“Sláinte!” The hosts announce as their glasses clink into the microphone. ‘Slahn-che’ means ‘cheers’ in Irish, I think…
“Ooh! Goes down smooth!” Brian analyzes in a cheery way, only to be followed with Aaron’s wittiest comeback.
“As did yer Ma’!”
They alternate saying “Wha’?” in thick Irish accents as I snicker along to myself. A few rapid taps on my bicep brings me back to reality, and takes my attention away from the podcast in my ears, to the classroom. I pull the headphone jack out of my iPod so it stops playing and tug the wire so the headphones pop out of my ears.
“What, Lezard?” I groan, casting an annoyed look to my deskmate while hiding the headphones behind my stupid bow. He turns his nose up in the direction of the door. Mutou enters alongside an unfamiliar student. A transfer? In the third year?
“New blood. Let’s hope this one is a little less pedestrian.” His pompous drone makes me wince. He’s a right pretentious twat and I can’t believe I have to have him right next to me all the time.. Why couldn’t I get someone nice like Kyokan? Hell, I’d even take Arai. He’s a bit much but at least he doesn’t pretend to better than everyone else.
“Maybe if you took that silver spoon out your arse you wouldn’t find us all so frightfully boring!” I mock him in my posho accent, placing a splayed hand against my chest in feigned indignity. His right eye twitches at me and he turns away.
The sheepish new boy comes to a stop at the head of the class, glancing around the classroom as Mutou does his introductory spiel. His eyes drift around the room, eventually making their way to me. I give him a little nod and his eyebrows flicker in confusion as his gaze drops below my desk.
“…please welcome our newest classmate.” Mutou finishes and begins clapping, signalling for the rest of us to do so. It dies off pretty quickly and everyone waits on the new guy to make a first impression.
“So… I’m Hisao Nakai.”
Mutou got his bloody name wrong too? I can relate to that; Mutou pronounced my surname as ‘Kappa’. It took weeks to correct my new classmates. Nakai says he likes reading, which perks up Lezard and Suzu, and football, which gets Haruhiko’s attention. That won’t last long. That lad’s too flighty to keep his attention on Nakai for longer than this period, guaranteed. As I’m leaning back on my chair to look at the rest of the class’s reactions, I see the waggling finger of Hakamichi.
[Pay attention.] She signs and I mouth the words ‘Get fucked’ clearly with an amused sneer. She bristles at my insult but doesn’t have a chance to sign anything back before Misha waves her hand excitedly at the new boy. Group work? Fuck’s sake… I don’t know whose got the shorter end of the stick. Me or Nakai.
It’s not until the next day’s group session that I finally get a chance to interact with Nakai, albeit briefly. I peek over my right shoulder at the new guy and, as expected, he’s completely overwhelmed - both by his new environment and by getting saddled with two of the most intense personalities in the class. He yawns loudly, looking proper fed-up. I look around to check where Mutou is and spot him clear across the room helping the trio of Komaki, Kyokan, and Kawana.
I pull my old, battered Pepsi Max pencil case out from under the desk and turn sideways in my chair, my back to the rest of the classroom. The soft zipper noise opening the can-shaped novelty draws Nakai’s attention to me. He goes to say hello but the flick of my wrist and the Kit-Kat skidding across the desk to him stops him in his tracks.
“You’re flagging, mate. Get that down you and you’ll be right as rain.” I offer with a knowing nod towards the chocolate bar. A little sugar rush will help him through the last leg of the day.
“Um, thank you…” He trails off, sheepishly realising he doesn’t know my name. Instead, he gingerly plucks the Kit-Kat off the table and carefully unwraps it, taking a bite out of both fingers at the same time. An absolute savage, this lad.
“Kapur. Molly Kapur.”
“Mocchan!” Misha loudly whispers, leaning toward me with a grin. I hate that she does that to people’s names. “You know you shouldn’t have candy in class! Did you at least bring enough for me~?”
I sigh and look in my secret snack stash. Sure enough, there’s one left. I proffer it towards Misha but as just her greedy hands are in reach, I pull it away. “You know the deal, Misha.”
“Right, right! Sorry, Molly~!” That’s better. As I swing my arm round to her again, I catch sight of Hakamichi glaring a hole through me. I stop just short Misha’s reach again and smirk; first at the class rep, and then at her loyal lap dog.
“Aaaaand? What do we say about tyrants, Misha?” I ask with a teasing inflection to my voice, like a master asking for her dog’s paw.
“Do I have to?” She asks quietly with a cute, pleading look - glancing sideways to the fuming Hakamichi then back at me. I look at her expectantly and she’s clearly conflicted between towing the Student Council line and wanting a delicious treat. C’mon, Misha, don’t let me down.
“…Sic semper tyrannis.” She finally announces, deflated, and I reward her gladly. Not only because it makes Hakamichi silently seethe but it amuses Nakai a little, as bewildered by my little game as he is. I turn back to my desk, good deeds done for the moment, and feel a tap on the back of my chair.
“Thank you, Kapur. Just what I needed.” Nakai whispers. I throw him a thumbs-up behind the back of my chair and continue with picking up Suzu’s slack.
“Miss Kapur, may I see you for a moment?” Mr Mutou inquires as I finish stuffing my books into my backpack. Bloody hell, what did I do now? Nakai casts a glance backwards as he exits the door and I give him a ‘here we go again’ roll of my eyes.
“Yes, sir?” I ask, stepping out from the front row of desks and standing to attention in front of Mutou, who leans forward to push himself up from his knees. He’s a lanky streak of piss and pretty scruffy but not nearly as bad as some of the other teachers here. Though he does have his moments.
“I need to remind you that food and drink are not to be consumed during class time, Miss Kapur.” He looks down at me but not with an overly-stern expression or tone. More tired. Mate, same. Especially with this song and dance.
“This is just a pencil case, sir.” I offering up my pencil case. I know full well this isn’t going to work but it’s worth a try.
“I know that’s a pencil case, Miss Kapur. The candy bars that were inside are why we’re having this chat. Again.”
“I was just helping a fellow student who was struggling to keep their energy up.” I state plainly and his eyebrows curl downwards.
“Who was it that was struggling, Molly?”
“I’m not a grass; unlike the person who dobbed me in…” I roll my eyes as I fold my arms defensively. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out who’d have a problem with me bending the rules.
“No one told on you, Miss Kapur. Your desk is literally in front of mine. I can see when you’re up to something. Even if you turn your back.” Ah, bollocks.
“Can’t you let this one slide, sir? I mean… I was only helping out someone I thought was thrown to the wolves without so much as a word of warning.” I say pointedly but vague enough as to not accuse Mutou of being a shit teacher. Which he can be. But only sometimes.
“So, you were looking out for Mr Nakai…” He says, pinching the bridge of his nose. I shrug in response, playing dumb. “Okay, I’m allowing it this once because it’s rare to see this sort of unsolicited camaraderie from you. I’m sure he appreciated the help.”
He smiles a little, to which I raise my eyebrows as I close my eyes and tilt my head. A real ‘yeah, maybe’ kind of look.
“Was there anything else, sir?” I ask, returning my hands behind my back, at attention. Old habits die hard.
“No, Kapur, that will be all. Just be sure to keep any food in your bag during class from now on and, since you seem so inclined, please continue to assist Nakai.” He nods sagely and I bow, more out of habit than respect.
“Yes, sir.” I say curtly, grabbing my bag and swinging it in an arc that slips the straps onto my shoulders easily. I leave the oppressive confines of the classroom only to be met with an equally oppressive atmosphere as the Student Council, along with Nakai, lurk near the stairs. I stare blankly at them for a second as I fish my headphones out of from behind my bow and pop them into my ears.
I turn on my heels and decide the long way round is preferable to another bollocking. I hear something muffled behind me as I plug the jack back into my iPod and resume playing my podcasts from where they stopped during lunch. Blocking out the world with my own kind of noise proves ineffective as I’m soon flanked, and stopped in my tracks, by the Student Council. No bloody courtesy…
I can only be amused as Shizune’s signing and Misha’s mouth almost sync with the two Cabin Fever hosts. It’s kind of a funny visual as the two Japanese girls seem to speak-slash-sign with Irish piss-taking banter. If only. I gesture to my earphones and mime like I can’t understand them, turning again to see Nakai looking a little amused at my antics.
At the very least, I’ve given the new guy some amusement. I shake my head, with a bit of ‘what are they like?’ energy about it, as I manoeuvre around the boy intent on my original direction; the library. The Student Council do not follow, luckily for them. I take up my usual spot at one of the desks at the end of the aisles. Where the mid-afternoon sun beams in just right.
I look around as I retrieve my homework and pencil case from my bag and throw them onto the desk with a noticeable clatter. Not a peep of protest. Guess no one is here, after all. Not even Ikezawa, which is odd for her - and that’s saying something. No, I shouldn’t make fun of her, she’s clearly damaged.
Then again, aren’t we all? Well, maybe not Misha. Not physically, at least. Maybe not Nakai, either. He didn’t have an obvious quirk to him. Fuck knows… Must be some transfer kid empathy that has me thinking about him.
I begin Ms Miyagi’s English assignment knowing it’ll be a breeze to do while I catch-up on the newest podcasts I’ve downloaded. Languages are my thing but studying my native language? They may as well give me top marks right now. It’s about an hour and change before I notice another solitary soul wandering through the stacks and it’s the new lad! He wasn’t lying about being a big reader then.
Nakai spots me and gives a nod - which I return with a two-finger salute from my forehead as he disappears towards the reading nook in the back. Minutes pass and a violet streak of motion bolts past my vision. Ah, there’s Ikezawa. Aaaand there goes Nakai, looking rather embarrassed. I stick my pinkies in my mouth and whistle, making him flinch, his head snapping in my direction.
“Don’t chase her; you’ll only die tired.” I call out, and his eyes become huge in… fear? As if it’s an actual possibility. Hm. He seems to shake his head free of the thought and continues on his way. Alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Based acceleration alone, Ikezawa could be on the track team…
After another three soft pats of flesh meeting plastic, I roll my shoulders and brace myself for the next flurry. “Again!”
Pap-pap-pap. “So what do you think of him?” Ikuno Komaki asks. Ever-curious, especially after I told her about our interactions.
“Again with a back fist! He seems alright. Not really had a chance to chat.” I respond, shrugging as Ikuno bops the punch mitts a few more times before twirling and knocking my hand away with the last. She’s getting stronger.
The rest of the week passed without many more interactions with the new lad. He always seemed busy with someone. Like vultures circling a fresh carcass. I should have warned him about some of the others, especially the tyrant and her lap dog. Unfortunately though, Mutou made sure Hisao was saddled with them for the foreseeable.
“Again!” I command and Ikuno obeys, throwing yet another three swift strikes at the pads on my raised hands but surprises me by pushing forward and throwing an unexpected uppercut in between the pads. Cheeky cow! The smirk on her face soon disappears as I lean back to avoid the cheap shot and clap both sides of her face with the punch mitts.
“Who taught you to fight dirty, Komaki?” I sneer, pushing her in the chest to put some distance between us. She cranes her neck from left to right before smiling sweetly, like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
“You did, Molly-Pop!” Ikuno squares up again, ready for the next sequence.
“Clearly not well enough. Again!” I encourage.
“Try to remember the basics of CQC!” I hear a voice call behind me and, stupidly, I react to it. I turn my head just enough to see Akio Hayashi approach the garden before I’m clocked in the jaw and sent spilling onto the grass.
“Oh shit!” Komaki is quick to pull me up onto my knees and make a fuss of me. Her blue eyes are wide in shock as she gingerly reaches for my face. “Are you okay, Molly-Pop?”
I snort with amusement as I push the mitt against my jaw and make it crack like a knuckle, the soft pop echoing out of my pursed lips - much to Komaki’s horror. She’s such a girly-girl but she got me good, I have to admit. She really is a lot stronger. I would say I’m surprised how well she took to these little self-defence lessons but knowing how much she needed them… Well.
“Ahhhh, that’s better. Nice straight, Ikuno.” I compliment before tearing the Velcro strap off my right wrist. I angrily throw my arm towards Hayashi, flinging the mitt off my hand at him. “As for you, you wanker!”
“Whoa! It’s not like I hit you!” Akio protests as the mitt bounces off him.
“How about I hit you next?” Ikuno’s concern for me soon turns to ire toward the redhead as she helps me back onto my feet. Good girl. Ikuno steps away from me to give Akio shit and I couldn’t be prouder. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Hisao and Emi Ibarazaki trot up with paint in their hands.
“You okay, Molly?” Hisao steps ahead of the track star with a wince. “That looked pretty bad.”
“Nah, she took it like a champ.” I will say one thing for Ibarazaki; she’s always encouraging. Chipper to the point of annoying but a positive attitude isn’t the worst thing to have.
“It’s fine.” I smirk, tearing off the other pad. “Head!” The mitt sails towards Akio’s face as Ikuno moves out of the way, bouncing off him with a satisfying sound. He curses at me while I turn back to Hisao.
“As for what we were doing; I’ve been teaching Ikuno some basic self-defence.” I gesture to the girl stepping up beside him.
“I’m Ikuno.” She smiles, swaying her arms in front of her coyly. Jaysus… Not again.
“Hisao; nice to meet you.”
“Ikuno, you’re looking a little thirsty. Can you grab our drinks out of my bag?” I say pointedly and she pouts at me. Hisao, seemingly oblivious to what I’m suggesting, smiles as Emi gets a devious look in her eye. She gets it.
“Is this something you do often?” Hisao asks.
“Beating up her classmates? Yeah, pretty much. Here’s your mitts, Molly-Pop.” Akio answers for me, forcing the mitts into my hands.
“Only Ikuno gets to call me that and I only beat up my classmates when they’re being tossers, Hayashi!”
“What does that mean?” Hisao furrows his brow in confusion, looking at Akio.
“It’s one of her British words. I don’t get half of what she says and I speak English pretty well.” He gives Hisao a wilting look while gesturing to me. Alright, don’t be an arsehole, Akio.
“You speak American English, not proper English.” I deride Akio’s supposed language skills before explaining to Hisao.
“Whatever.” Akio mutters.
“Tosser is another way of calling someone a jerk-off.” I explain, complete with the hand motion to cement what I mean. Both Hisao and Emi blush at the mime and Akio smirks.
“Such a beautiful language.” He jokes as Ikuno returns with a bottle of water and my towel. As I wipe the sweat from my forehead and the grass stains for my arms and thighs, Ikuno focuses her attention solely on Hisao once more.
“Hi, Emi! What are you guys up to?” She asks, her gaze locked on the new lad. I side-eye Akio and he’s seen it too, shaking his head as he dismisses her actions with a wave.
“Just grabbing some paint for Rin!” Emi bounces in place, a sure sign she’s getting impatient standing around.
“And apparently I’m gonna start running with Emi.” Hisao sighs, defeated. Pfft! My water sprays all over the grass as I double-over laughing.
“Oh, bloody hell! That’s a good one!” I wheeze, looking at an insulted Hisao. “What? I’ve seen you run, Hisao. Forget Hanako, chasing this one will actually kill you.”
“You don’t have to be so mean, Kapur!” Emi bristles but I noticed Hisao’s reaction more. It’s the same as what he had in the library. He’s scared.
“If you want to exercise, you could always join us?” Ikuno suggests, looking to me with big, pleading eyes for permission.
“Boxing isn’t a good exercise for Hisao.” Emi dismisses with a huff.
“It’s not just boxing, it’s mixed martial arts!” Ikuno jabs back.
“And running won’t give you abs like these.” I tease, lifting up my tank top. Again the pair blush but this time Emi tugs at Hisao’s arm, gaining his attention.
“Okay, enough navel-gazing! Rin needs her paint! Hope you guys come see her mural during the festival!” Emi calls, dragging poor Hisao along behind her.
“He seems nice…” Ikuno wistfully sighs as I push the punch mitts into her hands. I need to get her mind off that boy sharpish.
“Stand to, Komaki. Training’s not done.”
“Awww, can’t Akio take over?” She whines, our resident redheaded rascal holding his hands up in protest.
“Sorry, I’ve got fragile bird bones.”
The day of the festival is just as busy as last year. Students, parents, and folks who clearly didn’t know what kind of school this was when they were told about a festival; the gawkers.
I get my fair share of curious looks as I make my way throw the throngs of bodies toward the food stalls where I’m meant to meet Komaki. It’d be bad enough if they were just staring at my legs but more than a couple are looking my face - at the skin not covered by my uniform.
Mum said it’d be better here than it was back home but stares are the same in any language and it pisses me right off. I bob my head menacingly toward a middle-aged woman who turned her nose up at me, shocking her into turning away.
I continue to mean-mug the woman until she’s out of sight then turn my attention to the stalls. The sounds and smells of frying food mingled with an excited crowd reminds me of the annual fair back home. Gods, I hope they’re making fresh donuts this year. Above the din and between passing bodies, I see, and hear, something that catches my interest.
“...fine the way it is! Mostly.”
“I doubt that. You wouldn’t be here if that was the case, would you?”
“It’s not that bad of a heart! Certainly it can handle a little grease now and again!” A heart condition? Bloody hell, Hisao. Guess that explains a lot.
The animated argument between Hisao and Emi is almost laughable as the tiny track star holds Hisao’s food hostage. I creep up behind her and pluck the food out of the hand holding it away from Hisao; pirouetting around the shocked girl and sidling up to Hisao.
“You two doing dinner and a show? Because it’s probably better than whatever the theatre club’s doing.” I joke, handing the greasy goods back to Hisao, much to Emi’s dismay.
“Molly! Don’t encourage him! He’s got a…” She stops herself and I side-eye Hisao who has a face on him that’s telling her to shut the fuck up.
“Unclench, Hisao, I already overheard.” I elbow his arm with a sympathetic smile. “And mum’s the word until you’re comfortable telling folks.”
He seems to consider my words for a second before breathing a small sigh of relief. “Thanks, Molly. It’s still new to me.”
“Which is why he shouldn’t be eating that crap!” Emi lunges forward and I plant my palm on her forehead, stopping her at arms length as she flails uselessly.
“You’re such a butt, Molly!”
“You seen Ikuno about?” I ask casually whilst Hisao tucks into his karaage, pushing Emi back.
“Moh, sorreh.” He shakes his head, a smile pushing up his stuffed cheeks.
“At least don’t talk with your mouth full, Hisao!” Emi pouts cutely.
“Here, giz a bang on that.” I tear a piece off one of the fried chicken chunks and pop it in my mouth. “Mmmoh yeah, you made the right choice, Hisao. That’s gorgeous!”
“Ugh, fine! Give me a piece, Hisao.” Emi offers her hand out adamantly and he pulls the skewer in a cup away. Whilst they play fight some more I look around to see if I can find my friend. Even amongst the uniformed students, I can’t see hide nor hair of her.
“Where the bloody hell is she?” I mutter to no one in particular but the answer comes from the lips of another of my classmates.
“Looking for Ikuno?” Shinnosuke Kyokan asks. The neatly combed silver fox appears with his paramour, Misaki Kawana, draped on his arm.
“We saw her talking to some boys earlier.” Kawana points off towards the main building. “I think they were asking for directions.”
“So they weren’t students?” I frown and the pair shake their heads in unison. “Bollocks.”
“What’s wrong?” Hisao asks, throwing his cup in the trash as I start to head in that direction.
“It’s probably nothing…” I hope it’s nothing but I can’t help but have a bad feeling about it. Something in my gut's gnawing at me to go find her.
“Doesn’t sound like nothing.” Emi interjects and I notice both pairs looking at me oddly. At least half of them would understand my concern, even if it's unfounded.
“I just don’t want a repeat of Lamperouge.” I grimace, Kyokan and Kawana immediately getting my meaning.
“We’ll find Arai.” Kyokan nods with solemn determination, a serious face replacing his usual pleasant smile. He wasn’t here for it but he found out through Kawana. I’m glad he’s here now instead of him.
“Cheers, Shin.” I turn to the track star. “Emi, do you think you can find Miura?”
“Uh, I guess. Why?” She hops a little in place, ready to take off.
“Just say the word Lamperouge and tell her where I’m going. She’ll know what it means. Off you pop, quick as you can!” I order and she smirks, taking off as quick as her regular prosthetics will allow. I follow suit and split off towards the main building, Hisao following.
“I, uh, guess I’ll go with you. You didn’t tell me what to do so…” He offers a crooked smile and I simply nod. He keeps pace with my light jog through the crowds, earning a couple interested glances. I pay them no attention as every worst case scenario runs through my head.
“I’m guessing Lamperouge, whatever that means, is bad? Is it a British thing?” Hisao huffs just behind me. I hope he’s not pushing himself too hard, I can only deal with one problem at a time.
“No, Hisao, it’s a name. A very bad name.” I spit as we reach the main building and find no trace of her. Damn it! Where are you, girl? Luckily, reinforcements arrive in the shapely forms of Miki Miura and Taro Arai from opposite directions.
“You gonna be alright, tons-of-fun?” Miura pats the portly boy’s back tenderly.
“Just need… A second…” Arai leans on his knee with his good arm, sweating through his white shirt.
“Thanks for coming, guys. I want to be wrong but-”
“Say no more, Molls. None of us want a repeat of…” She trails off when she makes eye contact with Hisao. “The fuck are you doing here, new guy?”
“Um, helping, I guess?” He says, a little unsure as he looks tp me.
“And it’s appreciated, mate.” I give him a warm nod, beginning to untie my stupid bow. “This was the last place Ikuno was spotted with two randos so if you two can check inside?”
“On it. I go high?” Miura says to Arai as he straightens up.
“I’ll go low. Meet you in the middle.” He affirms, giving me a little salute as the pair head into the building. Glad I still have them to rely on.
“You’re with me, we’re checking the outside.” I state, tossing away my bow, which Hisao plucks off the ground. He follows and I start to unbutton my blouse.
“Um, do you want me to do anything other than, I assume, hold your clothes?” He asks, blushing. We round the corner, along the thin concrete path that surrounds the main building. Woulda been too easy if she was right here, probably somewhere round the back.
“You handy? Y’know, in a fight? With your heart and all?” I question, stripping the blouse off my shoulders, revealing the black tank top beneath, and tossing it over to Hisao as I roll my shoulders and crack my neck.
“Are y-you expecting a f-fight?” He struggles to talk, walk, and fold my blouse for me.
“I always expect a fight, Hisao.” I crack each of my knuckles in sequence to settle my nerves as we reach the rear corner of the building. “Yamaku sometimes has trouble with townies who love to make the trip up here and cause trouble. Wrecking stuff, harassing folks, generally being arseholes. We had some during the festival last year and a few during winter break.”
“What? Who’d do that?”
“Like I said; arseholes. Normie kids who think they can come round here and punch downwards. Unlucky for them; some of us punch back.”
“Why don’t we just tell security?” He asks meekly and I stop in my tracks, wheeling on him with a finger in his face
“One thing you need to learn about Yamaku is that we look after our own. Most of the adults - the teachers, the rent-a-cops, whoever-the-fuck - you can’t rely on them for anything. Got that?” I continue on my way as Hisao continues bleating.
“Aren’t they here to help us, though?” Oh, Hisao… You’re so bloody naïve…
“They didn’t last time someone tried to hurt Komaki.” I growl. “That’s why we have to look after each other.”
As we come up on one of the alcoves where an emergency exit lets out, I hear Ikuno’s voice.
“I r-really think I should get b-back to the festival, my friend’s waiting for me.” Ikuno cowers into the corner as two guys loom over her.
“Aw, come ooooon, babe! We can have fun right here!” They have to be in their twenties at least. Fucking scumbags. This has to be awful for Ikuno, just more trauma on top of the existing shit.
“Yeah, what’s your friend got that we ain’t, huh?” I signal for Hisao to stay back as I stride forward.
“Titanium legs and a fucking attitude problem!” I announce with a growl, making sure Ikuno knows I’m here to save her again.
“Who the fuck is this dyke? You two-timing us, babe?” One of them, the shorter one, grabs her arm as he laughs at me.
“Get off her, dickhead!” I snarl in English, charging forward. The taller of the two steps to me with a stupid grin and says something unfavourable about my skin tone in his native tongue. I return favour by dropping him with a swift kick in the balls and a colourful epitaph in my own. “Stay the fuck down, you nonce.”
I turn my attention to the other just as Ikuno manages to wrestle her arm free and push him over with a mighty shove. She looks at her hands for a second, finally realising how strong she’s gotten, before running over to me.
“M-Molly-Pop! Th-thank you!” Her voice quivers as she clings to my shoulders on the verge of tears.
“S’okay, Ikuno… We’re here.” I pat her back, watching the short one get up again with a scowl. “Hisao came to help. Go say hi, Ikuno.” I whisper and gesture behind me as her face lights up a little.
“Oh, o-okay.” She slips away from me and I hear a tiny “Hi, H-Hisao” behind me. There’s no way I can stop her fixating on him now… Her hero. The smile is knocked off my face as the guy I should have been focusing on clocks me.
“Fuck!” I think I bit my cheek. I really need to stop getting distracted. I spit the blood pooling in my cheek out onto the cracked concrete and take a few swinging misses before connecting with a kick to the thorax; sending him reeling back against the fire exit door.
“Take your friend and get the fuck out of my school before I really hurt you.” I threaten, taking up a southpaw stance.
“Fuck you, you …” He calls me a word that I don’t recognise at all. Thought I knew all the Japanese slurs… Hm. The fire exit door suddenly is kicked open from the inside with a cacophonous clatter, sending the guy spilling forward into a right cross from me. He crumples to the splintered concrete in a heap.
“Aw come on, Molls! You couldn’t have left one for me?” Miura laments, stepping out of the door, followed by a sweaty Arai.
“Sorry, Miki.” I shrug as the first guy begins to stir with a groan. “Looks like that one’s not quite done and he doesn’t appreciate girls with darker skin.”
“Oh shit, for real? That true, buddy?” Miki menaces the tall guy as he stumbles back onto his feet and into the solid wall of mass that is Taro Arai.
“You shouldn’t judge people like that, pal. It’s not nice.” Taro grins with a bassy growl.
The guy makes a noise like a scared, wounded animal as he pushes past the two and tries to pull his groggy friend up onto his feet. “C’mon man, we need to get the fuck out of here, these freaks’re crazy!”
As the three of us close-in, he gives up; abandoning his groggy friend and bolting around us and past the corner of the building, disappearing from sight.
“That is not a good friend. Not at all.” Taro tuts with a disappointed tone, shaking his head.
“You alive, shitbag?” Miki asks, kicking the guy who was left behind. He rolls onto his back with a pained groan.
“M’sorry…” He mutters, quietly. Oh, you will be…
“Taro, you got a marker on you?” I ask the one-armed artist and he fishes around in his slacks with a ponderous expression, retrieving a black sharpie pen from his rear pocket.
“Only this permanent one I was using for signs this morning.”
“Perfect.” I grin, snatching it out of his meaty mitt. I lean on the guy’s chest and grab his face in a left-handed vice-grip. I stick my tongue out of the corner of my mouth as I careful begin writing on his forehead, his eyes wide in fear. The marker is thick but with a few light, quick strokes, I manage to write the characters for ‘molester’.
I toss the pen back to Arai, who fumbles catching it. Luckily Miki is on hand to catch it for him and offer it back with wry smile.
“Now, you’re gonna piss off back down your own end and if I ever catch sight of you again… I’ll kill you. Okay?” I ask in a cheery voice as I slap his face a twice like a Mafioso. I get up, dusting off the knee plates of my prosthetics.
We leave the guy whimpering on the ground and round the corner to find Hisao and Ikuno; the latter helping him fold my blouse properly.
“See, like this.” She smiles, almost like nothing ever happened. I worry how much she’s actively suppressing and how much is her natural flighty nature just losing interest in ‘the bad stuff’. Fuck knows, I'm not a psychologist.
“It’s the puffy shoulders, I just don’t get-hey. Is, uh, everything okay?” Hisao looks concerned and I wave him off.
“Nah, all sorted. Bish-bash-bosh!” I dust my hands, satsified.
“Did you see how hard I pushed that guy?” Ikuno beams, excitedly bouncing after passing my uniform bits to Hisao. “Your training’s paid off!”
I give her a little smile and a pat on the shoulder. “You sure did, Ikuno. Good job.”
“Hey, Ikuno, did you see the mural? Taro helped Rin paint it.” Miki takes her by the shoulders and keeps her walking alongside Taro.
“I didn’t help that much…”
As they walk ahead I turn to Hisao, holding out my hands. He gives me the rest of my uniform and I shake it out of the neat square it was folded into.
“That took forever to fold…” He laments as I slip the blouse on and dangle the bow haphazardly around my neck, offering my arms out.
“How do I look, Hisao?”
“Like you just got into a fight.” He winces, looking at the mark on my cheek. It’s still tender but it’s fine. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Helluva day.” I half-sigh, half-chuckle. “Listen, mate, I appreciate you coming along and looking after Ikuno while I, y’know…”
“Glad I could help. Honestly, I think this is more excitement than I was really expecting.” He offers, ruefully rubbing the back of his neck.
“You’d be surprised how hairy it gets sometimes.”
“I guess. Is Ikuno gonna be okay? And what about those guys? I saw one run off but the other…”
“I think they learned their lesson. And Ikuno is… Well, you’ve met her.”
“Yeah, she’s… Interesting?” He gives me an unsure look and I bop his arm lightly.
“She’s a bit wappy, that one. She’s sweet on you though.”
“R-Really?” He asks. I shake my head at the dense lad and push him forwards.
“And hey, ‘cause I didn’t get to say it before…” I offer up my fist and, after a moment, he bumps it with his own. “Welcome to Yamaku Academy, Hisao.”
I hope you survive the experience.
Author's Notes: Much like a lot of my writing recently, I had an idea and wrote like 6k words about it. A little bit of a different take on the Mollies I've written before, a little bit of a harder edge. Might be the pilot for something I do post-Flutter but for now I hope you folks enjoy it.
