Chapter 22: The Predator's Kiss

And she's smirking.

It's not the invisible smile from the alley.

It's a real smirk.

A tiny, smug smirk.

And it's terrifying.

And hot.

My brain is broken.

"See?" she whispers, her voice amused. "You are not afraid of me. You are afraid of the idea of me."

She taps my chest. Right on my heart.

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.

"And you are flustered," she states. "Your heart rate is alarming. It is highly inefficient."

"I am NOT FLUSTERED!" I yell, my voice a squeak.

I try to dodge past her.

She blocks me. Her hand just comes up and lands on my chest.

It's not a push. It's just a placement.

But I stop.

"My father likes you," she says.

She just drops that bomb. Casually.

My anger, my fear, my fluster... it all just vanishes.

...

"What?"

That's all I can say.

"He told me this morning," she says. She drops her hand. She turns her head and looks at the city.

The goddess-mask is back.

"He said, 'Your messy variable has guts. He is adequate.'"

I just stare at the side of her face.

"'Adequate'?" I mutter. "Is that the only adjective your family knows? 'Inefficient.' 'Problematic.' 'Adequate.' You guys really need a thesaurus."

She doesn't respond. She just watches the city.

"He acknowledged you," she says, her voice soft. Really soft.

"He has never 'acknowledged' any 'boy' I have ever even spoken to."

Oh.

Oh.

This is huge.

I'm the first.

The first guy in her life that her father, the yakuza dragon, has stamped with 'adequate'.

I don't know what to say to that.

"I... uh... cool?"

She turns her head, looks at me.

"He approves of my new hobby," she says.

...

"Hobby?!" I squawk. "I'M your HOBBY?!"

"You are," she says, her gaze intense, analytical. "You are my anomaly. My messy variable."

She takes a step closer. I'm still against the railing.

"You are the first 'interesting' thing to happen at that boring school."

She's... she's complimenting me.

In her own twisted, psycho-goddess, yakuza-princess way.

I am completely speechless.

"So..." I manage, my voice shaky. "What now? Am I in this? In your crazy yakuza world?"

"You were 'in' this," she says, her voice a whisper, "...the moment you took that knife for me."

She leans in.

"You just did not know the name."

She's so close. I can't move. I can't think.

"Ayako... what... what are you..."

"My father," she whispers, "...he thinks I am 'happier'. He thinks you are 'good for me'."

She pauses.

"He is wrong."

My heart sinks. "...Wrong?"

"You are troubling," she whispers, her lips barely moving. "You are a distraction. You make my data messy."

She leans closer.

"...And I... I find... I do not MIND the mess anymore."

And then, she does it.

She leans in that last millimeter.

And kisses me.

...

It's not a kiss.

It's a peck.

It lands right on my cheek.

It's soft.

It's warm.

It's over in one second.

...

...

...

My brain.

Blue screen of DEATH.

CRITICAL SYSTEM FAILURE.

...

Ayako leans back.

Her face is perfectly calm.

BUT...

Her EYES.

Her eyes are sparkling.

She's AMUSED.

She smirks. That tiny predator smirk.

"Your cardiovascular system," she says, her voice all business, "...is highly inefficient, Minatawa-kun."

"You should work on that."

She turns.

Her ponytail swishes.

She walks to the door.

She pauses, her hand on the handle.

"Dojo. 6 AM. Do not be late."

The door THUDS shut.

...

I...

I slide down the railing.

I land on the concrete.

My face is on FIRE.

My heart is trying to escape my chest.

I slowly touch my cheek.

It's tingling.

"...What..."

"...the..."

"...HELL..."

"...just happened?"