Chapter 14

Instead of going back to campus, they went to a corner store. After smoking twice in a short period of time, Yurina had gotten the munchies. Wataru let her do as she pleased, watching her scan the aisles for junk food in amusement. He didn't mind stopping since he was also craving snacks. While she filled a basket with whatever she wanted, Wataru perused the store for beer and smokes.

At one point, Yurina walked by him, the plastic basket filled to the brim. He raised his eyebrows in disbelief as he eyed the amount of items. "Jesus Christ, you need all this?"

"But I'm hungry," she whined. He couldn't deny her adorable puppy eyes. It's not like he didn't have the money, but why go spending it on one girl? Still, he relented with a roll of his eye.

As soon as they exited the store, she ripped open a bag of cookies, stuffing two into her mouth greedily. Wataru snorted, finding her appetite entertaining. At least she knew how to enjoy her indulgences, unlike most women. "You might choke if you keep that up," he warned her, taking a large swig from a bottle of cheap vodka he snagged. He could've paid for it if he really wanted to, but what was the harm in a five-finger discount?

"Wataru, why do you have to live so dangerously?" Yurina asked in exasperation. She had noticed what he'd done and thought it was stupid. "You shouldn't drink and drive."

"I do a lot of things I shouldn't, Freshman," he answered sarcastically, giving her a pointed stare. Yurina didn't meet his gaze; instead, she swished more food in her mouth to avoid responding. Wataru decided to let her eat in peace rather than tease her any further. Suddenly, his phone rang obnoxiously loudly from within his pants. Fishing it from his pocket, Wataru checked the caller ID. "Hey, your boyfriend misses you," he said teasingly.

"What?" Yurina squeaked, cookie crumbs flying from her mouth. "Stop being gross!"

He chuckled before answering the call and pressing the cell to his ear; he spoke casually. Yurina thought he may have been talking to Daiya or Shigeru, but that wasn't the case at all. He was just teasing her as usual. "I'm busy right now. Send someone else to do it." Yurina paused mid-chew to listen in on their conversation, but it seemed like he was purposefully avoiding elaborating on certain details, so she couldn't follow along.

Wataru was clearly irritated about something, as evidenced by his hardening expression. His voice became noticeably clipped compared to how relaxed it had previously sounded. "It's not my fucking problem anymore. Show him the way out." With that, he hung up, returning the phone to his pocket before turning to look at Yurina again. "What?"

She shook her head hastily, resuming eating her snacks to distract herself from prying. However, curiosity continued nagging at her relentlessly. How could it not? Despite all their talks, she knew virtually nothing about Wataru besides what was shown on the surface. He drank, smoked, did drugs, stole stuff, and he could sometimes be nice. That didn't paint much of a picture of who he was or where he came from.

"Gotcha an eclair!" Yurina declared, digging in the plastic bag for the pastry. He watched in silent appreciation while she unwrapped the paper surrounding it, her full pink lips puckering cutely as she blew the excess powder off the top before biting into it delicately. "Want a bite?"

"Sure." When Yurina presented it to him, Wataru gripped her slender wrist, tugging it towards him. Leaning closer, he parted his lips, allowing her fingers to press against his tongue as he sunk his teeth into the soft dough. Swallowing thickly, Yurina dropped her hands to her sides, her eyes widening considerably as a blush bloomed across her cheeks. Once Wataru had chewed thoroughly, he released his hold on her arm, licking his own lips appreciatively. "Tastes good," he praised gruffly.

Her face felt unbearably hot, and her heart hammered erratically against her chest, causing her pulse to quicken rapidly. Unsure how else to react, Yurina shoved the chunk of bread between her lips to distract herself. An action Wataru mirrored by tipping his alcohol bottle upwards again, savoring its bitter flavor.

"Who were you talking to earlier?"

Wataru stiffened visibly. For a moment, he contemplated whether or not to divulge personal information about himself. But ultimately, she decided against doing so; after all, they weren't exactly emotionally close. "None of your business." With that curt reply delivered, he gulped another mouthful of his drink. He threw the bottle into the gutter carelessly afterward. "Get on." Wataru mounted the motorcycle, motioning for her to climb on behind him.

Yurina pouted slightly but ultimately chose not to question him further—she wasn't willing to push her luck by pressing him about things he obviously didn't want to share. So, instead, she settled onto the bike seat behind him and wrapped her slender arms securely around his torso as instructed. "Don't kill us. Please." Her request came out softer than anticipated due to nervousness. Not only because she feared riding without helmets again, but also because of the vodka he just drank.

"I'm basically sober," he protested mockingly as he revved the engine, casting a sidelong glance in her direction, silently daring her to comment again. Yurina didn't take the bait—merely tightened her grip on his waist. With one final smirk tossed over his broad shoulder, Wataru pulled onto the road and sped towards the campus.

Not only did he drop her off in front of her dorm building, but he also had enough compassion to walk her inside and see her room safely. Though truthfully, his actions probably stemmed solely from boredom rather than altruism. Regardless, Yurina appreciated his company either way. She tried fiddling with the lock for a few seconds before huffing impatiently, evidently forgetting her keys elsewhere again.

"Damn it..." She muttered under her breath.

He arched an eyebrow expectantly. "You left the key and the key card? Nice."

"Oh, shut up," she snapped halfheartedly, turning to face him fully with arms crossed sternly across her chest. A small chuckle rumbled forth from deep within his throat.

Without further ado, Wataru stepped nearer—so close that they nearly bumped noses—and slipped past her effortlessly. Reaching into his jeans pockets for his trusty switchblade, he flicked open its sharp edge expertly using nothing more than muscle memory alone. "Are you seriously about to break into my room?" Yurina hissed in alarm.

"There's a term called criminal trespass. You could be fined 100k or have three years of prison time," Wataru drawled lazily as he skillfully jiggled the knob with his knife. Within moments, the click indicated success. He twisted open the door triumphantly, gesturing grandly within like he owned it. "But hey, that's not the worst thing you could get caught doing. You did smoke weed. That's a misdemeanor. Or you could get caught doing ecstasy—which would earn you at least six months of jail time. Wouldn't look too good for a future lawyer, huh?" He shut the door behind them.

"I don't remember inviting you inside," she remarked irritably.

"I invited myself. Perks of being able to pick locks. Consider it payment." He headed to her bed and made himself comfortable atop it. The springs groaned underneath his weight, protesting loudly enough that Yurina wondered briefly if perhaps they weren't strong enough to support his muscular frame after all. Stretching languidly like a lazy feline might upon waking up from its afternoon nap, Wataru gave a satisfied sigh before propping himself comfortably against her pillows. "Nice place," he complimented mockingly, his tone dripping sarcasm despite his sincere delivery. "Cozy."

Yurina sighed and crossed her arms. "Look, I'll admit, I had fun. But don't get too comfortable, okay?"

He was already snoring softly, ignoring her protests entirely as he slept peacefully on the mattress provided courtesy of their college housing department. A small vein throbbed angrily in her temple; clearly, this guy wouldn't be budging anytime soon, regardless of how vehemently she demanded otherwise. Plus, with the exhaustion settling in her bones thanks to the stressors today brought, Yurina lacked the energy to argue her point any longer anyway. There was no telling when Serena would return—if ever tonight at all, given the circumstances of her discovering them mid-intimacy hours prior.

"Fine. A nap sounds nice, anyway."