Miscalculation -HiruMamo-
She was gone.
She was fucking gone.
There was something about the thought that left him both numb and angry.
But he wasn’t sad.
It wasn’t like they’d promised to be together forever or anything, nor was it a particularly dramatic close to their ‘relationship’. She went to study in America and he…
…he was where he’d always been, at least where he’d been before American Football, he was just looking for an interesting way to pass the time.
But she was gone.
He knew he had to be angry because somewhere along the line he’d gone and wrecked his apartment in blind rage, he knew it was related to her leaving because the entire time all he’d been thinking was that the bitch fucking left.
He knew he was numb because he hadn’t been at all perturbed when she’d left. He was numb because all other emotions felt dulled… almost untraceable.
But he knew he wasn’t sad.
Because he hadn’t broken down once. His life continued as it always had, she wasn’t a necessary thing in his life.
She wasn’t necessary for him to keep breathing.
So he didn’t miss her. Not at all.
He was just numb and angry.
Because he knew that he was angry and he knew he was numb and he knew himself very well. He’d spent years of his childhood merely grasping complete emotional control over himself; he knew what he was feeling because he could easily choose to not feel something.
And he wasn’t sad.
And he didn’t miss her.
And days passed without meaning. He attended college. He got a job. He met with friends.
And he didn’t think about her because he didn’t need to. She was unnecessary.
He didn’t care when Sena would inform them that he’d gotten a letter of Mamori-neesan. Nor did he care what the letters said. He didn’t care when she talked about her day to day life and he’d hardly even bat an eyelash when she declared that she’d met a nice boy
She wasn’t necessary in his life. He was living life fine without her presence.
He didn’t miss her.
It was only on his twenty-third birthday that something contradicted this fact.
A horrible, terrible thought that had sent him into hysterical laughter, if he was the type of person to have a birthday party(or inform his friends when his birthday was) the party guests would have likely run for the hills.
Because it wasn’t a ‘Hiruma’ laugh.
It was an ironic and bitter laugh. The type that would send chills down your spine.
He’d been going about his day to day life, his thoughts(easily) free of her presence when he noticed a long old calculation of his to be faulty.
It was nothing important and it had no relevance to anything that would happen in the future. It was just a folder on his computer that held a few stupid miscalculations.
It frustrated him a little but he was never one to cry over spilt milk. Shit happened and he didn’t have time to deal with it.
Still, he did go out of his way to find the source of his ‘miscalculation’. With an only slightly aggravated sigh, he set to work, a brief and seemingly meaningless pondering crossing his mind, ‘What was I thinking?’
He didn’t expect to get an answer.
‘My leg doesn’t hurt.’
‘I don’t give a crap either way.’
‘I don’t need help.’
‘I don’t feel emotion.’
‘I’m perfectly fine without having to deal with people.’
“I don’t need her.”
Youichi’s fingers were frozen on the keyboard and for all the prompting in the world he couldn’t move them. The familiar voice of his thoughts prompted him to move, shrugging off the thoughts.
‘They’re just random memories, nothing relevant to today or even tomorrow.’
But he didn’t move. His breath had caught in his throat and one last thought penetrated his mind.
‘I don’t miss her.’
How many times had he told himself that…?
The laughter had begun as a slight chuckle and then moved to a harsher laugh, almost angry sounding.
“…fucking lies.” He laughed, hardly taking a breath.
“I’ve been feeding myself fucking lies!”
This was when his laughter grew hysterical; uncontrollable. His laptop hit the ground and he couldn’t bring himself to care.
He wasn’t relieved. He didn’t know what he felt.
He’d never known what he felt.
He had no idea when it’d started and he didn’t honestly care. Thoughts he’d never bothered with.
He always aimed for a goal and gave himself the emotion necessary for the time.
It felt… oddly empty.
And that made him laugh harder.
It had taken some time before he stopped. A hand rest over his eyes and the other lay limply at his side while he leaned back in his chair, half wondering whether or not he should pick up his laptop.
‘My jackets in the kitchen.’
He couldn’t fathom why the thought had crossed his mind.
‘…keys are next to the alarm clock.’
His limp hand twitched.
‘…cell phone is on the bed.’
He felt adrenaline coming to him and he couldn’t fathom why(a spare bitter thought remarked that with his innate ‘talent’ for knowing his own emotions it’d be impossible to know why).
‘…wallets next to my fucking laptop.’
A grin started to grow on his face instinctually; it was how he expressed determination.
‘Extortion notebooks in my pants pocket.’
And he started moving without thinking. It didn’t matter where he was going.
Within seconds he had all necessary items and his apartment door slammed behind him as he made a mad dash down the stairs of the living complex(an elevator would take too long and he needed to kill some excess energy anyway). He barely registered his surroundings when he reached the bottom floor.
He didn’t know nor care where he was going.
‘Airport.’
His car peeled out of the parking lot not long after.
---
Anezaki Mamori smiled warmly as she made her way across campus to get to her first class. For unexplainable reasons she’d woken up in a wonderful mood(she figured she’d probably had a good dream-though she couldn’t recall what about), it was (thankfully) Wednesday so she didn’t have any very early classes(not that she minded waking up early, she just didn’t like spending her mornings in a classroom) so she’d extra time that morning to relax before going to school and even than she’d had the spare time to stop and talk to an acquaintance from last semester.
It was a good day.
She just knew it.
‘The only thing that could make it better is if I hadn’t forgotten my pencil.’ She gave a slightly amused smile; an unfortunate mishap of a relaxed morning was her obnoxious habit of forgetting her pencil. It wasn’t anything big though(though slightly irking), the girl that sat next to her in English(her first class of the day) always had a pencil to spare.
(though it did make her feel a little guilty to borrow it)
Mood not dampened in the least by these thoughts she continued her brisk walk to class, the faint smell of gunpowder reaching her nostrils.
‘Stupid Hiruma-kun… how many times do I have to tell him not to bring a gun to school?!’
It took her a bit for that thought to fully register in her mind.
‘…wait…’
Mamori whirled around, half expecting to see the devil himself behind her, dressed in a way that would make Rambo jealous.
She didn’t see anyone of note.
(she completely failed to see one squeamish looking student running past her with a look of terror on his face, she was, after all used to that sort of thing due to her high school life)
‘What am I thinking…?’ Mamori’s shoulders oddly slumped as she continued to stare at the students milling about(she finally noticed the boy running for his life but she figured he was late for a test), ‘Why would Hiruma-kun be here?’
There was no logical reason.
He hadn’t even contacted her since she moved to the states.
She sighed, she probably completely imagined it-she dared not fathom why- and with a slightly less cheerful demeanor she turned around and continued heading for class; she was going to be late if she just kept staring into space.
‘…what if he’s really here though?’
Her heart jumped into her throat.
One last scan of the area behind her proved that no one of relevance was near.
When did she start thinking that her fellow students were of little relevance? She sighed; it was stupid Hiruma-kuns’s fault. He always made her think weird things.
With another sigh she shook her head at her own stupidity. This was stupid and pointless.
The familiar sent of gunpowder reached and she waved it off, eyes furrowed in annoyance as she glared at the ground in front of her.
Stupid Hiruma-kun. Stupid gunpowder. Stupid morning. Stupid class…
A persistent voice in the back of her head inquired about where the gunpowder was coming from but she pushed it off(she’d swear it was just mocking her for her stupid-stupid mistake) and continued on her way.
A few more terrified students ran past her but she ignored them pointedly, she didn’t have time to think about something so trivial.
(she’d swear they were mocking her too, impersonating the Deimon student body like that)
Trudging forward without a logical thought penetrating her brain(or maybe she was just trying to push away logical explanations) Mamori purposely shoved all thought of Hiruma Youichi to the back of her mind. With a calming breath she managed to just barely forget she ever thought the jerk was here.
‘Now… what was my first clas-?’
“Oi, fucking manager!”
Mamori’s body froze.
And suddenly everything clicked into place.
Omake:
Sage Orzechowski never knew what he did to deserve a fate like this(okay, maybe he had a few guesses but he wasn’t about to admit to any of them) currently the most terrifying man he had ever seen in his life had him pushed up against a wall with a gun to his temple.
“Where is Anezaki Mamori?”
Sometimes(not often) Sage was very grateful for the amount of Japanese that had been shoved down his throat by his(very bossy) mother(something about his heritage, etc. which he never understood because he was more Polish than Japanese), right now was one of those rare times.
“Who?” unfortunately that didn’t help him in figuring out who the terrifying man was looking for(man did he feel sorry for them though).
The demonic man’s eye twitched and Sage knew he was done for.
Instead, however, Sage found himself thrown to the side as the demonic man looked for a new target.
Not wasting a second, Sage made a run for his life, barely noticing as he passed one fairly familiar girl in his mad dash(she was in his Math class, name was Minori or something…).
She was fucking gone.
There was something about the thought that left him both numb and angry.
But he wasn’t sad.
It wasn’t like they’d promised to be together forever or anything, nor was it a particularly dramatic close to their ‘relationship’. She went to study in America and he…
…he was where he’d always been, at least where he’d been before American Football, he was just looking for an interesting way to pass the time.
But she was gone.
He knew he had to be angry because somewhere along the line he’d gone and wrecked his apartment in blind rage, he knew it was related to her leaving because the entire time all he’d been thinking was that the bitch fucking left.
He knew he was numb because he hadn’t been at all perturbed when she’d left. He was numb because all other emotions felt dulled… almost untraceable.
But he knew he wasn’t sad.
Because he hadn’t broken down once. His life continued as it always had, she wasn’t a necessary thing in his life.
She wasn’t necessary for him to keep breathing.
So he didn’t miss her. Not at all.
He was just numb and angry.
Because he knew that he was angry and he knew he was numb and he knew himself very well. He’d spent years of his childhood merely grasping complete emotional control over himself; he knew what he was feeling because he could easily choose to not feel something.
And he wasn’t sad.
And he didn’t miss her.
And days passed without meaning. He attended college. He got a job. He met with friends.
And he didn’t think about her because he didn’t need to. She was unnecessary.
He didn’t care when Sena would inform them that he’d gotten a letter of Mamori-neesan. Nor did he care what the letters said. He didn’t care when she talked about her day to day life and he’d hardly even bat an eyelash when she declared that she’d met a nice boy
She wasn’t necessary in his life. He was living life fine without her presence.
He didn’t miss her.
It was only on his twenty-third birthday that something contradicted this fact.
A horrible, terrible thought that had sent him into hysterical laughter, if he was the type of person to have a birthday party(or inform his friends when his birthday was) the party guests would have likely run for the hills.
Because it wasn’t a ‘Hiruma’ laugh.
It was an ironic and bitter laugh. The type that would send chills down your spine.
He’d been going about his day to day life, his thoughts(easily) free of her presence when he noticed a long old calculation of his to be faulty.
It was nothing important and it had no relevance to anything that would happen in the future. It was just a folder on his computer that held a few stupid miscalculations.
It frustrated him a little but he was never one to cry over spilt milk. Shit happened and he didn’t have time to deal with it.
Still, he did go out of his way to find the source of his ‘miscalculation’. With an only slightly aggravated sigh, he set to work, a brief and seemingly meaningless pondering crossing his mind, ‘What was I thinking?’
He didn’t expect to get an answer.
‘My leg doesn’t hurt.’
‘I don’t give a crap either way.’
‘I don’t need help.’
‘I don’t feel emotion.’
‘I’m perfectly fine without having to deal with people.’
“I don’t need her.”
Youichi’s fingers were frozen on the keyboard and for all the prompting in the world he couldn’t move them. The familiar voice of his thoughts prompted him to move, shrugging off the thoughts.
‘They’re just random memories, nothing relevant to today or even tomorrow.’
But he didn’t move. His breath had caught in his throat and one last thought penetrated his mind.
‘I don’t miss her.’
How many times had he told himself that…?
The laughter had begun as a slight chuckle and then moved to a harsher laugh, almost angry sounding.
“…fucking lies.” He laughed, hardly taking a breath.
“I’ve been feeding myself fucking lies!”
This was when his laughter grew hysterical; uncontrollable. His laptop hit the ground and he couldn’t bring himself to care.
He wasn’t relieved. He didn’t know what he felt.
He’d never known what he felt.
He had no idea when it’d started and he didn’t honestly care. Thoughts he’d never bothered with.
He always aimed for a goal and gave himself the emotion necessary for the time.
It felt… oddly empty.
And that made him laugh harder.
It had taken some time before he stopped. A hand rest over his eyes and the other lay limply at his side while he leaned back in his chair, half wondering whether or not he should pick up his laptop.
‘My jackets in the kitchen.’
He couldn’t fathom why the thought had crossed his mind.
‘…keys are next to the alarm clock.’
His limp hand twitched.
‘…cell phone is on the bed.’
He felt adrenaline coming to him and he couldn’t fathom why(a spare bitter thought remarked that with his innate ‘talent’ for knowing his own emotions it’d be impossible to know why).
‘…wallets next to my fucking laptop.’
A grin started to grow on his face instinctually; it was how he expressed determination.
‘Extortion notebooks in my pants pocket.’
And he started moving without thinking. It didn’t matter where he was going.
Within seconds he had all necessary items and his apartment door slammed behind him as he made a mad dash down the stairs of the living complex(an elevator would take too long and he needed to kill some excess energy anyway). He barely registered his surroundings when he reached the bottom floor.
He didn’t know nor care where he was going.
‘Airport.’
His car peeled out of the parking lot not long after.
---
Anezaki Mamori smiled warmly as she made her way across campus to get to her first class. For unexplainable reasons she’d woken up in a wonderful mood(she figured she’d probably had a good dream-though she couldn’t recall what about), it was (thankfully) Wednesday so she didn’t have any very early classes(not that she minded waking up early, she just didn’t like spending her mornings in a classroom) so she’d extra time that morning to relax before going to school and even than she’d had the spare time to stop and talk to an acquaintance from last semester.
It was a good day.
She just knew it.
‘The only thing that could make it better is if I hadn’t forgotten my pencil.’ She gave a slightly amused smile; an unfortunate mishap of a relaxed morning was her obnoxious habit of forgetting her pencil. It wasn’t anything big though(though slightly irking), the girl that sat next to her in English(her first class of the day) always had a pencil to spare.
(though it did make her feel a little guilty to borrow it)
Mood not dampened in the least by these thoughts she continued her brisk walk to class, the faint smell of gunpowder reaching her nostrils.
‘Stupid Hiruma-kun… how many times do I have to tell him not to bring a gun to school?!’
It took her a bit for that thought to fully register in her mind.
‘…wait…’
Mamori whirled around, half expecting to see the devil himself behind her, dressed in a way that would make Rambo jealous.
She didn’t see anyone of note.
(she completely failed to see one squeamish looking student running past her with a look of terror on his face, she was, after all used to that sort of thing due to her high school life)
‘What am I thinking…?’ Mamori’s shoulders oddly slumped as she continued to stare at the students milling about(she finally noticed the boy running for his life but she figured he was late for a test), ‘Why would Hiruma-kun be here?’
There was no logical reason.
He hadn’t even contacted her since she moved to the states.
She sighed, she probably completely imagined it-she dared not fathom why- and with a slightly less cheerful demeanor she turned around and continued heading for class; she was going to be late if she just kept staring into space.
‘…what if he’s really here though?’
Her heart jumped into her throat.
One last scan of the area behind her proved that no one of relevance was near.
When did she start thinking that her fellow students were of little relevance? She sighed; it was stupid Hiruma-kuns’s fault. He always made her think weird things.
With another sigh she shook her head at her own stupidity. This was stupid and pointless.
The familiar sent of gunpowder reached and she waved it off, eyes furrowed in annoyance as she glared at the ground in front of her.
Stupid Hiruma-kun. Stupid gunpowder. Stupid morning. Stupid class…
A persistent voice in the back of her head inquired about where the gunpowder was coming from but she pushed it off(she’d swear it was just mocking her for her stupid-stupid mistake) and continued on her way.
A few more terrified students ran past her but she ignored them pointedly, she didn’t have time to think about something so trivial.
(she’d swear they were mocking her too, impersonating the Deimon student body like that)
Trudging forward without a logical thought penetrating her brain(or maybe she was just trying to push away logical explanations) Mamori purposely shoved all thought of Hiruma Youichi to the back of her mind. With a calming breath she managed to just barely forget she ever thought the jerk was here.
‘Now… what was my first clas-?’
“Oi, fucking manager!”
Mamori’s body froze.
And suddenly everything clicked into place.
Omake:
Sage Orzechowski never knew what he did to deserve a fate like this(okay, maybe he had a few guesses but he wasn’t about to admit to any of them) currently the most terrifying man he had ever seen in his life had him pushed up against a wall with a gun to his temple.
“Where is Anezaki Mamori?”
Sometimes(not often) Sage was very grateful for the amount of Japanese that had been shoved down his throat by his(very bossy) mother(something about his heritage, etc. which he never understood because he was more Polish than Japanese), right now was one of those rare times.
“Who?” unfortunately that didn’t help him in figuring out who the terrifying man was looking for(man did he feel sorry for them though).
The demonic man’s eye twitched and Sage knew he was done for.
Instead, however, Sage found himself thrown to the side as the demonic man looked for a new target.
Not wasting a second, Sage made a run for his life, barely noticing as he passed one fairly familiar girl in his mad dash(she was in his Math class, name was Minori or something…).