Page 7

7

The Audacity of Fools

MOMOI

I was still furious. Rejection after rejection. I wasn’t even given the chance to prove I could do anything. Just "no experience," "not what we’re looking for," the same tired excuses, the same dismissive faces.

So, I ended up in a bar. Another dive, another place where I could lose myself in a drink and pretend for a few minutes that none of this mattered. I didn’t want to think about anything anymore, least of all the crushing weight of being nothing in a city full of people who could’ve cared less.

At this rate, my money was going down the drain faster than I wanted, making me feel even worse.

The bartender, an older guy who looked as if he’d seen too many wasted souls pass through, slid a glass in front of me without asking. I didn’t say a word, just took the drink and knocked it back like I was drowning in it.

"Rough day?" he asked quietly, not wanting to push but still offering a friendly ear.

I stared at the glass, taking a few moments before answering. "What gave it away?" I muttered, barely caring. The last thing I needed was someone trying to play therapist, but I didn’t care enough to send him away. Maybe the silence was better than trying to pretend everything was fine.

He didn’t press. Good.

I watched quietly as he refilled my cup before walking away to tend to other customers. I threw some cash on the counter and took a sip.

I sat there for a while, the low hum of the bar around me fading into the background as the alcohol took over. It wasn’t enough, but it was something.

But of course, some guy decided he needed to ruin the moment.

"Hey, pretty lady," he said, his voice dripping with confidence, or maybe arrogance. I didn’t look at him, but I could feel his presence right next to me. "Mind if I sit here?"

I didn’t bother turning my head. "No, but you’re gonna do it anyway, right?"

He chuckled. A sound that immediately made my skin crawl. "You got that right," he said, sliding onto the stool beside me as if he owned the place. "How about I buy you a drink?"

I didn’t want anything from him. "You can keep your drink, I already got mine," I snapped, my patience already running thin.

"Come on, don’t be like that," he insisted, leaning a little too close. "What’s your name?"

I could feel his breath, the subtle intrusion of his presence, and it pissed me off. "I’m not interested."

He didn’t back off. Instead, he leaned even closer, trying to act all charming as if I didn’t already see through it. "Don’t you want to have some fun?" he asked, his hand brushing against my arm.

I froze for a second, the audacity of this guy burning a hole in my patience. Flexing my free hand into a fist, I took a few deep breaths.

"You don’t get it, do you?" I snapped, spinning toward him, my hand gripping the glass tighter. "I’m not looking for whatever bullshit you’re selling."

He looked surprised, but then his grin came back. "Oh, come on, no need to be so cold."

And that was it. I’d had enough. Without even thinking, I grabbed my drink and threw it in his face. I slammed the glass onto the counter with satisfaction as the ice and whiskey splashed all over his shirt, his face, and his smug little expression wiped clean away.

"You’re an idiot," I muttered, standing up and turning on my heel.

His hands went to his chest as he sputtered. "What the hell’s your problem?"

I didn’t stick around to hear the rest. I pushed through the crowd of the bar, heading for the door without a second glance. I could hear his footsteps behind me, fast, angry, and I just hoped he'd stop. But of course, he didn’t.

"Hey, bitch!" I heard him yell as the door slammed behind me. "You’re gonna pay for that!"

I kept walking, fast now, the thudding of his footsteps behind me getting closer. He was following me. Great. I quickened my pace, my heart pounding harder as I heard his voice cutting through the air.

"You think you can just do that and get away with it?" His voice was venomous now, each step that echoed behind me pushing me further into a panic. I probably knew what he wanted, but I wasn’t sticking around to find out.

I glanced behind me, his face twisted in rage, eyes dark with anger. He wasn’t going to stop. He wasn’t going to let this go. He wasn’t used to rejection.

I could feel the fear creeping up my spine, but I shoved it down. I wasn’t going to let some asshole ruin my night. Not tonight. Not again.

I turned a corner, trying to lose him, but he was still on my tail. My breath was quick now, my head spinning with the weight of my anger and the desperation to escape.

"Get the fuck away from me!" I screamed, turning around to face him, but he didn’t slow down. He was right there, towering over me now, his anger mixing with something else—something ugly.

"You can’t just treat people like shit and walk away!" he spat.

Something inside of me broke. The same fury that had been simmering all day came pouring out of me in a burst of energy. I shoved him back, hard, but he just grabbed my arm, jerking me toward him, his grip too tight, his breath foul and hot on my face.

"Let go of me!" I yelled, panic creeping into my voice.

He sneered, pulling me closer. "Make me."

That’s when everything inside me exploded.

With everything I had, I kneed him right in the gut. His eyes widened in shock as he staggered back, gasping for air, his grip loosening just enough for me to pull away and elbow him in the face. Another swift kick, and he was knocked on the ground.

I didn’t wait. I turned and ran, done with the day. My legs moved like they had a mind of their own, dodging through the crowd, weaving around people. I didn’t care about anything but getting away from him and back to the solitude of my apartment.

My heart pounded in my chest, a steady rhythm that matched my hurried steps, but the thudding of his footsteps behind me, heavy and relentless, pushed me harder. I could feel the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, the rush from the earlier scuffle urging me to keep going. The streets blurred around me as I darted between alleyways, taking turns I’d memorized, pushing myself past every obstacle in my path.

I could hear him behind me, getting closer, but I refused to look back. I had to keep moving faster, harder. It was all instinct now.

When my arm was yanked backward, I jerked and instinctually twisted, spinning around, ready to fight.

But another figure stole my attention. Standing between me and the man who had grabbed me, was Tatsuya.

I froze for a second, my breath catching in my throat. He looked different now—his face still calm, but there was a steel in his gaze that wasn’t there before. His body was positioned protectively between me and the man who had dared to lay a hand on me. I could see the slight tension in his posture, the veins popping out the side of his bald head, prepared for whatever came next.

The man who had grabbed me scoffed, still holding onto my arm, but his eyes flickered between Tatsuya and me.

"Mind your business, monk," the man sneered, his grip tightening on my wrist, pulling me closer toward him. “This doesn’t concern you.”

But Tatsuya didn’t flinch. His voice was low, almost serene, but it held a quiet authority that made the man hesitate. "It does concern me. Let her go."

The thug scoffed again, his grip on me tightening. “And what? You’re gonna stop me? I think you’ve got the wrong idea, monk.”

Tatsuya didn’t even blink. "You’re the one with the wrong idea."

He stepped forward, closing the distance between him and the stranger, moving with the calm precision of someone who knew how to handle conflict without making a show of it.

I didn’t have time to process what was happening. One moment, the loser was pulling me toward him, and the next, Tatsuya had moved in a flash, grabbing the man’s arm and twisting it behind his back with a practiced move. The stranger gasped, letting go of my wrist in an instant as he staggered to the side, clearly shocked by Tatsuya’s swift action.

"Let me make something clear," Tatsuya said, his voice unwavering. "You will not touch her again." His grip tightened on the guy’s arm, and the man yelped in pain, his body starting to go limp as he realized there was no way out of this situation.

I stood there, a bit impressed, trying to make sense of what was happening. I hadn’t expected Tatsuya to step in like this—not after the brief interaction we had before. He was a monk, after all. This kind of thing was the last thing I imagined him getting involved in. Weren’t monks about peace and all?

Realizing he was outmatched, the guy from the bar cursed under his breath. "This isn’t over," he spat, and with a final, desperate jerk, he tried to pull away from Tatsuya’s hold. But the monk didn’t budge, keeping him in place with ease.

"It is now," Tatsuya said, his tone cold but resolute.

The stranger growled, stumbling backward as he finally gave up, retreating into the night, his pride bruised but his life intact.

I watched him go, my heart still racing. The adrenaline from the fight was starting to wear off, and I was left with the eerie quiet of the night around us. I turned to face Tatsuya, my mind still trying to catch up with what had just happened. No one had ever interceded for me before, let alone a male. In the past, the males usually joined in with whatever they had planned for me.

For a moment, neither of us said anything. I could feel the weight of his presence next to me—a calm in the middle of the storm. He was standing there, unmoved, as if he had no trouble with the confrontation at all.

Finally, he spoke, his voice softer now, but still steady. “Are you all right?”

I blinked, taken aback by the concern in his voice. It was strange hearing it, and even stranger that he seemed genuinely concerned about me—the girl with an attitude problem because she couldn’t process her emotions earlier, and he happened to be the closest casualty. I wasn’t used to this—I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

People like him, people who seemed so untouchable, didn’t care about someone like me. Not in this way.

I didn’t answer yet. Instead, I looked away, pushing down the gnawing feeling in my chest that told me to distrust this moment, to keep my distance. I wasn’t used to this kind of care, this kind of protection. I was always able to take care of myself on the streets.

“I’ll be fine,” I muttered, my voice rough, not meeting his eyes.

Tatsuya didn’t push. He just nodded, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer before he stepped back, his presence still a calming anchor in the chaos of the night.

“Stay safe,” he said, and guilt began to eat away at me.

“Momoi.”

“What was that?”

With a deep breath, I fought every survival instinct I grew up with. “My name. It’s Momoi.”

He didn’t need to know my last name.

I felt something shift in me, something I wasn’t ready to acknowledge, and I turned away before I could feel any more of it. I wasn’t ready for this—whatever this was.

Without another word, I walked off into the night. I couldn’t make sense of him. But one thing was clear—he had just saved me, in more ways than one. And that thought stayed with me, heavy and uncertain, as I disappeared into the shadows of the city once again.