No Holds Barred (3)

(Ophelia)

***

Sometime later, the police practically threw us into a jail cell by ourselves. The singling out made me feel like a murderer or pedophile for some reason, though I hardly committed an offense.

However, I had no idea what Koharu had done, and my guesses worried me.

*Jaywalking? Pickpocketing? Manslaughter?*

We were locked in a tan room lined with metal benches, which were far more uncomfortable than anything we had sat on during our travels. The room smelled of feces, and I attributed that to the unclean toilet in the corner that seemed as if it had its fair share of horror stories to tell (probably enough to fill an anthology or two).

I scrunched my nose at it as a new officer stuck his hands through the door to remove the handcuffs. He did the same to Koharu, and I was thankful we weren't rammed into the floor.

When he left, she made a hissing noise and waved her hands around.

"Didn't know if I'd be able to feel them," she joked. "I was certain a finger or two would fly off."

I giggled half-heartedly, but I was more concerned than anything.

"Are you okay?

I calmed down amidst the silence of the past few minutes. It was nothing her smile couldn't fix.

She swung her arms around to stretch them. "Fine and dandy."

While she yawned, her carelessness was rather infuriating, but her injuries took precedence.

"And you? You were also crying in there."

"It was overwhelming," I told her as there was a faint banging against a counter in the background.

I didn't pay it much mind since I figured the front desk had a lot of commotion.

"Fair enough."

We both went silent as she examined the room and ignored me thereafter. I stared at her back, and that rage from before bubbled in me with her face obscured.

*I really wish I could trust you...*

I blurted out, "Answer what I asked you in the car, and stop avoiding it."

Raising an eyebrow, she wiped off the dust from the benches. "It's not avoiding if you didn't ask again."

I glared at her until she continued.

"Hey," she said while she held her hands up and backed away from me, "don't act like you're oh-so innocent. You're in here with me. Why don't you own up to it?"

"You, first." I waved my hand in the air.

"Stole the clothes from a rack out back." With a huff, she talked as if it was something she did every day.

She plopped down on the bench. "Did you really think somebody would just leave those there?"

While looking down, she eyed the skin between the slits in my clothes.

*Why do you act like this? Gah!*

Grabbing her collar weakly, I stood over her. I was overwhelmed with fury to the point I couldn't control my actions.

"Why the *hell* would you do that? Let me guess," I shouted. "You wanted to find some excuse for 'freedom' and stay here, so you got us jailed, right?"

"That's—"

"Don't lie to me."

She snorted. "You want the honest answer?

Pausing, her expression suddenly turned serious. "I want to do something nice for you every once in a while. I feel like you're always the one keeping me together emotionally, so I just wanted to see you happy with something I gave you."

Her voice became feeble. "Am I wrong to want that?"

The barrier surrounding my heart weakened, but my expression did not. I let go of her shirt and sighed.

"No, but you went about it in the wrong way."

*Don't do that shit behind my back.*

"Then, how did you end up in here? Hm? Don't crucify me if you're on the guillotine." Although she maintained a smug appearance, she seemed hurt.

I kept silent, curling my fists as our eyes locked.

I loved her, but I was soon finding arguments with her were rather difficult to navigate. Though, I supposed this was the test of whether we could be together or not.

(I ignored that titillated feeling somewhere below my stomach… I wasn't going to act so brashly upon the cocktail of emotions arising in me.)

She shook her head and laughed. "See? It's hard for you, too. Don't you think we're perfect for each other like that?"

After that, she stood up and placed her arms over my shoulders, cradling my neck with her palms. I reacted to them with a hitched breath, but I tried shrugging them off.

"Koharu," I whispered, "this isn't the time to be acting like this." I took her hands away from me. "I wiped off a statue, okay? I wiped it off and didn't know it was illegal until I could read the plaque. Funny, right?"

She cackled loudly enough to wake a fucking cemetery, and the tension eased some.

"*That's* how you got in here? I thought you would have done something cooler, love."

"Oh, shut up," I joked back, stepping forward to where she was backed into the wall. "You stole tattered clothes."

"I still can't believe you couldn't tell!"

Meeting my gaze with defiance, she giggled lightly.

Quiet. I would not accept it; I averted my eyes.

*You don't have to call me an idiot for wanting to let my guard down.*

"I trusted you enough to doubt that."

That statement was earnest, and it dropped the mood into something somber subsequently.

It was hard to describe how much that simple lie had hurt me, even if it was well-intentioned.

Was she just going to keep up with her fun fibs until she was bored of them? Would she stop when something bad finally happened? Or would she keep pushing the limit, testing my patience with her?

I wasn't going to wait forever if that was the case. I could reach the point where I had enough of that shit.

She lied once about the nature of the curse—which she triggered so ruthlessly, so carelessly.

*Heck, you didn't even properly apologize for getting us into all this in the first place!*

And then, she lied twice about landing us in jail, knowing her hypocritical self could just brush the blame off onto me.

*You aren't wrong, but you have no right to say anything if you won't own up to your actions.*

That was what made me so bitter, so vulnerable.

Why did she open me up and then poke at my most sensitive parts to cause me pain? If I was an open wound, she would drag her finger across me until I got infected—so sick of her wishy-washy nature that I would just fall apart.

Why did she want to play with me like that?

"Then, I'm sorry about that," she finally admitted. She sounded vulnerable, almost like when she first told me about the curse.

I was shocked, but I was too upset to accept her statement.

"How many times are you going to say sorry and not mean it? How many times are you going to not say sorry for things you did?"

She was blank for a moment, which was rare.

"Do you know that's the hardest thing?" Eyelids falling halfway shut, she shook her head. "Saying sorry. Some people never learn it."

"Then, figure it out," I told her ruthlessly.

"Would that get you to stop being mad at me?" In an attempt to garner the sympathy I no longer had, she pouted.

I thought for a moment. Would it?

Gulping, I murmured, "Probably more than anything."

That was all I wanted from her. I wished to trust her wholeheartedly, but she made it impossible!

"Well… I'll try," she said with a tinge of remorse, glancing at her feet.

"That's good." A grin threatened to cover my face.

She swallowed. "Sorry about all this. Sorry about being so selfish."

Sitting once more, she shook her head.

"That's the only thing I wanted to hear. And I'm sorry to you, too."

I sat beside her with a slight smile, not moving to touch or comfort her physically. As such, I hoped my words acted as a consolation right then.

Somehow, we were right back at square one in our journey, that painful space wedging its way between us once more. She wouldn't get my trust back so easily this time.

*Fine. It's what she deserves. But maybe not…*

*Two sides of the horseshoe are the same thing, right?*