It is a strange thing, knowing that some unsexual action I performed has turned on at least one of the two incredibly beautiful women with me right now.

It is especially strange because, the unsexual action I’d performed was something as (in hindsight) ridiculously edgy as snapping a dude’s fingers to ‘teach him a lesson’.

Personally, I would have thought that most women’s reaction to witnessing such an act, would be discomfort at best and disgust and disapproval at worst.

Even for the more bloodthirsty/violent women, I would have thought that the best you’re likely to get from them would be approval.

Arousal though?

Wow.

I honestly don’t know how to feel about that. Especially since I don’t know who specifically had felt it and why.

If I had to guess though, I would go with Keisha.

Based on what [Observe] told me about her, she definitely seems like the type who would find one of the Big Ray’s [Goon]s getting tortured a turn on, especially when it’s by the guy who came in with her sister and bullied the [Gang Boss] in the first place.

But then again, it could also be Annie.

After all, with what had happened to her last night and what she’d done to its perpetrator, it’s more than possible that Annie has a greater taste for violence than even she knows (or [Observe] deigned to tell me).

Wait… is it possible that I turned both of them on?

I think I need to sit down for a minute.

I can’t though, seeing as we’re currently making haste away from Big Ray’s building right now, without making it too obvious that we’re in fact doing just that.

Half a block away, we finally slow to a stop.

Keisha is watching me curiously. Weighing. Judging, but not in a bad way. It’s just that like Big Ray had been doing by the end, she’s trying to figure me out just by staring really hard.

While Keisha can’t seem to get her eyes off of me, Beanie avoids looking at me at all cost.

The kid looks scared. Of me. Me, the guy who thinks pretending to be gay is a legitimate tactic to avoid troublesome situations. Some random kid is scared of me.

That feels… wrong.

“Um,” Beanie says, hesitating. “I should be uh… I should be heading home. My Mom’s uh… I gotta go.”

He turns to run off, but I call his name, halting him in his tracks.

“Thanks,” I say, and Annie quickly chimes in. “For your help.”

I put my hand in my jacket pocket and summon twenty hundred dollar bills into it, then I walk up to the kid, take his hand, and press the bills in.

“It’s not a lot,” I say. “But it’s something. Stop stealing from DaShonte. And maybe just avoid Big Ray’s guys for the next week or two, if you can. Okay?”

The boy stares down at the money in his hand, then at me, his mouth working soundlessly.

Finally, he says; “Uh, yeah. Thanks, man.”

I smile. “You’re welcome.”

Beanie smiles too. A weak thing, but still a smile.

He quickly stows the cash in his jacket, then he nods at Keisha and Annie before he runs off.

I watch the kid go, but turn when I hear Keisha ask; “Who are you?”

“Eugene Berger,” I say. “You can call me U.”

“U?” Keisha asks flatly.

“Fine then,” I say, “call me Gene.”

“Yeah, I ain’t calling you either of that,” Keisha says.

I shrug. “It’s okay,” I say, “no one does.”

Keisha’s lips quirk in a smile and she eyes me top to bottom.

Wow, lady, way to objectify.

Shame on you. Defiling me with your lecherous gaze.

“So, what?” Keisha asks me. “You Annie’s new boyfriend or something?”

“What? No!” Annie says, almost too loud. “It’s not like that, we’re just…” she looks at me, hoping I’ll help her out.

“We only met last night,” I say, only to realize it’s definitely the wrong thing as Annie looks at me with an expression of panic.

Keisha meanwhile, could not look happier at the news.

“Last night? Oh my God, Annie. You slut,” she says playfully.

“It’s not like that,” Annie says. “Eugene…” and she pauses, unable to bring herself to explain our meeting.

Not even to her own sister.

It doesn’t matter though, because it takes Keisha a single look at Annie’s face to know.

The black girl’s face pales in horror. Then it darkens in rage.

Gently, she takes Annie by the shoulders.

The blonde avoids her eyes.

“Who?” Keisha asks.

Annie’s lips tremble. Her eyes glimmer.

“Annie,” Keisha says, rage barely restrained. “Who?”

“He’s dead,” I say.

Keisha’s head whips to me.

“He’s dead,” I repeat. “We took care of his body too. Nothing to trace back to Annie.”

Keisha takes a deep, slow breath.

“Good,” she says. “Good.”

Then she hugs Annie, and the white girl breaks into quiet sobs, while I stand awkwardly to the side, watching passersby watch us as they walk on by.

You know, I’ve only just realized this, but for however long Annie and I know each other, for however long this budding relationship lasts, it will forever be tainted by how we met.

Because, no matter what we do, or who we become, the day we met will always be the day Annie was raped.

And every time someone innocently asks; “How long have you been friends?” Or; “How long have you known each other?” Annie will always be reminded of that one terrible event.

I hold back a sigh.

Keith, you’re so damn lucky you’re dead.

It takes Annie less than a minute to compose herself, and when she does, Keisha says; “Come on.” And begins to pull Annie by the hand down the street.

I follow.

“Where are we going?” Annie asks.

“Hiroshi-sensei’s,” Keisha replies. “I need to see if he’s okay; one of Big Ray’s guys got him good. Also, we can’t stand out here on the street forever.”

Well, she’s right about that.

Hiroshi-sensei’s is a ten minute walk away from where we are, and when we get there, I’m surprised to find that it’s a noodle shop.

Kakuei’s Ramen, it’s called.

The shop doesn’t look too big, but it has a second floor above it, and I assume (and assume I assume correctly) that this is one of those live-above-the-business type things.

Keisha takes us around back. And when we get there, we find the backdoor open.

Keisha steps in, a worried frown on her face.

“Hiroshi-sensei?” she calls out, walking through the dim and empty kitchen with us following behind her.

Keisha heads to the kitchen door that I assume leads into the restaurant proper.

“Hiroshi-sens—” she freezes.

“Keisha, what’s wrong?” Annie asks.

I don’t need the question, or the answer. From the look on Keisha’s face it’s obvious; Hiroshi is dead.

Like she’s in a trance, Keisha staggers forward, and when I make it through the door, I see her crumble to the ground beside the body of a very old and definitely dead man.

Keisha reaches down and gathers the frail body to her chest.

She cries.

Annie goes to her and hugs her. Offering comfort to her sister like she’d received.

I, meanwhile, find myself once again standing awkwardly to the side as one of the sisters cry.