I entered the quiet classroom. Indeed, for once, this noisy pigsty could actually be quiet, and in the morning, no less. I arrived as the very first, relishing in this 'harmony'—if one could call it that. I loved the tranquility and peace.
But suddenly, I noticed Mafiozi sitting on the windowsill, seemingly... asleep. It was strange that someone like her, who had come early, would take a nap on a simple windowsill. If it were me, I'd have stayed in my warm bed. At first, I hesitated upon seeing her, but then I moved to my desk.
"Good morning," I whispered as I passed by. I hoped she was really asleep because the conversation I wanted to initiate wouldn't end well. Then, I noticed that the brunette had opened her eyes, and they looked like those of a predatory animal preparing to pounce. I flinched. What the...
"Why did you come so early?" she asked, descending from the windowsill and rubbing her eyes. I was surprised. She called me "Carner," albeit mistakenly, but she remembered. Odd.
"Same question goes for you," I mentally responded but held my tongue. Why should I answer to a mafia girl? I began arranging my belongings on the desk. Something in me was itching to say something.
"Why are you helping me?" slipped from my lips. "Why are you on my side?" It might have sounded silly, but this subservience unnerved me. What if, unknowingly, I'd sold my soul to the devil?
The girl rose from the windowsill, her brows furrowed in thought. Then, she arched an eyebrow and spoke.
"Seems you asked me to. If I'm not mistaken, you even wrote down answers in that note you passed."
"True, but I didn't ask you to side with me and announce it to everyone. Now it's drawing too much attention," I exhaled. "And strangely, the Mafia has become so obedient."
"Indeed? How did you expect it to go?" she started to approach, while I retreated. Somehow, I thought keeping a distance would be beneficial. "Luke is quite a character," she continued. "I want to see how he'll fare. You are his target, right? It benefits you too."
In what way did it benefit me? I had a feeling the more she 'protected' me (if that's what you could call it), the more I'd be targeted. Luke would seize the opportunity to get at Mafiozi and eventually turn towards me.
I stuttered, and as I moved backward, nearly stumbled over the chairs. I realized my situation was indeed dire. Why were all these troubles converging on me? Was there some magnet around me attracting all this conflict?
"I didn't ask you to kill Gilbert," I pressed.
"I wanted to kill him," the mafia girl's voice rang cold.
"Why?"
"People like him need to know their place."
"But he could've had a life. He could've turned his life around, found a woman, had children."
"He could've, if he hadn't been so foolish," she cut. "And there's one more thing I wanted to ask." She leaned in, studying me with curiosity. "Why are you stepping back? Are you scared?"
I froze. What a direct question. A surge of anxiety rushed through me. As Mafiozi approached, I unintentionally backed into the chairs. She towered over me, and I grasped her wrist, meeting her gaze. Inside those eyes, I was surprised to see such audacity. Her lips twitched upward.
"Please," I murmured, "please don't tear it off..." She's too precious to me.
The girl's expression shifted from surprise to something else I couldn't quite read. She withdrew her hand, moving away and looking out the window. It was an unexpected response that struck me. Did I do something wrong? Did I upset her?
"I wasn't planning to tear it off," she muttered. Mafiozi turned away from me, her back facing me, and pulled something from her jeans pocket.
"What's this?" I asked, taking what she handed to me.
"What do you think?" She rolled her eyes. "You have a silver chain, so I thought this might suit it better. I'm tired of wearing it," she said, eyeing my reaction. Though it sounded like a flimsy excuse, I took it. "Of course, it's up to you whether you wear it or not. I just thought it might look better on you. I was actually going to throw it away. Take it if you want."
Initially, I was taken aback. It was a chunky, silver ring engraved with the letters "D.M." The inscription meant something, but it didn't matter. I wanted to open my mouth and say something, but I could only manage an astonished sound.
"Thank you," I whispered. Mafiozi smirked and walked to the window. To say I was deeply touched would be an exaggeration. I was just pleased by this small gesture. I didn't know why, but this bit of attention lifted my spirits.
"Come on out, why are you hiding?" the girl's voice came coldly. I raised my eyebrows, looking in her direction.
"What?" I asked, and a shiver ran down my spine.