CHAPTER 23: Painting Mitsuko’s Toes
I’m in the guest bedroom. I feel more comfy here than in my pod. Perhaps it’s the fact Mitsuko is nearby, somewhere in this building. It’s a mansion compared to my broom closet of a home. My head is throbbing. Mitsuko has a wicked slap… She enters the room with two glass cups. I can smell the alcohol.

“These are for you—for the pain. Don’t look at me like that. I don’t drink. I don’t care if you don’t. This is the only medicine I have.” Mitsuko holds both cups with one hand and takes the ice pack from me. I reach for the cups—she leans them away—she pours the liquid down my throat like she’s a nurse treating me. It’s surprisingly not that bad of a drink. Victory Gin? The effects are instant, then multiplied by the second glass. She places the ice pack over my eye.

“My mom will be home soon. We’re going to say you fell while walking me home. Understand?” Mitsuko seems ashamed to be telling me this. I agree with her story. It can’t be that bad, I think to myself.

The phone rings. Mitsuko informs me her mom is not going to be home. Her regret for what she did to me is layered with another pain.

“Are you ok?” I ask.

Mitsuko covers her emotions with a smile. She sits on the bed beside me as I sink underneath the fuzzy blankets she provided. “I’m ok. She does this all the time. I’m used to it by now. Sometimes she’s gone for weeks at a time. It happens less ever since I started complaining, but she’s like ‘I have to make sacrifices for work’. Whatever…”

She stares in my eyes, but looks straight through me. “I’ll keep you company,” I say.

Mitsuko’s lips quiver. She turns her head from me. “Why?”

“Because… you’re my friend.”

Mitsuko scoffs. “I’m your bully at school. I hit you… Fuck, what the hell was I thinking. There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?”

With the liquid courage in my system, I speak boldly, “You’re perfect to me.”

Mitsuko blushes, almost looking repulsed. “D-don’t say that. Seriously, shut up.” She points her finger at me. I’ve never seen her more flustered. A smile escapes my lips. She squints her eyes and breaks into a cynical laugh.

“You’re stupid, you know that? Do you just like being abused?”

“No… I… like being with you. You don’t abuse me.”

Mitsuko bulges her eyes. “Uh huh, sure…”

With her thighs crossed I can see her blue nail polish is slightly chipped. She catches me staring. “Yeah, yeah, I know I need to re-do them. I was planning—wait… Actually, I’ll be right back.”

Mitsuko leaves and returns with a black chest. She waves her hand, telling me to scoot toward the wall. Her legs extend toward me. She fingers the various colors in her chest, twirling them around. “Do you wanna pick? It’s the least I can do… I know you want to, right?”

I’m so excited. I simulate the same gesture, fingering each color like it’s a life or death decision. I settle on black.

“Oh? We’re going with emo?” Mitsuko shrugs. “Sounds good to me.”

“I’ve never done this before,” I confess.

“Of course you haven’t. You’ve never even kissed a girl. This is far more intimate than that. Wait, have you even held a girl's hand?”

I blush, remembering the other night when Mitsuko helped me from my knees in subservience to her. The reason why my knees are slightly bruised…

“What’s with the stupid look?” Mitsuko says.

“I’ve only held your hand… When I was—”

“But you haven’t. Helping you up isn’t the same. You looked pathetic, shaking like an anorexic bird. I didn’t want you to fall and die and I go to jail. Idiot. Anyway, I’ll do the first nail. Watch carefully.”

Mitsuko scoots close. First she uses a cotton ball soaked in nail polish remover and roughly exterminates the blue I’ve grown fond of. She dips her brush in the black and gives three vertical swipes on her big toe. I get a close look at her technique. It’s deeply intimate to have my face this close…

She snaps her fingers, demanding my eyes. I shutter as pleasure courses through me. “Oops. Sorry, I forgot about the trigger we implanted… I’m surprised it works out of trance. Or… does seeing my toes hypnotize you that easily?” Mitsuko laughs, setting her hand on my thigh. After a shy moment of silence, she pulls her hand away like she touched a hot frying pan. We don’t speak of the contact. She annoyedly hands me the materials.

My hands tremble. Mitsuko tells me to calm down or the polish will looked ‘fucked up’. I try my best, but I get some on her skin. I do a horrible job and apologize, but she explains there’s a way to fix it. The pinky toe is the most difficult. The smell of the nail polish makes me feel a certain type of way.

Mitsuko takes a cotton swab dipped in polish remover and shows me how to fix the mistakes. I repeat her technique.

“Now they need to dry… Good thing I have you here. Do you mind?”

I don’t understand. She shakes her head. “I forgot, you’re a virgin loser. You ever seen a girl do this?” She curls her hand and blows on her blue fingertips softly. “Go ahead…”

I lean down, holding my breath… I blow softly, and Mitsuko lets out a sigh; the air feels good between her toes. She punches my leg when I look up at her. I continue, exhaling on each black toenail. I feel woozy with intimacy. Next we do her fingers. She has the most elegant hands I’ve ever seen. I do a better job with the manicure. I blow on her fingernails, feeling all sorts of lewd doing so…

“That’s enough. They’re dry enough…” Mitsuko stands up and collects the materials hastily, like she’s trying to retreat.

“Thank you,” I say before she steps out the door. She pauses and turns around.

A slow smile spreads across her face.