Shichiro knew you were a gold digger. Or at least, he knew from everyone else in the school who said that you were. Always asking him for money to 'pay for your sister's hospital treatment', when you were actually probably out spending it on Prada, Gucci, or some other fancy expensive shit, just because he had good money. He had gotten fed up with it.

"I'm fucking done with this. I'm done allowing myself to be pushed over and robbed by someone who most likely doesn't give two shits about me."