Chapter 28: Condictions
"Satsuki, you’re hurting me," he said as they climbed the stairs, but she didn’t seem to hear him. Or maybe she just didn’t care.
It wasn’t until they were back in his apartment, with the door locked behind them, that she finally let go. Haruto immediately clutched his wrist to his chest, flexing his fingers to make sure they still worked. There were deep red marks where her fingers had been, and he wouldn’t be surprised if they turned into bruises by tomorrow.
Satsuki saw him examining his wrist and her expression immediately softened. "Oh no, I hurt you, didn’t I?" She reached for his hand, but he instinctively pulled back. The flash of pain that crossed her face at his reaction was almost heartbreaking.
"I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I didn’t mean to... I just... when I heard that you’d been with another woman..." She trailed off, wrapping her arms around herself like she was trying to hold herself together.
For a moment, she looked so lost and vulnerable that Haruto almost forgot about the terrifying creature who had nearly strangled Akiko just minutes before. This was the Satsuki he knew - gentle, caring, fragile. The one who made him dinner and helped him study and looked at him like he was the most important thing in her world.
"Satsuki," he started, not sure what he was going to say but knowing he needed to say something.
She looked up at him with those big, sad eyes, and when she spoke, her voice was barely audible. "If you... if you want her... if you need more than what I can give you..." She took a shaky breath. "I could... I could satisfy you. However you want. Whatever you need. I just... I can’t lose you, Haruto. I can’t."
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. The desperation in her voice, the way she was looking at him like he might disappear at any moment - it was heartbreaking and terrifying at the same time. What did she think he was? Some kind of monster who would demand sexual favors just to stick around?
"Satsuki, no," he said, stepping toward her and pulling her into his arms before she could protest. She felt so small and fragile against his chest, like she might break if he held her too tightly. "That’s not... God, that’s not what this is about at all."
She was trembling in his arms, her hands clutching at his shirt like she was afraid he might push her away. "But you were with her," she whispered against his chest. "You held her. You let her sleep in your bed. You must have wanted..."