"A manipulative mind is a puppeteer's secret, pulling strings unseen." -----------------------------------------------
The sun lazily filtered through the curtains as I stirred awake. It was Saturday, a rare day off from school and my usual obligations. I stretched, enjoying the luxury of lingering in bed a little longer.
With a sigh, I finally pulled myself out of bed. My thoughts drifted to the events of the previous day, to Taro and the role he was destined to play in my grand design.
But for now, it was time to tend to more immediate matters.
I headed down the hallway, my footsteps soft on the plush carpet. The living room was my next destination; I craved a glass of water to clear the remnants of sleep from my mind.
However, as I reached the living room door and pushed it open, my groggy stupor was abruptly shattered.
There, in the dim light, stood Taro, clutching one of my cigarettes between trembling fingers.
He was desperately trying to light it, but his attempts were comically futile.
The cigarette remained unlit, and his coughing fit erupted into a fit of splutters.
"What the hell are you doing?" I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended.
Taro jumped, his eyes widening with guilt as he hastily hid the half-lit cigarette behind his back. "N-nothing! Just, um, checking something."
I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by his flimsy excuse.
With a swift movement, I snatched the cigarette from his hand, my tone icy. "Checking something, huh? I think I'll be the judge of that."
Taro's retort died on his lips as I leveled a withering glare at him. It was a look that could freeze molten lava, and it silenced him instantly.
I examined the cigarette with mild annoyance. "You know these aren't toys, right?"
Taro mumbled something unintelligible, his defiant façade crumbling. I could see he was struggling to maintain his tough exterior.
I shook my head, half in exasperation and half in amusement. "People underground may do this all the time, but that doesn't make them any less stubborn dumbasses."
Taro bristled at the insult, his pride clearly wounded. "I can handle it. It's not a big deal."
I couldn't help but chuckle, the sound rich with irony. "Sure, kid. You can handle it. That's what they all say."
Taro's defiant stance wavered as he reluctantly admitted defeat, his shoulders slumping. "Fine, take 'em. Not like they're that great anyway."
I could see the trace of disappointment in his eyes as I pocketed the cigarettes.
But there was something else there, too—an odd mix of admiration and resentment. It was as if he couldn't decide whether to see me as an ally or an adversary.
Not that I care either way.
"Well," I said, trying to ease the tension, "let's get some breakfast. You're going to need it if you plan on surviving the day."
Taro nodded, the momentary tension dissipating. As we headed toward the kitchen, I couldn't help but reflect on the strange dynamic that had formed between us.
He was a puzzle, a piece of the puzzle that was my grand plan, and I was determined to figure out where he fit in.
For now, though, it seemed he would remain a source of unexpected surprises and occasional amusement.
As I prepared breakfast, I couldn't shake the thought that perhaps I was the stubborn dumbass in this equation.
After all, I was the one who had taken him in, despite my initial intentions. But for now, I pushed such thoughts aside.
The world of shadows and secrets beckoned, and I had no intention of letting sentimentality cloud my judgment.
Taro was a pawn, a tool, and I would wield him to my advantage. That much was clear.
As for what lay ahead, well, that remained to be seen.
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After breakfast, I headed to the bathroom to freshen up. The cool water of the shower washed away the last traces of sleep, leaving me feeling revitalized.
I wrapped a towel around my waist and stood before the mirror.
My reflection stared back at me—a testament to the symmetry of my features, the chiseled lines of my jaw, and the sliver of moonlight adorning my earrings.
To many, it would be a sight to admire, a source of confidence. But for me, it was a reminder.
A reminder of the blood that flowed through my veins, a legacy of beauty from a man I despised.
My father had been a coward, a man who had prioritized his own desires over everything else.
And here I was, bearing the undeniable proof of his existence in every line of my face.
I couldn't escape the reality of my lineage, no matter how much I tried to distance myself from it.
But I had learned long ago that beauty was a double-edged sword—one that could be used as a weapon, a tool, or a shield.
I dressed in my gym attire, the fabric clinging to the lean, sculpted form of my body. As I examined myself in the mirror, I couldn't deny the allure of my own reflection.
But I refused to let it define me. My beauty was just another facet of who I was, and I would wield it as I saw fit.
With a final glance in the mirror, I turned away, my thoughts focused on the tasks that lay ahead.
The world outside was a battlefield, and I was prepared to navigate its treacherous terrain with all the tools at my disposal.
My beauty was a part of me, but it did not define me. I was Ayato Kirishima, a force to be reckoned with, and I would stop at nothing to achieve my ambitions.
Cool and composed, I left the bathroom, ready to face whatever challenges the day had in store.
As I prepared to head out to the gym, I noticed Taro watching me intently. His gaze was filled with curiosity, and it seemed like he had something on his mind.
"What's on your mind?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Taro hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Are you going to train?"
I nodded. "Yeah, it's part of my routine. I need to finish my weekly quota."
Taro's eyes lit up, and he took a step closer. "Can I come with you?"
I contemplated Taro's request for a moment. On the surface, it seemed like a simple offer to let him tag along to the gym.
However, I couldn't deny that a thought had crossed my mind – having a healthier and more disciplined Taro could potentially be a useful tool in the future.
"Alright, you can come," I agreed, my tone casual. "But remember, you'll have to keep up with me. I'm not exactly what you'd call, normal." Unfortunately.
Taro's face lit up with gratitude, but I could see a hint of determination in his eyes. (A/N Poor boy doesn't know what's coming..)
As we left the apartment, I couldn't help but think about the possibilities.
If I could mold him into a more disciplined and dependable asset, it could serve my purposes well.
My mind raced with plans and strategies, as I continued to play the role of the cool and composed mentor.
Little did Taro know that this trip to the gym was just the beginning of a much larger game – one where he would become a pawn in my intricate web of manipulation and ambition.
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As we stood in the gym, Taro was clearly exhausted. He panted heavily, sweat dripping from his brow, and his legs wobbled with each step.
I couldn't help but smirk at his struggle, a stark contrast to my own composed demeanor.
"You... are... a monster," Taro huffed between breaths, his words punctuated by gasps for air.
I nearly chuckled, not bothering to hide my amusement. "Oh, come on, you're just out of shape. It's not that bad."
Taro shot me a glare that could have melted steel. "Easy for you to say. You're not even sweating."
I glanced down at my perfectly dry gym wear, untouched by even a drop of sweat. "Well, some of us are just naturally gifted."
Taro let out an exasperated sigh, which turned into a coughing fit. He waved a shaky finger at me. "You... you're not human. You're a gym robot in disguise."
I burst into laughter, unable to contain it any longer. "A gym robot? That's a new one, Taro. You've got quite the imagination."
Taro scowled but didn't have the energy to continue the banter. Instead, he trudged on, muttering curses under his breath, while I continued to chuckle at his expense.
The workout had left my muscles pleasantly sore, and I decided it was time to grab some refreshments.
The gym's refreshment area was just a few steps away, and I had my sights set on a nice, cold bottle of water.
As I reached the vending machine, I noticed the fridge stocked with an array of drinks.
My gaze zeroed in on the last water bottle, the one that promised to quench my thirst perfectly. I reached out to grab it, my fingers inches away from the refreshing prize.
But just as my hand closed around the bottle, someone else's hand appeared out of nowhere, aiming for the very same bottle.
Our hands clashed mid-air, and for a brief, electrifying moment, our eyes locked in an instant.
It was the famous Hoshino Agawa of my school.
'sigh' ..........................Lady luck seriously has something against me.