As I lurked between the aisles of the department store, I did my best to blend into the shadows. My eyes were locked on a familiar shock of pink hair in the distance.
(What is he doing here?) Saiki was standing with a store clerk. She was hovering, her hands moving too close to his shoulders as she held up a measuring tape. Seeing him touched by someone else—someone so ordinary—sent a sharp, icy chill through my chest.
Why am I this angry? I asked myself, my grip tightening on a nearby garment rack. It felt as if my favorite possession was being handled without my permission. I watched him try on different outfits, but no matter how handsome he looked, my fingernails ached. I wanted to be the one helping him. I wanted to be the one choosing his colors.
"Saiki-kun, why won't you just be mine?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "Am I not enough? Do you... do you hate me?"
As the clerk led him toward the dressing rooms, a surge of heat rose in my blood. She had no business being in that enclosed space with him. That space belonged to me.
Maybe once he leaves... I should kill her.
No. Death was too quick. Maybe I'd ruin her life first. Make her lose everything. I was still spiraling through these dark fantasies when a loud crash echoed through the department.
Saiki, usually so poised, had somehow tripped. It was a freak accident—a streak of pure, unadulterated bad luck. He fell forward, colliding with the clerk and sending them both to the floor in a tangled, compromising heap.
(Dammit, stop doing whatever the plot needs,) Saiki thought, though I couldn't hear him.
The clerk tried to scramble up, but in her clumsiness, she fell right back onto his face. That was my breaking point. Something inside me snapped like a dry twig. I didn't feel like the "Perfect Pretty Girl" anymore. I felt like a predator.
Death sentence? No... she deserves a life of self-hatred. But I don't think I can wait that long.
I smoothed my skirt, wiped the murderous intent from my eyes, and approached them with my trademark angelic smile. "Excuse me? Can I get some help here?"
The clerk looked up, her face turning pale. She knew how this looked. She tried to stammer out an apology, letting out a small, pathetic moan of pain as she stood. Since the store was eerily empty, there were no witnesses—just me, the clerk, and a now-unconscious Saiki.
She hurried to drag him toward the dressing room to recover, oblivious to the fact that she was walking into her own grave.
The AftermathWhen Saiki finally drifted back to consciousness, he felt a warm hand stroking his hair.
(Weird...) he gropped mentally. (Aren't they supposed to know I can read their thoughts? Why is everything so quiet?)
"Saiki-kun, you're finally awake," I said softly.
He sat up, looking dazed. He seemed different—less guarded. (Are my powers gone? And... where's the clerk?) He tried to stand, thanking me for the help, but his legs gave out. He landed right back in my lap. I didn't mind. I didn't mind at all.
"You hit your head very hard," I cooed, brushing a stray hair from his forehead. "Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?"
(Am I sure I'm the one who hit my head?) Saiki wondered, looking at me. He couldn't tell if I was genuinely worried or playing a game. But the warmth was comforting, and his eyes fluttered shut again. (She seems... nicer today.)
Once I was sure he was deep in sleep, I gently moved his head to a cushion and stepped into the dressing room.
The brunette clerk was still there. She wasn't standing anymore. Her beauty was fading into a sickly, pale grey. It was amazing how effective a sturdy bra strap could be when used with enough conviction.
(Maybe these should be classified as lethal weapons...) I giggled to myself.
I dragged the heavy bag out to the alleyway, tossing it into the dumpster among the rest of the refuse. Muggings were common in this district; the police wouldn't look twice at a "random" tragedy.
"How nice," I whispered into the cool night air. "A family reunion."
I turned my back on the darkness and walked back inside to my Saiki. After all, he was mine now. And mine alone.