Disclaimer: PoT does not belong to me.
This is set in an older timeline, where the third years are eighteen.
Warning: OC-centric
Beta: Eternal.Angel
Thank you to all who reviewed!
Enjoy.
You shouldn't have drunk so much.
The thought flickered in her mind, seconds before she fell forward. She gritted her teeth, frowning at the voice that sounded in her mind. Something surged upwards from within her as her stomach rejected all that foul liquid that she poured in just ten minutes ago.
I'm not drunk.
Yamada valiantly tried getting up, but only managed to get on her feet after several tries. Even with her grim determination, she could not take a step forward without leaning on the wall for support.
See? I'm fine.
Her vision was blurry. She rubbed her eyes; the lights around her still had blurred edges and the tiles on the wall were morphing into several different shapes at once.
Floating seaweed?
Yamada peered at the approaching figure.
Ugh, too bright. Yellow? Gay.
Kirihara eyed the girl from a distance. He was startled by loud belching sounds coming from the tunnel and nearly freaked out. But still, it was his only way home since it was raining, and Kirihara didn't feel like braving the thunderstorm just to avoid a drunk.
Besides, what can a drunken girl do to me?
With that, he bolstered his courage and strode across the tunnel. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and found her staring distractedly at him. He shivered. Her head lolled to one side, and her next action shocked him senseless.
Yamada giggled. A shrill, bubbly string of notes came out, like someone had just run a hand across the last few keys of the piano.
Yamada squinted at the yellow (probably, gay) man in front of her.
"Whadda starin' at?" She spat, all intimidation lost with slurred speech. Her hand slipped off the wall as she advanced towards him.
Kirihara moved backwards, holding his hands out in front of him as protection.
Whoa… Kirihara backed away slowly, as if he was faced with a frenzied horse that wanted his life (though he would rather have this than a perverted dragonfly any day). He scrunched up his nose in disgust, the acrid smell of alcohol infiltrating his nostrils. Not to mention the bitter smell of vomit.
The green-haired woman made a forward lunge; Kirihara barely managed to escape. Kirihara looked at her eyes; those glazed depths seemed to have an added emotion.
Anger.
Kirihara panicked, lifting his butt off the floor as a fist swung towards him. He was slightly thankful that she was drunk; those fists looked like they could hurt, especially since the wall cracked when her fist connected with it.
Now what did I do now?!
He's gay. Definitely.
Yamada peered at the 'floating seaweed', before taking a closer look at him.
"Whadda starin' at?"
Yamada saw (or thought she saw, her vision was haywire anyway) the amusement twinkling in his eyes. Yamada frowned.
No one laughs at me!
The amusement quickly changed into fear. Yamada watched with slight satisfaction as the boy fell to the floor, and scrambled back on his feet as he avoided swing after swing.
Now, for an uppercut!
A dull sound resounded in the tunnel as Yamada's fist connected with Kirihara's jaw.
Aha!
It was unmistakable; she wore a smirk on her face.
Kirihara tasted blood in his mouth. His vision clouded as wrath consumed him. Deep inside, he had been waiting for this. Real contact was way better than tennis balls.
"I was being nice, lady."
He rubbed the blood off the side of his mouth.
She fell backward, her right leg aiming for his head.
Kirihara ducked, his left hand shooting outwards to grab the leg. He twisted. Hard.
Pain shot through her leg; Yamada winced. Her arms flailing wildly, she managed to get him to let go.
Tough guy, huh?
Yamada tried to stand up, but fell on one knee as her right ankle failed her. Her mind was clouding again.
"I'm not done with you yet," she heard him say.
Looking up, Yamada had a momentary vision of a demon.
Red eyes.
Mikan huffed exasperatedly. The rain was still pouring, and Mikan was soaking wet.
"She always drinks too much, too full of herself."
Strolling down the steps leading to the underground pass, Mikan saw a familiar shadow.
I knew you would be there.
The pose wasn't familiar, though.
Instead of a scrunched-up, ball-like shadow, the shadow was elongated. Mikan saw another shadow next to the first. This one had an arm outstretched, and its hair was not anything like Yamada's.
Mikan rushed down the steps; there was no time to waste.
The pool of blood beneath the shadows was not comforting at all.
Damn! She's no fighter when drunk.
"Hey you!" Kirihara heard a voice shout.
Not another irritating woman again, and just when I was having fun here.
"Let go of her – whoa!" She slipped on the puddle in front, landing hard on the concrete floor. Kirihara guffawed.
"I haven't finished with her yet."
She dusted herself, and Kirihara stopped laughing. He could sense the change in the atmosphere. She was different from the one he had just dealt with. Her anger seemed to fill the entire tunnel, cackling like sparks of electricity. She held herself high, and Kirihara knew that he had felt that before.
Like royalty.
Before Kirihara could come back to his senses, her foot was already on his collarbone (1). He stared incredulously at her.
Nice legs.
Kirihara mentally slapped himself. His knees buckled; excruciating pain shot through him as he gasped for air.
I can't breathe!
Mikan caught hold of Yamada when Kirihara let go. Giving a quick examination, Mikan found that her life was in no particular danger.
"You shouldn't have tried messing with us," Mikan told him venomously. Mikan stared down at him, smirking at his desperate expression, his futile attempt for air.
I'm not done yet!
"Now, to get this girl to a doctor." he heard her say as she hoisted the injured girl on her back.
Kirihara's eyes were starting to close. He tried to speak, but breathing was already very painful. His vision swirled, and then turned into an endless black void.
Kirihara didn't feel her foot kicking his head.
Good riddance.
Mikan carried the girl roughly on her back, walking up the stairs.
Having calmed down, a sudden thought made Mikan grin gleefully. Yamada had been careless.
Punishment time!
Mikan cackled. She had waited a long time (it was only three days after she completed her punishment) for payback.
The girl on her back stirred.
"You awake?"
Her head lolled to the side, and she vomited. Again. This time, the smelly liquid was all over Mikan's green shirt. Mikan screamed inwardly.
This was brand new too!
She stared vehemently at the unconscious girl.
Damn you.
Murmurs.
Kirihara twitched his eyebrows.
"His eyebrows are moving," A familiar voice drifted into his ears. "Perhaps it would be a good time to use them now."
Kirihara shot up as pain pricked him from his sides. He stared wide-eyed at Marui, who was snickering and waggling two long fingers at him.
"Sleepyhead's finally awake!"
"Are you feeling alright?" Jackal asked concernedly.
"Yeah, we have one in hospital already; there's no need for another one." Niou piped up sarcastically.
"It's not like I wanted to be here!" Kirihara retorted, coughing. His chest still hurt.
"Do you know who hurt you?" Yagyuu asked politely.
Silence.
"I don't know." Kirihara replied grudgingly.
There's no way I'm gonna tell them I was beaten by a woman!
Sanada eyed him for a while, then turned away, as if satisfied with his answer.
"Good. You should not go find them, in any case."
"But!" Kirihara felt the pain again.
"Look at you, you can hardly talk properly! Whoever you met out there was out to end your life!"
"Indeed, the old lady who found you said that you were blue when she found you. And, the blow to your chest could have killed you by depriving you of oxygen." Yanagi said matter-of-factly.
"Whoever you met out there, he's not one you can handle." Niou piped up once more.
Kirihara gripped the sheets. They were right.
You shouldn't have tried messing with us.
Kirihara gritted his teeth, forcing himself to take shallow breaths as the pain on his chest attacked him relentlessly.
"Get some rest; we'll be leaving now," Sanada announced. "Your parents will be here shortly."
After they all bid their goodbyes, Kirihara laid back down on the hard bed, hands crossed behind his head. He was not leaving this matter alone. He still remembered the glorious red pheonix on his assailant's neck.
I'll get my revenge.
fin.
Notes:
1. Mikan hit his throat, so Kirihara's breathing mechanism went haywire.
2. Kirihara is not gay in this (I think).
3. Mikan and Sanada will meet in the next chapter.
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