"Will Ayame, room 3-14 please report to the principal's office immediately."
The P.A system rang throughout the quiet classroom of 3-14 where students were writing their tests. The silence was broken, however, by the announcement from the office that had sent for Ayame. Not being a prompt nor disciplined class, there was a sudden outburst of murmurs and ruckus throughout.
There were the dumbfounded, "They sent for Ayame?"
Then there came the jokes... "Ooh, the top student's in trouble now!"
Of course, then there were people who decided to take advantage of the situation. "What's the answer for number five? Quick, you asshole, tell me!"
"Quiet!" The teacher screamed and banged her fist on the desk as the students snapped back into fake silence. "Ayame, you heard the announcement. Finish your test after lunch."
"Yes, miss." Ayame said obediently and put all her stationary away and handed her test to the teacher before straightening her kilt to go down. She wondered what she had done. Maybe it was one of her cousins or her mother who was there to come pick her up for an early appointment, or maybe it was just to go pick up some papers for her teacher. Pushing back her glasses that fell onto the bridge of her nose, Ayame sighed and ran down the tiled stairs to the office.
--
"Keep your hands off of the report cards, Bankotsu." The secretary snapped for what seemed like the millionth time, trying hard not to lose patience at the notorious braided boy who seemed oblivious that she was even talking to him.
"Whoa, who the hell is this shithead?" He muttered under his breath as he filed through the marks of 60s and 50s."This kid couldn't even get a job at a drive-thru."
"Don't swear in the office!" The secretary burst out, a purple vein protruding from her tight forehead. She stomped over and wiped all the report cards from the desk into a cardboard box that Bankotsu had taken them out from. "Young man, you really are going to get it one day and you won't be smiling then!"
"Just one question I'd like to ask you, miss." A seductive grin swept over his face, mischief twinkling in his lavender eyes. "I'd just like to know…"
She looked up behind her square framed spectacles, giving the least of her attention. "What?"
"Is your forehead naturally that tight, or are you a Botox bride?"
The secretary was about to curse loudly at him, and she would have if Ayame hadn't come striding into the room. As she regained her poise with great patience, Ayame stood on the other side of the room, her curious green eyes observing the office for her kin. The secretary stood up and pointed a trembling finger towards the principal's office, signalling both of them to get in there before Bankotsu did anything else that would break her.
"Why, hello, Ayame." the boy winked suggestively. She gave a slightly snobbish snort which erased the grin off his face.
Ayame stared at the braided boy before she realized who he was; he was Bankotsu, the boy who was well known as the school's juvenile delinquent. He was always out of uniform; and right then and there wasn't any different from anytime else. His shirt was untucked, His collar not buttoned up, and his name tag was nowhere to be seen. And what was with the silver chain with the dog tag? Ugh. How cliché.
"Ladies first." Bankotsu said as he strided over to the door to the principal's office in two bounds and held the door open for Ayame like a polite gentleman. As Ayame hesitantly walked through the door, Bankotsu gave the secretary a wink and a smile.
"What I meant by Botox bride," he said, "was you're looking pretty foxy for a lady hitting her fifties."
--
"Please, take a seat." Principal Kaede said as she shuffled through some papers and held out a yellow sheet to Ayame and a purple sheet to Bankotsu. Her graying hair was tied tightly into a bun and she was dressed up so businesslike that anyone could have mistaken her for a shrewd businesswoman. "Ayame, I wish to comment you on your lack of community service hours…"
"Excuse me?" Ayame replied with a tint of aggressiveness to her voice.
"Your graduation requires community service hours." Kaede sighed. "All two hundred of them over the three years of high school. And you barely have twenty, Miss Ayame. You'd better live it up soon or else when graduation comes, you'll be forced to watch your peers graduate while you stay back."
"But I did do them!" she complained. "I worked over three HUNDRED hours at my father's store during the summers, and don't tell me they don't count!"
"They don't." Principal Kaede said without any sympathy. "Any other person would have had to be paid for that job. What you did was merely help out at your father's store, not volunteer."
"Sucker." Bankotsu snickered to himself, but quickly plastered on an intended fake smile as Kaede turned her words on him.
"And you, Bankotsu, I don't know how you managed to get through the first and second year. But your grades are dropping, this is senior year, and I want YOU to buckle up."
Bankotsu said nothing and suddenly turned interested in curling the tip of his braid with his finger. Kaede went into a coughing fit, stopped, and continued.
"However, it has come to my attention that you have already registered your two hundred service hours in the first year, and that is to be praised. Now, don't get a smug face, Bankotsu. I will pair you up with one of our academically smart students to help you to pull up your marks by the time you graduate."
"…and who…might that be…?" Bankotsu questioned slowly as his head snapped up and turned abruptly a finger towards Ayame's direction."
"Her!" Bankotsu bellowed as he pointed a finger to Ayame.
"Him!" Ayame screamed just as loudly as she pointed a finger to Bankotsu.
"Yes, exactly what I was thinking." Kaede said calmly at the dumbfounded teens. "Of course, Ayame, you will help Bankotsu until the rest of the year until I see some progress in his marks; don't make that face at me, girl, I will give you service hours for it as well. Bankotsu, you will be able to pull up your marks, so there's a fair deal for you."
"Don't I get anything?" Bankotsu complained harshly.
Kaede locked her fingers and said, "Your reward will be a good report card and a promising future. I think that should be more than good enough for you. Now away you two go."
--
Taking off her glasses and wiping the glaze of sweat that trickled of her forehead, Ayame walked dazed out of the office with Bankotsu striding a few steps behind her. As both walked up to the third floor back to their separate classes, Ayame let out a sigh. Unfortunately, Bankotsu had heard and decided to comment against it.
"So you don't want to teach me, do you?" he growled menacingly. Ayame turned and shot back,
"I don't want to teach you, you don't want me teaching you. We're square, I should say."
"Well, well, I can't wait for you to fill my worthless brain with all your scholarly knowledge, Oh great one." came his sarcastic reply. "Seriously, I have better things to do than having to hang around at this shithole all day."
"Then why don't you just drop out already and save yourself trouble?" Ayame said snappishly, not giving much of a thought to it. Bad choice of words, she thought, for the next thing she knew she was slammed against a wall and Bankotsu's fist was next to her head. With a leer he snickered.
"How the hell would you know, you and your rich and privileged life?" He sniffed her hair deeply that made her shiver. 'Wearing Channel, toting your Gucci backpack. You don't know the meaning 'life's a bitch,' do you? Having everything handed to you on a platter, it must be a hell of a thrill. No?" he said quite matter-of-factly, spitting his words like venom through firmly clenched teeth. Ayame regretted ever responding to him and prayed that a teacher would come and spot them. No one came. After a long, eerie silence Bankotsu broke it.
"What time is it?" he asked.
"It's thirty minutes to the bell." she answered, watching him shuffling in his bag. Taking out a stash of papers, he tied them together with elastic, took out a cigarette and put it behind his ear. He handed the messy bunch to Ayame and said,
"Take that to Room 3-7. That's for my teacher."
And he went down the stairs without looking back. A while passed before all she heard were the buzzing of flies. She turned her heel and walked to Bankotsu's class thinking,
'Fine, if I can't change any of this, I might as well do this shit!' Ayame grunted and looked at the stash of papers, and couldn't help but snort as she looked at a huge stain of what looked like coffee. Her face wrinkled at the juvenile state of his work.
Then she thought for a moment and cocked her eyebrow. '... HOW in the world does he know I'm wearing Channel?'
--
Bankotsu rushed down the stairs, leaving the dazed redheaded nerd gaping after him. Every step of the way downstairs made the empty hallways ring with his stomping and panting. His lungs felt as if they would burst.
He needed a fix. A cigarette. Now. Right now. He couldn't stand that yuppie-spawn bitch frolicking before him, her and her tra-la-laing ditzy friends, and her sarcastic 'oh I'll teach you because you're a lowlife and you don't know any better, tut tut!"
He was barely out the door as he lit up his first joint and brought it up to his mouth. As he walked behind the garbage can, he stopped abruptly at the sight of another person already puffing away on his turf. His turf! Any jackass knew that no one smoked here but him. A surge of annoyance came into mind and Bankotsu intended to know who it was. Even before he could creep up on the son of a bitch the person turned around, dark hair whipping against the wind, charcoal eyes flashing.
"Bankotsu!" Jakotsu said out of excitement and received a slap across the head instead. Taking Jakotsu's cigar out of his hand and crushing it on the ground, Bankotsu gave a glare.
"You know better not to smoke." He muttered. "Not with what you have, anyways."
"Sorry, I just wanted to try it out once, that was all. I didn't really like the taste anyway; it tasted shit bitter anyway."
"Take your puffer, you never know. Come on." He said as Jakotsu fumbled around his beige backpack for his aid. Taking in three hearty inhales, Jakotsu smiled.
"This is much better than that joint. You should quit too, with the amount of smokes you blaze I might as well be smoking just as much as you do."
Bankotsu smirked. "I can't help it. Seriously. Picked up those pamphlets, went on the diet that Suikotsu offered me, went on a smoke joint strike with Ren, nothing worked. At least Ren's keeping it up quite well." He took in another puff. "It's been attached to me for about five years. What can I do?"
With a slap of the hand Jakotsu flung Bankotsu's cancer stick away into the sandpit. He looked up blankly and said, "You know, you could quit."
"Well…"
"For me?" the younger pleaded.
After a short thought, the older laughed. "Fine," he responded firmly, digging his heel into the splint that was still burning. "For you. Let's go home, it's your turn to make dinner and I'm fucking hungry."
--
Alright, maybe Jakotsu was a bit of a child, maybe a bit more so than the people his age . But boy, could that kid whip up a nice dinner and desert. Bankotsu inhaled the sweet smell of what smelled like tempura noodles and smiled as his stomach growled.
"Go call the rest of them, will you?" Jakotsu yelled across the kitchen to Bankotsu.
He lazily set aside the book he was reading and instead of going to get them, yelled for Suikotsu and Renkotsu to come eat dinner. Of course, it wasn't really necessary for them to be yelling to each other, for the little 2-room apartment block-home at the top of the building wasn't that big of a space, but the fact that it was still homey and cozy didn't change.
"Hey." Renkotsu said, entering the kitchen in only a pair of cargos. Jakotsu stared for a moment and pointed to the laundry outside the block.
"Fresh T-shirts. Grab any." He said as he expertly carried four steaming bowls of noodles and set them on the table. Suikotsu came in the room shortly after and set himself down and sighed deeply, his mind on the state of paranoia.
"What's the matter?" Bankotsu inquired.
"Something smells like a chick. It's hurting my head."
Jakotsu pointed to himself. "It's my perfume, sorry."
"Channel?"
"Yeah."
"You're weird." Suikotsu raised his eyebrows.
"You're a dick." Jakotsu said.
"Thanks."
They ate in awkward silence, only the sounds of slurping noodles and the radio turned on to a popular channel. Bankotsu felt obligated to say something.
"So, guys, what is up?" and he looked at Renkotsu, but all three started talking at once.
"My new physics prof is a bitch." Renkotsu said.
"I'm trying out for the school play tomorrow." Jakotsu said.
"Pass the salt." Suikotsu said.
Bankotsu nodded at everyone in approval and swallowed deeply. He felt that he should say something about that nerd girl having to tutor him or he would burst from the built up anger. "Guys?" he said, and suddenly all the attention was fixated upon him.
"Well…"
"Yes?" said Renkotsu.
"Well…damnit, I'll make this short. I'm gonna be tutored by a girl at our school tomorrow, so on Mondays and Fridays I'm going to be home late. Alright?"
Again, all three started talking at the same time and this time Bankotsu lifted a hand to shut them all up. He pointed at Renkotsu, as in the silence he had his hand up.
"Why?" he asked. "I mean, not 'why,' but why her? You know, we could help you like you helped us in english."
"You know what, that is a good idea. Try telling that to our uptight principal, you know how she is."
"Is it only for this week?" Suikotsu asked in between slurps of noodle.
"For the whole year." Bankotsu groaned. "That means that I still have about 51 weeks left to go. Fuck, I hate this bullshit." He complained.
At this point, Jakotsu raised a slender, feminine finger and looked blankly. "Yes?" Bankotsu sounded impatient.
Akward silence followed.
"It's nothing important, never mind." Jakotsu said quietly.
"I said pass the salt!" Suikotsu barked.
--
"Get out!" yelled Ayame. "Out, Kouga! Get out! You two, too! I can't stand it!" she threw a huge tantrum as she tried to punch her oldest cousin with no success. Kouga grabbed her by the arms and waited until she calmed down, her face scrunched into displeasure.
"Kouga, I really want to be alone."
"Your problem is mine, Ayame. I want you to remember that." He said in a calm voice and cleared his throat. Letting loose his grip, he looked her in the eye as Hakaku and Ginta leaned against the girl's bed. "Now, if you have a problem, I'll listen to you."
Saying nothing, Ayame pulled out the sheet that had been given to her and handed it to Kouga. As he skimmed over it, taking in all the information, he stared at her. "Wait, is this what you're upset over? Having to teach somebody?"
"Yes."
Kouga sighed. "Ayame, are you high? You love teaching."
"Yeah, sure, but not when my pupil's Bankotsu."
"Wait, who?"
"Bankotsu." She snorted. "The guy with the braid, you know? The guy in your class? With the dog tag and that smirk?" Ayame nodded slowly as Kouga's eyes lit up with a sense of remembrance.
"No one really knows where he came from. I'd say he's a few years older than we are, actually. He should be in University by now, but what the hell. He screwed up a few times, I guess."
"Shit. I don't want anything to do with this guy." She whined.
"Look." Kouga said with a reassuring smile. "If the guy tried to take the piss out of you, just call me and I'll call up my boys and go beat his ass. Comprende?"
"Yeah, whatever. Comprende." She mumbled.