Don't judge a book by its cover
Fushimi Saruhiko had to say his newest bully was very clever in torturing him emotionally.
Now, at first glance Fushimi seemed to be an isolated kid who certainly fitted the bullied type. He was cold, distain, literally friendless since he'd rather be buried in books and computers than perform actual human interactions. He hated people with a weird passion, so very naturally, people hated him right back. Gloomy brat, emo boy, apathetic nerd, there were many bad names tossed upon him. So many, that if he were to write each of them on post-it notes respectively and paste them on himself, he would not need to wear clothes to stay decent.
However, if some idiots thought he was an easy target to beat up, they had a big meteor coming down. By all means, Fushimi never cared about bad names, shitty jokes or false rumors, but when it came to bullying, he was a force to be reckoned on with. Not that he was strong, though. The right phrase would be he knew exactly how to give his oppressors hell. If they punched his arm, he'd kick their balls. When they robbed his wallet, he threw his money on the ground and watched arrogantly as they scrambled on their knees to collect it. Who played petty tricks like stealing his stuff or trashing his table had to deal with their PDAs being infected by strong viruses. Once, a gang attacked him with hope to overpower him with number, but while Fushimi silently took every hits, his hidden recorder was on from begin to end. He pushed and twisted something here and there, and the bullies were all thrown out of school and some even almost went to jail.
So what if he was a lonely nerd. At the very least he was a dangerous nerd who hardly anyone dared to poked around.
Hardly anyone, because apparently some still tried, thought Fushimi as he peered into his shoebox. A chocolate bar was placed on his shoes. A melting chocolate bar on his white shoes, if he might add. And the fact that he hated sweets with an unreasonable intensity didn't help one bit. To the bitter teenager, it might as well be something came straight out of a witch's poison collection.
He wondered if it was the same idiot who put flowers besides his locker a few days ago. The whole school should know he was heavily allergic to flowers – these damn pretentious colorful pollen-disperse thingies. That day he attended most classes empty-handed because of his inability to go near his locker until a teacher took the bouquet away.
Whoever gave these two stupid things to him had death coming if he ever found out their identity, Fushimi swore under his breaths. He threw the chocolate over his shoulder in one fluid motion, paying no care where it would land.
"Hey, watch it gloomy glasses! Did you just throw things at Yata on purpose?! Are you okay, Yata-kun?" – A girly shriek pierced through Fushimi's ears. Clicking his tongue, he glanced at the noise's general direction in a bored manner. Sure enough, there stood Yata Misaki, the popular baseball captain winning people's hearts with dumb smiles and energetic spirit, at the center of a noisy crowd. For some unknown reasons, he was staring at the abandoned chocolate bar in his hand with a confused, hurtful face.
"Hah? He shouldn't stand so close to me then. It isn't your business anyway, shut your loud mouth up, my ears are ringing."
"What's wrong with you? How can you say that to Yata-kun? Does it hurt you to say sorry?" – The girl still hadn't given up on bitching him. So annoying. Was it a rule that everyone must like Yata or something? Sure, Fushimi acknowledged that the boy was good-looking, his personality was all sunshine and bubbles, and he got talent in baseball. Maybe he hated Yata slightly less than other people, but that was it.
Venom sarcastic comments were about to be out of his lips, but Yata's hesitant voice came first.
"Say…Fushimi, you don't really like…these things, huh? Chocolate and, uhm, flowers, well a few days ago I saw yo-"
"No, i don't. Even a fucking math book would be a hell lot better. Now, if you excuse me."
Classes hadn't even started yet and Fushimi decided he had enough headaches for a day. Walking quickly through the crowd, he concluded that skipping the first period to take a nap was the best option right then. The day just couldn't get worse.
It could, in fact, get worse.
A huge guy flung him into an alley between two old abandoned buildings none too gently. Fushimi cringed as his shoulders crashed down hard cold floor. He was careless for not seeing this revenge coming. The girl from before must send her jock friends from another school after him, obviously because no one in this school risked getting on his bad side anymore.
"What a weak loser, haha! I don't understand why Mia warned not to underestimate him!"
"Take his wallet, he looks rich. This will teach you a lesson, nerd! Don't ever mess with our cute Mia."
Fushimi glanced around for three seconds, then smirked.
"Gentlemen, I'm afraid that you're in need of a lesson much more than I am."
The punks were pissed off and charged toward him in furious rage. However, a loud yell shocked them still just a moment before a baseball bat came harshly into a guy's stomach. Yata Misaki jumped into view, protectively shielded the troubled boy.
"Attacking a defenseless guy in group, aren't ya ashamed?!"
"Bastard…I'll kill you!"
"Let see you tr-Augh! What the hell are you doing?!" – The supposedly hero glared at Fushimi, who had just slapped his back sharply. Icy azure eyes narrowed at him, accompanied by a chilling low voice.
"Get out of the way, I can handle this."
"I just want to help!"
"Get your hero complex out of my face, popular boy. Ask affection from someone else."
A powerful punch came right between them, effectively cut down Yata's retort. Their attackers looked unhappy being ignored. The baseball captain went head first into the fight with a confident grin, while the gloomy nerd ran across the alley's length and skillfully manipulated his opponent's' hits into the wall, occasionally kicked someone on its surface.
The fight lasted four minutes until loud cracks could be heard. Fushimi smirked and grabbed Yata's hand, all but bounced toward the open of the alley. Not giving anyone a second to react, Fushimi kicked two trash bin into the gang's direction, driving them further into the alley where a small shelter hang. Two seconds later, the walls started to crumble down, bringing numerous bricks and other objects down into a large pile.
Everyone but Fushimi widened their eyes in absolute terror. All bullies were trapped inside the mess. Most were injured but not seriously since there were a shelter above them, which they was almost gratuitous until they realized that it was probably because Fushimi didn't want to be charged with murder.
"I said I could handle them, didn't I? I'd calculated everything." – a smug smile tug at Fushimi's lips, clearly enjoyed his handiwork. The shorter nodded in awe, then smiled brightly. They began to walk away in case somebody came and made a fuss.
"I knew you could do it, but I still wanted to help! I couldn't leave my crush alone in such situation, right?" – As soon as the sentence ended, Yata's face burned right up to his ears in recognition of his tongue slip. He fidgeted awkwardly under the sheer force of the other's stare.
"I…I mean, this happened partly because of me, right?. I don't know Mia, I don't even know why I'm popular with girls, they're so scary. So, yeah, I had to take responsibility, ok?"
"Now that i think about it, why are you even here? " – Blue eyes still stared intensely at Yata.
"I'm not following you! I just, well, wanted to give you something afterschool, but you walked too fast."
"Tsk, what is it?"
Yata blushed harder and nervously searched something in his bag. The taller boy told himself he didn't really care, but couldn't help but felt a little worked up.
"Here…for you"
"….."
"Well? Take it, please."
"This is a math book."
"Er, you like this better than chocolate and flowers…right?"
"….Yata Misaki."
"…..Yes?"
"You're a fucking idiot."
Fushimi said that with an amused smile and took the book nonetheless, so Yata felt much more happier than he did all the times people praised him combined.