Hide Me From the Eyes

And the world plunged into absolute chaos.

To Hoshino’s surprise, a number of Butterflies actually aimed at him, forcing him to put up a shield and wait. And NOT to his surprise, some of his enemies did exactly what he did. Which was annoying. To be fair, the thing about fighting without any cover was that everyone would choose to turtle up and refuse to move like a bitch, forcing the fight into a stalemate.

The only one who refused to follow the turtle strategy was Hazama. She took fire from two, three—FIVE different people, and Satoru was one of them. Hazama didn’t bother with the bolts that were going to miss. She blocked only the ones that would hit her. She dodged only when it would benefit her position, particularly so she could pivot, turn, and shoot the enemy in the face.

“You’re really not running away?” Satoru screamed, stepping in to block a number of bolts Hazama aimed in Nagamori Arisa’s direction. “You’ve grown.”

“Not really.” Hazama let out a breath and jumped back, her staff firm in her hands. “You’re weak. That’s all there is to it.”

Satoru swarmed Hazama with bolts.

Hazama responded with her own stream of smaller shields, blocking each and every attack. But before she could find the time to counter, another barrage of bolts forced her to deploy a larger shield for cover. She was pushed back. Hazama smiled.

“You think you’re being cute?” Satoru laughed as the attacks went on. “Anyway, all you’ve done today is beat a bunch of untrained civilians. You’re still a failure, after all—you still crumble the moment you’re overwhelmed.”

“Bitch, I’m adorable.”

Point. Hazama drove herself out from behind her shield, outrunning even the bolts Satoru had just sent. As expected, Satoru had another barrage ready for her. There would be more, Hoshino could tell. But Hazama didn’t panic. Point. She nudged her staff, forcing her current trajectory to curve and saving her from the incoming barrage. She did this every single time Satoru tried to shoot her down, looking like a goddamn robot avoiding missiles, lasers, and other projectiles in space. Finally, Hazama found the time to block the incoming attack, point her staff, and fire an exploding bolt that tore through half the roof.

They continued fighting like no one below them even mattered. If anything… Hoshino wiped the sweat dripping from his chin. That attack was a message. To Hoshino, it meant she had Satoru covered, and it was now his time to focus on what he could do.

Right now, two enemies were firing at him. They were taking turns pinning him down while the rest of their team got their comrades back to full health so they could slowly regroup around Nagamori Arisa… who now looked like a gigantic, dense century egg.

Hoshino took a deep breath and slicked his hair back. What he needed to do was obvious. Hoshino smiled in gratitude. With Ishigami beating Black and the rest of their crew on his way out and with Hazama pushing Satoru back, it meant that Hoshino’s only worry was getting killed by enemies at his front. And Lemmy. That fucker. He had to watch out for him too.

This was it. Another Hoshino moment.

Hoshino widened his grin, tuning out the sound of bolts crashing against his shield. Speed. He became more aware of the air escaping through his lips. He called forth to something. To himself. To his ancestors. To who he was before. He imagined. He was the avatar. He was in the middle of a spiral in a stone temple in the middle of nowhere. There… his soul manifested, splitting itself apart into a number of people of all shapes and sizes in an outward spiral.

They looked at him with glowing eyes. They pronounced that he was fast. His breath was thunder. That he was lightning itself. That he ate losers for breakfast. That he needed to perform because doing this entire shit while the two-energy-drink Hazama was carrying the entire team could get him fired. However… Hoshino no longer needed to be fast. He was reminded that he had become speed itself.

The plan right now would be to exorcise Nagamori Arisa. Destroying the egg would destroy her and end this fight once and for all. To do that, he channeled his inner spirit. He summoned his bravery—NO. His two inner wolves—NO. His guardian spirit, his very own soul that took the form of a Chevrolet Corvette C6 that roared Katy Perry’s “Firework” at full blast.

Hoshino opened his eyes. Counting the two enemies in front of him and the five that surrounded Nagamori Arisa, he had seven enemies and counting; some Butterflies were focused on getting their teammates back in the fight, which might be a problem later. BUT… Hoshino wouldn’t have to worry about having more enemies if there were no fights to be fought. Hoshino brought his body low and readied himself to sprint like an athlete. Now, he was ready to make them go OH, OH, OH.

Hoshino shot himself forward, imagining the power of his ancestors running through his veins. Naturally, his enemies fired at him. But he imagined himself in slowed, almost suspended time. Everything became a quick-time event. A part of him believed that these things weren’t real. BUT FUCK THAT. It was an easy choice. Either this or he would piss his pants, get shot, and then die.

Three Butterflies advanced. The first one pulled up a large shield and the other two fired at him from both sides. Hoshino increased his speed, lowering his posture and extending his arms all the way to his back so he could run like a ninja.

Miss. Miss. Miss. Miss. MISS. MISS. MISS. They all had shit aim—well, not really. They were panicking, afraid that Hazama would shoot them down from where she was. That or Hoshino himself had become a GOD at dodging.

And soon… they were in range of Hoshino and his shit aim.

Hoshino ducked through a near-point-blank bolt and kicked the first Butterfly’s knee, making his right leg bend backward before he crumbled under his own weight. An opening. The second Butterfly had to cancel his shield, giving Hoshino the time to knock him out by blasting his right arm to smithereens. The third one flinched due to all the blood and flesh that splattered on his face, so Hoshino blasted his right leg too.

Four more. However, they were regrouping. The Butterflies who had busied themselves by healing their downed teammates started gathering around Nagamori Arisa too. Hoshino gritted his teeth and moved, reminding himself that he was the master of his bladder and there was no one else who could continue this mission but him.

With numbers on their side, the Butterflies pressed the attack.

Like hell he would retreat; Hoshino widened his grin to mask the fear in his eyes. He shielded himself from a few bolts and returned fire to blow up the leg of the fourth Butterfly. Then, he lunged and punched the fifth Butterfly in the dick and next in the throat.

The sixth Butterfly chose to forget he was a spellcaster. He believed in his strength, and he was right. His attacks broke through Hoshino’s guard and into his face, forcing him to step back as his brain tried to remind him that he was still walking on this earth. Before Hoshino could fully disengage, however, the man grabbed his shoulder and punched him in the gut three times, making him vomit the things he had desperately fought to keep inside during Nagamori Arisa’s theatrics.

Still, this buffoon forgot about one thing. This wasn’t a straight-up fistfight, and the fact that Hoshino had been refusing to let go of his wand. So there were two things. Fuck.

Hoshino flashed the Butterfly a wide, bloody smile and blew off his right leg. He made the man kneel before he could kick him in the face and out of the fight.

“Get fucked, Frenchie!”

A shout. Hoshino shifted his head to face where the sound came from and he was thrown to the ground. He got bolted. There was pain. Hoshino groaned. It hurt like a bitch. Hoshino touched his right boob. The pain was there… but it was fine. It was painful, but he could breathe. He wouldn’t die… but why didn’t he die? If anything, he felt like he was punched in the chest by a heavyweight boxer. So, something waaaay below Ishigami.

Hoshino chuckled as he picked himself up. These bitches had no plan of killing him. Even with all these fuckers here, Black had been the only one who shot him with the intent of activating his life insurance—if he had one. And with her out of the way, that made things veeeeerrry simple.

His enemies had gathered. About four or five more stood in his way. He couldn’t see that well anymore. The rest were respectfully pointing their wands at him, considering whether they should fire or not. Cowards.

Hoshino’s eyes shifted to the black egg and back to his enemies. Engaging them in a firefight would waste too much precious time. If he could just get in range and bolt her... that would be nice. But he would be lying if he said that he had no other options left.

Hoshino wiped the blood from his nose. Pain. Pain didn’t exist; it was a product of the mind. And Fear. Fear was the mind-killer. FFear was the death that would bring his total obliteration. Today. Right here. Right now. He would face that fear. He would truly become the master of his bladder. He would let fear pass over and through him. And when his fears were gone… he would turn on his mind’s eye and face its path. Then… he would realize that only him would remain.

Feeling the very breath that burned in his lungs, Hoshino charged; he widened his grin as he pressed through the barrage. Inside, he let some bolts pass while ignoring the ones that slammed into his thigh, abdomen, chest, and shoulder—even the one that chewed off his pinky and ring finger.

Hoshino screamed. Bolt. He tore off the leg of the seventh Butterfly. Shield. He blocked an attack meant to tenderly poke a hole in his head. He spun to fire, dismantling the right arm of the eighth Butterfly. And he was hit. Hoshino grit his teeth. A shot to the left shoulder made him forget what having it felt like. It didn't matter. He took down two more Butterflies who thought he was finished. He dragged himself forward. Nagamori Arisa wasn’t far away now.

This was the bulk of his strategy. The Hoshino moment. This was the price he was willing to pay to swing back against his enemies and keep moving. This was the only thing that he, Hoshino—no, Tsukishiro Arata—could do. Because the bottom line was that no matter how injured he got, as long as he could fire that one bolt that won’t miss, they would win. Then Hazama, Ishigami, and Shiba Kakeru wouldn't be wrong for believing in him.

And as he reached the egg…

“I knew you would come back for me… Hino-san.”

There was a sweet voice, one that he had never heard of before. Nagamori Arisa… was this her?

Hoshino dropped his wand, his eyes welling at the rot that ripped through his nose and threatened to tear his head in two. He staggered forward, raising his maimed left arm only to realize that—right… he dropped it. His lips curled. He lost the feeling on both his legs as the world around him began to turn. He leaned back, swallowing hard… fighting the urge to vomit what the rest his stomach could offer. He shut his eyes, shaking his head, grunting, refusing to look until a pair of warm hands touched both sides of his cheek, sending shivers down his spine that his body forgot that it had a second later.

“I forgive you… I knew you didn’t mean it,” she continued, letting out a weak, pained laugh as she slowly moved her hand to cradle the back of his head. “I mean, it surprised me too, but…”

Nagamori Arisa flushed her weight against him. Hoshino gasped, grimacing. She pressed her chest against his, letting out a small, playful moan as she wrapped another set of arms around him, grinding against his body with a rhythmic, sickening joy. Her breath. Thick. Hot. Putrid. It stuck to his skin as it crawled up the side of his neck and caressed his lower jaw.

Hoshino opened his mouth, his lungs begging for air they somehow couldn’t draw; he was starting to choke on both the bile rising from his stomach and the saliva swelling in his throat. And he shivered when she leaned in, her damp lips tracing the shape of his ear with small kisses and occasional puffs of pleasured breath that felt like bugs gnawing into his brain. Her thumbs… Its warm touch traced the lines of his cheekbones, moving gently upward to brush lovingly against his eyelashes before slowly forcing his eyes wide.

“But you shouldn’t have done that…”

Nagamori Arisa shoved her thumbs into his skull. Before he could even scream, Hoshino’s eyes were gone.