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The small box sat heavily in his pocket as if it were twice its weight in gold. Okarun fidgeted with it endlessly in the movie theater, turning it over in his fingers as he imagined how he’d give it to Momo.
Okarun wanted to make it clear this was a date. When he’d asked her to see a movie with him after school, she’d said yes right away, but the whole thing was too casual, and felt too much like he was hanging with a friend. What the hell was the difference between a friend hangout and a date night? He had no idea how to turn up the romance. His arm burned for the entire two hours of the movie to reach over and drape it over her shoulders. Of course he was too much of a dork to take any initiative.
So the box in his pocket was the backup plan. He'd give it to her, she'd swoon, and his feelings would be clear. He refused to fumble this again.
“Earth to Okarun? You in there, space cadet?”
“Huh?”
“What flavor do you want?”
“Oh, butter pecan please.”
“Of course you’d like the one with nuts.”
“Shut up! God.”
She wiggled her eyebrows at him and paid for the ice cream since he paid for the movie. He held the cone in his hand, his other deep in his pocket as she smiled at the cashier. The guy was looking at her, his eyes sizing her up with such an obvious up and down sweep that disgust rose like bile up his throat.
Yet Okarun couldn’t fault the guy- Momo was beautiful.
She’d shown up outside the theater with her hair pinned up, showcasing her bright pink heart earrings and her neck, which he tried very hard not to let his eyes wander over. But she wasn’t wearing her usual black choker; it’d been swapped out for a matching chain necklace that hung across her high-collar shirt. He’d never seen this matchup of skirt and leggings, which made him hope that she dressed up just for him, since he had too, going out of his way to iron a button down collared shirt. Her lips glimmered with a pretty pink gloss, and her lashes were thick and long. They were both done up, and if Okarun was feeling bold, he’d admit that they looked good together. He was sure the cashier assumed they were a couple.
So why would he dare look at her like that?
“C’mon, Okarun, I wanna see if we can hit up the park before they shut off the lights.”
They left before he could act on any of his impulses. Momo bit straight into her mint chocolate chip with her teeth like a psychopath, and after making fun of her, he felt a little better.
Walking along the shopping district this late meant most of the restaurants and stores were closed, but streetlights and shopfronts advertising bars and lounges lit up the night in neon streaks of pinks and greens. People huddled in groups outside, smoking cigarettes and laughing. It was busy and bright.
“I’ve never been out this late before,” he confessed, overcome by the commotion, the restlessness in his nerves building towards overstimulation. There was so much noise, the streets stumbling with drunken adults and people hurrying home with briefcases. It was clear they were in a place not made with high schoolers in mind. He caught several signs lit in red banning underaged entry. “It feels like we’re doing something bad.”
“Don’t be nervous,” Momo smiled, and with ease she weaved her arm through his, his posture naturally straightening. “We’re just going on a walk. Nothin’ wrong with that.”
“Yeah, but…”
They passed a loud group of college-aged students outside a rowdy bar. Okarun didn’t miss how three of the men’s eyes lingered on them.
“...I just have a bad feeling.”
They walked a few blocks further. The streets darkened, and the crowds of people thinned. They were both familiar with this part of town, but at night, the shadows that lingered in the corners of alleys and between store signs were threats, not mysteries. He couldn’t focus on Momo's warmth and closeness as they walked side by side. His thoughts of romance and the box had vanished. Momo must’ve noticed too; the silence that fell between them hung in a tense shroud.
The three men were following them. And they were jeering. Fuck.
“Hey, pretty thing. Where are you going?”
“Ditch the kid, come with us. We can get you a beer.”
“You’re way too cute to be out here all dressed up like that.”
Momo scowled in disgust, glaring behind her. “Ignore them, Okarun. They’ll go away eventually.”
It would’ve been enough with just the verbal jabs. Their drunken slurring was mixed with nonsense and bumbling laughter. But Momo responded without an ounce of shock. She seemed used to this.
Okarun was outraged.
“Hey, are you listening? He wouldn’t know what to do with all that ass. C’mon, now.”
He whipped his head around so fast the men startled slightly, then chuckled. He almost couldn’t breathe through his disgust, snarling, his nails lengthening to prepare to claw the tongues out of their mouths.
“Okarun, chill. ” Her big eyes fixed on his and she tugged on his arm, sending a clear message. Don’t do anything.
He was looking down on her now, so he knew he had transformed. The edges of his vision pulsed with red. He took a deep breath in, out. The men were still following them, but the comments had stopped.
“Sorry, Momo.”
“You don’t need to apologize.” Her hate was strong, and it stirred the violence in his chest. He wanted to rip his hair out with the restraint it took not to turn around and say something. “Let’s just keep walking, okay? I don’t wanna let it ruin our night.”
She was now fully clinging to his side. Okarun wasn’t sure if he had changed back, but his anger enveloped him, a suffocating pressure that squeezed the rationale from his thoughts. He wasn’t able to enjoy any of it anymore, not the nightlife or the ice cream, or the privilege of being so close to Momo, because he could only focus on the three men sauntering behind them. They made it to the end of the street in silence, stopping at a crosswalk.
They waited for the light to turn. The plan had been to go to the park, but he didn’t like the idea of leaving a populated area. He could sense Momo’s heartbeat against his arm, giving away her steely exterior to the worry underneath. Okarun watched the taller of the three out of the corner of his eye. The guy’s stare flicked to his, a clear challenge there, and Okarun frowned but turned away. A part of him calmed knowing they surely wouldn’t try anything in front of so many people.
“You okay?” Okarun murmured.
“...Yeah.”
She was right. The night was young, and he could still rescue it. There was still that little box sitting in his pocket…
As the light turned green Okarun heard it; the distinct click of a camera shutter snapping a picture. He turned and saw one of the guys had his phone angled underneath Momo’s skirt.
The world went black, then red.
Okarun lunged forward and grabbed, nails tearing into hair and throwing a body with all his might across asphalt. Seething heat flowed from his rows of sharp teeth, manifesting as toxic black miasma. He could barely see but he could feel the soft flesh as he crushed fingers under his bare feet, could hear the scream of agony and the delicious crunch of bone and glass under his heel.
His arm was yanked and he lost his balance, then a fist crashed into his face, punching straight through his demonic mask. It was a good punch, his ears ringing as he stumbled, but he felt no pain. He sought heat and movement and lusted for the screams of suffering. Okarun bared his teeth like the monster he was and roared, the rage drowning him, poisoning the air as he spat blood, banishing the memories of why he was angry and that he just wanted to gouge the eyes out of the sockets of anyone that even looked at her–
An invisible force slammed his body to the ground, leaving Okarun gasping on his back. His world spun, whirling until it was righted by the sound of his favorite voice in distress. When he blinked his eyes open, Momo was peering down at him, tears pricking the corner of her eyes and the lights of the city haloing her hair.
“Momo…” he gasped, the wind knocked out of him. “You’re so pretty.”
She stared in disbelief. “You idiot. I’ve been yelling at you this whole time and now you can hear me? I had to use my powers to stop you!”
“I was gonna kill him,” he rasped, the back of his head smacking onto the concrete street as he laid there. He catalogued multiple points of injury on his body where he guessed he was hit or punched during his rampage. Most of the bruising seemed to have come from Momo’s attack. “They said those things to you. They tried to take a picture up your skirt.”
“None of that matters, now. We have to go, someone called the cops.”
“The cops? Why?”
“Okarun, you knocked out three guys and stomped all over one’s hand until it looked like a side of fries and ketchup. We’re gonna get arrested or worse if we stick around. Can you use an All Out?”
He sat up in a daze. Momo watched him as if he were going to explode again, but the adrenaline had long since drained from him. Okarun failed to process the crowd of people that huddled nearby at a safe distance, or the faraway shouts of authority getting closer. Okarun stood, stooping to allow her onto his back, and summoned the energy to cut through the air like a whip. He shot forward, directionless, speeding away from the lights of the city and cries of strangers.
He didn’t stop until they were in a place he’d never been before, where the glow of the city was a blaze burning in the background and the breeze was cool and quiet. In front of them was a vending machine with a humble bench overlooking a convenience store by a bridge. It was a serene picture with how still the night was, moths flicking in and out of the spotlight of streetlamps. Momo silently went inside, and when she returned, she carried a bag of disinfectant, bandages, and soda pop.
Okarun was still transformed as he sat on the bench. He was trying very hard not to think, but he couldn't swallow the sour taste of resentment. Momo sat beside him and wordlessly grabbed his hands.
He was surprised to find his knuckles bloodied.
“You didn’t hold back, huh,” she said casually, dousing a piece of cotton in peroxide and routinely swiping at the cuts. Okarun grit his teeth, but he endured it.
“They harassed you,” he ground out, venom dripping in his tone. “They took a picture up your–”
“Well, you turned their phone and their fingers into bits, so we’re probably even.” Her eyes avoided his as she moved to touch his cheek. The moment her fingers brushed his skin, pain shot through his jaw and he flinched. She winced sympathetically. “That’s gonna leave a mark.”
“Are you mad at me, Momo?”
“What gave you that idea.”
Misery crushed him. He took her hand as she reached to bandage his cheek. “Don’t be, please. I can’t stand it.”
“Well, I am! I’m mad that you lost it,” she shouted, throwing her hands up in frustration, a soda can falling from the bag and rolling onto the ground. “I’m pissed that the night was ruined. I could’ve handled it.”
Shock swept through him. “So you would’ve just let them–”
“Are you stupid? Of course not!” Hot anger flushed her cheeks a bright pink, wetness shimmering in her eyes, and Okarun immediately backed off. His transformation dissipated, and when he reached for her, he froze, unable to close the distance.
“Miss Ayase–”
“I was having an amazing time,” she cried, her voice fighting to remain angry through the breaks, reaching to pick up the fallen can. But then she just held it, staring absently across the street towards the bridge. “The movie was great, the ice cream was great, and you were…we were gonna…but then those stupid assholes came, and then…”
The heat in his blood was doused cold as Momo shuddered, her head ducking to hide her face from him. She was right. It was like his common sense went out the window; Momo was more than capable of protecting herself. He should’ve backed her up, comforted her.
The lights finally turned on in his brain. Okarun reached forward and wrapped his arms around her. He ignored the bruises still aching along his arms and chest and pulled her close. It took a moment, but finally, she relaxed, sighing as she set aside the soda and held his arm back.
“I’m sorry,” he said into her hair. “I’m sorry they ruined our date.”
The word ‘date’ was a complete accident. But he meant it, and he felt her tense at the word, so he pulled back to look at her face.
“...Date?” she asked.
“Y-Yes. I…wanted to talk with you about it. Clarifying. I was hoping…I mean, I was wanting it to be…”
“Okarun, shush.”
“Okay.”
“I’m happy you thought it was a date, too.”
Too. Her smile was returning, a soft lift to the corner of her lips that made Okarun want to press his thumb into it, just feel the indent it made in her skin. Her brows rose slightly. She seemed to be expecting something.
Do it now. He shifted, pushing his hand into his pocket and touching the box that thankfully still sat there.
Then he stopped.
“Miss Ayase,” he said under his breath, retracting his hand from his pocket. Instead he took up her hands in his bandaged ones. She waited patiently. Momo did that a lot for him, he noticed. Always waiting for him to catch up on his thoughts and feelings. He didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on his mouth. “I want a do-over.”
“Huh?”
Okarun cleared his throat so he wouldn’t stutter. The warmth in his cheeks radiated through him; she could surely see it. “I want to go on another date,” Okarun said intently. “And it’ll be somewhere nicer. We can do dinner and a movie, maybe at my place. Alone. I just…want to try again.”
He enjoyed the flush that colored her skin. “Alone?”
He nodded, ignoring the implications of what he said, hoping his sincerity of wanting to make this up to her shone through.
Momo bit her lips through her smile as if holding back a full grin, and nodded. “A do-over. Sounds like a deal.”
Okarun smiled, and didn’t let himself hesitate when draping his arm over her shoulders, pulling her into his side for another hug. She tucked against his chest, a perfect fit despite the protest of his bruises. It felt like a promise, a deal sealed with an embrace rather than a handshake, and he meant to keep it.
Next time, he’d give her the box.
“Hey, lovebirds! Go home, it’s a school night!”
The two jumped away from each other at the words shouted from the stranger emerging from the convenience store. Momo growled and shouted at the old man to fuck off as Okarun reined in his anger.
Next time, he’d make sure they were alone.