He kept on moving forward until her back touched the cold wall. He put his hand on the side of her head to prevent her from turning away; the other holding his tonfa just mere inches away from her jaw.

"Tell me, and don't lie," he asked, his voice enough to make grown men cry and piss their pants off. "Why did you start a food fight in the cafeteria?"

Her gaze was unwavering and he knew she wasn't scares. Though she didn't look brave, either. He didn't like how he couldn't tell what she's thinking.

There was a tiny hint of a smile playing on her lips, yet she didn't dare show it to him. Instead, she spoke, and her voice—just like her eyes—was lifeless yet so beautiful at the same time: "It was… so peaceful, and the people looked bored," her voice lowered, "It felt so dead."

He was itching to drive his tonfa to her face and cut bruises on her skin, like red splotches of paint on clear white canvas. He thought of how her beautiful voice might sound when she cries out in agony. However, he restrained himself and moved his weapon a bit, letting her face touch the cold metal.

"How dare you cause disruption in Namimori," he snarled.

Her look didn't change one bit. He wondered if there was still some life left in her body; afraid she might not speak again. However, her lips moved and said in the same tone:

"I was merely doing everyone a favor."

His eyes visibly twitched and he wondered how long he could keep himself from making her scream in pain. He stopped in mid-thought. That didn't sound right.

"… and you," she added, almost as an afterthought.

He was starting to hate that voice, her steady gaze, the cold lifelessness of her eyes, the way her lips would curl whenever she spoke, the dark contrast between her hair and her skin, the seemingly endless number of details about her he couldn't help but notice, and how every bit of them gets stuck in his mind. His irritation was starting to get the best of him, and he dug his tonfa deeper into her skin.

"What are you saying?" He saw her wince in pain for a moment.

"You're bored, are you not?" her look was all-knowing, yet there was something else in her eyes he couldn't explain.

"Me?" He smirked. "Bored?" The pressure of his tonfa was enough to create a bruise on her cheek. "Don't you mess with me."

Her head tilted a bit to the side and searched his face. "Yes," she said, her voice lowering he had to lean in a bit to hear her words. "Your eyes."

He raised his eyebrow, "What about them?"

"It's the same thing over and over, isn't it? All these delinquents you get to punish every single day. They're all the same. It's becoming a pattern. You beat some people up, then go back to the reception room and look down from the window, where you look for another poor soul to pass your frustration unto. And the cycle goes on, until you go home at the end of the day and think of how dreadful your day has been, and how the next day will be, as well. And the next, and the next…"

She sighed, and this time, her breath tickled his face. "If only something… will suddenly come up and change that…"

Her look was still vacant, searching and wandering in his eyes. "Your eyes," she repeated, "they look so fierce and frightening, enough to make other people cower in fear under your scrutinizing gaze." She paused for a bit and blinked, then continued: "There is something else in them, however. A look of longing. A longing for something different; something that will make you feel alive again. It's saddening to think they almost look," she searches for the right word, "…lonely."

Her eyes were void of any life, yet her stare was so intense he couldn't take his eyes off them. Suddenly, his gaze wondered to her mouth and thought of ways to shut her up. He idly wondered how it might taste when pressed against his.

That was when he became aware of how long they were looking at each other, and as he lowered his hand to let her go, her hand brushed against his. It was cold and lifeless, like every bit of her, and he hated how her touch sent shivers down his spine and gave him a tingling sensation. He dismissed that feeling and turned away, walking towards the window.

"Go now," he said after a few moments of silence. He turned towards her, his eyes fixed on her face. "Don't think that I'm letting you go because what you did wasn't punishable. Just do that again and I'll make sure you'll regret disrupting the peace of Namimori High."

The smile was now evident in her eyes, but it wasn't the sort that made her look like the winner. It was simply a form of gratitude. He looked down upon the horde of herbivores flocking and making their way out of the school gates, just like he always had.

Old habits really die hard.

thanks for reading guys! So, yeah, about the title, uhhh, it could mean a lot of things. i don't wanna sound like i just picked that up from the last line. duh. or from linkin park's song! (loved that, by the way!)