"Stupid."
"Dummy."
"Tard."
"Wanna-be."
"Poser."
"Bastard."
"Rat."
"Pig."
"Meat head."
Everyday.
Everyday. Everyday.
Every single day it was the same.
"Look at her pants! Totally hand-me-downs!"
"Or Goodwill."
"Hahaha."
More and more and more. Always more judgment's. More hatred. More tears.
"That hair is so fake."
"It's a wig."
"Look at her make-up."
"FAKE!"
Always something new to talk about. New lies and opinions. New reasons to end it all.
"Hey, look."
"Oh my god, he is so gay."
"Is he wearing girl's clothes?"
"Wouldn't doubt if he did tricks in the boy's bathroom."
"Ew, that's gross."
"He's what's gross."
Why is everyone like this? Why is everyone so vile? Why? Why? Why?Why?!Why why why why why?! Why is the world so evil?! Everyone is horrible! Everyone is rude!
Everyone! Everyone!
EVERYONE!
"Ro~ppi~!"
I looked up to the call of my name.
My eyes narrowed at my older brother, who was smiling down at me with a condescending grin.
"It's time to go home. Psyche's waiting."
I didn't answer. Just stood and grabbed my bag. I followed my brother out with my eyes to the ground down as he led the way to the lockers.
My giddy younger brother of less than a year spotted us before we did. He came bouncing up on his white shoes with florescent pink soles. His matching headphones nearly fell off his head but he quickly grabbed them to keep that from happening.
I scowled at him. With his bright white coat—pink fluffy trimming around the wrists, bottom, and hood—on and his white shorts that stopped at his mid-thigh, he was always too bright to look at. Even his eyes were blinding, being a bright magenta pink. Honestly, the only thing dark about him was his ebony black hair.
"Roppi~!" he sing-songed and hugged me. Well, more like tackled me. But I managed to stay on my feet so I didn't count it as a tackle.
"Just waiting for Hibiya and Sakuraya then?" our oldest brother said.
"Iza, Iza! We should leave quickly before the Heiwajima's pop up!" Psyche squealed.
The 'Heiwajima's' were a 'clique' in the school. That's what people called them but in truth, they're no different than us Orihara's. Like us, they were a set of five identical brothers: Shizuo, Tsugaru, Shitsuo, Delic, and Tsuki. I personally had only met Shizuo but I had spotted other look-alikes in my classes so I figured that was who they were. Whichever Heiwajima owned whatever name was not to my knowledge or requirement to care other than Shizuo so I knew who to avoid and who to run from.
The noticeable feature of all these brothers was simple: All the Heiwajima's had bright blond hair—whether it was natural or dyed, I had no clue—and were all pretty tall for boys their age.
The Orihara's—us—on the other hand were the opposite. With pure black hair and dark eyes, it wasn't really surprising that we were at odds with each other. Honestly, it was all because of Izaya. He started a fight with Shizuo on the first day of school so since then we've tried to stay away from the blonds while they stayed away from us.
Except for Shizuo. Whenever something went wrong he always blamed Izaya—who was usually the culprit, anyway—and I'd end up getting dragged into it. Izaya and I look the most alike out of all five of us. Psyche always wore the psychedelic white-and-pink; Hibiya wore a golden cloak with white boots, black-and-white leggings, and a tan tunic with black under-armor and paraded around like a prince—he even wore white gloves and a crown when he could—and Sakuraya usually wore a yukata with a cherry blossom haori.
I, on the other hand, wore the same black v-neck shirt with a fur-trimmed black coat and black jeans. The only difference between us was that my hair was a little longer, the trimming of my coat was red instead of tinted, and my eyes were a bright blood red while Izaya's were a rusty brown.
So, more than once I ended up getting punched by Shizuo because he couldn't tell Izaya and I apart, and thus Izaya will retaliate—Not to avenge me but to punish Shizuo for getting it wrong and making it look like the blond had actually bested Izaya.
With a sigh, I turned to see Sakuraya and Hibiya walking up. Hibiya's golden eyes stared at me in disdain. Although he was the second youngest—me the second oldest under Izaya—he always stared at us like we were street rats. The only one he slightly respected was Sakuraya but even that had it limits. Honestly, his hatred for us and not Sakuraya probably stemmed from the fact that he actually knows who his mom is. Sakuraya and Hibiya have the same mother—who was some rich chick with a husband—while Psyche, Izaya, and I had no clue who our mother's were.
And by some vindictive twist of fate, we all got shacked up with our biological father—who was a drunkard 99% of the time. Hibiya and Sakuraya got to see their mother every Sunday for visitation but I didn't understand why the two just don't leave with her. They'd be better off, after all.
But in the end, it wasn't my business so I've never asked about it.
Now with all five of us together, we followed Izaya down the hall and out the doors. The five of us left the school behind to head to that hell hole we called home. It was nippy outside, the winter air biting at our exposed skin, but we didn't make haste to get home. We were all dragging our feet, except for Psyche who was skipping around us singing along to some song blaring out his headphones. I casted him a glare but I didn't tell him to stop. We all could use some brightness before we went to that dark pit.
But we didn't get any peace out of the pink raven. Because on our way home, the five blonds were in front of us, walking home as well most-likely.
And Izaya just had to do something.
Leaning down, Izaya scooped up a ball of snow, took aim, and fired.
The snowball slammed into the back of Shizuo's head.
'Oh…great.'
"You bastard flea!" Shizuo turned around with a look that could kill if that 0.000000000000000000675% possibility of looks being killable was true. "What are you doing, huh?"
"Snow ball fight!" Izaya cheered, throwing his arms in the air in mocking excitement.
"Oh, really?!"
I saw a Heiwajima that rivaled Psyche in white-and-pink coax another to go down the alley, followed by one in a blue haori.
I decided that that wasn't a bad example to follow.
"Hibiya, Sakuraya, Psyche." I gestured for them to move out of the way.
Hibiya cast me a glare but obeyed, followed by Sakuraya.
I followed suit, as well, but…
Shizuo kneeled down and picked up a chunk of ice, glaring death at Izaya who only snickered.
…Psyche looked around, completely dumbfounded and confused by the sudden tension in the area—or more of, he hadn't noticed everyone moved with his headphone volume up so loud.
'Fricken airhead!' "Psyche, move!"
Psyche stared at me wide-eyed as if his feet were rooted to the ground, his eyes screaming, "What's going on here?", as he pushed his headphones to around his neck.
I clenched my teeth and ran out of the safety of the alley to grab the dimwit.
Shizuo chucked the ice, aimed at Izaya.
Izaya, however, easily dodged and the ice was poised to hit Psyche instead.
But by then I was in front of Psyche, thus the ice slammed into me.
Pain enveloped my face and I called out in agony as I fell to my knees.
"Roppi!" Psyche kneeled down too as I held my face, blood dripping from in between my fingers onto the snow.
"Geez, Shizuo, can't you aim at all?" Izaya tutted. "You're not supposed to hit bystanders."
"It's his own fault for running out like an idiot."
"Oh?" Izaya glanced down at me and I looked up at him. But with only one eye. The other had blood drizzling over it so opening it would be a stupid idea. "I agree but you know, he is my little brother, after all."
A flick blade slipped down Izaya's sleeve.
Shizuo cracked his knuckles.
'Here we go again.'
I groaned as I lied on my bed. I had a throbbing headache down my forehead to behind my eye. I hoped I didn't have a concussion cuz it wasn't like I could go to the hospital. But just in case I did, I kept my head elevated with three pillows. I heard that that's supposed to help.
The whole right side of my face was bandaged—there were wrappings around my head to hide the stitches, a medical eye-patch over my right eye because the blood vessels were broken, and a big bandage patch over my cheek to keep the cuts and scrapes from getting infected.
When we had got home, Sakuraya had grabbed the first-aid kit and gone about cleaning the wound. Most first-aid kits didn't have stitches in them, but we never had enough money to go to a hospital so Izaya started buying them for us. Sakuraya was pretty skilled at stitching by now. He'd make a good doctor one day.
Well, if any of us made it that far.
I could hear the yelling coming from downstairs, but I chose to drown it out. Not like I could do anything to stop it.
My door opened and Psyche padded in. There were tears in his eyes but he smiled up at me, nonetheless.
"What's Dad angry about?" I asked.
"Iza won't go buy him cigarettes."
"Izaya can't buy him cigarettes. He's a minor."
"That's what Iza said but…"
I scoffed. That man probably had more than three bottles of vodka today. I was surprised he can even stomach the idea of making his mouth even dryer than it was. But it was always pointless to question the stupidity of drunks.
When my door remained propped open, I glanced down at Psyche. He had his hands balled together at his chest, a nearly unnoticeable tremor passing through his body.
I sighed. "Come here."
Psyche smiled. "Thank you."
He rushed over after closing the door and curled against my side, tucking himself under my arm. I stroked his hair as reassuringly as I could as he now trembled without restraint, although he did try to keep himself from crying by breathing in deeply.
"Where's Hibiya and Sakuraya?" I asked.
"In their room." he stared up at me with his big magenta eyes full of an innocence I was more than envious of. "I think they went to bed."
'Good, at least they won't get caught in the crossfire.'
I sighed again and lied my head back, closing my eyes against my headache.
'Izaya's probably going to sleep over at Shiki's house tonight once Dad cools off.'
I turned off my lamp and pulled the blankets up over Psyche and I, the hum of yelling, cursing, and screaming coming in through the walls.
'Let's hope Dad'll fall asleep afterward.'
Another day.
And more of the same old stories.
"Idiot, watch where you're going!"
"Can't you walk straight?! Geez!"
"Klutz!"
"Look, look, there goes Mizuzu."
"Oh my god, she's such a hussy."
"Right? Look how short that skirt is."
"Gross."
"Hey, hey, did you see that kids glasses?"
"He must be really blind to have dorky glasses that thick."
"Bet you ten bucks I can break them."
"Haha, do it!"
Always the same old, same old.
People always hating other because of appearance, ethnicity, cliques.
"Hey, watch yourself around that black kid."
"Why? He a thug?"
"Obviously! He's black!"
Filled with prejudice ideas and stereotypical normality's.
"God, Kuro is such a greaser."
"Isn't he?"
"I heard his mom's a hooker."
"I heard a stripper."
"Does it matter which? There're probably both true."
Spreading rumors and hate everywhere they go. All the time. Every hour of every day.
Always, always, always.
Always!
Everyone is always so cruel!
WHY?!
Why does everyone have to knock someone down to bring them up?!
Why is everyone so hateful!
No one.
No one's ever says anything nice.
Always thorns and venom. Always anger. Always vile.
Why is the world like this?!
Why is everyone—
"Uh-uhm, excus-excuse me. Are-are you okay?"
…
Huh?
Okay?
That's a new one.
Wait, this voice wasn't echoing up from the vent.
I looked up at a blond-haired boy whose red eyes rivaled my own.
A Heiwajima.
This was the youngest one, I think. At least, he looked the youngest, with a huge white scarf and big glasses-covered, innocent eyes: eyes that hadn't seen the ugliness of the world yet; eyes that were still vibrant and full of life.
Opposite of my own red orbs.
I glared at him and turn my head away.
He's probably lying, anyway. Faking to show concern for me because I was an orihara. What a joke that would be if a Heiwajima actually tricked an Orihara into trusting him. I'd make myself the laughing stock of the school, or worse, I'd make Izaya the laughing stock. In any other case that'd be fine but not this one. He'd be pissed at this. And he was quite the scornful 'woman'.
No, this was definitely just him playing a game. If he thought that just because he was innocent like Psyche I would believe his lies, he was dead wrong. Even Psyche knew better than to try and fake friendliness with the Heiwajima's.
This kid sure had guts to screw with me.
But I decided the best way to get him to disappear was to ignore him. If I let him know I had no interest in this game, he would most-likely leave.
"Um, is-is it alright if I sit with you?"
…
Wait, he's asking? Most people just take, right?
I turned my back on him completely.
"Pa-Pardon my intrusion."
He sat down.
I felt his hand brush mine and I quickly cast him a glare over my shoulder, yanking my limb away.
"S-Sorry." He said, a blush crossing his cheeks.
I glowered at him and shimmied over so we weren't touching anymore, although I decided I shouldn't have my back to someone who hates me and so returned to sitting against the wall.
What is with this brat?
Sorry? Seriously? No one ever apologizes for stupid stuff like that.
The blond looked at me and blushed then cleared his throat and went about pulling out his sketchbook from his bag.
Something caught my eye when he opened it. But I didn't spend my time looking. Instead, I turned my head away and stared at the people walking down below in front of the bottom of the vent. A while back I found out a way to get to the roof—which was off limits for suicidal prevention reasons—and so I could sit up here without anyone seeing me and hear all they had to say by the vent behind my back. In truth, they could see me if they looked up but rarely did the kids of this school look up at the sky—their noses were usually in their cell phones.
As I stared, I was aware that the other students weren't as intriguing as the one next to me. This brat peeked my interest a lot more, the big question of, 'how did he find his way up here, too,' hovering at the front of my mind, but there was no way I'd admit that or ask that question.
But I couldn't help sparing him a glance. He was working hard on a picture that I couldn't see.
He glanced up at me.
I quickly turned away, my cheeks burning at getting caught staring. But I didn't feel as embarrassed as his cheeks performed the same flush of red.
This was awkward. I didn't want to talk to him but not talking was bad, right?
I glanced at him again.
Nah, he's working so diligently that it's not an issue if I keep quiet.
This was...
Actually pretty nice.
All my brother's had their own little bundle of friends to hang out with at lunch while I didn't have any friends and I don't like gluing to one of my siblings. So, actually having company...It was pretty nice.
Then the bell rang. The blond jolted and let out a small curse before grabbing an eraser.
As he went about removing his mistake, I finally leaned over to stare at the picture.
My eyes widened.
The blond stood, turning the bag to put the sketchbook in.
Yoink!
I snatched it from him and opened it back up.
"Eh?!" His eyes widened and he looked at his empty hand as if he couldn't register it wasn't there. Then he glanced back at me, and his cheeks turned so red, he could have been a tomato's cousin. "Wa-wa-wait! Don't look!"
I held him away at arm length with my hand to his forehead as I flipped through the book.
"Are you a pervert or something?"
"I-I—"
"Why the heck do you have so many drawings of me?"
The blond didn't answer. He was looking down at the ground, the sun reflecting off his glasses so his eyes were hidden from me. His face was red all the way up to his ears.
"So-sorry. I'm really, really sorry."
"You got a crush on me or something? I ain't gay so sorry, go find someone else."
"I-I-I'm not—I'm not gay! I-I just..." he began to tremble and tears of embarrassment caked his bottom eyelids.
Hm? Curious reaction. Quite an honest reaction, in fact.
"I just th-think..." he started to wring the end of his scarf between his hands. "I-I al-always see-see you—"
"Quit stuttering. I can't understand you."
His shoulders stiffened and he clenched his teeth.
Then he let it out in one fell swoop.
"You're always sitting here alone away from everyone else, just watching everyone below, so I just thought you looked really lonely! So I thought I'd try talking to you but-but I got nervous so I didn't! So, I decided I'd try watching everyone like you do to see what's so interesting and I...I noticed that your skin is so pale and your hair's such a pretty black! The way the sun shines off it illuminates your features and your eyes are such a vibrant red—"
"What are you trying to say here?" I cocked a brow, the question of 'how did you get up here' on the tip of my tongue.
He clenched his teeth.
"I'm saying you have a pretty face!"
HAH?!
"I mean, when I first saw you I thought you were a girl and—"
"Who are you calling a girl?!" I stood and thwacked him on the head with the sketchbook. "You're more of a girl than I am with that huge friggen scarf! Honestly, I wouldn't doubt if you trip over it! And I'm not pretty! You don't call guys pretty! You call them handsome! I'm handsome! Big difference, you tard!"
He didn't answer holding his head.
"I'm...sorry. My brothers don't like it when I secretly draw them either—"
"That's not the issue here! And I never said I didn't like it!"
"Eh?" he stared up at me, wide-eyed.
My eyes widened too. Did I really just say that?
I blushed. "No, I didn't mean that! Just don't-don't go jumping to conclusions! I mean, you're good at drawing so you should keep doing it..."
He smiled up at me.
"What're you smiling about? Stop it, creeper."
"Sorry. No one's ever said my artwork's good."
I glowered at that.
"Then they're as blind as they are stupid."
His smile fell a little at that. "No need to be mean."
I didn't answer.
"But thank you." He stood and smiled at me with that happy grin. "You're really nice."
My cheeks burned.
"Who's nice?!" I grabbed both ends of his scarf and tugged. "I'm not nice! I'm just telling the truth, stupid!"
"Tmt hmrts."
"Good, you deserve it, stupid!"
I released him, nonetheless—not because I was worried of hurting him. No way would I worry about that! I just didn't want him to faint because I strangled him because then I'd have to deal with it! That was definitely the reason! Nothing else!—and he smiled up at me again.
"You're pretty cute." He grinned near maliciously as he adjusted his scarf. "Maybe I am falling for you."
My ears burned. Where the heck did that come suddenly?!
"I'm not cute! I swear, I'm gonna hit you!"
"You are hitting me."
"Then I'll hit you harder!"
I'm just telling the truth." He chuckled.
"Keep that kind of truth to yourself—wait, truth?! You're not really falling for me, are you?!"
"No, that was joke."
"Don't joke like that to another guy, you wierdo romantic!"
"Eh? But your reaction was so cute—"
"Stop calling me cute!"
Five minutes later, the cheeky blond sat on the ground, rubbing his bruises. I stood huffing with my fists clenched.
"Honestly, don't say weird things to people you don't know."
He stared up at me.
Then he held his hand out.
I cocked a brow in confusion. Maybe he wanted help up? When did he get the idea that I actually liked him enough to help him up?
But even as I thought that, I grabbed it.
"I'm Tsukishima Heiwajima." He shook my hand. "And you are?"
...So, he was a Heiwajima, huh?
Wait, he doesn't know who I am? As I sat staring at his face, I was more than certain that this was the boy that got shooed down the alleyway when Shizuo threw the ice at me. He didn't get to see the damage his brother did and maybe because of all the bandages, he couldn't recognize me. And if he was looking up at me from below then he probably couldn't see my face very well.
So, when I tell him my name, this little encounter would end, wouldn't it?
I felt dread race up my spine. I didn't want this to end...I really didn't want this to end!
But he was staring up at me expectantly, waiting for me to answer his question.
Should I lie about my name? Should I pretend to be someone else?
Wait, why the heck would I do that? He's not going to accept me anyway, right?
"Hachimenroppi Orihara..."
I expected his eyes to widen in shock and realization. I expected him to yank his hand away and tell me it was time for him to go.
But...
"Now you know me." He smiled.
I glowered at him. Either he was oblivious of the war our older brother's had created between us, or he blatantly didn't care.
Or was he the type of person who threw his weapon down in hopes others would do it, as well?
He's just too trustworthy. Too bright. Too...
Perfect.
This was way too perfect. Never having any friends then finding one out of the blue? No, having one find me out of the blue? Someone who actually likes me and doesn't think I'm creepy or intimidating. There's no way...something that great could happen.
My mind was screaming at me that this was all a trick. That Shizuo put him up to it so he could get under Izu's skin.
But...
This hand was warm.
The complete opposite of mine.
Even if it was just a ploy and won't last long, can't it be okay to let this little light stay in my life?
"If it's not too much to ask," Tsuki started, blushing a little. "Can we meet up again tomorrow? I'd like to talk to you again."
I stared down at him, my cheeks showing the same blush. "...Sure..."
"Eh~? Roppi's in uncharacteristically high spirits. What happened?" Izaya asked.
"I...I think I made a friend..."
"Eh?"
My cheeks were flushed with happiness as I sat with my knees to my chest.
"I'm so happy right now. I want tomorrow to hurry up already."
"Roppi's taking weird. Anyway, it's time to go home so quite being a love-struck puppy and come on."
"Go die."
So, this was a creative writing assignment about cliques. I changed the names so it was 'original' but ultimately is was DRRR! fic.
So, yeah, I'm not sure if I'll continue this. It may just be a oneshot *le shrug* depends on if I get into the mood to do stuff.
Enjoy!
Kittycatkyla