Chapter 1 - First Encounter

Japan - 3 years and 5 months ago-ish

Ri POV

"Stupid, F*cking teacher. Think you're so smart! When the hell am I ever gonna use algebra?" I grumble to myself, as I walk down the dark winter streets of Somewhere in Japan. The sun has set, the radiance of the day long ago faded to the inky depths of twilight, and darkness has crept over the tiny town in which I live, signalling for the streetlights to bring light. They are starting to glow, although their rays make no difference. They're all broken, and the dim orange glimmer they emit is swallowed up immediately by the obsidian pool of the night. I am walking alone along the empty, cobbled roads, in temperatures of 2°. The path is littered in puddles of water that have collected between the stones, and in the dips in the abandoned streets of the old side of town. I kick a loose rock into a puddle.

As I walk past the tiny brick clock tower, in what used to be the town square before the town was built up to modern standards, I glance up at the little round face embedded in the stone. For Many years, the townspeople have believed that the clock is broken. The only reason it's still there, is because of town history. Not that anyone cares about what used to happen in this dilapidated village. Anyway, I know for a fact that the timepiece still works; it's just a little behind time, that's all. Whatever the clock reads, minus 3 hours and 21 minutes, and that's the correct time. Right now it says 11:53.

The reason I am returning home from school at 8:32, is that my teacher decided that I needed to go to a 'catch-up class' *coughcoughdetentioncoughcough*. And apparently, 'catch-up class' involves cleaning the entire school, and setting up for tomorrow's fair all on my own. Which took f*cking forever. The whole time, I had the STUPID b*tch of a teacher shadowing me, criticising my work, and spilling her coffee. It took all of my willpower not to punch her and walk out of the school, never to return.

Usually, I am quite a happy-go-lucky kind of person, who is the biggest klutz in the whole world, with the most f*cked up and insane mind of all the human beings on planet earth, who does not like to be around fellow earthlings. However, I don't put up with Sh *t. Which is probably how I've ended up with so many detentions and enemies in students and teachers alike. My only true friend, Sebastian, is not really welcome at my school, so mostly, I'm alone.
Anyway, I'm in a bad mood now, incase you hadn't guessed.

I raise my head, pushing my shoulder-length platinum hair away from my neck, my pale skin shimmering brightly in the icy starlight. My large blue orbs reflect the waning silver moon, and a sigh escapes my lips. One of my small hands reaches up to my neck, brushing against the black choker that was a gift from my grandmother on her deathbed. I stay in this position for a few seconds, before shaking out my head,and continuing on my way down the dark streets. Mom will be worried if I'm not home soon. She worries way too much. At least, she does when she's not completely intoxicated. Drinking is a family habit of my mom's side. I pray that I won't inherit that trait from her. I'd rather be like my dad's side when it comes to that particular subject.

My arm begins to ache, and I switch my bag to my other shoulder, pulling out my phone. Unravelling the wire, I shove my black headphones over my ears, and scroll through my playlist, not really paying attention to my surroundings. There's not really a lot to see when everything outside of the 2 meter bubble around you is a wall of impenetrable darkness. I barely notice when I come into the modern half of town, as there is pretty much no difference, apart from the fact that the streetlamps work, and the road is tarmac not cobblestone.

Walking along the concrete pavement, my head lost in a cloud of My Chemical Romance and Panic! At The Disco, I don't really notice when I start crossing the road. My head briefly flicks up, checking that the abnormally large road is clear, before jolting back down, and I continue to cuss under my breath, when something sharply tugs at my spine, some invisible force, making me turn to stone in the middle of the street. My body freezes over, I can't move. It's like someone broke my spine, paralysing me. I look up.

Speeding towards me, that was definitely not there when I began to cross, I'm certain of it, is a sleek black car

I'VE BEEN HIT! Jk, jk. It pulls to a halt, literally an inch away from me.

One of the back doors open, and this dude steps out. "Hey, lady! Watch where you're going, we almost hit you!" he yells angrily at me. My eyes narrow as I hear his stupid, cocky voice, and I shoot a death glare at him. "Watch where I'M goin'?!" I shout back, my rage from earlier stirred and multiplied. The nerve of this f*cker! Trying to run me down in his fancy, beautiful, clearly expensive car, and then yelling at me like it's my fault! I can practically feel a vein pulsing in my head as I continue with my rant. " Look here, you motherf*ckng ass, there was no fancy f*cking car when I started crossing this sh*tty road!" My voice grows in anger and volume. Apparently, the fact that a scrawny little 13 year old like me posses a sailor's mouth has shocked his undersized brain to silence. As he begins to function again, anger slowly dawns on his face like the new sunrise. He growls, and storms round to the front of the car.

He glares down at me, with a death stare that almost rivals mine, and grabs hold of the collar on my shirt, and lifts me off the road as easily as if I were a Ri-sized feather. Hell, this is embarrassing. I don't enjoy the feeling of being a motherf*cking Ri-sized feather. My feet dangle off the ground, as he is about a foot taller, and several year older than I am. The strength of this Ri-squashing b*stard surprises me, taking away my ability to speak for several seconds. As my mouth is no longer co-operating, all i can do is observe with eyes that feel like they could shoot a b*tch-frying laser-beam. Actually, that would be very useful right now…

Observations of the Ri-squashing b*stard: he has messy red hair, and catlike, acidic green eyes that feel like they are burning their way into my soul. Oddly enough, I find him... rather attractive... Goddamn my female hormones! He appears to be the I-don't-give-a-sh*t type, and is a kind of… clothaphobic? Anyway, despite his way-too-good looks (GODDAMMIT, STOOOOOOOP THINKING LIKE THIS, RI! HE'S PROBABLY GOING TO F*CKING MURDER YOU!) I've decided that I don't like the b*stard. "Put me down, you f*ck mothering pussy!" I yell, my voice finally returning to me. His intimidating stare intensifies, as his mesmerising radioactive lime-coloured eyes narrow, and his grip on my shirt tightens. "Who the f*ck do you think your talking, B*tch?! Huh?! Ore-sama will not be disrespected in that way!" He shouts back at me, fury coating his voice. I make a whole new level of death-stares, pouring all my anger into the glare. Maybe if I concentrate hard enough, I'll burn a hole in his pale skin... "Did you just call me a b*tch, cookie?!" I hiss, venom dripping from every syllable, heavy layers of sarcasm suffocating the final word, ignoring the tiny little logical voice in the back of my mind which is screaming 'shut up shut up shut up SHUT UP!' as loud as it can.

Both of us have murderous intent glittering in the swirling maelstrom of raging anger of our eyes, but something feels off about him… I involuntary shiver, as my body picks up invisible waves of the dark aura curling off of his (gorgeous) person, that seem to wrap around me, freezing my mind as if it's laced with a paralysing cruelty. Every nerve ending in my body is thrown into an absolute bedlam of confusion, as my core instincts scream at me to get the hell away from this psycho. So I do what anyone would do in a situation like this.

My foot lashes out, surprisingly quickly, and his grip loosens considerably. I'm dropped to the floor, my feet buckling as I hit the earth. I stumble backwards, trying to regain the non-existent balance of a full time klutz, my head spinning. Adrenaline kicks in, and my head is suddenly clear. Leaving the immobilised, doubled-over creep behind me in a cloud of dust, I sprint away from the crime-scene faster than I've ever moved before in my entire life. My Phs Ed teacher would be so proud of me.