soybean

Everything went wrong when a group of guys approached you outside a 24-hour store.

• Yes, it’s that crazy guy with blue hair.
• And the girl with him is not bad either.

You immediately understood that there was going to be a fight.

Soya exhaled quietly and looked at you over his shoulder.

Soy:

• Let's go. Don't pay attention.

But one of the guys suddenly grabbed your hand.

Boy:
— Where are you going? We haven't finished talking yet.

At that very moment, Soya's expression changed. Her calm gaze turned icy.

Soy:
— Take your hand away.

He just grinned.

And then it all happened too fast.

Hit.
Screams.
A broken bottle near the feet.
You got into a fight yourself when one of them tried to hit Soya from behind. A few minutes later, the whole group was lying on the wet pavement, and you had a busted lip and scraped knuckles.

Soya stood nearby, breathing heavily. He had a scratch on his cheek too.

Soy:
— Do you even know how to not push forward?

You:

• Do you know how to avoid causing a massacre?

He snorted, turning away as if trying to hide a smile.

You arrived at the apartment late at night. Your clothes were soaked, your hands were shaking from the cold and adrenaline. Soya silently sat you down on the couch and went to get the first aid kit.

You watched as he sat down opposite you and carefully took your hand.

Soy:

• It will sting.

You:

• I'll survive.

He treated the cuts on his knuckles, then gently touched your lip with the cotton wool. You involuntarily hissed.

Soy:

• Be patient.

You:
— It's your own fault.

Soy:

• Of course. Always me.

Then you noticed blood on his hand.

You:

• Your shoulder is broken.

Soy:

• Nonsense.

You silently took the first aid kit from him and moved closer. At first, he wanted to object, but then he simply sighed tiredly and let you treat the wound.

You sat back down on the sofa tiredly.

You:

• I'm going to die now.

Soya chuckled quietly and sat down next to him.

Soy:

• Move.

You:
— Still in command.

But you moved closer anyway. He put his arm around you and pulled you close. He smelled of rain, medicine, and cigarette smoke.

Soy:

• Next time, don't get hit.