1 Who Says You Can't Go Home?

Riding the Express Train felt different than riding the Local.

Saying it makes it feel obvious, but to me, it's odd.

Familiar, but unfamiliar at the same time.

I've only ever taken the Express once in my life and I was way too young at the time to pay any real attention to it.

Riding the Local Train, I remember feeling packed in, crushed sometimes when I couldn't get a seat of my own.

I experienced a sort of intimacy with strangers that people would pay an exorbitant amount for in some real seedy places.

But on the Express Train, I was alone.

Not alone, exactly, but given space.

An empty seat to the side of me, an empty seat to the front.

Across from me, however, was an old man.

His face was craggy, wrinkled all over with a full head of grey hair with a Fu Manchu.

With the white zhi fu and cotton pants that he wore, the man seemed like a typical sifu-type.

The kind that you'd find in any old kung-fu film.

Though, this sifu seemed a lot less… alert than the ones in the movies, seeing as he was in the throes of a very deep sleep.

I could see his chest rise and fall evenly to the light rumble of the tracks.

His rest was peaceful, breathing almost rhythmic in comparison to the sound of the humbug being played on the screens at the far end of the car.

It almost made me jealous.

I hadn't gotten a wink of sleep in what felt like… weeks, maybe?

The past month passed by in a strange blur.

A month of finding movers and throwing away things I didn't need.

Of calling places and asking if they had any vacancies.

Of telling my school that I'd be transferring somewhere new, so they could send my records to my new school.

Moving to a new place was always difficult.

Moving to a childhood home, even more so, for different reasons.

And this time, I was doing it all by myself.

 ⌈Soon arriving at Misano Station. All passengers, we will soon be arriving at Misano Station.⌋

I watched the old man shift, his eyelids cracking open like the entrance to an ancient tomb.

I saw his eyes scan the car, bereft of most people that weren't us.

He'd likely wake up completely by the time we came to a full stop at the station.

Maybe he had a family member picking him up.

Lucky him.

I, however, had a thirty minute walk and then three hours to rest before I had to get ready for school.

 Pi! Pi! Pi!

My phone chimed, the screen lighting up as a notification banner appeared.

A message.

 AoTo Staff: Your virtual ID and Class Schedule are enclosed.

Ah, right.

The lady that I spoke to when I enrolled had explained to me.

"You'll receive the necessary materials on your first day. Your uniform will arrive at the address that your guardian specified."

Well, that was a small weight off of my shoulders.

All I'd have to do in the morning was get dressed and hop on the train to get to school.

That was good.

Honestly, felt like a return to… normal.

Normal was good.

Really good.

 ⌈Now arriving at Misano Station. All passengers, we have now arrived at Misano Station. Welcome to Konmachi.⌋

And that was my cue to get off the train.

As I gathered up my suitcase and backpack, I looked over at where the old man was sitting one more time.

He was nowhere to be found.

 ***

The walk from the station was both overly long and unexpectedly short all at the same time.

A trek and a jaunt in equal measure.

In reality, it was only ten minutes.

To my aching body, it was at least an hour.

By the time I reached my new home, my joints were screaming at me to stop.

The two-story apartment building was run-down, to say the least about it.

It was in a particularly less well-off part of the city.

The rent was cheap, in obvious comparison to other parts of the city, but even then most other people wouldn't want to live there.

It was perfect for me, though.

A ten-minute walk from the station, shower included, and the landlord promised to keep contact to a minimum outside of rent and maintenance.

 Creak! Creak! Creeeeeeeak!

So what if the stairs were rusty and creaked every time I took a step up them?

As long as I kept my pace steady, they likely wouldn't collapse.

It wasn't decrepit, just… woebegone.

Yeah. Yeah, that's a good word.

I found my key taped to the inside of my mailbox.

Exactly where the landlord said he'd leave it.

After that, I just walked in and let go.

My suitcase left to the side of the door, my backpack firmly clasped in my hands, I shambled further in.

It was only a one room apartment, the flooring was nice, hardwood instead of carpet.

I had lost my shoes on my way to the other end of the room.

I'd find them in the morning.

Leaned against the far wall, I saw a garment bag embroidered with a little blue gem.

Looking inside, I found a fresh blazer, colored a nice cobalt blue with a little blue diamond printed on the breast pocket, and a white button-up.

My new uniform.

It was more stylish than my last.

Neat.

My futon didn't arrive.

Not that I cared much, tired as I was.

The cool hardwood was soft enough.

 Thud!

It was as if all my wear from the past month came to bear in a single moment, bringing me to my knees and then flat onto my stomach, cheek pressed against the floor beneath.

Not comfortable in the slightest, but still better than sitting in a taxi or on a train for several hours.

I could feel my eyelids begin to flutter, becoming heavier, harder to keep open.

Slowly, but surely, I could feel myself begin to fall aslee-

 Pi! Pi! Pi!!

My phone sounded from my pocket.

With a groan, I pulled it out, reading the banner that flashed onto the screen.

  7X X63 128X

I didn't recognize the number.

 7X X63 128X: Hey. It's been a while since we talked. I got your number from your da-

 Click!

And just like that, I stopped reading and turned my phone off.

Laying back down, I stared up at the ceiling.

Eager to get my mind off of… things, I thought about my train route.

Let's see. From Misano, I take the train to Tabata. From Tabata, I get off and take the train to Sōtsuka, and then from Sōtsuka, I go all the way to Keiwara.

I had figured all this out around the time that I decided to move in, but it never hurt to go over things like this.

I went over it in my head again and again and again, until I felt my brain begin to fog and my eyelids felt heavy again.

As the dark came along, I only had one thought on my mind.

Were the trains always so complicated here?

 ***

  ⌈Arriving at Keiwara Station.⌋

As it turns out, my feelings about local trains versus express trains were entirely well-founded.

I knew well from my time in Tokyo that the morning rush saw all different sorts of people packed into the small cars of the train, pressed against each other like sardines in a can, or sticks in a small pack of gum.

Nothing to wake you up like a big burly dude bumping into you for the fifth time in a row after the train car shook.

Multiply that by four and you have my new morning commute.

This was my new normal.

Four platforms, four trains, and a lot of shaking and bumping and apologies.

And you know what?

I could deal with that.

If this was what it meant to be a student at Aotoya, I'd wake up at the crack of dawn every morning and get bumped into a hundred times.

That was fine.

What was not fine, however-

"Hey, you! Punkass with the blue hair!"

-was the strange delinquent looking fellow that seemed to be accosting people as they stepped out of the station.

A black gakuran, several piercings in each ear, shaggy blonde hair with bangs that blocked his eyes, and a foul mouth to boot.

Yeah, he was every inch of the stereotypical manga delinquent.

As such, he hadn't a thing to do with me.

There had to be someone else with blue hair behind me.

Yep, made sense. No way that I of all people was being accosted by a wannabe Eikichi Onizuka.

So, ignoring whatever the heck that was, I-

 Grab!

"Hey, cowlick. I'm talkin' to ya."

-ended up being approached and gripped by the shoulder by the blonde punk.

Alright, but why?

When one woke up in the morning and prepared for school, they weren't wont to prepare for immediate confrontation from strangers.

So in truth, should I have expected to be grabbed by the shoulder by a stranger who looked like he walked straight out of a lesser known weekly delinquent serial from Jump?

No.

But there I was.

"Hello. How can I help you?"

I read something once that said the best way to dissolve a hostile situation was politeness.

In response to my civility, budget-Onizuka pulled a nasty sneer.

"I don't like your face. Or your hair. Or your uniform."

The thing I read did not tell me what to do if the hostile person in the hostile situation wasn't just hostile, but an asshole as well.

"Ah, I see. I'm sorry?"

The grip on my shoulder tightened.

"Oh, you're not. But you're about to be!"

He cocked his fist back.

"I'd really rather you didn't do that."

He scoffed, driving his fist forward-

 Woosh!

And missing my face by a mile.

"What the fu-?"

"You should let me go."

"Shut the hell up!"

He punched again-

 Woosh!

Missed again.

"How the hell?!"

"Please stop. I have class."

His face pinked.

"I said shut up!"

  Whoosh! Whoosh! Woosh! Woosh! Woosh!

His fist moved in a flurry, missing my face every time.

It was honestly impressive.

"How the hell are you doing this?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He was punching, he was missing.

That was just the fact of the matter, nothing abnormal there.

Though I would've rather he had moved it along so I could get to school.

"ARRRRGHHHHH!"

My wish was granted as he let go of my shoulder and got into what looked like a boxing stance.

One that, in my humble, not-at-all professional opinion was … pretty shitty.

Don't get me wrong, his fists and arms were guarding the important bits- face and chest- but his hips were tilted, his shoulders weren't squared with mine, and his feet- oh man, his feet- one behind the other, directly in a straight line, front foot raised instead of the rear, not angled at all, and to top it all off, his shoes were untied.

Now like I said before, don't misunderstand me, I'm not a professional.

I'm very much not a fan of fighting in general.

But with the way the guy stanced up, it felt almost like he was trying to miss.

And miss, he did, in spectacular fashion.

Honestly, what a sight to behold as he, with a loud cry, rushed at me and threw a wild haymaker.

A wild haymaker that, like the rest of his punches, went wide of my face.

And if that weren't enough for the poor guy, he ended up tripping over his own untied shoelaces and planting face-first into the pavement.

Ouch…

From an outsider's perspective, I'll admit, it was quite funny.

Face down and ass up on the ground likely wasn't where he expected to be when he stepped to me.

But, as someone who was in the situation, I figured that it couldn't hurt to show the guy some compassion.

So I walked over to the poor fallen delinquent and reached out my hand-

He looked at it, then me, before looking away.

A moment passed in silence before he, without sparing me another glance, took it and got to his feet.

I'm sorry, I lied. Do forgive me.

I'd like to say that after he took it, he realized the error of his ways and became a good friend but… unfortunately, the things we'd like are very rarely the things we get.

Instead what really happened-

"THEY DIDN'T TELL ME THERE WERE GODDAMN MONSTERS AT THIS SCHOOL!"

-he started crying and screaming, scrambled away on hands and knees, and then disappeared into the station.

All while everyone else that was around just… went about their business as though nothing had happened at all.

Huh…

I might've found it strange, if that crybaby delinquent hadn't wasted two full minutes of time that I could've been using to get to class.

So, with the strangeness of that situation behind me, I began rushing for Aotoya Academy.

 ***

As far as high schools go, Aotoya was the biggest one I'd ever seen.

A vast main campus that was around the size of four regular high schools, divided into separate quarters.

North side is for regular classes in the main building- humanities, sciences, the works- and the headmaster's office.

East side is for elective classes- calligraphy, pottery, cooking, flower arrangement, and a number of other things.

South side is for most clubs, a lot of sports-oriented clubs gathered there- karate, boxing, basketball, judo.

And the west side was apparently the old sports building, the one that most of the clubs used before the facilities on the south side opened up.

By the way, all of this information was easily found on the school's website.

I didn't do as much research on the place as I probably should've.

As a matter of fact, I didn't even apply or take an entrance exam to get in.

I just happened to see the name of the place printed on a lot of my dad's old school stuff and looked it up.

When I called to inquire, they offered me admission right away.

On a scholarship, no less.

Seeing as I didn't have any friends at school and my house was feeling a bit… empty, what was I to do but accept?

Though, I guess that that surety only lasted up to the moment that I hit the third floor, where all of the classes for the first years were.

There was something… unnerving about how quiet it was.

Classes hadn't started, but the halls were empty.

The only sound I heard was the echoing of my footsteps against the linoleum.

 Step!

 Step!

 Step!

Class 1-5. Class 1-5. Class 1-5…

The hall seemed to stretch, step-by-step, room-by-room.

Passing Class 1-1, the walk seemed longer to 1-2.

From 1-2, my strides felt shorter all the way to 1-3.

From 1-3, my breath felt shallower and shallower on the advance to 1-4.

And from 1-4, my heart beat a thunderous and unruly rhythm, off tempo against the tap of my steps.

I could see it.

The sign protruding from the wall, telling me that I was getting ever so close.

1-5.

The walk that shouldn't have felt so long came to an end as soon as I reached the first of the two sliding doors leading into the classroom.

The silence faded, quickly replaced by murmurs and chitters on the other side of the door.

This was my new class.

These were the people I'd be getting to know over the course of the next three years.

They'd already had a couple of months to get to know each other, but I was an unknown.

Could I just stroll in, with a fresh-pressed uniform and this annoying cowlick stood at attention, and ask to be part of a friend group?

No, right?

In high school, at the two month mark, that's when most friendships and dynamics are pretty much set.

It's like writing your initials in half dried cement.

You'll make an impression, but people would likely call you an asshole for it.

So just strolling up to some people and arrogantly asking for them to let me into their dynamic seemed like a good way to end up ostracized on my first day.

Not only did I not know the individual group dynamics, but I also had no idea about the general vibe in the class.

Was everyone studious?

Were they sporty?

Did they like video games? Manga?

How was I to get close to anyone when-

"What do you think you're doing there?"

A deep voice, smooth as you like but oddly intense, spoke up from beside me.

"H-huh?"

My gaze shot to the side and landed on the owner of that voice.

He was an older looking man, with sharp features and a lithe, but solid frame.

His hair was almost entirely silver with streaks of black appearing every so often and he had a ponytail that hung over his shoulder, though the sides of his head were shaved.

But the most striking feature was the scar directly over his closed left eye.

"Well, you gonna answer me? Or are we gonna hafta take this outside? You're wearing our school's uniform, but you don't have the face of one of my students."

Huh?

Realizing that I had just been staring at this man for a good few seconds, I quickly found my voice.

"U-uh, yes. I-I mean no. Wait, no, um, I'm new here? I just transferred… today."

I could feel myself cringe at my lack of coherence in front of what I now knew to be a member of the staff at my new school.

Luckily though-

"Ah, so you're him. Well, I'm your new homeroom teacher, Sam Li. Anyway, first bell is about to ring, so walk in with me and I'll have you introduce yourself."

-the saint in khakis saw through my intentions and stepped in front of me.

"Keep close… or I can't guarantee you'll make it out in one piece."

"Uhhh, alright?"

I didn't understand the sudden intensity, but y'know, when in Rome.

 Sliiiide!

The room behind the door went silent.

Following him, I stepped into the classroom and came face-to-face with my new classmates for the first time.

And boy, what a class.

23 people stared back at me.

23 people in the same uniform stared back at me.

And though we wore the same uniform, everyone that I could see wore it a bit differently.

Some people wore it without the blazer, others with a t-shirt in place of the button up, some of the girls wore spats under their skirts, and-

Wait, huh?

My vision stopped dead on a student towards the back of the class, in the row next to the window.

I- uh, well how do I put this?

Have you ever heard that song from that one kid's show?

You know, the one with all the puppets that goes, '𝆕One of these things is not like the other𝆕'?

Well, I'm not trying to be rude when I say this, but I think I found the outlier.

Because, sitting at the desk in the window row towards the back of the classroom, I saw what looked to be a 30-year-old man in my new school's uniform.

Yeah, I know, sounds strange, but I want you to imagine how I felt seeing someone who stood at 187 centimeters with cheese wheels for shoulders wearing the same uniform that I was, sitting at a desk that was far too small for him.

I was understandably shook.

"-s you can see, we've got a new student. Go on, introduce yourself."

"…"

Which was probably why I was not at all prepared to introduce myself when asked to by Mr. Li.

I just couldn't stop staring.

Everyone in the room acted like it was normal, but c'mon.

"Ahem!"

The loud clearing of a throat snapped me out of it though.

"Ah, sorry."

Mr. Li said nothing, simply cocking his head in the direction of the now lightly sniggering class.

I felt my cheeks heat slightly.

What a great first impression, me.

Derisive comment in mind, I turned my attention to my classmates.

Geez, the last time I transferred into a new school was back in grade school… what did I even say then?

I didn't say a lot.

Honestly, I think I was just happy to be away from where I was.

But, at the same time-

A little girl with short brown hair and fair skin waved and gave me a bright toothy smile as she called out to me,

"I'll see you tomorrow!"

-I was… lonely.

So the words I said then, with a smile like my dad instructed, were-

"I'm Aoi Ikeda. I hope we can get alo-"

 CRASH!

My perfectly normal introduction was interrupted by something crashing through the door that I had just walked through in a minor explosion of dust, wood, and confusion.

And when all that cleared, what was left was the unconscious body of…

That guy?

The blonde delinquent boy who had accosted me minutes before.

And he looked quite a bit worse for wear.

His nose was bleeding, cheeks and eyes were swollen, and I don't think legs were meant to bend in all the ways that his were.

Honestly, I felt a bit bad for the guy, he was having a bad morning.

But my pity was definitely overridden by my shock of his being there in the first place.

And the fact that no one in the classroom seemed to be phased by it.

Even Mr. Li seemed absolutely unbothered by it, simply staring into the (now doorless) doorway.

And from the doorway, in walked someone who seemed oddly familiar.

Tall with tanned skin, reddish-brown hair, and eyes that shone a strikingly bright amber.

Though in place of the uniform like everyone else, they wore a blue tracksuit with a blue gem on the left side.

"Sorry, teach." She said, her voice laid back but kinda husky, "I was running late and then this guy tried to bust me out in front of the station, so I figured I'd take him in as my late pass."

That sounded… insane.

There's no two ways about it, that reasoning was crazy.

I heard it, you heard it.

So why the hell did Mr. Li nod like it made sense?

Why was the class just ignoring the unconscious guy and staring at the girl who kicked his ass through a door?

Well, actually, staring at somebody who just did something like that made sense, but those were meant to be stares of shock or slight horror, not… whatever the heck that look in most of their eyes were.

The girl walked over to the delinquent boy's body, grabbing him by the shirt and hefting him with minimal effort before addressing Mr. Li again.

"I'll take this guy to the Nurse's office, so I'm present but not, technically."

If the absurdity of the situation phased my new homeroom teacher at all, I'd have to applaud him for showing none of it.

All he did was look at the (likely) unhinged girl and say, "Get it done."

And with not a word more in response, she was away.

I think she gave me a quick nod of acknowledgement as she went, but I was still trying to wrap my head around the situation.

"What are you just standing there for? Pop a squat."

So much happened in the span of 60 seconds that I barely noticed Mr. Li pointing at a seat towards the center of the class.

Operating word being barely.

I had no idea why he was so intense, seeing as he was just telling me to sit down, but I didn't wanna try to test his patience on my first day.

So you can bet that my ass hit the seat in record time.

And from there, my first day at Aotoya began.

 ***

Classes went by without incident.

Honestly, they were the most normal part of my morning.

Homeroom led into English, which led into Math, which led into Biology, which led into Social Studies.

I spent most of those periods on my phone.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not some slacker that plays on social media when I'm bored with a lecture or some super genius that can just ignore the fact that I transferred into a new school a good two months into the school year and grasp the curriculum easily.

No, I'm not built like that.

You see, I didn't have to buy or pick up textbooks when I got accepted into Aotoya.

They, like my ID and schedule, were completely digital.

Same for the rest of the class.

People on phones, laptops, tablets, blue light reflecting in their eyes.

But it was quiet.

Oh, the joys of living in the Information Age.

Anyway, the morning periods passed by quickly enough, teachers shifting in and out, classes running into another, blurring and mixing like some scholastic smoothie.

I was taking in information, yeah, but I didn't recognize it all individually.

'x equals a minus b' crashed into 'I before E except after C'.

Molecular formulae merged into The Siege of Mount Hiei.

No matter where you go, I guess school is still school.

Luckily though, there was about an hour's reprieve before the two hour death march to the end of the day.

'Why?', you ask?

Well, for lunch, of course.

I, for one, was equal parts excited and nervous.

Excited, because I hadn't eaten anything all day.

There was no food in my apartment yet and I had gotten in late the night before, so I ended up skipping dinner and then breakfast.

So, as you may be able to guess, a meal seemed incredibly tantalizing.

Though, there also was the nerve-wracking part of lunch.

The social aspect.

I had shown up to homeroom with the teacher, had my introduction interrupted by some violent chick, and then proceeded to not talk to anyone in my class.

So, as you might imagine, I hadn't made any friends just yet.

That made the lunch period, and my movements during it, imperative.

What was the move?

Cafeteria?

If I ate there, I figured I could find a group with an open spot at their table and maybe weasel my way into their group.

Lunch groups in the cafeteria were usually a bag of mixed nuts, people from the same junior high who weren't assigned to the same class usually used the lunch period as a time to link up, sometimes they brought people from their class that they clicked with.

Actually, on second thought…

Didn't seem like a good idea.

Just seemed like another way to find myself ostracized, while alienating any potential new friends from other classes.

The other possible move was to eat lunch in the classroom.

In this case, I'd grab something small from the school store or a vending machine-bread or something- and bring it back to my desk.

After that, I'd approach one of my classmates and ask to eat with them.

"Oi."

  SLAM!

Or they can just come to me.

My eyes trailed up the arm attached to the hand that was slammed on my desk.

It led to a rather… diminutive figure.

One who whilst standing at his full height, could only barely see eye-to-eye with me as I was sitting down.

His hair was a poorly -or I should say obviously- dyed red with visible brown roots and his eyes were narrow, colored a rather murky brown.

And the expression on his face could be described best as haughty or constipated.

You could take your pick, really.

"Hey there, New Kid."

Wow, that's a lot of smarm.

But smarmy or not, it was a greeting.

If I wanted to make any friends, I had to be at least somewhat polite to my peers, regardless of their lack of courtesy towards me.

So I smiled and responded, "Hey."

No sarcasm.

No hidden meaning or agenda.

Just a simple, straightforward, 'hey'.

Yet for some strange reason, the redhead's face seemed to twist into an expression akin to annoyance after my response.

"You got a problem with me, asshole?"

"I don't."

"Well, I think you do."

"You're quite incorrect, then."

Annoyance shifted into anger.

I watched his jaw clench as his teeth grinded behind his lips.

"Oh, I don't think I am Icky-da."

"Ikeda."

 Slam!

"You've got a hell of an attitude for a newcomer."

"I've been polite this whole conversation."

The tiny redhead scoffed.

"What? You saying I'm the asshole here? You calling me an asshole, Icky?"

Have you not been messing up my name on purpose?

"No, not at all."

All of a sudden, there was a finger in my face, a fingernail's length away from touching the tip of my nose.

"You're patronizing me. What? You tryna make me look bad in front of my girl?"

At this, he cocked his head back toward the front of the classroom.

There sat a girl, blonde with ringlets and a… round figure -not that there was anything wrong with that, just an observation- who stared back at us.

The rest of class seemed to mill about normally though.

Some of the seats were empty on account of some people having gone for lunch.

Others chatted with friends over lunch that they'd brought in from home.

And some spared a few fleeting glances at the situation that was unfolding at my desk.

Oddly enough, some of them looked to be shaking their heads slightly as if in disapproval of something.

 Slam!

"Eyes on me, Ick."

The unnamed shorty at my desk slammed his hand on my desk again, I couldn't help the irritation that bubbled up in my chest.

Jeez… "Gimme a break, would ya?"

It took a moment and the sight of a quickly reddening redhead's face for me to realize that I had said my thoughts out loud.

I'd never seen such a shade of red on a human being before.

"The hell did you just say to me?"

Shit.

"Hey, look I didn't mean anything by-"

"But you said something."

"Well yes-"

"Then you meant something, asshole."

"What is your damage?"

I definitely meant to say that one out loud.

Unfortunately, that was something of a moment of weakness on my part.

I don't have a temper, but I definitely hate being insulted over and over again for no reason while I'm trying to be nice.

 CRASH!

I had but a moment to realize that I'd made some type of mistake when I was suddenly face-to-face with the irate red-headed stepchild, the desk that had acted as a flimsy barrier seconds before was on its side to my right.

The rest of the class still milled about as it had been.

"You need to learn some manners. So I'm challenging you, asshole!"

…wut?

I didn't know how I was meant to respond to that.

It was just such a… bizarre situation.

He was challenging me.

Challenging me to what exactly?

A duel?

I wasn't in the habit of accepting challenges for duels.

Granted, most people weren't in the habit of issuing challenges for duels.

Honestly, I didn't see any reason to say much more than, "Uh… no."

And just like that, the whole room went silent.

I could feel eyes from all around, all gazing into me.

But most important were the eyes right in front of me, glaring into my soul with such an intense heat that I'm still surprised that I didn't catch fire on the spot.

"What?"

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"No, negatory, nah, mm-mm, not happening, нет, nein, non, لا, Dagakotowaru."

I couldn't speak a hundred different languages, but I could definitely say no in a hundred different ways.

Much to the irritation of the little man before me.

I watched his face shift from confusion to shock to indignation before it finally settled on rage.

Looking down, I saw his hand twitch, and every little hair along the back of my arms raised.

 SCREEEEEECH!

I kicked hard against the floor with my heels, the legs of my chair scraping against the floor as it slid back rapidly.

I looked back at the jerk who had just swung at me, his arm was still outstretched, fist clenched tightly.

"What the hell?!"

At this point, any possible goodwill that I may have had was long gone.

As such, I had no intention of being polite anymore.

Though I still didn't wanna fight the guy-

  ⌈Class 1-5: Bout!⌋

Huh?

 ⌈Challenger: Aoki Yamaguchi vs. Defender: Aoi Ikeda⌋

Haaaaaah!?

 ⌈Begin!⌋

-a woman's voice filled the room, speaking words that served two purposes.

One: To befuddle me. Because, what the actual hell was that?

And Two: To embolden the pissy midget that had kicked off the situation in the first place.

I could see the vulgar grin spread across his face as soon the words reached him.

It was clear to anyone with two braincells to rub together that this was his intent all along.

After all, why else would he have had a set of brass knuckles in his pocket?

Wait…

"What the fu-!?"

 Crash!

I barely had a second to realize that there was something wrong with the thought I'd just had before I shot up out of my seat, just narrowly avoiding a blow that broke it in two.

I didn't have a moment to catch my breath after that, because he had another blow aimed right at my gut, another one that I dodged.

The guy's strikes were quick, furious, not unlike the delinquent who had accosted me earlier.

Aside from that, the differences between Blondie and the redhead were like night and day.

As I said, not a fan of fighting, but as someone with an unprofessional opinion, I would say that his stance was tight.

His knees were bent to allow him to crouch slightly which would make his face harder for me to hit, seeing as he was already so small.

His feet were close together which kept him on the move and the offensive

And the sporadic way that he moved his hands kept me guessing, only able to weave away at the last second.

 Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Every swing led into another, each aimed at a different part of my torso. Like he was looking to start a combination on a heavy bag.

"C'mon, Ickyda! Throw a punch!"

 BUMP!

My hip grazed the corner of a desk.

Shit.

The classroom was probably the worst place for a fight like this.

If I moved too quickly, I couldn't watch where I was going.

If I couldn't watch where I was going, I'd bump into things.

The last thing I needed was to trip over a chair or a bag or something.

To be honest, I was surprised that I hadn't bumped into anybody in the midst of all the nonsense.

Though, a quick listen to the voices all around me squashed that surprise pretty quick.

"Aoki! Aoki! Aoki!"

"Get him, Yamaguchi!"

"Throw a punch, new kid!"

"Kiki! Don't let him disrespect you like that, babe!"

Yep. I was in a room of Yahoos.

 WOOSH!

"I'm waiting for you to back up the shit you talked, Ickyda!"

WHAT SHIT?!

"I don't wanna fight you, man!"

"Then sit still and the fight'll end, you jackass!"

"How about not?"

  BUMP!

My back hit a desk, causing it to slide a bit.

"Watch it!"

There was somebody sitting at the desk.

"Sorry- crap!"

I jumped and rolled over the top of the desk, a brass-knuckled fist slammed exactly where I was.

Cracks spread like spider webs from the point of impact. My pelvis was around that area when I was standing there.

"Dammit, Yamaguchi!"

"Sorry, man!"

I had bought a little time seeing as the little man needed to get around the desk, but I knew I couldn't dodge forever.

He didn't wanna talk things out and I wasn't gonna let him concuss me, so that left one option-

I gotta knock him out.

I had to think.

I couldn't punch him, what if he fist bumped me?

I'd end up with busted knuckles.

Punches were no good. Getting in a slugfest with some who had on punch enhancers was a non-starter.

Kicking him, well it wasn't out of the question. But that would require me to get within his striking range which would make dodging far more difficult, and then I would need momentum for a good kick.

That required further planning that I didn't have time for.

The next thing I could think of was-

A weapon!

Not like a boxcutter or something, more like… a broom or a baseball bat!

Something with range to keep him away.

Unfortunately, there was no broom or bat in the ro-

Wait, huh?

-the thought stopped dead in its track, because right next to me -near a desk towards the back of the class, in the row next to the window- there was a handle sticking out of a bag.

A handle to what could only be one thing:

A bat!

My eyes did see a pair of legs next to the bag, and I came to the very likely conclusion that the owner of those legs was also the owner of the bag.

This would also mean that they were the owner of the bat in the bag.

And so, with my hand wrapped around the handle, I asked, "Can I borrow this?"

"Mm." A ridiculously deep voice grunted.

Whether it were a yes or a no, the sound was barely even out of my new best friend's mouth before I wrenched the weapon out of its container, brandishing it as eagerly as I could considering the fact that the situation I was in was not one that I wanted to be in.

Despite myself and the situation at hand, my eyes trailed up the soon-to-be instrument of violence.

It was an old wooden thing, well-maintained and taped up at the handle.

It was hefty, something you could get real good swing out of and do some real serious damage with.

Especially with the nails at the fat end.

…

I stared blankly for a moment.

I could see that the little guy had made his way around the desk that he'd punched and the irate student sat at it as well, but I couldn't bring myself to care at that moment.

In that moment, there was only one thought at the forefront of my mind.

Why are there nails in this bat?!

It baffled me, really.

Brass knuckles, nail bats, what kind of hell school did I enroll myself into?

 Woosh!

Another punch launched at my torso, missing by a hair's breadth.

"Take a swing, Icky!"

Do you wanna die?

"You should back up!"

My possibly suicidal attacker scoffed.

"Why? You're the one in danger, asshole!"

  Woosh! Woosh! Woosh! Woosh!

Another flurry of strikes, all that I had to dodge one right after another.

I wanted to use the bat.

I really did.

But I also didn't want to bash this guy's skull in.

Killing people is kind of a bad thing.

So I had to find some way to make him back down without doing something bad.

 Woosh! Whoosh!

My grip tightened on the bat's handle.

Wait a minute- the handle!

I had an idea.

The redhead was tiring slightly, having been forced to throw punch after punch without hitting anything for so long.

His stance was getting looser by the minute and I could see the sweat drip from his face.

I had an idea, that idea quickly became a plan.

But in order for that plan to work, I needed to time it properly.

 Woosh!

So I dodged.

 Huff!

He huffed.

  Drip!

Sweat dripped.

Not yet.

I dodged.

 Woosh!

He huffed.

  Huff!

And sweat dripped.

 Drip!

And then one more time: A dodge. A huff. A drip.

And then I saw it.

I saw him stumble slightly.

And that was all I needed.

My eyes zeroed in on his chest, no longer covered and in perfect reach.

I flipped the bat in my hand so that the wide end was pointed behind me and, with all the strength that I had in me, I thrusted it forward.

"UNNNFHH!"

And it hit the mark, center of the torso, knocking the air straight out of his lungs.

I saw his feet lift off the ground a bit.

Not enough.

It was a good hit, but that wouldn't knock him out.

I need something with a little more impact.

So, before he could touch the ground again, I pulled my leg back as far as I could-

A familiar girl's voice called out, "Turn your foot! You need to hit it with the inside of your foot!"

-turned my foot and brought it forward as fast and hard as I could.

  WHACK!

And the boy went flying, sailing over desk after desk and past a few other onlookers that had to move out of the way of the airborne redhead-

  CRASH!

And then he hit the wall at the front of the classroom… hard.

I was worried that he might he get up and get right back to the fight, but upon seeing him fall forward onto his face- a bit still for my taste- I had my doubts.

 ⌈The fight is over. Aoi Ikeda wins.⌋

When the strange announcer from earlier spoke up again, I knew that it was over.

And I knew exactly what I had to do after.

"Uh, here ya go. Thanks for letting me use it."

"Mm."

Well, first, I had to return the bat to the person that I'd borrowed it from.

That person being the big guy with the cheese wheels for shoulders who I pointed out earlier.

Well, he helped me in my hour of need, so he was cool with me.

Speaking of need, I realized that there was somewhere that I needed to be after the whole fight debacle.

"Say, you wouldn't happen to know where the Headmaster's Office is, would you?"

 ***

First floor, straight down the hall to my right. This should be it.

What stood before me was a simple sliding door.

One much like any other that could be found in the school.

By itself, the thing wasn't all that impressive.

But behind that simple sliding door, there sat the most important person in the building.

I hadn't even spoken to the headmaster when I enrolled myself, it was the secretary that dealt with me mostly.

It was kind of intimidating.

But, even so, I had to get over it.

There was something I needed to do.

  Knock! Knock!

"Come in!" I heard from inside.

I slid open the door and walked inside.

Behind the door was a little room that could be best described as… quaint.

Not much in it besides some plants, a desk, and a woman sitting behind said desk and typing at what looked to be a really nice desktop.

The woman in question was a bit on the younger side -maybe in her mid-twenties- with dirty blonde hair, wearing a white short-sleeved button up with a little Union Jack sewn onto her collar.

She turned to me with a small smile, the rapid tap!tap!tapping! of her typing not even breaking pace for a second.

"How can I help you?"

Her voice was light, almost soothing, and she had an accent.

I would assume English, but it was so slight that I couldn't quite place it.

Wait, focus.

I had almost gotten too caught up in something unimportant, I needed to keep strong.

I was there for a reason.

"I'd like to see the headmaster, please."

"Sorry, but that's not possible currently."

The lady, Ms. Eden Day, if I were to believe the desk plate in front of her, didn't miss a beat as she shot me down instantly.

"Um, sorry? Why not?"

"The headmaster is always rather busy. If you'd like, we can schedule you for an appointment at around lunchtime tomorrow."

"Uh, actually, this is something that needs to be done today. Tomorrow is no good."

Ms. Day let out a sigh, a weary one.

The kind of sigh that only said one thing.

'This shit again?'

On one hand, I understood that I was being a bit of a bother. I showed up out of the blue, unrequested and then immediately asked to see the highest level of authority in the building.

On the other hand, it wouldn't make any sense to make an appointment for something that would take maybe three minutes, tops.

Though I did feel a bit bad seeing Ms. Day's had become a bit strained.

"Well, I'm sorry but-"

  RIIIIIIING! RIIIIIIING! RIIIIIIING!

A phone on the desk began ringing.

"Excuse me-"

Ms. Day, her hands having stopped for the first time since she began speaking to me, immediately disengaged from the conversation and pulled the receiver from the base before the phone could ring a fourth time.

From there, I heard half of a conversation.

"Hello. Yes, ma'am. Yes, he's here. Yes, to you. You're certain? Alright, I'll tell him."

 Click!

She hung up and turned back to me, cocking her head lightly in the direction of another door just opposite to the one that I'd entered.

"The headmaster will see you now."

After that, she turned back to her computer and began to type again.

That was… convenient.

But, weird coincidences aside, I got what I wanted.

So, I walked over to the door that I'd been directed to.

 Knock! Knock!

I knew that I'd already been invited in, but it didn't seem right to just enter.

"Come in, Ikeda!"

A woman's voice called from within.

It sounded… familiar.

In a way that made me tense slightly.

It's just nerves, I tried to tell myself.

 Sliiiiiide!

I opened the door and stepped inside.

The headmaster's office was a great deal bigger than the room that it was connected to.

There were windows all along the walls, shelves filled with books and binders on either side of the door that I'd just entered from.

On the floor there was a rug with the school's symbol, a little blue jewel, sewn into it.

And on the far end of the room, there was a desk.

A large one stacked high with papers and a nameplate that was down on its face for some reason.

And behind that desk was a chair that was turned away.

"How can I help you today, young man?"

The voice that came from the chair, now that I had heard it clear, sounded far younger than I thought it would.

Granted, I usually associated the word 'headmaster' with old men, so maybe I should've tempered my expectations with my pure lack of knowledge on the subject.

"Young man?"

My chest tightened again. But I had to speak.

"Sorry for imposing, ma'am."

"Imposing? Hardly. I wanted to find some time to see how our scholarship transfer is getting on anyway. If anything, you saved me a major headache by coming when you did."

She chuckled.

And, for some reason, that sounded familiar.

Why won't she turn the chair around?

"But really, what can I help you with? Or did you just come to say hello?"

"Uh, no. I do have a reason for coming to see you."

"Alright, I'm all ears."

Alright, this is the moment.

"Ahem! Well, you see, I'd like to… um, well-"

I knew what I wanted to say, but the words kept getting caught in my throat and that weird feeling in my chest wouldn't go away.

"It's okay. Take your time."

The headmaster reassured me. My stomach tied into knots for some reason.

I took a deep breath in through my nose before letting out through my mouth.

I had to say it. I had to follow through, even through all the weirdness.

Like a band-aid. Just rip it off like a band-aid.

"Don't worry anything that you might say getting you any tro-"

"I'd like to leave Aotoya."

"…"

Silence.

The room got so quiet after that one statement.

It was uncomfortable.

Very much so.

Luckily, it was a short-lived quiet, broken by the adult in the room.

"Might I ask why?"

"I just… feel that Aotoya-" is completely batshit and not somewhere that I'd like to attend school for three years "-is a school that I wouldn't excel in."

"But you haven't even been here for a full day."

And yet I was assaulted twice and witness to another assault.

"It's just a feeling I have."

I wanted to be as amiable as possible, if only so as not to offend the woman who could say something about my attitude to another school's headmaster.

If push came to shove, I could imitate my legal guardian's voice on the phone again tonight to get pulled out of the school.

"Well then, I suppose if you feel so strongly about this…"

Yes. Yes. YES!

"There's no way I can let you go."

No! No! NO!

"…Huh?"

The feeling in my chest got worse, and so did the feeling in my stomach.

Why?

Why was I having such a bad reaction to this woman?

"You see, Little Aoi-" was that proper, could she call me that? "Not only do I not want to let you transfer, it's against policy to do so without written or verbal consent from your legal guardian."

"I can-"

A hand raised from behind the chair, it looked… soft, but I could see scars and scratches all around it.

"Before you lie, and say that you can get that consent, I'd like to ask you a question."

I could feel myself swallow involuntarily.

"Um… yes, ma'am."

"What is your name?"

"Huh?"

"Your name. Given and family, if you would."

It was a strange question, one that I knew she knew the answer to but-

"Aoi Ikeda."

The headmaster hummed.

"Okay, another question: What is your legal guardian's name?"

A bead of sweat rolled down my neck.

I was feeling more uncomfortable by the minute.

But even so-

"A-Aya Ikeda."

The headmaster hummed again.

"Alright, last one: What… is my name?"

Huh?

I- I didn't know.

I tried looking up the school website, but I couldn't find any information about the staff, even the headmaster.

It was an unfair question, I lacked critical information.

But just as I was about to begin complaining, something on the desk caught my eye again.

The nameplate…

I could just lift it and give it a quick peek.

It wasn't like she was timing me.

So stepping forward, noting absently that the headmaster wasn't stopping me, I lifted the nameplate and, after reading the name, almost dropped it.

"Got your answer, My Little Aoi?"

The headmaster turned in her chair, revealing a woman with short cut blue hair, blue eyes and a Cheshire grin that made me feel sick to my stomach.

I felt an all too real terror hit me across my body all at once.

'Why?', you ask?

Because smiling at me from behind the desk of the highest authority at Aotoya Academy was one of the scariest people I had ever met in my life.

Who just so happened to be-

"Why not come and give Mommy a hug?"

-my mother.

And my thoughts at that moment could be summed up in one word.

One word that I didn't realize I had said out loud until hours had passed.

"Fuck."