Crumbling Everyday Life (3)
1. Turn my back and run into the house.
> My ankle catches on the doorstep. The moment I lift my leg to step up, the knife will dig into my back. It won't kill me instantly, but the moment it's properly stabbed in, all the strength will drain from my body.
Yujin won't be satisfied with just stabbing me in the back once. She won't hesitate to swing the knife again and finish me off. She'll probably keep plunging it into my body over and over until I'm dead—no, even long after.
Of course, I could resist, snatch the knife from her, or kick back at her stomach with my heel to buy time to escape. If I'm lucky.
But even then, I couldn't avoid getting slashed or stabbed a couple times by Yujin's knife. I'd end up trapped in the hospital from the wounds, and the second I got discharged, straight to prison. Yujin stabbing me? In a city that sends men to jail as rapists without evidence, there's no way I could report the school's idol—who's tight with Sua—while bedridden in a hospital bed.
So, rule out option one.
2. Arch my back to dodge.
> I could probably avoid the stab flying at my face right now. But the follow-up slash? With my back arched like that, even running away afterward would be tough.
Option two is worse than one. So, option three—
No time to think. This isn't the moment for calculations; it's time to act. What should I do? How can I escape? No... I've already tried escaping plenty of times before the regression. And that's exactly why I ended up like this.
So right now...
I locked eyes on the knife hurtling toward my face. Yujin's thigh, the white clouds and blue sky visible over her shoulder, people strolling leisurely, the peaceful scenery. All of it sliced away by the blade, growing larger until the knife tip filled my entire field of vision—
I charged straight at it. Toward death, I ran at it instead.
Just before the tip touched my face, I whipped my head to the side with all my strength. I was mimicking that pro-boxer trick—snapping back from point-blank range, even countering with an uppercut. But I wasn't a pro boxer, so I couldn't dodge it as cleanly as they do. I felt my lip slice open a bit against the blade. Right now it was just a faint graze, but pain would hit hard soon enough.
But,
“Shii—!”
In the end, I grabbed Yujin's wrist. Even after I seized it, she thrashed wildly, swinging the knife, so my fingers got nicked by the tip—but it was way better than a stab to the back or gut.
Originally, after grabbing her wrist, I'd kept my momentum and charged, slamming a powerbomb into Yujeong's face like before—but just before my forehead smashed into Yujin's, I changed my mind and halted my head.
Of course I wanted to spear her face in. But if I did, her nose would gush blood and she'd bruise badly, and then every student and teacher would ask what happened. With a bruised face, she couldn't make her idol final audition on time, and the future timeline would twist.
So I held back from spearing her. But that didn't mean I was letting her off without punishment.
I flashed a sleazy grin. And I gave her a blow that would hurt way more than a bloody nose or bruised cheekbone.
I shoved my face even closer to hers and pressed my lips against Yujin's.
The instant our lips met, Yujin's pupils—already huge, the kind that would later make her one of the top cat-eyed idols—dilated like a real cat's.
I slipped my tongue between her teeth. My tongue, which had been tangled with her mom's mouth all last night, probably reeking of Yujeong's juices instead of saliva.
Blood from my sliced lip burst out, flowing over my tongue into Yujin's mouth. As our lips ground together, the wound tore wider. More blood gushed from the bigger gash, surging through my tongue into her mouth. Yujin flinched, trying to speak, her tongue twitching—and ours collided. Her saliva mixed with my blood.
It was a sour, thick, brutally metallic taste. Our first kiss.
Yujin's struggling suddenly stopped. She'd been ready to stab me even with her wrist caught, but now the strength drained from her hand, and the kitchen knife clattered to the floor.
The metallic clang! echoed loudly as it hit the entryway tiles. Panic flashed in Yujin's eyes—whites vanishing as her pupils blew wide—and the murderous glare returned, the one that snarled die at me.
I yanked my tongue out fast. A split-second later and it would've been halved. But after that deep, twisting kiss, I couldn't pull it all free—my lower lip snagged on her upper teeth. I pummeled her stomach with my fist to break free, but she wouldn't let go.
Tears streamed down under the eyes of Yujin, who glared at me with killing intent while gnawing my lower lip like gum. But they weren't tears of pain or fear. Pure hatred—boiling inside her until it overflowed.
“My first kiss, you fucking dog... I was saving it for Minjun, you fucking dog...”
Thanks to her words, I finally wrenched my lip free.
I touched my lips with the hand that had held her wrist. It felt sliced, but luckily not severed—just cut.
While I probed the wound with my fingers, Yujin swung a bare fist at me this time—no knife.
“Die!”
As if that punch could land on me.
I dodged easily and snatched her wrist. Then I yanked both her arms up, slamming her against the wall to stifle her scream, pinning her other hand too—the one clawing at my face. I shut the door.
Then I shoved her back toward the entryway door. Words like calm down wouldn't work on her. This bitch showed up in broad daylight with a knife to kill.
Treat her like an animal, not a person. Even if she's smaller, she's a full predator. Talking won't cut it. Time for a gut punch anesthetic.
I pinned her back flat against the door and drove my fist into her stomach. Couldn't bruise her exposed midriff, so no more belly shots. Next, her tits—left one, then right, one each. After that, those thighs I'd been eyeing. Thick, meaty, flesh spilling slightly over her black stockings—trashy, stupid-looking, cock-hardening thighs.
“Die? Go ahead, try it.”
I kneed her thigh as I taunted.
“Heeek—!”
She jolted like she'd been electrocuted, leg trembling. But her eyes still blazed with defiance—worse, cocky, like she was winning this fight. This fucking bitch.
I grabbed her throat with the hand holding her wrist. Visible marks be damned; I couldn't hold back the rage.
“Guhk... kkhuh... you dog, die...”
Her legs flailed, kicking my chest and shoulders as I lifted her higher than my head with both hands. I endured. Soon her legs went limp. I knew it was fake, but I dropped her anyway—not gently.
Then, as she played dead through the pain but crawled for the knife while I locked the door, I stomped her back. That cooled my rage.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Blood smeared everywhere. Seeing it calmed me more. Not her fault—not entirely. My carelessness.
Deep breaths. My mind settled to cold clarity.
As I reined in the urge to kill her, Yujin stretched and finally gripped the knife. I crushed her hand under my shoe. She still wouldn't let go, clinging stubbornly. No choice—I squatted, grabbed her wrist with one hand, her hair with the other, and hauled her up.
“Fuck, let go! Let go! You don't get to touch this hair!”
“I shoved my hand up the cunt of the bitch who made this hair, and you're whining about this, you fucking slut.”
Her thrashing loosened her updo, long hair cascading to her waist.
I wrapped the longer strands around my palm for better grip and punched her stomach, chest, and thighs once more each until I pried the knife free.
I set Yujin's knife on the shoe rack. Then, gripping her hair, I dragged her kicking and screaming into the house.
When she opened her mouth to yell for help from outside, I cut her off first.
“Go ahead, scream. Try it. You think I didn't see this coming? You think the camera didn't catch you trying to knife me? I'm a rapist? What does that make you? You're a murderer now.”