Stupid Violent Bitch.
She held her breath slightly, the only visible trace of her annoyance being the sharpening of her glare at the three words scrawled all over her locker. In purple glitter lipstick, no less-the kind that no girl would actually wear on her face save when drunk. It wouldn't take long to wipe off, but the mess would stain the wooden kendo locker permanently. One could barely make out the name Shinonono, slathered as it was in the purple mess.
I am not going to be angry.
Her mind told her that, but still she seethed. It wasn't the first time she'd seen this insult, and by now she knew it wasn't going to be the last. This had happened at the school she went to before, and all the schools long before that. The place and people changed, but the insults didn't.
Shinonono Houki quietly opened up her vandalized locker, taking out her Kendo gear in silence. If any of the other girls in the club noticed or knew anything, they kept their silence on it. They all gave her a wide berth, not once meeting her suspicious gaze.
I will not be angry.
Slowly she encased herself in the padded armour, the memories within her retained from how far back the insult went. The Shinonono family taught Kendo for decades, and the tradition passed on to Houki as she had only a disinterested elder sister and no brothers. Her ability with the sword even as a child was exceptional, something that other students took a dislike to.
At first it was mainly from boys. Some simply could not accept being beaten at Kendo by a much younger girl. Others outright disliked her personality. The first insults began by simply calling her a tomboy. Houki's response had been simple: she kept silent and proceeded to beat them even worse.
I am not getting angry. I am getting even.
The insults did not stop then. Most simply did not say them to her face. Those who still did ensured they would never be caught-Houki could still remember rubbing wax crayon off of her desk as a child.
It all came to a head when three boys in her elementary class cornered her after school. At that point, Houki was perfectly willing to fight. The threat of punishment meant little, as she simply wanted to silence the insults once and for all.
The incident never came to that. Her childhood friend stood up for her, took the blame for the fight.
The only friend she ever had.
The noise of the judges' voices snapped her out of her memories. The kendo matches began, and Houki chided herself for allowing herself such a moment of weakness.
I must focus.
Houki tried not to fall into the old sentiments again, even as she slowly thought of someone she wished was there. Someone whom she knew would cheer for her like the other competitors had.
Because at this small competition she was alone. No parents, friends or family waited for her.
Ichika. She tried not to think of Ichika. She remembered the insults and bullying, but not the faces of the bullies. The one she did recall was her childhood friend, one she had not seen for almost a decade. Houki had begun to warm to him, began to find something she could put faith in. And yet, in a single day this all changed.
The day her sister changed the world.
Resentment. An ill will against another person's perceived slight.
Tabane, Houki's elder sister. The elder Shinonono was technological genius. Inventor of the prototype strength-enhancing suit that was now known worldwide as the IS: Infinite Stratos. That exoskeleton, and the White Knight incident that followed, turned her world upside-down.
Not a week had passed since the incident, when the Japanese Government split the family under the premise of protecting them. To Houki, it was the family's death knell.
Her sister's fault.
Confusion. A failure to grasp the situation.
She was not even ten, and it all made no sense to her. One day she and her family were taken away. Houki did not even see Ichika before she left, much less her sister Tabane. From then on, each year was a new place and new school. Always a new situation to adjust to.
As she grew older, things began to fail. Nothing made sense. She saw her parents less, and her sister never. The only contact was by phone, and Tabane would always answer in a joking tone.
Houki swore she was being mocked at every turn.
Frustration. The inability to express oneself and be understood.
The insults did not stop. From school to school, the result was the same. Houki would join that school's Kendo club, excel at the sport. But still, the insults were there. Somewhere along the path from childhood to womanhood, the insult changed from the relatively mild 'Tomboy' to the more pointed 'Bitch'.
And this time, no one stood up for Houki but herself.
From then on, Houki always wore a frown. It was much easier than having to explain how she felt to everyone. Moving from town to town, staying long enough only to complete each year of schooling. Not enough time for friends, and Houki was not interested in making any.
Anger. Focus.
Houki did not hear her name called from the judges' booth. To her, in her state of mind, it was just the same exact insult she had heard all her life. Anonymously written, people wanting to belittle her without the courage to say it to her face.
Cowards never have the courage to face you.
The mask covered her scowl as it turned into a snarl, grip tightening on the shinai as she pointed the tip at her opponent's face.
It wasn't much of a fight. She simply destroyed anyone who faced her in competition. The lesser ones tread back when Houki screamed, a terrible cry of kiai that came with a brutal blow. The braver ones stood ground only to be crushed by nothing less than her will.
A will backed by a heavy sword-hand.
I will crush cowards like you.
A horrible kiai and the fall of a bamboo sword saw another opponent beaten.
Hit them harder.
Power was nothing without precision. Although Kendo was a watered-down 'sport' version of the way of the sword, some basics still applied. Wrist, head and body were all valid targets. And a thrust to the throat needed no explanation. She did not apologize for the attack, and did not regret her actions.
I will not cry, Houki told herself. And she did not. I will not cry unless it is something I truly regret.
There was a horn, and the judges raised the flag in Shinonono's favour.
Houki stood silent as her opponent's teammates and coach appeared, gently lifting their compatriot away. Houki had no such allies. She had no such limitations in her mind, supporting herself with nothing but the force of will.
The voice she heard turned her gut and stabbed her heart.
"Stupid," the sobbing of an utterly destroyed spirit could be heard behind the mask. "Stupid, violent bitch."
They took her opponent away, a shattered shell of the person she fought.
I should be angry, Houki realized as she heard the long-oft used insult coming from her sobbing opponent's lips. I really should be.
But for the life of her, she could not feel anything other than guilt.