, before petting him and pulling him down into the crook of her neck, hands caressing the back of his throat.

"I didn't mean that love," she mumbled. "I was so worried for you! You didn't even send me a text or anything!"

It's because you hurt me so bad that I couldn't even type on my phone, because my fingers couldn't stop shaking and you passed out midway through strangling me half to death.

"I.. I'm really sorry," Hitoshi musters, "I was so tired and forgot.."

"Then don't forget next time."

She pulls away from him, an eerie expression on her as she stared into his eyes.

"Don't forget," her hands snake up to his neck, thumbnail stabbing right next to his pulse. "Because I don't need to be drunk to finish the job, Hitoshi."

He can't breath, can't speak; so he nods.

"Don't pull that shit with me again, I was very unhappy you know that?"

Hitoshi can't swallow his breath, can't swallow his saliva because why is she tightening her grip it hurts ithurtsithurtsithurtsplease let go.

Then, she lets go.

"Whatever it's not like you cared, since you so easily went off to find another bitch to kiss."

"I-I didn't!" He's surprised when he can't even hear his voice.

"Well I don't fucking believe you, Hitoshi."

Her face remains cold, then melts into a joyous smile with loving eyes. It invites warmth, invites joy and love.

"Do you know what you will do in order to earn my forgiveness?"

It's teasing, poking fun at his starved body.

"No." His fingers shake, lips afraid to tremble and eyes wide with fear. "Please tell me."

Her hands wrap around his larger ones, bending over slightly like an excited girl on a date, lips tucked into a smile as she pulls him close.

"House arrest and no food," he knows she's lying when she pretends to think about the days. "6 days."

Hitoshi doesn't try to refuse, because that will only earn him more days going hungry. So she grows excited when he becomes compliant, tightening her grip on his hands menacingly.

"Good boy." Her eyes stare into his, "very good boy."

Hitoshi hates going home.