[h2]Mako Moritomi//Yoshida Book Cafe[/h2] [h3]Sunday, May 3rd, 2015[/h3] ==~== Mako started to feel very... crestfallen, as Sato was none too gentle with rejecting his offer of help, if needed. And suddenly he was very acutely aware of just how stupid it was to come over here, especially with as raw as the event in question was in Sato's mind, obviously, and he should clearly just [i]shut the fuck up and sit down.[/i] [color=0076a3]"...Right. I wasn't-- hm. Right. Don't mention it, got it. I'll just, uh... sit back down then."[/color] He paused for a moment, shuffling about like an idiot, before finishing. [color=0076a3]"Good talk, I guess."[/color] [i][b][color=0076a3]OH MY GOD, SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN.[/color][/b][/i] Mako did so, feeling very... cold. [color=0076a3][i]Even when I try to help, I fuck things up. Good. Great. Glad I could figure that out.[/i][/color] He looked up at the waitress who'd taken his order, frustration evident on his face. [color=0076a3][i]Think I'd better take this order to go,[/i][/color] he thought, fishing out his wallet. ---- [h2]Mako Moritomi//Warakuma High, Boxing Club[/h2] [h3]Monday, May 4th, 2015[/h3] ==~== The day- and therefore Mako's mood- had not improved since yesterday, as the poor heavy bag in front of him could attest. Part of him was afraid he'd punch a hole in the bag with the relentless assault he was inflicting upon it. Most of him was too wrapped up in destroying the bag, and [i]not[/i] someone or something who'd actually feel it, to care. He wasn't even smiling today, either. There was no enjoyment in today's practice- just rage. He'd already been stewing somewhat earlier, just from remembering Sato's rather rude rebuffing of his efforts to help. True, he hadn't gone about it in quite the right way, but that was no excuse for being rude. Anger at Sato quickly evaporated somewhere around lunchtime, however, to be rekindled with rage at that [i]fucking cellphone bastard.[/i] [color=0076a3][i]I knew he hadn't gotten rid of those photos. Should have broken his fucking phone when I had the chance.[/i][/color] Unfortunately, it was a little late for that- pictures of "Saki" had flooded the school, speculation rampant and wild regarding just who the mystery maid really was. That asshole was never going to be allowed back into the cosplay cafe at this point, but the damage had already been done. And soon, someone was likely to realize exactly who the mystery girl was... Worse still, he had no idea [i]why[/i] he was so angry about it. True, he'd be frustrated and disgusted with the cellphone bastard on principle under normal circumstances, but this was far and away too much. Too much heat when he wasn't even the victim, too much rage at someone who really didn't matter in the long run, too much fixating on the image of someone he didn't even-- He bit back a curse as he drove a particularly powerful punch into the bag, but at the wrong angle, hurting his wrist. He winced, rubbing the pained area, then sighed, the action doing nothing to cool his rage. [color=0076a3][i]I can't be here right now. All of this... shit. With the photos, and Sato, and[/i] that bastard... [i]I should... study? Go home? Find that arrogant prick and shove his cellphone SO FAR UP HIS ASS THAT-- ... I need to go for walk. That's what I need to do. Maybe around Ferrero. I don't know.[/i][/color] He slumped, exhausted, but still fuming for reasons he didn't fully understand, as he turned back out of the gym, toward the locker rooms. [color=0076a3][i]I need to relax. Lord knows this isn't good for me. Especially after last time.[/i][/color] He shuddered as he pondered it, then went on his way, still futilely trying to think "peaceful thoughts."