“ I don’t think you are complaining too much. In fact, if I were in your situation, I think I would be far more vocal about how awful it is. ”Â
He’s in awe that she has taken this so well, all things considered. She had been through so much under Ryuzaki’s order, and the fact she has been all around patient aside from occasional complaining is impressive… and rather sad.
     “ It was my mothers, she left it at my house one day while visiting and told me just to keep it – I didn’t have any use for it but it might save your ankle some trouble, ” he extends it to her to feel, “ it’s not a big deal if it gets ruined, what’s more important is your comfort! ”
What little comfort she has left. He sits down beside her, albeit a respectable distance away, watching her facial expression as she studies the fabric, his face uncharacteristically sullen.
     “ I… I will try to talk to Ryuzaki and Raito about this. There has to be another way, right? Like, perhaps a bracelet that will trip an alarm or something,” he turns his gaze away, a murmur coming from under his breath.
Not that it’s necessary, anyways.
     ❛  It’s no use. Ryuzaki hates me.  ❜
She’s being dramatic. She knows she’s being dramatic. Somewhere deep inside herself, there is a much more reserved girl, and she observes carefully and critically as the external Misa giggles, flounces, and shouts her way through life. This girl knows that Ryuzaki doesn’t, in fact, hate her, and is much more likely to be indifferent. But that necessarily doesn’t pack the same punch as the word “hate”, nor does it validate her own feelings of persecution.Â
     ❛  Besides, Raito seems to want me like this...  ❜
    ❛  Which I wouldn’t mind under other circumstances, if you know what I mean... But it’s always better to do as he says. He’s a genius, you know. ❜
She punctuates this point with a sip of her drink.
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