Yoko ran to the convenience store, bought a bottle of disinfectant, and happily headed back home. With just this, she believed she could solve the issue. Her experience in independent living was quite rich, and she could wipe the ceiling thoroughly with a stick and a piece of cloth.
She ran with the plastic bottle, hugging the side of the road, looking around vigilantly. Toratoro faithfully followed her, guarding closely at her feet. However, when they turned into a small alley, they encountered a group of boys in their early teens, carrying baseball bats and gloves. They were playing around, seemingly looking for another place to play baseball due to the increasing wind.
Yoko hesitated for a moment, pretending not to see them, lowered her head, and ran faster. Just as she was about to pass them, she heard someone call out, "Hey, isn't it Shiraishi, that wild kid?"
Toratoro stopped for a moment, curious about the sound, but Yoko quietly said, "Toratoro, don't stop. Run!"
Seeing Yoko running even faster, it hurriedly truned over and continued following, tail between his legs. The boys catching up were intrigued and blocked her way, and one of them joked, "Hey, Shiraishi, why are you running? Didn't you go trash picking today?"
Yoko was blocked, and with her back against the wall, she surveyed the surroundings. She whispered, "I'm not picking trash anymore. Um... I'm sorry, seniors, please let me through. I need to go home."
She tried to leave by the wall, but these boys with nothing better to do refused to let her pass. One of them with crew cut, curiously asked, "What's that you're holding?"
Yoko lowered her head and replied, not wanting to provoke these street kids too much. "It's disinfectant for my home. My family needs it... Sorry, can I go now?"
"Disinfectant?" The group of boys was instantly disappointed. They thought Yoko was carrying something rare or valuable, but it turned out to be just toilet cleaning supplies. The crew-cut one seemed a bit skeptical and reached out to take a closer look, "Disinfectant? Is it for your mom?"
As he finished speaking, his companions burst into laughter, and one of them shouted jokingly, "Let her go quickly, Kameda, don't make your dad late!"
Kameda turned around and scolded, "Nonsense! Your dad is the one who's being fooled! Last time, I saw him hugging her mom in front of the station!"
He wanted to grab the bottle of disinfectant, but when he tried to pull it away, it didn't budge. Looking at Yoko holding it tightly, he got a bit angry. She bit her lip tightly, her face pale, but didn't let go because she didn't have money to buy another bottle.
"Give me!" Kameda pushed her and tried to forcefully take the bottle. The other boys around didn't see it as a big deal, just considering it teasing a little girl. They started making playful remarks to Yoko:
"Trash girl, are you learning your mom's job?"
"How much for a night when you grow up?"
"Do we get a discount if we go?"
Yoko didn't dare to argue back, just huddled against the wall, unwilling to hand the disinfectant to Kameda. Such incidents were common: these street boys in this area enjoyed bullying the weak. She even witnessed them pouring oil and burning stray cats in the park just because they were bored.
She whispered, pleading, "Seniors, it is really just disinfectant."
Kameda got angrier, and he raised the baseball bat to intimidate her, "Give me! Do you want a beating?" He began to doubt if this was indeed disinfectant or something valuable.
Yoko's frail body was pushed hard against the wall and her tears nearly rolled down from the pain. Toratoro, who was originally crouched behind her, suddenly jumped out, arching his body, growling threateningly to protecte its master.
But it was just four or five months old and far from being a fierce fighting dog breed. Not only did it lack combat abilities, but it also lacked any intimidating presence. Kameda glanced down at it and kicked it with a foot, causing it to somersault. He laughed and swung the baseball bat, "Is this your dog? So rude. Let me teach it some manners!"
Yoko couldn't endure it any longer. She charged toward Kameda, knocking him aside and saving Toratoro. She yelled at him, "Run, Toratoro!"
Kameda didn't expect Yoko to resist. He was caught off guard and almost knocked down. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, especially when hearing the mocking laughter from other boys, he cursed and kicked Yoko hard in the stomach. He then raised the baseball bat, ready to give her a severe blow.
This wild child didn't have a dad, so if she got beaten, it wouldn't matter. Toratoro, usually very obedient, refused to obey this time. Instead of running away, he turned bloodshot eyes toward Kameda and barked fiercely, rushing up to bite his trouser leg and tearing at it desperately. This unexpected reaction caused Kameda to panic and struggle to free himself from the dog's grip.
The boys behind Kameda laughed even harder, showing no intention of helping. Instead, they stood there enjoying the spectacle, and began mocking Kameda. Kameda was furious, shaking his leg to throw Toratoro off. He caught up and kicked him hard after shaking it off, causing Toratoro to whimper and roll several times.
He was unsatisfied with the kick and felt he lost face. So he continued pursuing, intending to stomp on Toratoro. However, a splash of blue liquid suddenly struck his face, causing him to cover his eyes in pain. He screamed louder than Toratoro.
"Toratoro, are you okay?" Yoko rushed to Toratoro's side, tears streaming down her face. She snatched Kameda's baseball bat and swung it at the others, shouting, "Back off! Back off!"
As for Kameda, with his eyes stinging from the disinfectant, he thought he might not see anything. He reached out blindly in panic and happened to grab Yoko. Yoko turned around and swung the baseball bat at his head, making it bleeding
The street kids who were used to bullying and teasing were astonished. They never expected the situation to escalate like this. Seeing Yoko seemingly gone mad, wielding a bloodied baseball bat and ready to fight for her life, they hesitated. Bullying the weak was entertaining, but risking their lives was another matter. Kameda was not their close associate, at most they played together. It wasn't worth getting hit for him.
Yoko faced off against them for a moment. Realizing that she was no match for them and seeing the increasingly hostile looks, she screamed once more, threw the baseball bat at them, and grabbed Toratoro and the bottle before running away.
The group of street kids watched as Yoko ran off and looked at Kameda still lying on the ground, bleeding from his head. They hesitated and finally decided not to chase her. Instead they lifted Kameda, and headed to the clinic.
Yoko ran all the way back to the apartment, fumbled with the key, and took several attempts to unlock Kazuya's room. Once inside, she locked the door, embraced Toratoro and the disinfectant, and burst into tears.
Toratoro licked away her tears, let out a soft "woof". Yoko wiped her tears away and checked Toratoro's body. With a runny nose, she asked, "Will you die, Toratoro? I'm sorry. I couldn't protect you. I'm really sorry!"
Toratoro struggled to leave Yoko's embrace. It limped a few steps, turned around and revealed a fawning smile.
Yoko hastily rushed up and hugged it again, stroking its four short legs. Feeling that they weren't broken and checking its dog mouth not bleeding, she breathed a sigh of relief but still placed Toratoro in the cardboard, "It hurts a lot, right? Take a rest."
Toratoro licked her hand, lying obediently in the cardboard. However, it showed no signs of sleeping, keeping its eyes fixed on Yoko, seeming quite worried.
Yoko stood up, lifted her shirt and looked down. There was a small bruise on her lower abdomen. It hurt, but it didn't seem like a severe injury. Looking at the half-footprint on her clothes, she quickly washed it off.
She washed off the dirty areas and dried them with a towel. Then, she gently rubbed the corners of her eyes in front of the mirror to prevent them from becoming red and swollen later. After finishing, she glanced at Toratoro and noticed that it didn't show any signs of mental weakness. She finally felt relieved and turned to the doorway to retrieve the bottle of disinfectant, but it only had about one-fifth of the original amount left.
Feeling saddened for a moment, she carefully mixed water and grabbed a scrubbing brush and a cloth. Then, she began to sniffle as she wiped the ceiling.
The wind outside gradually intensified, and strange howling sounds occasionally echoed through the corridors. Sometimes, even the doors made a "thud thud" sound. Her petite figure would occasionally flinch from being frightened, but her hands didn't stop. She diligently applied disinfectant to every groove and seam on the ceiling.