The Punch(es)

He could taste blood in his mouth. When he coughed, his saliva was mixed with blood. He looked up at the man in front of him with their hands in their pockets, like they hadn't punched the crap out of him.

"You're nothing but a pretty face." He spat out when the male started approaching him.

The black-haired male stopped in his tracks. His eyebrows were raised, and his lips curled up in mock-amusement. "You think I'm pretty?"

"Screw. You."

Remy snorted and stopped in front of him. "Please, Malcolm." He extended a hand and Malcolm looked at it with spite. "Don't be stupid."

"You punched me." He said through gritted teeth. "Why the hell would you help me?"

"I don't hate you." Malcolm opened his mouth to argue, but Remy beat him to it. Like how he beat him to the punch. "I did, however, punched you. Several times. But all for good reason."

"Get lost."

Remy sighed and grabbed his arm instead, then forcefully yanking him to his feet. "Come on."

Malcolm stood still as a rock. "No."

"Malcolm."

"Like I said, screw you."

Remy clicked his tongue and turned on his heel. "Do as you please then. I'll be sure to tell the Headmaster that you're not cooperating."

"Cooperating with what?!" There was more blood so he spat it out. His hand was still clutching his stomach where Remy had punched him earlier beside his face. "With you punching me?!"

The black-haired male wasn't baited. His voice was level and his expression hadn't changed - it was still that annoyed look. Like he was with a child who refused to go to bed even though it was past their bedtime and had instead started throwing a tantrum.

Malcolm felt like a child under his gaze. Not that he would ever admit it.

"I'm going back to report." Remy brushed off invisible dust from his shoulder, then fixed the silver buttons on his jacket, although there wasn't really anything to fix. They had stayed nice and in place even after he threw punches at Malcolm, even after Malcolm grabbed at it.

He wouldn't be surprised if Remy had somehow made it stay in place with his element.

He cared for his appearance so much. That stupid, narcissistic bastard.

"Perhaps after you can think clearly again, you can go back to headquarters and give the Medic some more job to do. Like you've always done." His hair was tied with a ribbon in a low ponytail which reached down to the square of his back.

When he turned away, his hair moved behind him. And with each step he walked, it swayed from side to side elegantly.

Malcolm had thought of burning his hair on more than one occasion.

"The information about the Kingsley pub appears to be a hoax." Remy said, setting down the documents he had recently filled in. "There wasn't anyone who looked like they're a part of the Carcerem. The details are in here."

The Headmaster flipped through the documents. He had a hood on on top of a white mask which covered the top half of his face. "Thank you, Remy."

The black-haired nodded. If he was curious about the Headmaster's face, he didn't show it. "Are there any new leads?"

The lips curled up and he set down the papers to look at the young man standing before him. "You're very eager."

"With all due respect, Headmaster," he clasped his hands behind his back, "we need to capture them as fast as we can. The public are going restless. Rumors have been spreading around like wildfire, even if we try to contain it."

"Speaking of fire, where is your partner?"

Remy's eye twitched slightly. "With the medic, I assume."

"You assume?"

"Headmaster, please." He pressed his palms onto the table, leaning in. "You have to reassign my partner. He is not suited for this job."

"Is he now?" He sounded amused.

"Yes." Remy stood up straight again, "He is far too emotional and does not do well in pretending. We may have been lucky so far, but if he refuses to change, it can impact our future operations."

The Headmaster chuckled and smiled up at the younger male. "That is exactly why I paired him with you. Among the newest Dalta recruits, you are the one who's most composed and have everything under control."

Remy's eye twitched again. He may have graduated as the valedictorian of his year and continued to stay at the very top in every Dalta's warrior training, but it was too much to partner him up with Malcolm, who was very different.

Remy used logic, Malcolm used his fists.

Remy used his element first thing into a fight, Malcolm saved it up until the very end.

"It's more effective to finish them off quickly."

"It's more cruel to finish them off like that."

"We have a lot of work besides catching these small fries."

"Our work is to protect civilians."

"They're criminals."

"Still civilians."

The most annoying thing of all, they argue. Constantly. Their point of view, their beliefs, and pretty much everything else were on opposite ends with the other. It made them bicker and fought each other. In fact, it always felt like they were in a fight, even if they hadn't done anything but enter the same room.

"He's not that bad." Remy chose to look at the stack of papers instead of the man before him. "He was fifth in my year. That should be enough to partner him up with someone of the lower tier."

"I need every single member of the Dalta who have the best capabilities in controlling their element for this."

The long-haired male pressed his lips into a line. The Headmaster was right, but Remy still wanted another partner. But he didn't say anything else. Arguing at this point wouldn't only be pointless, it would show his lack of maturity and professionalism.

And he didn't want that.

The door swung open a second after the knock. "Headmaster," Malcolm gave a quick bow before covering the space between the door and Remy's side in quick strides. "Sorry that I haven't reported, I was in the medic bay." Remy snorted and Malcolm threw a glare at his direction. "I got injured by a certain someone during our mission."

"Yes," the Headmaster chuckled again, "won't you two be nicer to each other? Try not to give the medic too much work." Then he patted the documents on the table. "Also, don't worry about the report. Remy already submitted the paperwork and told me everything."

"Did he mention that he was the reason I had to go to the medic?" Malcolm asked with spite, still glaring at his partner. Remy, on the other hand, looked away from him in ignorance.

"Yes. He did say that that was the only way to keep you two from being exposed. I also heard that you nearly blew your cover again, Malcolm."

Malcolm whipped his head back to their leader with panic in his eyes. "Headmaster, I can explain! It was... Remy was dissing Dalta!"

The masked man turned towards Remy. "Well?"

"They had to believe that we were on their side. That we're traitors." Remy met his gaze head-on. "It was the only way to obtain information."

"That's such crap!" Malcolm argued. "We could've just brought them back here and put them in prison!"

"They're the type to choose death over opening up to the likes of us."

"That's-"

"The truth." The Headmaster cut him off. "Did you obtain any information afterwards?"

Remy nodded. "That's how I knew the Kingsley was a trap. Also, I found out that some of those who wants to join Carcarem are going to have a meeting soon, although I don't know the location."

"Well done."

"Thank you, Headmaster."

Malcolm's jaw dropped and he looked from the Headmaster to Remy and then back to the Headmaster again. "You're letting him off like that? He... He scarred Dalta's and Schole's name!"

Remy rolled his eyes. "It's just a lie."

"That is still not acceptable."

There was another knock on the door.

"Come in."

"Headmaster," the girl on the doorway looked at the three of them, then at the floor. She was hugging a bright red folder tightly. "Um, I need to talk to you regarding the Development's research."

"Do you have Samantha's approval? She said that she would discuss it in the Council's meeting."

"Yes! Actually," she shifted her weight from one foot to another, "well, there's something else... So she asked me to bring it up with you immediately... Miss Samantha is still in her lab."

"Hmm, alright. Come in, don't just stand in the doorway." The Headmaster turned to the pair in front of her. "I think it's time for you two to leave. Get some rest. Especially you, Malcolm. Those wounds aren't going to heal if you keep on getting agitated."

"I wouldn't have any wounds to begin with if he hadn't punched me." He muttered under his breath.

Remy just rolled his eyes again.

After a quick bow, they left the Headmaster's office. As soon as the door closed behind them, Malcolm said, "I can't believe he let you off like that."

"I didn't do anything wrong."

"You were talking shit about Schole."

"To get information that we need." Remy turned away and began walking. "If that's all that you have to say, then I'll be going. I have work to do, because unlike someone, there are other things to do aside from going on missions."

Malcolm begrudgingly started walking in the same direction, only a couple steps behind the long-haired male. "Papers are for the Administrative."

"You say that again and you may not get your paycheck."

He clicked his tongue and continued to glare at the back of the other's head. He could burn it. It would be really easy. He could just start at the end of the stupid ponytail and let the flame consume the rest of it, make him bald. Malcolm could feel his lighter in his right pocket and his hand patted it.

"Hey, Remy."

Remy turned around and was in the middle of opening his mouth to say "What?" but was greeted by Malcolm's fist to his jaw. It was like getting hit by lightning, sharp and instant. He staggered back, holding his jaw.

Malcolm stood straight up again, then put his hands in his pockets. His chin was tilted up so he was looking down at his partner. There was a big grin on his face.

"Fuck you, Cinzento." Remy spat out, standing up too with his hand still on his jaw. His eyes were dark and dangerous.

"Payback, Rouge." He walked towards him. "Although I was going easy on you. If I'm a fan of 'an eye for an eye' belief, I would've punched you like, two more times."

After Malcolm walked past him, Remy pivoted and roundhouse kicked him on the back. Malcolm fell forward, hands outstretched to block him from the fall and turned around to see that Remy was standing before him.

The saying 'if looks could kill' never rang truer. His eyes were filled with malice and Malcolm could feel the air around them change. He could see Remy's ponytail moving past his shoulder and his uniform moving too, as if there were strong gusts of wind.

Malcolm instinctively reached for his lighter in his pocket and opened it. "I fucking dare you, Rouge."

"You're not in the position to dare anyone to do anything, Cinzento."

His thumb was on the sparkwheel. "I can dare anyone  I want. Especially if it's you." With a quick motion, the lighter came alive and in a second, their eyes were reflecting the flame.

"What the hell do you two think you're doing?!