It was typical of her to wear a black wedding dress instead of the traditional white. It was also typical of her to hold a bouquet of black roses instead of red roses or pastel-colored flowers.

Everything was so … typically her.

He watched as she walked slowly down the aisle, taking baby steps. His patience was as thin as it could possibly be. He began tapping his index finger on the side of his thigh repeatedly and speedily. He swallowed down the urge to yell and tell her to hurry up.

He also blamed the pianist for playing the wedding march slower than usual. The pianist was playing on an ancient-looking organ with tubes that were incredibly tall it almost touched the ceiling — and the ceiling was high. The way the pianist played the piece was dreadfully gradual and dissonant; it vaguely sounded like the dirge.

Finally — fi-na-lly — she went up the two, tiny steps and stood in front of him. Her black veil — oh, what a great shocker — stopped underneath her chin, transparent enough to show her vibrant orbs. She stared at him expectantly, as if she were waiting for him to do something.

Oh.

He sighed, grumbled under his breath, and carelessly flipped the veil over her head. Despite his wishes, the veil gracefully flew back.

"You ready, Hilda?" he asked, looking straight through her eyes.

"What do you think?" she replied back, almost sounding as if that question offended her pride.

He smirked slightly. "Thought so. There's no backin' out now."

"What about you, fool? Are you ready?"

He thought back to what they had been through. The memories burst into his mind in a blur — but, ironically, he remembered everything clearly. Thinking about all the sacrifices, emotions, and outrageous events that he had encountered, did, and had felt hinted an oncoming migraine.

"What do you think?"

"I thought so."

There really was no backing out.

Tatsumi Oga woke up with a start.

Muffled masculine voices radiated from the thin walls of his bedroom. He sat up abruptly and glared at the wall, hoping that it would combust and spread its scorching fire to the idiots that woke him up. He fell back and stuffed two pillows over his head.

"Put that there."

THUD.

"No, over there."

THUD.

"I meant over there."

THUD.

"Aw, shit — I think the chick said on that side."

"Screw you. You're doin' this on purpose."

THUD.

Tatsumi's teeth clenched tightly. The force was so great that it could shatter them. His hands curled into hazardous fists, knuckles protruding. If he heard one more sound, he swore he was going to —

THUD, THUD.

"Idiot! Why the hell did you drop the damn box like that? You made it fall, dumbass!"

"Well, if you told me where to put it in the first place, I wouldn't have dropped it at all, asshole!"

"'Asshole', huh? You callin' me an asshole, punk? Wanna say that again?"

"Sure. You are an asshole."

That. Was. It.

Tatsumi shoved his blanket off and roughly threw his pillows to the wall. He charged right out of the room, slamming the door open and not bothering to close it. He stomped through the living room and kicked the front door open, ignoring the fact that he broke the locks — again.

The apartment door right beside his was left ajar. Tons and tons of boxes were stacked upon one another. There were at least four towers of them. It blocked the hallway heading down the rest of the apartments.

Grunts, curses, objects falling and breaking, and shouts were traveling out of the apartment near his. Tatsumi growled and, with fists as hard as diamonds, he marched right through the abode angrily.

The place was all but empty despite the boxes identical to the ones outside. Some boxes had fallen, and some that had fallen opened, revealing broken antiques and other fragile items. But Tatsumi overlooked the meager objects and glowered at the morons wrestling on the floor.

The brown-haired freak kicked the lanky-looking freak hard in the stomach in an attempt to get Lanky's arms off of him. Brownie managed to escape Lanky's hard grasp and elbowed his cheek with great force. Lanky spat out blood and attacked back with a sudden uppercut. Brownie toppled on the ground, moaning and cussing. Lanky stood up and stomped his foot on his opponent's abdomen. He grinned triumphantly and pressed his shoe harder, twisting it.

Tatsumi rolled his eyes at their immaturity and their amateur fighting moves. They were acting like a bunch of teenagers — kind of strange of him to think since Tatsumi himself was eighteen — that acted way too arrogant with their strength. He could tell that they were relying on luck, hoping they could land a punch on each other.

He was like that before, but he didn't want to admit that.

The eighteen-year-old was a second away from body slamming the two boys when a flash of yellow and black sped past him.

A blonde-haired woman jumped and swiftly kicked Lanky at the side. He flew to the wall, flat on his face. Slowly, he slid down, landing in a slump. The woman knelt down and grabbed Brownie by the shirt effortlessly. She held him up until he was a few inches off the ground.

"What are you fools doing?" she asked in an icy, icy tone. It sent tingles through Tatsumi's spine, but his face clearly didn't show it. He was pissed the woman stole the spotlight. Admittedly, he was also impressed, but he could've done more damage to Lanky.

Brownie's eyes widened, fear shown profoundly in them. "M-M-Miss, i-i-it was a-a-a-all — " He got cut off suddenly.

"Stop stuttering and speak clearly!"

He squealed. Tatsumi stared disgustingly at the guy. Jeez, she's just a chick. Man the fuck up, he snarled mentally.

Brownie cleared his throat. "R-Ryuu — " The fear in his eyes spread like wildfire crazily when he saw her glare turn even murderous " — Ryuu put the box at the wrong place, and I got mad at him! He acted like a baby, and I got mad at him more! Then, he started the fight! He dropped the box in the first place and didn't listen to me! He started it, miss, honest!" Tears sprang from the corners of his fear-filled eyes, and soon, a waterfall of salt slid down his cheeks. "PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!"

Tatsumi rolled his eyes at the guy. He was acting pathetic — no, he was pathetic. He couldn't believe that he was crying over a damn woman. Sure, she may have scary strength and eyes of a killer, but so what? She may seem like some type of demon, but that didn't mean she was one. The dude was overreacting. The dude deserved the verbal and physical abuse inflicted upon him.

But Tatsumi wanted to do that.

"You are pathetic," Blondie stated dangerously. "You are both pathetic." She whipped her face towards Ryuu, who was slowly recuperating. Seeing her blizzard glare, he squeaked and cowered in fear.

It was time to make his presence known. "My thoughts exactly," Tatsumi announced, tone casual.

The woman dropped Brownie. He wiped his tears with his sleeves and crawled towards Ryuu, positioning himself in a fetal position, and then rocking in synchronization with him.

Tatsumi got a good look of the woman. She had her hair up in a bun, and she had long bangs that covered her right eye, which was brilliantly green. She wore a simple, black sleeveless dress that showed off a portion of her breasts — they were as huge as hell — and stopped mid-thigh. She also donned high boots that went all the way up to the top of her knees.

Is she foreign? She speaks formal Japanese, so she must be mixed blood, Tatsumi thought.

"Are you with these fools?" she asked, staring at him as if he were pest.

The look infuriated him even more. "Look, lady, I'm here to complain," he said, walking up to her.

She merely stared at him, stoic. It either meant she didn't understand what he was talking about or she simply did not give a crap. He was highly sure it was the latter.

"Fascinating." If it weren't for the fact that her voice was so expressionless, he would've heard the sarcasm. In a way, he did. This woman was insane.

Then she started walking out of the apartment.

Tatsumi's eyes narrowed at her retreating form. Bitch, he thought acridly. He went straight after her, seizing her shoulder and forcing her to face him.

"I was still talking to you, woman," he snapped at her. "I said that I was here to complain, and I didn't complain yet."

Her eyes journeyed to the hand clutching her shoulder. She regarded him, glaring. "Get your dirty paw off of me before I break it," she threatened menacingly.

What the hell's up with this freakin' bitch? The fire inside him was rising and rising, flames just about ready to burst, but he held it in. His hand fell from her shoulder and twitched with anger as soon as it met its natural place.

"All right, look. You know those two punks in there, the ones you just mentally and physically scarred for life?"

"No, I don't. They're just helping me move in."

"That means you're responsible for them." Was it just him or did her glare harden at the statement? "And since you are, I'm complaining to you. And I'd like it if you would tell those idiots to quiet down or I'll rip their mouths off 'cause they woke me up. I don't like being woken up, 'specially since I slept late. Got it, Blondie?"

She scoffed, offending him. "I don't take orders from the likes of you. It's not my problem that those morons in there have a problem with their tones or if your beauty sleep is interrupted. I'm not liable for anything."

Tatsumi gritted his teeth in anger. "But those morons in there are working for you, which makes you liable for them."

Something dangerous flashed in her orbs. "I am not liable for them," she stated firmly.

Jeez, she was being so damn stubborn. Obviously she was responsible for the racket they were making, because they were working under her for the time being. It was like in the hospital — if a nurse did something wrong, the hospital or the attending doctor was accountable for her actions, right? The situation was the same with the chick and the noisy punks. She was being completely unreasonable, and it was just infuriating him more and more.

"Now are you done being an infantile little boy so I can finish moving in already?" Blondie asked.

It was like something popped inside. It was like something triggered the impending doom that was ready to burst out of his mouth and fists. Just the sound of her voice, how emotionless and cold it was, made him tense with rage.

But, damn-freakin'-it, she was a girl. He didn't want to cause her physical pain. He figured he could use his verbal strength and save his physical strength for the two teens.

"'Kay, bitch, no more Mr. Calm Guy," Tatsumi began in a dangerously low tone. "All I fuckin' wanted was for you two make those assholes over there to stop being so damn loud or shut the hell up. That's it. You didn't have to be so fuckin' stubborn about this whole damn thing, all right?" He ended with a loud shout.

His enraged speech didn't deter her at all. "Like I said, boy, I am not liable for those fools," she said, tone becoming angry. "That means you can do whatever the hell you want with them as long as they get their work done."

Okay, now that was pretty strange. Did she actually say that he could rough the two boys up and she wouldn't care? Did she really say that? But then again, considering her cold personality, it wouldn't be that surprising. Still, though, that wasn't something Tatsumi heard from normal people.

"W-W-W-Wait a minute! What're you saying, miss? You're gonna let that homicidal maniac kill us? Please tell me you're not gonna do that to us! It's all Ryuu's fault, I swear to you!" Brownie desperately tried to explain.

Ryuu stopped his cowering to smack him at the back of his head. "Stop fuckin' lying!" he yelled. "You're the one being stupid and telling me the wrong places, dumbass!"

"Oh, so it's 'dumbass' now?"

A vague grimace appeared on her face. She nodded at him. "Do what you please. Just make sure they do their job," she replied. She left the apartment.

A wicked, bloodthirsty grin widened on his face. His fists turned into deadly weapons. He approached his prey.

All you could hear were piercing cries of sheer agony throughout the entire morning.

— —

"Oga, ya got the money?"

"You gotta give me more time!"

"Damn it, Oga, I've given you two freakin' weeks already. Cough up the damn cash!"

"C'mon, don't do this to me, Toujou; I've got a life to live!"

" … Dude, Oga, stop being so dramatic. I just need your monthly rent."

Tatsumi heaved a large sigh and collapsed on the dilapidated sofa. "I am as broke as fuck."

Toujou shook his head at him. "You gotta get the cash soon. I'm filling in for the landlord while she's in vacation, and it's not gonna be pretty once she realizes your pay is late — for the what, eighteenth time?"

"Tch, stop exaggerating."

"Then what?"

The eighteen-year-old stayed quiet.

"Oga?"

Tatsumi snapped, "Well, maybe it's the twentieth time, all right? Quit bitchin' 'bout it!"

"Calm the hell down. I'm not." Toujou leaned back against the computer chair. If the landlord found out that Toujou contaminated her chair, he literally wouldn't live to see the day. Just thinking about that made Tatsumi want to grin viciously. What stopped him, though, was the fact that she would still be enraged and vent out all emotions on him — basically, killing him, too.

Tatsumi obviously needed money. He was dead broke. He could only afford a cup of instant noodles, and, although he could quite literally survive with only instant noodles, he was getting sick and tired of eating the same thing continuously. He thought he could handle it, but his body was being such a chick — which was kind of a punch to the ego. He could get a job and was fit enough to carry heavyweight without breaking a sweat. But his temper would always flare, because a lot of things/people aggravated him. There were also those people that held a grudge against him in high school and would cause a fight.

So, in a sense, the trouble that followed him wasn't entirely his fault. Some people just didn't know how to leave him alone. Was he that amazing? Did they like him or admire him that much?

"So … whatcha gonna do, Oga?" Toujou asked wistfully, looking out the window, hands clasped over his lap.

Tatsumi gave him a weird look.

Toujou seemed to feel the look, so he turned back to him. He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"That … That thing you're doing!"

"What thing?"

"That — That thing!"Tatsumi gestured to what he was doing. He mimicked his position and expression. "This face and clasping your hands like that." His face returned back to normal. "Dude, it feels off when you do it."

"The hell, Oga?"

Tatsumi sighed irritably and buried his face in his hands. "You know what? I don't even know what the fuck I'm saying, either."

The two men stayed silent for a while. Tatsumi took advantage of the silence to clear his mind of the stress overpowering him fast. His fingers massaged his temples as if to somewhat alleviate the ounces of internal agony. He hated stress, and he didn't want to deal with stress. Stress made him violent with everything around him. In a few minutes, he would infuriate Toujou and brawl with him. Maybe doing that will help him deal.

"Hey, Oga."

"What?"

"How do I look when I make this position?"

Tatsumi looked up and burst out laughing. Toujou had his leg crossed over the other and had his right elbow over his knee, fist underneath his chin. He had a grave expression on his face. Think GQ magazines. The pose didn't fit him right at all, because Toujou was a big, muscular guy that was tough as nails — wimpy next to Tatsumi, but he was just sayin' — and the pose made him look, well, anti-tough.

Toujou scowled at him. He scooted the chair all the way to him. The eighteen-year-old clutched his stomach, laughing harder and harder. Toujou didn't even move a single muscle from his position.

"Why the fuck you laughin', asshole?"

Tatsumi tried to speak. "You — HA! — look so freakin' — HAHAHAHAHA! — I can't even — " He started turning red and fell off the couch, still clutching his stomach. It was now in pain from all the laughing, but he ignored it. This was just hilarious. "YOU'RE SO FREAKIN' UGLY!"

Toujou stopped his pose and glared at him. "Fuck you," he sneered. "And stop laughing already."

"You're — You're — HAHAHAHA! — so freakin' — I can't breathe!"

"You can't breathe, huh? Want me to help you not breathe even more? Stop laughing!"

"Like I'm scared of you, Your — HAHA! — Ugliness!"

SMACK, SMACK, SMACK.

Oga left with three bruises ("Tch, fuckin' sore-ass loser.") on his right arm. He popped his neck easily, scowling. He looked back towards the landlord's office and glared at it. He turned back and began angrily heading up the steps to his apartment. As soon as he reached his floor, he saw that the boxes outside of Blondie's door were gone. She must be done settling in.

His current situation crept into his mind sneakily. He wiped his face with his hand roughly and grumbled under his breath, strings of profanities mixing with his grumbles. He placed his arms on the railing and leaned forward. His exhausted eyes surveyed his surroundings.

This … was it. He was going to die as a hobo. Was this what he deserved after suffering all those years in high school? He actually had endured the damn place for a reason. He needed some sort of reward for putting up with all of the assholes, dumbasses, punks, wannabes, freaks, and arrogant bitches. He didn't want to be in debt his entire life.

He spotted Blondie walking to the building, carrying a bag of groceries. She passed by a group of men, who stopped chatting with each other to ogle her shamelessly. She didn't pay them any mind and continued on.

An idea formed in his rusty brain.

A sinister smile slithered on his lips. He pushed off the railing and journeyed towards the blonde bombshell.

— this is gon' be good, peeps.

& don't worry, the chapters will get longer. :)
Review!