Shackled Wings

by Curugane

Wings, the ultimate symbol of freedom, the ability to fly away from all life's troubles and responsibilities. But can one ever leave the cage? He wouldn't earn his wings, simply receive them, but with them he would rise as far as he ever could. But he question remains: could he use those shackled wings, or would he, like everyone else, remain grounded?

4. Chapter 3

Asia Argento looked around the darkening, by now semi-familiar room.

Being under house arrest meant that she had little else to do to fill the passing of the hours, and after having spent a little over two days in this room that was becoming gratingly obvious. She had asked to be allowed to fetch something to sew, knit or perhaps even to embroider some cloth, which had always served to pass the many quiet hours back at the monastery. Alas, the pair of exorcists tasked with watching her had shot down the request with nary more than distrusting and judgemental looks. She had had little choice but to demurely bow her head from the unusual and equally uncomfortable glares without another word being said and quickly scurry back to the relative safety that made up the edge of the bed to collect herself from the failed endeavour.

Another look back at the pair of seated men in the black coats was met in the same way as the one she sent twenty minutes earlier and the one thirty minutes before that: with stern faces and the judgemental and glaring eyes staring her down. She couldn't hold either of their harsh gazes for more than a second before her timid nature forced her to avert her eyes and study her hands with an unnecessary amount scrutiny, busying them with attempts to smooth out a barely visible nick in her thumbnail with the pad of the other.

She wasn't sure what to think or to do, a tiny and reticent voice within her said to try asking again. She was bored, after all. A significant part of her also wanted to ask for something to do if only to give her something else to think about than the men back at the monastery. Their looks and harsh words when she had carried the wounded man back were still fresh in her mind, making her almost regret healing the strange man.

NO! She harshly shook her head, the errant thought making her insides twist painfully with guilt; God tells us to act with kindness towards all creatures…

So why hadn't they…?

She had been afraid of the leather-winged man when she had found him unconscious in the fields, being named a saint meant being granted certain knowledge, after all. Knowledge such as exorcists being more warriors than saviours of possessed souls, that there was not a devil in existence, but a whole society of them searching for every viable opening to usurp and destroy Gods work… and that in contrast to the demons that she had learned of while growing up, the devils almost always took a human form.

It was the knowledge that the devils hated God and the angels and those involved with them and that she couldn't know what one would do if she ever happened to meet one that had Asia deathly afraid of the leather-winged human she had found.

But despite the fear, there was still the wish to do the right thing; it was what God would want her to do, and it was what she had been taught to do since young. Besides that, the wish to help others was a deep-seated part of her, turning a blind eye to the suffering of any being plain and simply wasn't in her. At no time during her meeting with the devil had she considered merely leaving him there, even now the thought was abhorrent. Instead, her fear had been buried underneath the very nature she had been bestowed with upon birth by God.

She hadn't been sure of how grievous his wounds were, but they had likely been more visually ugly than they were critical if the speed of healing was any indication of it. The problem had arisen after that, though. With the devil still being unconscious and Twilight Healing being unable to actually attack anything – not that she had ever actually tried doing so –, even if the said thing were harmful bacteria or viruses, she couldn't be sure if he was indeed out of danger, so she did the only thing she could think of doing.

The choice had been natural and hadn't even needed considering; the monks were kind people, and they wouldn't turn away anyone that needed help. They had taken in an orphan and watched over her like family from the first moment, after all. It was them who taught her to be kind to others, and it was their gentle guidance that had led her to be who she was today!

What had met her upon her return wasn't the kind, warm and adoring smiles that she had been so used to. Instead, their faces were painted in the picture of horror and betrayal and anger. The devil had awoken during the resulting uproar and swiftly fled the area, pursued by an enraged Father Naidoo armed with a sword of light and an exorcist gun, leaving her there alone with thirty monks demanding an explanation for aiding the devil.

By the time Father Naidoo had returned from his failed hunt several minutes later she had been desperately trying to figure out what she did wrong in helping the devil. Whatever she said though made little difference, it was as if the purest tenet of God, the one of kindness and forgiveness for all, had been forgotten.

But that was impossible; the monks were the kindest people she had ever met! So why didn't they look to help? Why did they treat her like she had done something inexcusable? They were always so wise, so intelligent and understanding… so why didn't they let her explain?

Why did they call her a witch…?

Why did they say that she had-

She shook her head, she needed something to keep her occupied, or the questions without any apparent answers would drive her insane on top of broken-hearted.

And what if she reached the wrong answer?

What if they weren't as kind as she remembered?

A silent tear escaped the corner of her eye, quickly followed by more as she shook in fear of the answers she could reach if she thought too deeply about the situation.

She wasn't sure when her hands clasped together in a prayer for guidance, and she wasn't sure when she stopped crying. All she knew was that in a single moment of kindness, the lights in her life had somehow disappeared, leaving an inky blackness surrounding her, impossible to peer through.

All she knew was that if she had faith, then God could make it right… and even if He didn't, the Heavenly Fathers embrace she could physically feel while praying would lull her to sleep, encourage her to be brave and face tomorrow with even her limited courage.

God would guide her onto the right path; she would get through this.

~-o0 April 21st, Thursday, 2016 0o- ~

Kenny lifted his gaze from his chosen piece of literature and looked at the lone, but all the same, loudly ticking, clock above the whiteboard in his 'native' classroom of 2-D. It was empty and therefore quiet, discounting the clock, a small contrast in comparison to the two or three voices he could hear from beyond the door.

7:25

He was early today. It wasn't by choice; the previous day's excitement had kept him from sleeping as well as he would have wished. That pretty much translated into nothing, so at around 4 in the morning, he made the decision to get out of bed, lest he'd risk falling asleep and not get up at all.

He knew that if he allowed himself to skip school just once it would become a habit, one he wouldn't bother fighting. Instead, he chose to arrive early and take advantage of the morning calm to get a bit of reading done.

It had been a while since he had last read the Tales of the Otori series, but the memories of the books were fond ones. Come to think about it; there were several good books that he hadn't read in a while…

Why did I stop reading?

He really couldn't say, but he would wager it was because he became more occupied with computers and gaming, and then there was fanfiction… So, he technically never stopped enjoying a good story, it only happened to move from one form to another. Still, the feel of a paperback in his hand was a nostalgic one.

He liked it.

Even more, he liked the book itself. He had only ever read the series once, and he was looking forward to completing it once and for all by reading its prequel, 'Heaven's Net is Wide'.

It was a pity that his restless mind disallowed him from enjoying it to the fullest…

It had taken longer for the ambulance to get there than he had expected. Or perhaps not, adrenaline tended to mess with one's perception of time at the best of times. Regardless, it had been the longest ten minutes of his life, as well as the most boring.

Yes, Kenny Nilsson, the new transfer into Kuoh Academy, considered saving a life a dull venture. Perhaps that was the reason it had felt like the minutes stretched into hours; the novelty of saving a life had quickly become a tedium in the face of monotony.

Breath in twice, pump thirty. Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat, rinse-and-repeat…

He had found himself more interested in the head injury that just refused to stop bleeding, even within the limits of what a head trauma should produce. It had made him look up another word in Japanese: haemophilia. He was sure the purse snatcher had the genetic disorder, the man was heavily bruised after collapsing, or so he had noticed while sitting around waiting for his turn to give the kiss of life and do compressions.

He was also sure in his labelling of the man as a purse snatcher: for a man in such a hurry, there was a considerable lack of phone calls telling him to hurry. The man's clothes weren't feminine enough for him to be a crossdresser, either, though that could be either here or there regarding where in the spectrum he identified his gender as being…

In a way, it was funny: once the attempt to save the man's life had come underway, it had become something of a commotion, with one person exchanging another in the tasks. Everyone was moving around like headless chickens despite knowing what they were supposed to do, and if they didn't, they were doing one nervous tick or another. This was in comparison to himself, who had been sitting around and coming to conclusions regarding the nature of the man that had been lacking a heartbeat. All while giving offhanded glares at the one or two idiots who thought it a good idea to bring out their phones for purposes other than what Graham Bell and the other inventors intended.

He didn't doubt that he had been nervous about the situation, on some level, a level where he didn't feel it after his first round riding the man's stealing ass. Then again, he hadn't felt it much before that either as far as he could remember, too focused on the task at hand probably.

Perhaps that had been the reason for his bad night; his mind continued to wander back to the man bleeding his brain out on the pavement and his own actions in the situation. It wasn't what he shouldn't have done that had him going back, he had acted in a calm enough manner – far more so than he had thought he would, but that might just have been a form of shock, now that he thought about it –, and had corrected himself based on what he saw the others do. He could honestly say he had done everything within his limited power to increase the man's chances of survival.

What had him feeling guilty was the feeling that had permeated him while there: the boredom. Not the fact that he had judged the man to be a criminal based on no other evidence than that the man was holding a woman's purse and had been in an apparent hurry somewhere, not the fact that he had spent his time making a profile of the man and think up reasons as to why he had turned to crime.

That had become a list in and of itself…

No, it was the boredom, all the above only came about as a way to alleviate it. That he had no problem with, if he ever were to meet the guy again and befriend him then he would be able to ignore all the conclusions he had reached on principle. It was the boredom of saving him that had him feeling like an ass. The guy had been bleeding out, and there he had been sitting around between rounds and considering which homework could be the most fun to do once he got home…

On a side note, it had been a tie between the English assignment and reading about the Heian period, neither of which he had actually done…

Then it was Kaoru; the poor girl had only been able to stand around looking at the ongoing events before he had led her away and someone had offered to keep watch over her… he hadn't done anything more than that, not said anything more than a 'come here' and 'wait here' and gone back to do compressions afterwards.

What had he been supposed to do? He honestly wanted an answer to that question, because even after having spent the night thinking about it, he couldn't think of anything but take her to a café or something to buy ice cream while leaving the others to keep the guy alive. Anything to get her mind of the image of that busted skull, really…

That, he felt, was a personal failing even worse than finding a man dying, one he was supposedly trying to save, boring…

Yet, after the ambulance had left, all he had done was allow her to silently hug him until she had calmed down enough to make their way home. There had been no tears, no bawling and no questions from the child; she had merely clung to him while lightly shaking. The fact that her parents couldn't get her to speak wasn't a solace, although that they seemed unable to find anything to say themselves was a small, albeit horrible, one. At least he wasn't the only one that couldn't think of anything to say, as bad as that sounded…

Perhaps it was a waiting game, as Touya had said… one that they maybe wouldn't have to play if he had removed her immediately instead of focusing on the guy… All Kenny could hope for now was that she had gotten a good night's sleep without nightmares of the event… he felt that that hope was shallow and without basis…

Damned if I do, damned if I don't…

So, it seemed to be the rule with everything in life, really. Coming to Kuoh was just as much a beginning as staying in Canada would have been, but this start hadn't been good in any measure of the word… Then again, school is school, regardless of country and continent. The difference, however, would have been that he wouldn't have had to learn a new language and customs if he had stayed. French perhaps, but that should, strictly speaking, not have been any more necessary than learning Spanish in the states.

A sound similar to heavy rolling marbles – or however you describe the sound, he hadn't decided yet – broke through his self-decrepitating thoughts, calling his attention to the door. He was thankful for the distraction; he wasn't getting anywhere with the book.

"You're here early, Nilsson."

"Morning Kiryuu… I didn't know you were part of any clubs." He watched as she moved over to her seat and hung her bag there, walking over towards him afterwards and sit down on an adjacent chair to talk.

"I'm not… I just like to be here early since my afternoons tend to be full, got to do that homework at some point… What about you, you found a club to join?"

He shrugged, "None I would be able to stick with for long, as soon as I'm settled in I'll have to start looking for a job of my own to do in the afternoons."

"Hmmm. Well, you better be careful; unless you have extenuating circumstances, then the board is unlikely to allow any after-school activity that doesn't involve clubs or studying. That said, you don't report me for working, and I won't report you." She gave him a grin speaking of a feeling of superiority, "Aren't I nice? I can keep two of your secrets!"

He frowned in confusion, "Yeah, yeah, you got a deal. But two?"

"Your Scooter. It's even less in agreement with the rules than any part-time job you or I will ever be able to find... except compensate dating, but I somehow doubt you would dabble in that… Though judging by the look on your face, I would wager you didn't know about that particular school rule… Here's a friendly tip, park it further away so that it's harder to find, you'll potentially save yourself a lot of trouble that way." She warned airily before curiously asking; "So what's your reason for being here a full hour before homeroom?"

Filling away her advice, he gave another shrug; he honestly didn't feel like talking to her about the previous day's events, he didn't need her judging him on his feelings. He was doing an excellent job of that himself…

No. On second thought, Kiryuu probably wouldn't do that: she was more likely to tease him about being a psychopath or something… Or she could take it seriously, after which he wouldn't know what to say…

"Thanks for the warning. Well… I couldn't sleep, so I got up ahead of time but found it boring at home, so…"

"And this is any better…" She had a point with her flat statement. "I suppose I don't blame you if you think so, though. School is surprisingly calm, so I tend to spend as much time here as possible."

Calm isn't the word I'd use to describe the afternoons…

Or the school hours… The mornings he could somewhat understand, though, he had spent the last thirty minutes undisturbed, discounting the occasional student moving through the corridor and the shouts of the sports clubs that carried through the open window from time to time. After hours could only be described as one significant disturbance in comparison…

That said, the increasing disturbance out in the hallway had been signalling the end of the morning tranquillity he had been attempting to enjoy for a little while now.

"I can see what you mean, but I'm starting to wonder just how early some people get here." He muttered out loud, looking over towards the door in a silent prayer for it to not open and leave him in the calm bubble that somehow existed at the source of one of his frustrations. Only in Japan would students come to school hours early, other youths of industrialised cultures would at least try to stay away as long as time allowed.

His faith in a lack of a god was once again reaffirmed with the opening of the door and entrance of one of his male classmates. Exchange glances were all the three did; there was no verbal greeting or even a nod before the guy skulked over to the front of the classroom and leaned against the windowsill, apparently ignoring the pair.

Kenny wasn't sure what to do now, the conversation had seemingly ground to a halt, and he couldn't think of a viable way to start it up again. In some small way, he felt that involving the other guy in the room would be mandatory if he could think of a topic to talk about...

Instead, he stiffly leafed through his book, an action that amounted to nothing, feeling awkward for being unable to think of anything to say and stupid for feeling uncomfortable to begin with. He shut the pocketbook with an audible sigh and put it away. Judging by his success in reading up till now, he doubted he would be turning many pages.

Finally, it became too much for him. He pushed himself out of his seat, the scraping of the chair catching the attention of the other two.

"Where are you going?" Kiryuu asked in minor interest. He noted that she seemed a bit too bored by the lack of happenings for someone whom allegedly enjoyed the tranquillity, but paused to consider her question all the same. He really hadn't thought that far ahead, with the ever-growing prospect of more of his classmates entering the classroom hanging overhead, he just wanted out. Maybe he would take a walk around the area, perhaps take something of a nap under a tree for a while. He'd see where his feet had taken him when they finally decided to stop moving.

"Nowhere. Everywhere. Too tired to read, so I guess I'll take a walk instead of hanging around here looking like an idiot."

"You need to work harder, then." She insulted offhandedly.

"Funny, four eyes."

"Hello kettle, I'm pot."

"He~llo~ drugs. Sit still; I'm going to go call the cops now."

From where he stood the small quirk of her lips was readily apparent, "I'll tag along, not like I got anything better to do…"

Kiryuu was out of her chair and over by the door before he had a chance to get a word in. Not like he was going to stop her either way, the way he figured he could be suffering worse company than her.

He moved calmly after her down the mostly empty corridor, ignoring the looks he was getting from the ones that recognised him but feeling puzzled at how some of them shied away from him like he was dangerous.

Whatever is happening now, I don't like it…

~-o0O0o-~

"Do you know what your problem is?", the girl with the brown braids queried, looking at him with scrutinising yellow eyes after having won yet another bout of thrown insults. "It's that you offer too much of yourself, not mentioning your tendency of making fun of yourself instead of firing back…"

"Suppose I don't dislike you enough to be angry when you smack talk me… Besides, I'm normally a bit too thick-skinned to be easily roused by others. Try knowing me for ten years; then we'll see how my patience hold up."

"… well, based upon my extensive observations-"

"Do kindly keep your mouth shut." He cut her off, "Conditions do apply."

A short, though not harsh, laugh escaped her, "They always do, don't they…"

Always do…

Circumstances had been grinding against his slowly diminishing patience for a while. He had noticed that often it wasn't noticeable to others when he was upset with them, keeping his anger of others under wraps seemed to come naturally to him. When he was angry with himself though it was a whole other ball game, the person that didn't notice that would have a complete inability to read anyone's emotions.

Regardless, in the event of either situation, he would have some chosen words for anyone he laid eyes on, just that in the case of the former he would be quietly carrying those words to his grave. There were exceptions, of course, but the list of people he didn't bother to hide his frustration and anger with was a short one.

Always did hold myself to a higher standard...

As arrogant as it sounded, he did have high, if not unreasonable, expectations of himself when he knew he could do something. Such as managing his stress during these last months… But with as much thinking as he had been doing, Kenny felt he shouldn't have been surprised at exploding when things finally began to pile up too high. In fact, he should have seen the signs ahead of time, at very latest on the day that it happened. The fact that he hadn't noticed them until afterwards, and that it had been after having spent much time analysing his meltdown in the classroom, was grating, to say the least.

He really should have handled it better than that, and he really shouldn't have exploded; it showed a lack of self-control that he frankly despised noticing about himself.

In retrospect, he could admit that there had been some positive fallout from it, namely his calm. That wasn't to say he wasn't still stressed, worried about further fallout and consequently his standing in class or even in a generally angry mood, but it had allowed him to vent enough to return to his seemingly aloof way of acting amongst people he didn't know that well and wasn't actively trying to get to accept him.

He would have to thank the Sakaki's, spending time with his neighbours was one of the few things that somehow got him to stay in the moment instead of floating around in a haze of thoughts and welling emotion. He wasn't sure why they had that effect on him, but it was a welcome change of pace from the overall negativity that had become the norm…

In a small way, it was the same with Kiryuu; she didn't treat him like he was different. At the same time, she didn't make it a secret that she thought he had been an idiot. She was merely around from time to time for no other reason than that she found trying to rile him up and their barbed exchanges to be entertaining.

Then again, he was the same when he was comfortable with people.

It kind of reminded him of his relationship with two of his nieces; often in agreement on subjects and always at each other's throat with readily given insults, but never in contact beyond the ten or so meetings they had each year.

Kiryuu wasn't a friend, though. And he didn't think that way because of their limited time together; he plain and simply doubted he would ever see her as anything more than an acquaintance and classmate. He'd even wager she'd say the same thing if asked. No, she was a classmate he could get along with, and an acquaintance he wouldn't have a problem keeping contact with from time to time when they finally graduated, but he couldn't see a long-lasting friendship coming from this.

At least not yet… He wasn't one to deny possibilities, but he knew himself far too well to say otherwise.

"Stop imagining girls naked."

The sudden, out of left field accusation snapped him out of his long-winded thoughts.

"I'm not… I imagine them in sexy clothes that tantalise you into fantasising of what's beneath… If you're jealous, I can make room in my fantasy if you want."

"Whoa, I didn't think you would admit it…"

"Whoever said I admitted to anything? I could simply be stating my- oh my, that's an ama~zing ima… ge?" He trailed off in his joke, his eyes locking onto a running trio on the other side of the soccer field, a group of girls was chasing them, all clad in traditional clothing. They were either from the kendo or kyudo club based on the clothes, though the straight sticks they were all carrying with them and some were rising high made that only a tad bit obvious.

"The hell did those three do to make the entire kendo team chase them?"

Kiryuu had to prop herself up to look over the hedge they were resting behind, but quickly recognised the trio, "Ah, it's the hentai san'nin-gumi." She stated like it was nothing, though it sure didn't look like nothing from where he was sitting.

"The what of what now?" He knew exactly what the words meant, but his mind was more focused on the proceedings across from him.

"It's Hyoudo and his pervert friends; I'm guessing they decided to peek at the girls while they were changing… Can't say I'm surprised, several of them have great style, and those three idiots really don't have the self-control not to sneak a peek."

Kenny hummed in response, watching the trio round a corner of the building and disappear beyond view, followed by the wave of stick-wielding swordswomen. "Out of concern towards fellow human beings, they aren't going to beat them up using their shinai if they catch them, right?"

"They would deserve it…" The answer made him frown.

"Maybe, but would it be right?"

Kiryuu shrugged carelessly, "They never learn, and they are never hurt too badly. You'll get used to it."

That doesn't sound good…

"The school doesn't do anything?"

Now it was Kiryuu's turn to frown, though, it was in confusion. It was as if she didn't understand why he was pursuing the path of inquiry.

"About their peeking, or the resulting beating they incur? People are sent to talk to the teachers when they are informed, but they don't do much more than give them a couple of days of suspension to the ones involved at most… and that's only when someone tells the teachers, or it somehow becomes a big deal."

A slap on the fingers for what amounted to assault and sexual harassment? It was more than he or anyone else got when they got into fights in primary school, but this was secondary school… Regardless, they should be reporting to the police after repeated incidents, if not the first.

Guess I'll ask Takagami about what anti-bullying policies the school has later…

He would put it aside for now, though. Instead, he looked at his phone and noted the time.

"Ten minutes till the first bell…"

"Want to head on back?"

Not really… Still, he got to his feet and stretched out his back, a couple of loud pops being his reward for the action, another three being produced as he twisted his neck. He gave a light smile towards his glasses clad classmate, who he noticed flinch at each pop and was glaring up at him. He got into a slow walk back towards the front of the school, wanting to waste as much time as he potentially could, followed by an equally sedate if still lightly glaring Kiryuu.

The commotion that met them at the front gates was… weird, for lack of a better word. It kind of reminded him of those YouTube videos of fans when they finally got the chance to be within ten meters of their most adored celebrity. Several of the students, the majority of which were girls, no surprise there, where shouting out a few names he couldn't make out in the din of good mornings and chattering.

So, this is how people act when star struck…

The thought was almost medical in nature, without either passion or surprise.

The only fascinating thing about the situation was that the group was, for whichever reason, acting in the complete opposite way towards those four girls, seniors based upon the shouts of 'senpai', and keeping a more than respectful distance from them.

I don't get it.

He never did understand the fascination that people had with celebrities, they were just ordinary people if you looked under the hood. In any other situation, they could be flipping burgers at McDonald's, and no one would even give them a second glance. Take away whatever they specialised in and they would be pencil pushers or doing manual labour, maybe even lead better and more healthy lives because of it.

Conversely, had they not been in the right place at the right time then it could have been someone's parent that was famous. The blonde doubted that many children would be reading their working-class parents autobiography.

That being said, the girls were beautiful. There was no doubt about that; he would have to put some effort into looking around to find someone who could trump them. Good looking, but he couldn't see any reason for this… worship.

"Hey, Kiryuu. Who are they?"

She gave him a raised eyebrow, "You haven't heard of or seen them yet?"

He shook his head in response, keeping his eyes on the foursome.

"Have you been hiding under a rock since you came here? The two with the glasses are the heads of the student council, the one with the short hair is Shitori Souna-senpai, the student council president, while the long-haired one is Shinra Tsubaki-senpai, her vice president. Gremory Rias-senpai is the one with red hair, and she heads the occult research club, while the one walking next to her is Himejima Akeno-senpai, the vice president of the same. The four of them are the most popular girls in school, with Gremory-senpai and Himejima-senpai being called the academy's two great ladies. And it seems like they got another fan…"

He wasn't sure what to think of that, but he could at least agree with the general population's assessment; once again, he would have to look around to find someone that matched those four in the looks department.

Wait… another fan…?

The thought made him pause, and the realisation that he was staring at them like they were goddess capable of making his every dream come true made him shake his head with a scowl.

It was like snapping out of a drunken haze, yet still not. The feeling of his head being filled with helium and the sense of unbalance was conspicuously absent. He still felt intoxicated, but had enough cognitive function to make sound decisions.

Within whatever limits constituted sound in this situation. At least he could feel himself 'sobering up', and quickly at that: mind-jolting, ice bath quick.

A dull headache was replacing the hazy feeling, an almost welcome throb just behind his left ear that felt more pleasurable than the weird feeling of being overcome by... he didn't even know. It was like he was there, yet not there; overwhelmed by a strange sense of calm and direction within a grey limbo.

The fact that he hadn't noticed until now was most disconcerting. He couldn't even remember the last time he had used such general terms as cute and beautiful to describe a person's looks.

To others: sure. It was easier to be general than pointing out the small details that one takes notice off.

By himself: didn't happen. It was always specific and counterbalanced by a trait that was less desirable. 'Nice hips, unbecoming glasses', as it were.

Not even having feelings for said person made him derail from that way of acting, even if his mind naturally focused on the pleasant parts more because of said attraction. A thing he tended to counteract by hyper-analysing his feelings and the person in question, resulting in most crushes and 'first stage in love's' ending in weeks due to said person being dragged down from whatever pedestal that the attraction had put them on the level of an ordinary person.

Disconcerting was, therefore, an understatement. This wasn't a simple pedestal of attraction; he had been… worshipping them…?

Yes, worshipping was an accurate enough word for what he had been doing. That had never happened before as far as he could remember. And if it had, it hadn't been this fast or so strongly or to more than a single person at a time.

His eyes travelled back to the group of girls, mind already reeling to deconstruct them. He found himself displeased with the difficulty of the act but pushed through it best he could.

At least I'm not addled anymore.

He wasn't sure where it had come from but wasn't keen on it happening again.

The short-haired girl, Shitori Souna, looked to be the shortest of the group but had a certain presence that made it impossible to ignore her. She was wearing the standard girl uniform of Kuoh, and a pair of oval purple-red glasses adorned her nose, a pair of violet eyes sharply shining through. Her short hair was cut into an accentuating bob-cut with a thick golden hairclip on the left side of her face, seemingly there more for the aesthetics than making her hair, most notably the somewhat messy bangs above her eyes, more manageable.

Her vice president, Shinra Tsubaki, also had the same presence. She was on the taller side of the group, with free-flowing hair long enough to reach the back of her knees and split bangs, allowing one to see her forehead. Her glasses were light-blue squares without the top rim, enabling free sight of her mismatched violet-light brown eyes, left and right respectively.

Kenny paused for a second to consider the two, or rather the special feeling that they exuded, one that he could so clearly recognise but couldn't place. It wasn't what had made him addled, though it was still there, it was different. It was something with their eyes and faces that rubbed him wrong… like they were continually judging those around them.

The feeling like every little thing was scrutinised and judged and falling short of some expected standard hung over the two like a shadow. For the two to have become so popular despite the air of unapproachability that surrounded them… He wasn't sure how to judge that, one of his teachers had had the same air and it took him a year to get used to it enough to realise that the man wasn't as harsh as his presence and general look made him out to be. Either he was wrong, or the two had been around for long enough that the other students didn't have a problem with it.

Regardless, he felt intimidated by it. Not a feeling he particularly enjoyed…

The third girl was somehow confusing to him, on one end Himejima had a gentle beauty about her, one that he felt suited the ideal of the Yamato Nadeshiko that anime and whatnot had ingrained him with, on the other she was somehow the most… alluring, of the group. Her assets were noticeable, producing light curves despite the neutralising coverage that the school uniform and the accompanying cape provided. And how she managed to make the simple act of walking look seductive, he didn't know, nor was he sure he wanted to, but she had succeeded in the wholly unnecessary venture. Nowhere was that more evident than in the looks of longing that were sent her way, and not only from the male populous.

Her hair had to be even longer than Shinra's, but it was hard to judge, what with it being tied up into a ponytail with that orange ribbon, forming a long and mobile whip of hair that followed along with the slightest movement. Calm violet eyes, in addition to her every move being impossibly soft and gentle, lent her the feeling of an aloof, calm and kind 'Oneesama'…

He somehow doubted many guys had asked her out because of that. If there were any combination of words that he would use to describe her at first glance they would be: 'untouchable older sister'. Perfect enough as to be intimidating, as it were. Anyone could be the younger sibling, but it would take a lot to only get past the feeling of inadequacy, never mind actually coming out and saying it.

Gremory was the one that truly stuck out, however. Any hair colour beyond brown and black was rare from what Kenny had seen, this being in stark contrast to the myriad of eye colours that he didn't think could exist, such as the other three's violet and Kiryuu's yellow-green that seemed to be some kind of off-hand norm. His own blonde hair tended to stick out in a crowd, discounting the ten to twenty centimetres of height he had on even the tallest of the locals, but that crimson red hair that reached past her buttocks would have stuck out even in the west.

The other thing that readily stuck out to him wasn't her beauty or glamour that rivalled the Nadeshiko who was walking next to her; it was her attention demanding eyes.

Where the ponytailed sister character she associated with looked romantically unapproachable but seemed to be the kindest of the bunch, and the other two seemed so strict that he wouldn't be surprised if they demanded nothing less than perfection from both themselves and others, she looked like the personification of beautifully carved, blue ice.

Ice with a superior sense of self-worth…

It felt like any look she sent to those around her carried a detached chill, like she was judging the fundamental worth of everyone around her with her every look. Unlike the student council duo, who seemed more likely to decide based on results, the redhead's green-blue eyes had already reached her conclusions of those around her: no one was worthy, there were no equals in this crowd.

Kenny could easily imagine a slave master looking at a stock of sick, malnourished and physically defective slaves carrying that exact look, with the extra hidden displeasure of having to make deals for defects with a lesser and disgustingly slimy person.

So why was some small part of him still seemingly adoring her? Why did he feel like she could give him what he wanted to a point where he could ignore common sense, the same thing that was convinced that it was impossible? Why in the hell was he feeling hazy when looking at them?

No reason, he couldn't think of one.

One thing was certain: he would be staying away from those four the best he could, particularly red… Her passing glance was already grating; the look she would inevitably give him if they ever met in person would likely be one that one generally reserved for insects. No amount of whatever this was could soften that feeling.

Speaking of looks…

I'm not gonna like her at all, am I?

~-o0O0o-~

Homeroom was the same old tedious hogwash of non-information that somehow passed for intelligent instructions.

It was interesting how he had already come to expect a standard for the bi-daily meetings that seemed to serve no other purpose than…

He hadn't really figured out that part of it yet, but he was sure it was going to sound insulting…

Once again, he wasn't sure if it would be insulting towards Takagami, whom he had no problems with, or the class that the teachers judged needed… whatever it was this was giving them... Bleeding ears, most likely...?

Not that he was paying any kind of attention to what was happening at the front of the class, he was having too much fun silently seething in irritation at miss-most-popular's attitude problem.

It wasn't a lie to say he was enjoying his current mood; it made for a good distraction from his own problems. It felt, in some small way, like he had returned to visit normalcy for a while, being able to complain to himself about things that really didn't matter. He likened it to the feeling of a person leaving a used glass on the table for the eightieth time instead of cleaning it or at least put it amongst the dishes, forcing you to do it instead.

He wasn't sure, but it could have had something to do with the look she had given him and the others around her.

A plus in his book: he had her correctly pegged!

A plus in her book: it hadn't been to the degree of an insect…

It had been more akin to 'how in the hell did you get accepted into this academy?'

He wasn't sure whether that was better, or not. Beyond the obvious, of course…

How the hell did someone like her become one of the school idols, anyway?

It couldn't be because of her charming personality… or the kindness that radiated and oozed off her in droves… or her obvious humility… or her charisma…

The last one he could at least if unwillingly, admit to her having, at least in the physical department. Too bad it was buried underneath the rest of the personality traits that modern society would consider to be wrong, it was so deep he had needed to shut down his negative thinking process for several minutes to reach that conclusion…

… that had taken some fun out of it, seeing as he had been on a roll…

And, truthfully, he was still debating the existence of her charisma… Mostly because he didn't want her to have it.

And then it was the feeling he got when he had looked at those four... The less said about his progress on that front, the better. He had no explanation for it, and any he could think of was easy to explain away.

Illness: not wholly unreasonable, but it shouldn't allow him to snap out of it, and if it did it wouldn't be to 80%. That was assuming there was an illness that only reacted to being near and seeing specific people.

Drugs: once again, shouldn't allow him to snap out of it, it would feasibly continue in full effect even after he noticed.

Then again, he had never tried drugs...

Injury: he doubted that his collision with that other guy was enough to do this– he had landed on his ass, after all, and his head never touched the ground – and if it did, he was liable to be dead by tomorrow, which would only be a minor loss. No other bumps or bruises or cuts to speak of.

Love was the most ridiculous of the ideas, mostly because it had gone from a hundred to twenty within seconds. That was a rapid drop, caused by nothing else but his realisation that he wasn't thinking straight, and completely unnatural, as far as he knew. Add in the unlikelihood of him falling in love at first sight, something that he put no stock in even when it was only one person, with four girls at the same time. Add then in the council duos intimidating presence and reds... everything, and then it was pretty much impossible for it to happen.

That was unless he was a sucker for pain- No thank you...- or he was soattracted to that Himejima girl that her charm made him cuckoo enough to project said attraction unto the others, which seemed unlikely no matter how he put it…

Wouldn't mind bedding her in any case...

He'd be damned if she didn't ooze undiluted sexiness. While he generally preferred the small to medium sized breasts, juggling those jugs wasn't something he would say no to.

Then again… That Shinra girl lying spread eagle, with her clothes messed up and her hair dishevelled, panting and red in the face, a small smile playing on her lips… Add then the boyish, yet feminine council president to image, nibbling on her friend's nipple…

He shook his head, attempting to think of something else to get rid of the now uncomfortable feeling of a poorly positioned, not even semi-hard penis stuck in a pair of equally severely placed boxers and pants. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, it wasn't the first time his head had travelled in that direction in the past fifteen minutes, and every time it did he was forced to shift around in a seat that didn't provide the space necessary to relieve the cramped feeling that naturally came with the risqué thoughts.

The opening door, signalling the end of homeroom, was the perfect distraction from his everyday proble-

Or not... Where the badly aged teacher that was standing in the doorway did too good of a job of killing the already non-existent chances of Takagami ending homeroom early, the man was even more effective in murdering the barely blossoming 'boner'.

Physiological normalcy aside, Kenny was frankly not sure what it was that made him internally groan; having his shallow hope of getting out early crushed like it amounted to nothing or the by now not utterly unfamiliar look the teacher sent his way before entering.

Or perhaps it was the all too familiar way that his gut twisted in on itself in foreboding anxiety, telling him that whatever was soon to dawn in his future was not anything to look forward to.

He wasn't unfamiliar with having a bad teacher that he couldn't stand, but the undue hostility from a couple of members of the faculty that couldn't be bothered with acting professional was appallingly new. It was as if the concept of subtlety was a foreign one to most of the teachers here. Quite the opposite, really. The worst seemed to be going out of their way to make their displeasure know, billboards with flashing lights style.

Then again, perhaps that was only this guy… Regardless, nobody would be calling him the teachers favourite pet anytime soon.

The class silently observed the history teacher, whose name the blonde had yet to bother to remember as a hollow attempt at childish rebellion, walk up to Takagami and exchange a few words too low to hear from the back row. The looks they were intermittently sending his way spoke loads of who it was concerning, though...

Fuck me…

It was as if the world wasn't going to give him any respite… Still, his battered hope clung to the chance of it not being him it was about. Hyoudo sat in front of him, after all. Perhaps they were going to discuss his 'continuous and reoccurring' incidents of sexual harassment?

Whatever the case was, it was plain to see that Takagami was displeased by the nature of the interruption, if not the disruption itself. His face had scrunched up like he had swallowed a particularly sour lemon, a look that spoke of apparent frustration at his fellow's choice of place in discussing whatever issue that had cropped up. Still, he seemed to stay diplomatic about the situation while attempting to move the immobile older man - who had produced a comb from his coffee stained, dark grey suit and busied himself with making his whitened hair cover his bald spot while speaking - towards the door with limited success.

While this was happening, none too discreet whispers were cropping up around the room as a response to the flagrancy of the teacher's intent. Not that the pupils were any more subtle in their topic.

Can't stop teens from being children... the blonde thought dryly, noting with irritation the glances sent his way, the most obvious being Hyoudo who had to turn in his seat to get a good look over his shoulder.

Way to make a guy self-conscious, teach...

He could feel the blood rise to colour his cheeks and ears from the unwanted attention, outwardly revealing what the situation did to him, increasing his ire towards the balding man as an immediate result.

He took some solace in the dark image of the old bastard inexplicably crashing through one of the closed windows and slamming head first into the ground, bleeding from multiple cuts and stabs from the broken glass while his head resembled a smashed watermelon…

Taking a cleansing breath, he looked out the window, making a shallow attempt at waiting out the proceedings in the classroom while ignoring the looks. The increasing volume the two were using to 'civilly' discuss with each other wasn't much of an indication as to how long of a wait he could expect.

Not that long, as it turned out. The explosive sigh that came from the now thoroughly frustrated Takagami was loud enough and distinct enough to call the lone swedes attention back to the front of the class.

"Nilsson-kun… will you please follow Higuchi-sensei to the guidance office. I'll meet you there…" Takagami didn't look at him, merely choosing to keep facing his fellow teacher with a repressed, but noticeably dark look on his face.

Right…

It had been stupid to hope that it didn't involve him only because he hadn't heard his name being mentioned, disregarding the slim chance of that happening at the back of a noisy classroom. The hope had still been there, all the same.

Now who's acting like a child…

Pushing down the feelings of disappointment, and attempting to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of having everyone's penetrating gaze on him like a sniper rifles scope, he pushed himself out of his seat and walked what felt like the path of shame with a carefully blank face. A part of him wanted to believe that Higuchi didn't intend for this to become like that, that was also the part that was efficiently being bullied into submission by the part that didn't ignore the fact that the man had insisted on staying in the goddamned classroom.

Unamusing and unprofessional.

Worse, he couldn't think of a single reason for being called to the guidance office. Though, judging by the seemingly confirming glances and 'knew it's' that came out louder than intended, he belonged to the minority of people who didn't know what this was about.

Being left out of the loop wasn't something he particularly enjoyed when it didn't involve him being sent to get, what he assumed to be, a chewing out.

Understatement of the day, that one…

Higuchi moved over to the door, comb once again in hand to cover up his bald spot while making a valiant attempt to seem taller by stretching out his back as far as the chronic pain allowed him.

The result was neither intimidating nor inspiring of respect, coming out more like a prideful child with acrophobia pretending to stand on a ladder to seem taller. That he only managed to reach the foreigner's shoulders while doing so seemed to somewhat sour the man's mood, or perhaps it was the fact that he didn't pay him any more attention than ordinary.

Regardless, Higuchi allowed the blonde to pass before following him out of the classroom with watchful eyes.

So, running isn't an option... The blonde thought sarcastically, growing irritated when the teacher started walking down the empty corridor without offering a single word, sending constant glance over his shoulder as if to ensure that the student didn't run. He followed with a mental groan, debating whether feeling insulted at what he felt was the 'condemned criminal treatment' was utterly unwarranted.

It was almost frustrating that his enforced benefit of the doubt ensured that the jury was still out on that question…

It wasn't a long walk in any way of the word, the counselling room being only a couple of doors away from the 2-D classroom with a small sign over the door written in indecipherable kanji marking it as such. Not that he had gone out exploring beyond the guided tour that Takagami had given him three days earlier, but he recognised the room as soon as the door opened.

Its location must have slipped his mind with everything that's been going on lately…

The setup was only partially what he had expected to see the first time, whereas the large table in the centre of the room with simple wooden chairs was as he would ha pictured, the two three-seater sofas and low table further in and the small kitchenette was not part of his initial image. Beyond that, there was little of note; a couple of posters on the walls, some well-made paintings that had him assuming they were donated and framed photographs of people.

Higuchi gestured towards the sofas in the back of the room, himself moving towards the kitchenette; "Take a seat. Do you want anything? Tea? Coffee? I believe there are a few rice crackers around here..."

Giving the man a strange look at the sudden change in attitude, Kenny moved over towards the couch and sat down. It was soft, and while there were signs of age on it, not at all uncomfortable.

"Uh... Just tea, please...? I take sugar." He informed while keeping an eye on the weirdly acting teacher, hoping against all hope that the man did not bring out the rice crackers, experience told him that they had a strong smell that he didn't particularly care for.

Watching the balding man go through a flurry of movements that he didn't think him capable of even on the best of days to fill and turn on an electric kettle he had gotten from one of the cupboards, taking out cups and saucers and spoons and sugar, placing them on a tray with a box of tissue paper, he realized it was a hopeless wish: from one of the cupboards came the accursed crackers and joined the other things on the tray that he carried over to the low table.

Kenny took notice of how the man looked at him from the corner of his eye as he placed the saucers and cups, "Don't worry, you're not in any trouble, Kenny-kun. We just want to check up on how you're doing, what with the recent transfer and move to a new country."

Sounded logical enough, even if he didn't consider it to be the school's business, though it begged the question as to why Higuchi was the one to check up on him instead of his homeroom teacher, even more, the altercation in the classroom with said teacher. Then there was the unknown rumour that seemed to be making rounds…

Suppressing a mental groan, he resigned himself to play along even if he didn't want to talk with the man beyond what was necessary to pass class…

Path of least resistance and all that…

"I'm doing fine. The jetlag is still a bit of a problem, but I feel like I get enough sleep. I've managed to pack up most, if not all of my stuff, so that's done."

So many words, so little information… in other words; more than enough for family members to not delve any deeper into his life. Unless they actually knew something was wrong…

"That's good to hear…" Higuchi supplied succinctly as he sat down on the opposite couch, seemingly wishing to get past the small talk, "But I hear that you're living on your own. It can't be easy for a young man, such as yourself, not to have anybody looking after them."

The blonde frowned lightly at the obvious statement, something in the tone also seemed to say that it wasn't something he was meant to agree or disagree with. Or at least openly disagree with…

"It's not that bad, I'm somewhat used to it, and I enjoy having a place that's my own."

It was a subtle challenge, but not a lie in any measure of the word. Kenny was more than capable of living on his own, and much enjoyed the freedom and privacy that came with the option. The bonus of not having to deal with conflicting viewpoints and the preferences of others were nice additions.

The man gave a smile, "I reckon you would, it gives one a lot of freedom… You're lucky, not all parents trust their sixteen-year-olds to that much, and many of them tend to abuse that freedom by straying and neglecting themselves and their duties."

Couldn't possibly imagine why... He shrugged in neutral non-commitment, noting with slight annoyance how his challenge had been pushed aside like it hadn't been given.

"Judging by what you said, you have lived alone before this?"

"Yes, a couple of my previous school wasn't within a feasible travelling distance. I judged it to be more effective, necessary even, to move."

"But I'm sure you had someone looking after you…"

"They were boarding schools, so the one in charge of the living areas would check in once or twice every month at the most, but it was a simply a formality unless we had something that needed to be checked up or handled by the keepers. My roommates and I were trusted to survive on our own while not destroying the house. The places were still standing last I heard about it. You won't have to worry about me; I know how to look after myself."

"I'm sure…"

The neutral way that the simple statement had been said was just as insulting as the statement itself to him. Withholding an expression of judgement, disapproval or disappointment, he watched how Higuchi pushed himself out of his seat and went back to the electric kettle. He had barely even noticed how the pronounced hum that it produced had quieted and been exchange with the sound of boiling water.

A couple of more questions followed from the teacher as he poured the water into two of the three cups, all inane and wholly uninteresting to the man. 'How was your relationship with your previous teachers?', 'Where did you grow up?', 'Did you have many friends?', 'Siblings?'.

"Good enough…"

"In the 'suburbs' outside a small 'town'…"

"No kids lived in the area, and I didn't have many friends in school…"

"I have two older brothers…"

With each question and subsequent short answer, Kenny's wish to just tell the man to shove it was growing. While he had no problem giving the answers, the questions feelt like they weren't given in a get-to-know-you-way. Actually, this felt closer to a police interview than anything else.

"Higuchi-sensei, I appreciate that you're taking the time to check up on me, but you really don't have to worry about me…" That was the most civil way the Swede could think of to tell the old man to stop poking his nose where it didn't belong. He couldn't even be bothered to give it some fake sincerity, instead attempting suppressing his annoyance to sheer neutrality.

This didn't sit too well with the history teacher, who put aside his half-eaten cracker and leaned forward, "Kenny-kun, as a teacher I'm obligated to worry about and advise all my students – this includes you."

Said student looked down on the table where a rather noticeable piece of cracker had landed after being launched from the tutor's mouth with hidden disgust, listening half-heartedly to the lecture. He could guess what would be said anyway…

"I underst-"

"I don't think you do. I don't know how you treat your teachers in Canada or Sweden, but here we respectfully listen to our elders. We carry experience and wisdom that you have yet to gain, and it's our job and duty to make you into a productive member of society."

Why was he so particular about this? There had to be a limit to being passionate…

It was with some irritation that Kenny realised that his position could and likely was, being perceived as submissiveness in front of an alleged superiority. This only lent to the feeling of insult of being talked down to like a child, that it was done by a person that hadn't done anything to earn his respect didn't help either.

Breath in… then out… don't lift your head. Don't argue. Don't. Argue!

The thick iron door felt heavy, either with a coat of rust on its hinges or in need of greasing while the contents of its interior were spilling out and falling off the piles onto the floor outside the vault of composure, it was hard to truly shut closed.

And then it burst open with a loud rattling, shocking him out of his introspection. No, it wasn't his self-control snapping, even if he for a moment actually thought that to be the case, but the door to the room that had audibly opened, snapping him out of his semi-meditative state and interrupting whatever lecture Higuchi had continued while unknowingly being zoned out.

Takagami stood still in the doorway, giving Higuchi a stormy look, "I thought you were going to let me handle my students, Higuchi-sensei. Do explain which part of 'letting Takagami-sensei take care of it' involves you entering and disrupting my homeroom because I can frankly not understand it…"

The former of the student-teacher pair was staring at the man with shocked eyes.

Damn, he's pissed…

"Now, now, Takagami-sensei, this is the first time you've had to deal with something like this, and this matter does frankly not involve just a single class, but the school in its entirety. I think we all wish to see this done correctly and with tact, not to say you cannot do either, but this is the first class you've been in charge of. Besides that, this is an unpleasant business for anyone; I find it only right to be here to help guide my younger colleagues if it becomes necessary."

Kenny himself was looking between the two with some minor interest; judging by tone and emotion Higuchi sounded utterly genuine in his words, the words themselves were leaving much to be desired, leaving the half-brit visibly simmering in anger.

"It may well be my first term in charge of a class, but I've been a teacher for three years... I've taken an active part in the club I'm managing, and I've dished out repercussions to those that have been a disturbance. And you're telling me that there was no better way to show your support other than to interrupt my homeroom and undermine my integrity, respect and trust with my students?"

Higuchi's face reddened as he stood up, displeasure almost visibly radiating off him in waves.

I'm not supposed to hear this, am I?

As relieving, if not amusing, as it was to be watching the two start arguing about proper etiquette - or whatever one would call it in this instance, Kenny was personally going for common sense - instead of being interrogated, the fact that he was supposedly being 'handled' in any fashion for reasons he had yet even to be told about was still an ever-present grating on his mind.

Giving a breath and ignoring the two for the moment, he picked up his cup of tea from the tray, dropped four cubes of sugar into it and stirred the liquid, soft clinking that didn't sound altogether too loud with the verbal backdrop escaping with every half turn of the circular motion. Seeing as the men either didn't notice or didn't care about his presence, even when he was making some rather obvious noise, he decided to take the small pause to try the tea.

Hot hot hot hot...!

Whatever taste was ignored in favour of not spitting out the small sip of hot liquid across the table. It seems like ten minutes of questioning wasn't enough to cool the tea off enough to drink. He was partially unsurprised when him leaning forward and breathe in almost a whistle to cool off his singed tongue didn't prompt the two to stop arguing.

It also served to fray the last of his patience.

"Can we please get to the reason why I've been called here by Higuchi-sensei?"

His sudden outburst had the desired effect, and the two teachers looked at him like they'd just noticed they weren't alone in the room. Frankly, with how heated they were getting, he wouldn't have been surprised if they had completely forgotten about him.

He could have likely snuck out without them noticing... Or simply walked.

A sheepish looking Takagami coughed to clear his throat while under the stiff-faced sideways look of Higuchi, one returned with silent frustration.

"Let's..." Higuchi stated simply before taking a seat, "Kenny-kun. As I said before, you're not in any trouble, but you'll have to be honest and straight with us so that we may help you."

The blonde looked unimpressed at the teacher, all while annoyance and confusion swirled inside him at the rather obvious allusion to… something! Was he doing drugs, or was he an alcoholic without knowing it? Perhaps he was high on methane; this has distinctly started to smell like cow shit to him.

"Thank you for the vagueness, sensei; I do sincerely have no idea what it is you're trying to say…"

"Kenny-kun…" The aged history teacher warned gravelly before sighing, "You know what I'm referring to, and the first step for us to help you is that you at least admit-"

"Why should I admit to doing something I don't know if I've done or not?"

"Kenny-kun! This is exactly what is going to-"

"What. Have. I. Done?" he ground out, fully allowing his face to mirror his feelings of frustration and anger.

"Higuchi-sensei, I'll take over." Takagami cut in before it could escalate further. "Nilsson-kun, you haven't happened to visit one of the noticeboards today, have you?"

"No... Why?" He could feel the nagging suspicion take root in the pit of his stomach, though he wasn't entirely sure why.

The limbo of not knowing came to a quick end with Takagami placing a paper on the table. A photograph of Kenny straddling a familiar unconscious man, a startling amount of blood visible on his hands, the cuff of his jacket and on his chest, with his face frozen in a snarl towards someone not in the photograph.

They say a picture says more than a thousand words... Well, this photo managed to take the extra step and put those words together into a story where he was the violent party beating someone bloody.

Perhaps he should have felt horror or nervousness over the incriminating picture; maybe he should have been racing to explain himself and clear his name...

Someone posted this on the boards...?

But that rather simple observation stopped him in his tracks, making him go entirely still. The stillness was a lie: inside he was roaring, his mind racing in vain to somehow cross identify the hazy memory of the faces of observers to the hazy faces of his new school 'mates'.

Whoever it was that decided to publish this picture sure was lucky that the task was close to impossible...

Or perhaps I'm the lucky one...

He thought enraged: while no stranger to fisticuffs, even in a rage he recognised that he had never won a fight while his head was clouded with anger... Or even managed to hurt the source of his ire...

This was a first, though, one he never thought would happen, one he stupidly believed people had the better sense not to do. In the seconds of retrospect, he could ascertain that much: it was more than a little naive to think, for even a second, that this couldn't happen. In fact, he was downright moronic not to have taken it into consideration. Something must have gone wrong in the womb, and he didn't get the nourishment necessary for his brain to develop correctly... or air. Logic dictated that his parents, in their frustration, must have grabbed hold of his infant feet and swung him repeatedly headfirst into a steel table.

To the two teachers, it looked like their blonde student had suddenly frozen upon seeing the picture. The two almost jumped when an explosive breath escaped him out of nowhere before calmly picking up the photo to take a closer look. It was somewhat worrying that he didn't react in any other way than study the photograph with scrutiny, even more so that he no longer seemed to be frustrated or angry or... anything really. What could be seen of his face was perfectly schooled, a sharp contrast to how he looked when telling the two to get on with it.

His eyes, however, were darkened. Twin chips of icy, midnight oceans were glaring at the only place that he could unload his rampant emotions. He could always hope that the paper would suddenly ignite into flames.

Enforcing a tentative calm within himself, Kenny analysed the situation. He had obviously not endeared himself to some of his fellows in the academy with his 'sudden' loss of temper. Understandable, he too would stay away from someone that gave that kind of first impression, as would pretty much anyone.

But he had apologised and, in some small way, explained his current lack of good mood... Granted, as far as feats go that one barely amounted to anything. At least, that was how it seemed. Apologies coupled with a reasonable explanation while still condemning the action was often seen as both real and humble, an admittance of humanity.

That said, some would accept it while still feeling hurt, others wouldn't it work on at all.

Useless. Fucking. Tangent.

He refocused.

Perhaps he was merely seen as weak and potentially easy pickings for some bully? Or maybe it was because he seemed unshakeable in front of others judgement that it could be worth breaking him down for the sake of increasing someone's pitiful self-esteem...

Wouldn't matter regardless; apology or not, he was currently isolated from his peers, and he had to admit that it was no thanks to his awkwardness in entering already established groups, either. The odd ones out, the outcasts and the isolated were always all too easy to pick on, and as far as Kenny considered it, he could easily be called any of those things. And a few days of being mostly alone in a foreign school was apparently enough to cement him as such, add then in a 'violent' outburst and this kind of photograph could easily be a confirmation of psychopathy...

That would explain why some seemed to try to avoid me...

Giving the teaching duo a quick glance from beneath blonde eyebrows, he also concluded that even a person that was supposed to be objective and unbiased would find this worrying.

He gave a humourless snort; this picture was merely a coincidence that happened at the worst possible time; a time where suspicions of his 'violent tendencies' were ripe.

"So," He stated with dripping neutrality, "this the part where I'm supposed to say that this isn't what it looks like and give an explanation that you're not going to believe due to the overwhelming evidence that will clearly contradict everything that I'm saying..."

A near arrogant expression, one would use when correcting someone on a simple and easy to understand matter, one expecting to be sheepishly agreed with, marred his features.

Spite that fucking face…

~-o0O0o-~

Condescending, but a damn well accurate way of summarising it, Takagami Ryouta reckoned.

The man didn't even need to look to the side to know that his senior teacher was boiling at the clear disrespect that the student had exhibited with that single sentence, an amusing thing in and of itself, but far off from the ideal way of handling the situation. Digging the hole deeper wouldn't help him get out of trouble.

That being said, he had noticed something odd with this kid, made very clear with the current situation. Having had to deal with teenagers for a couple of years now, and having had some bad informative years himself, he knew how most ordinary people acted when caught in a spot or attempted a lie. This kid was doing the textbook example of what most bad liars did, that being overcompensating with the eye contact in favour of the standard flickering gaze...

... like he was always doing. Kenny Nilsson didn't seem to know, or plain and simply didn't care that most people naturally became uncomfortable with prolonged eye contact unless it was with a person close to them. Instead, he would stare away into your eyes unabashedly until you had finished your business, he had a organic reason to look away, or you averted your gaze away yourself.

Worse, his eyes were undaunting and downright steely as he stared the two down; clearly, he wouldn't be getting many answers by analysing it.

As for being put on the spot, Ryouta couldn't say one way or the other anymore: at first, he'd seemed defensive with falling into introspection, and while the way he the way he had spoken could easily be contrived as going on the attack, Kenny had manoeuvred himself into a position of neutrality. Well, as close to one as he could possibly get in this kind of situation, which in this case meant sounding utterly uncaring while clearly demonstrating that he knew the severity of the situation. Then he had the gall to offer to provide an explanation for it rather than claim innocence and demand to be allowed to do so.

While none of this really made Ryouta question the necessity for intervention, it did perplex him how stone-faced and apathetic his student was in the face of it. He wouldn't have necessarily have called him calm, as he was obviously unamused and downright frustrated at the quiet allegation that the picture had brought to bear, but he was giving off the air of just wanting it over with, regardless of the outcome.

It was the fact that his student almost seemed willing to throw away his explanation if they didn't want to hear it that had him the most concerned, it was as if he expected them to not want to listen to it. That that would be his first assumption was more than a little disconcerting, not to mention that it was miffing to Ryouta, whom would gladly listen to an explanation, if a reasonable one did indeed exist.

Alas, Higuchi intervened before he could ask for clarification; "At least you understand your position."

Well, he sounds chipper…

He almost audibly huffed at the sarcastic thought, though not in any kind of amusement. Higuchi being the typical traditional teacher that he was, didn't take a show of perceived disrespect well. At all.

"Well, with this I assume that we can finally get to the important part. Kenny-kun, why don't you tell us how this-" The aged man leaned forward and tapped his finger on the photograph, "- came about."

A blonde eyebrow was raised sceptically in Higuchi's direction, but he acquiesced, "I was out grocery shopping last night, and as I turned a corner on my way back, this guy ran into me. We both fell over, but the collision had him doing so in a way that had him hit the corner of the wall. A few others and I had to… massage his heart…? He had lost consciousness, wasn't breathing or have a heartbeat. That there, is likely me telling someone off for recording the situation rather than help out while I was trying to move the guy into a position to better help him."

Well, that does explain why he was mocking his own explanation…

It wasn't only questionable; it was as clear an attempt to deflect blame as it got. It did also contradict what they thought they knew, though that wasn't at all surprising, it was in a way that was questionable at best.

Therein laid the problem in Takagami Ryouta's mind: Nilsson was obviously aware of exactly how bad it was, yet he had provided it regardless of that fact... There was no way that he cared that little about this…

"Kenny-kun…"

Ryouta watched with near detachment as the teacher-student duo began what could only be described as a very civil argument – that was a wording he didn't believe he would be using after the students show of disrespect –, degrading over time to become more heated as both parties' lost patience with the other.

Well, at least it wasn't him for a change, refreshing indeed.

That being said, it frustrated him how he would have to wait until Higuchi considered himself finished or gave up before he could get down to dealing with this on his own.

It did give him the chance to consider the situation, though…

"What will it take for you to understand that we are trying to help you! We can't do that unless you tell us what really happened. This is grounds for expulsion. Listen, we understand that you have been under stress-"

"Which doesn't excuse anything regardless of whether I gave the guy a beating of a lifetime or not…" The student all but growled out, eyes glaring in cold anger.

"But," Higuchi ground out between clenched teeth, "your continued denial of having any part in this is only making it worse for you. You don't have to be scared; we're on your side…"

"I suppose it's my fight or flight instinct taking over since I'm of half of mind to simply up and leave right this bloody moment. Your assurances are truly inspiring me to stay, considering that. I. Didn't. Do. Anything!"

Ryouta jumped as Higuchi brought his fist down on the table with a loud thump, the motion coming out of nowhere, although he really should have seen it coming.

"That's enough! You continue to openly and subtly insult me, and you spit on my intentions. Were you never taught respect for your elders? You'll never be able to get anywhere in society with this kind of attitude, do you not understand that? Quit acting like a child and tell us what really happened!"

Silence permeated the room after the outburst, uncomfortable and heavy.

"Speak!" Higuchi growled out lowly.

Kenny for his part hadn't moved in response to either the action or the rant; he didn't even look to be preparing to return the comment. Quite the opposite- "Kenny-kun!" -his gaze was locked solidly into the eyes of the teacher, unflappable in the face of his ire. He even succeeded in looking calmer than before, his glare having been reduced into a subtle expression that somehow shouted disapproval and judgement.

Ryouta could note three things about the look: first of all, it was downright unnerving. That it came from a teen only seventeen years of age didn't detract from the effect. He wasn't even on the receiving end, and he still felt like he was being scolded. He may have been able to maintain eye contact on the basis of having been here during the argument and being an adult, but he doubted that many of the boy's schoolmates would be immune to it.

Secondly was the effect it was having on Higuchi. While the man had never been the most patient with those that acted with disrespect, he would usually keep himself together better than he currently was. But here was a young man capable of raising the teacher's ire by simply giving him a look. And as the teacher, who by now was clenching his fists in anger and glaring down at the student, grew more heated, the student seemed only to grow calmer as the long and awkward minute passed by.

"Don't you look at me like that, the one that needs to learn respect here is you, boy. If this is how you treat someone who's trying to help you, then…" The teacher left the sentence unfinished.

And lastly, it was very evident that Higuchi had just fallen from standing in the eyes of the student, permanently so. Any respect that had been there had now been lost, a fact that wasn't lost on the man in question.

"Well? Say. Something!" He demanded harshly, and the student finally decided to satisfy the irate man's desire.

"If I wanted to learn how to write, practice and do speeches in front of people, Higuchi, then I would go no further than Adolf Hitler, who managed to seduce a nation by using theatrics. I also know for a fact that he was a better painter than me, and he has undoubtedly given out more books than the vast majority of the people in this world. He was also an animal rights activist, sending people that broke animal protection laws to concentration camps, PETA would have liked him so long as they didn't have a political standpoint that went against Naziism.

And Stalin managed to claim power over the Sovjet by planning and gathering support years ahead, this in spite of Lenin expressively stating that he shouldn't have power and the fact that Trotsky was effectively the second in command in the communist party. The former of which manage to incite and take control of a revolution while the latter managed to lead an untrained army against the tsardom and somehow win in spite of being outmatched and outnumbered."

Neither teacher was sure of what to do with this impromptu speech, or lecture, rather, seemingly coming out of nowhere and serving no purpose than to showcase historical knowledge. Still, Higuchi continued to silently glare at what to him was now not only a disrespectful student but also an arrogant one.

"Now, Higuchi-" Kenny leaned back in his seat, and levelled a downright malicious look on the aged man, "what is it that you have done lately that makes you assume that you are deserving of anyone's respect, never mind my respect?"

The homeroom teachers' eyes widened in surprise at what was a clear comparison between what could be considered the human incarnations of the devil and the history teacher. If there were any question as to whether Higuchi was angry before, then there was no doubt now as the bald man's head turned red and blood vessels started to bulge on his forehead visibly.

"Now wait a minute…" Ryouta cut in before this could escalate further.

Up til now, he had decided to let the older man handle the situation, mostly because he knew that Higuchi wouldn't let him get a word in edgewise, and then take care of it as soon as the man was out of the picture. But the way things were going made him feel that it was neccesary to get involved sooner rather than later. He might not have seen eye to eye with Higuchi on most things, but that didn't mean he should stand aside and let a student badmouth the teacher.

At the very least, he needed to be the mediator.

He was about to continue when Kenny turned a sharp look his way, none to sublty telling him to keep quiet.

"I expect him to answer, Takagami-sensei…"

Once sure of his silence, he leaned back on the couch and returned his gaze to the seething teacher, giving him an expectant look.

The man didn't answer, and perhaps he couldn't provide one. Instead, he sneered and stomped his way out of the room, slamming the door behind him, undoubtedly heading for the principal's office.

"Well, this was a fucking waste of time…"

Ryouta watched in silent shock as the student grabbed the printed photograph and studied it, trying to find something to say in the wake of what he had just seen. Kenny didn't at all look like he had just been in an argument with a teacher, or gotten taunted as childish before acting in said manner by comparing his teacher's achievements with Hitlers and downright dropping the suffix as an open insult. Hell, disregarding the words he had spoken, he had looked like the mature one in the end.

"They really got me good with this one…" Kenny mumbled out loud, more to himself than to the remaining teacher.

"That was unnecessary, don't you think…?"

The student nodded, not taking his eyes off the photograph, "Indeed; downright childish, I'd say." He gave him a hollow smile, "It felt good, even if I generally don't resort to name calling. In fact, I honestly expected him to answer, even more so now that I've calmed down and had the chance to think through what I said..."

"Why's that?" Ryouta asked in curiosity.

"Because the answer is obvious," Kenny said simply, "though not as much so as I thought, it seems. Higuchi is a teacher, and I assume he's been one for a great many years… Now, how many students have been raised under his tutelage? A thousand? Two thousand? So many students must pass these halls that he'd have to have reached that number, if not more, by now."

He leaned forward, "All people are deserving of a modicum of respect, that much is true, but they are never entitled to more than that until they have proven themselves in the eyes of others. Those that save lives and those that aid or create lives stand on a higher ground than those of others, not by being better or being worth more, but on the basis that they have dedicated themselves to helping others.

Let me be cruel for a minute in this thought experiment: assume that there is a paedophile teacher that sexually harasses one person in every class they're in charge of. Assuming that they work for fifty years, and are never caught, and teach one course each year and each has twenty students.

20X50=1000. Minus fifty, 950.

Now, as horrendous as a teacher molesting or sexually assaulting their students are, it doesn't change the fact that the teacher in the example has given life-changing knowledge to 950 people, most of which now live healthy lives with likely families of their own. Some of the 950 may have fallen by the wayside, but it wouldn't have been any more a fault of his than any other teacher.

Now, misunderstand me correctly when I say that the last fifty could have committed suicide or have scars for life, but that the scales are still leaning in the guy's favour in the positive/negative things this guy have done. Now, you can assume that there were two or three in each class that he harassed, or you could imagine he only did it to one person every third year. But the point still stands that he's an asshole that has done some good; a part of him is still respectable, after all. Put in another way: condemn his crimes and condone the good he's done for others."

He paused and considered what he had just said, "The point I'm trying to make is this, he could have simply said that he was a teacher and he would have won out. Hell, it could even have been construed as praise since he would have done it without causing suffering to others. Well, as far as I know…"

"You were taunting him back…?"

That had to be the most stupid and roundabout way of doing it that he had heard of. It had been effective, though, most likely because Higuchi was so used to being treated with the respect that his position demanded from the students.

Kenny shrugged, "I didn't lie, I'd love for Hitler to teach me how to catch the attention of the crowd and sweep them along, and I have to respect how Stalin had to manoeuvre to gain power, but both of them coming into a position of authority cost the lives of millions. To answer your question, though… In retrospect, it was also a form of test, I suppose. I wanted to see how he'd react, though it's not like I can see a way for him to have gotten out of that without losing at least some of my respect. Walking out may have well been the best answer, but I won't be looking to him as a figure of authority anytime soon."

"Do you have a problem with teachers?" It was a nagging feeling, just something that had been coming up during these last thirty minutes, but Ryouta sensed he was right on that assumption.

Kenny gave another shrug, "The short answer would be no, I have a problem with authority that I haven't chosen. The long answer would have to be yes. I was bullied throughout primary school, and most teachers did little more than take us into a room, have us tell the course of events and then shake hands in reconciliation. You know, inspiring stuff that only works in daycare, not with teenagers."

It was without any real weight or care; the boy had apparently left it behind him long ago. But it was as much confirmation as the teacher needed.

The half-blood glanced to the photograph, still clutched in between the fingers of his student. He gave him a severe look.

"Did you do it…?"

Kenny didn't need any clarification, instead only sighing tiredly.

"No, I didn't. I was out buying groceries with the neighbour's girl when he ran into me and bashed his head open on the corner wall."

"You say a girl was with you?" he latched onto the new information.

"I didn't think it was necessary to mention it, this wasn't supposed to be a police interrogation that was going to have a followup investigation. At least I assumed as much, retard that I am."

"This could, as Higuchi-sensei so aptly put it, 'save you' from punishment."

"Yeah, about that: what would the punishment have been? Calling the police?"

Takagami shook his head gravely, "No, had it been in Europe that would have likely been the case. Here, however, prestige and reputation are far more important. The schools, this academy included, will not suffer a bad reputation. Several years ago a student committed suicide after having been bullied, but the school that the student had gone to had done everything it could to keep the blame from coming its way, even blaming the student for being different. Fights are seen as nothing to worry about. The previous school I worked at had teachers bullying and ignoring students that didn't conform to the group, and there is very little news of schoolyard violence, bullying or suicides caused by it in papers and on tv. This isn't because they are lower here than elsewhere, but because all schools try to keep those things on the down low, trying to make it seem like there are no problems… In your case, however, it happened out of school, there could be potential consequences precisely because of that fact. The biggest difference from here and elsewhere, though, is that where my friends and I were the rotten apples, here the entire bushel is spoiled. You either conform to the group, leave, or receive the harassment."

Kenny's face twisted in disgust before looking at him. Slowly, it untangled and became curious.

"So, why do you teach here?"

Ryouta hesitated for a second, uncalled memories flashing before his minds eye, before answering.

"… To hopefully keep others from making the same mistakes I did…"

~-o0O0o-~

Rome was drenched in darkness; the first vestiges of daylight having yet made themselves known on the east horizon. The Vatican City was not known for its nightlife, but there were still a few straggling tourists and pilgrims. Most common was the sight of the clergymen that walked the lit streets that led to the small piazza, most likely on their way to their daily duties.

Every so often he could see people with priestly garb with a few accents that distinguished them from others, or with cloaks of white covering their forms from view. An unusual state of dress, but not one he batted an eye at from his self-imposed posting at the window.

The room was quiet, broken only by the occasional flicking of papers and the weighted ends of the drapes hitting the stone wall whenever a strong enough breeze came through the opened window.

The room itself was a combination of old and new, solid squares of rock made up the floor, roof and walls, from which hung paintings of different men and women, most clad in the distinct vestments of nuns, monks, priests and bishops. A flat-screen TV was hung immediately to the left upon entering the rooms lone door.

A single green carpet was spread along the lengths of the room, from above creating a clear representation of the crux, at the middle of which stood a height variable office table, a laptop laying open on top. Filling cabinets encircled parts of the room, all but one firmly closed. Windows covered the left-hand wall.

"I assume your little 'retreat to the hilly countryside to reconnect with God wasn't as peaceful as first expected?"

Shaun Naidoo gave the judicial vicar sitting at the desk a sideways look from where he stood at the open window; "It was nice; a good respite from having to hunt down strays and fallen."

"… You always did enjoy the quiet life… So, what happened…?"

The African descendant grunted, "You would know that if you read the report…"

The vicar raised his brown eyes from the papers he was holding and gave the exorcist a harsh look, "I did read the report, I'm holding it here in my hands."

The man tossed the folder onto the table and straightened out in his seat.

"Sit." He said simply.

Shaun gave another grunt of malcontent but pulled himself from his imposed vigil at the window that overlooked the small plaza and moved towards one of the free chairs.

Seeing the man take a seat, the vicar ordered, "Report, Exorcist Naidoo."

"Sir. Upon arriving at St Elise on the 5th of November, 2015, and getting settled I began my Exorcist duties by making contact with the sanctified nun, Asia Argento, to profile her personality, habits and allegiances. I also began undergoing an SOP in the area, though I didn't expect to find anything. During the search, I had heard of sporadic disappearances in the woods and mountains surrounding the monastery and town, but I signed these up to tourists getting lost in an area that all looked all the same to outside eyes. My investigations of the area seemed to confirm this initial assumption: most of the disappeared were tourists, mostly because the locals largely refused to enter the woods, while the area itself was by any description peaceful. Not even my hunting tools showed any fluctuations.

This initial assumption of mine proved wrong, as a few packs of plated hellhound cats had taken up refuge deeper in the forest, creating territories that at times took them dangerously close to some of the small towns and villages that border the woods and mountains. As you know, they are extremely hard to track and detect using standard equipment. I was lucky enough to happen upon one of their territorial disputes..."

His tone of voice said it all; he had barely escaped with his life.

The vicar flipped through the folder, reading aloud as he found the corresponding paper.

"'Request for hellhound cat elimination kit; acquisition for an R-89 with a scope and an accompanying bayonet of strengthened obsidian, a Raging Bull, 1600 rounds of three-six Cal snake killer hollow points, 800 rounds of four-hour Cal snake killer hollows… 30 Malakian gas grenades, another 30 with snake killer fragments and 12 anti-personnel mines with snake killer fragments'. You went all out, yet didn't call for reinforcements..."

"Let's just say that while I wasn't armed for the occasion, I was confident I would be able to clear out the area. That said, nearly losing my life once was enough reason to call in the big guns."

"And you didn't think of doing so once the fourth time came around…? Almighty, you do take after my worst traits." The older man shook his head painfully as if he had just recognised a fact that had been pointed out to him before.

"Do continue."

"The time between making the acquisition and receiving the hardware, eleven days, was spent looking after Argento."

"It would be around this time that the two of you grew close, I assume?"

"Not close, per se... We built an accord and got to know each other, and I told her of my Exorcist status to gain further trust. Of course, most, if not all of the men inhabiting the monastery wasn't privy to this information. This only reinforced the bond that was forming."

"Shared secrets have a way of doing that, in my experience."

Shaun looked a bit uncomfortable, but pushed through it, "If I may speak freely, I was informed that the girl knew of our arm of the church, but she was surprisingly naive in her questioning. Even some of the uninformed monks seemed to recognise that I was different from other priests, but this girl was none the wiser until I told her of my status. It was as if she hadn't been told anything."

The vicar gave him an unconcerned look, "I wasn't part of the group who informed her of the existence of the different realms and the nature of our relationships with them. Whatever the reasons were, she may not have been made privy to anything beyond the most essential. Most likely, she wasn't considered useful enough to be given more information."

"I answered all the questions I found safe to give her."

"Inconsequential in this case, so long as you didn't give her access to the armoury. Continue."

Shaun coughed to clear his voice and retold the events of his five-month-long hunt of the tainted heavenly creatures, going into details at some points and brushing over the unnecessary parts unless asked to elaborate. Forty minutes later, dawns light was pouring through the eastwards facing windows.

"So it was a mixed bag; for all of my successes, all the creatures I managed to slay, it was still slow going to find the remaining three lairs... and that was when the reason I was sent there made itself known."

He shifted slightly in his chair, "I had managed to do a lot to understand Asia's way of thinking and acting, but there were still things I hadn't figured out, and the schedule for her walks was the most glaring."

"Her walks?" His mentor asked incredulously, "That should have been among the first things you should have figured out."

"You're right." He nodded, "So many things about the teen are predictable, I shouldn't have had any problems figuring that one out. But I hadn't for one reason or the other, perhaps out of respect, perhaps I didn't pay enough attention... But I had gotten a feel for it, her presence. And that afternoon she wasn't in or around the monastery. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, really; she would roam the fields and the nearby town whenever it struck her to do so. At the time, I didn't have the equipment necessary to continue my hunt, so I was stuck waiting for the next shipment. My fourth... as it were. At around five that afternoon, my energy scanner suddenly got a hit on a demonic signature, and it was slowly heading towards the monastery. It put me on guard, but I assumed that it would turn around and leave once the holy powers became too much for it. All the same, I prepared for a confrontation and moved towards the signature while keeping out of sight. I was hoping to keep the entire thing on the down low, but it was out of my hands. A monk, having met Asia on the way back, came running, shouting about a demon having seduced the nun. It started a commotion, and once she returned, carrying the devil's unconscious body, the monks had gathered to meet them. I'm sure I don't have to describe how the meeting went down..."

The vicar waved his hand dismissively, urging him to continue.

"Aside from whatever damage that that kind of negative attention could have on a young mind like hers, it also had the added benefit of waking the devil up, big surprise there. By that point, I couldn't detain him or start a silent exorcism. Worse than that, the impromptu witch trial turned as bad as it could get, discounting the violence… Have to give the monks that much credit, they didn't mess with him physically and simply shouted obscenities at him, even if that can't be classified as the most brilliant of actions to take. Either way, I intervened before it could go from bad to worse. He took flight the moment he saw me, leading me on a merry chase before I managed to ground him with the light gun. Still, he managed to get away. He erected a powerful barrier around him, capable of withstanding my light-based weapons and ported away. Finding no trace of him, I went back to detain and interrogate Asia."

"And then you called us…"

"Yes."

There was a return to a long silence, broken by the clanking of weights against the wall, the flickering of papers and the at times surprisingly loud scribbling of a pen on paper. The vicar took his last notes and read through the four new arcs of papers that had been filled with his writing, cross-referencing them with the written report of one Shaun Naidoo. Five months of life put to paper; profiles of the members of the monastery, of the nun Asia Argento, scouting reports, observation reports, recounting of major events and touches of minor events.

Shaun, seeing as he wasn't needed, got up and returned to the window, witnessing the suns path from barely visible above the rooftops to a quarter of the morning sky.

The long wait was punctuated by a tired sigh from the older man by the table, "I have all I need, this is enough material for her to lose her position as a saint and be banished from the church."

Shaun whirled around at the declaration, eyes widened in shock, "Lose – Banished!? Why? I have clearly stated that I found no reason to believe that she has had any contact with this devil, or any other before this occurrence. Within her mind, she was saving an innocent soul!"

The vicar messaged his eyes, "I believe you… And I believe that you believe her. The circumstances don't matter in this case, just as the monks believed her to be a witch because they found her able to heal a devil, the Vatican will see her as a traitor for doing so."

"She was well within her rights!" the African argued, "She can't be punished for having both the heart and the ability to heal anyone! Cease-fire treaty or not, both sides have an obligation to provide members of the other with medical aid and provisions should they be captured or found incapacitated."

"That very same act gives us the right to hunt devils and fallen angels that trespass upon our territory, the act that gives us the right to eliminate stray devils and do what is seen as necessary to protect our own. Acts that both the Grigori and Gehinnom have broken in the past."

"Their breaking of the treaty has no bearing on this, and you know it!"

"You're right."

His mentor's voice was tired as he said those words, but not from having been forced into a full night of work. It was a weariness that Shaun had only heard in the voices of older exorcists, those that had failed and seen massive losses of innocent lives as a result. The men and women who knew, or at least thought that had they done anything different, not made that one mistake, that they could have changed the outcome of the situation.

"But the church needs this." He urged

"Needs it…?" The exorcist breathed out in disbelief. "Needs it! Why would the church need to punish a person that in any other situation would have been given praise!?"

"The Rinmlomn Valley Treaty…"

Shaun frowned, trying to remember the specifics of the conference. It was by no means a recent event, its signing was older than many of the countries on earth, but it was an important one all the same. The year it was signed largely escaped him, but the overarching content of it did not: exorcists like him studied parts of it closely as many of the ground rules for when and how they were allowed to act were based around the contents of the six hundred page treaty.

The problem was, his memory found nothing that could connect the current situation with the writing on those pages. He'd need to think further.

"This is a political move, isn't it?" He frowned at the older man.

It was the downside to being a grunt, a field agent: you seldom knew the true scope of the politics that went on in conjunction with your operations. But the ramifications of losing yet another nun or exorcist were obvious to anyone, especially if they were powerful. It would be a hit to the moral, and people would start questioning either the leadership or the cause. Or worse, both.

And that was from the people inside or connected to the church, it could weaken the standing of not only their organisation but also of Heaven itself with other parties.

"We're losing credibility, too many nuns with powerful abilities have disappeared through devil involvement. We need to show the realms that we don't stand idly by and watch this happen. Treason will not be tolerated, nor will the people who inspire it be allowed to go unpunished." The vicar told him severely, his gaze harsh.

"You want to use her as a scapegoat…"

"I trust you will be able to testify without your feelings for the girl getting in the way."

"Is- is this truly necessary? I don't believe that she would turn against us, she's too pure to harbour the negativity to do so."

"Perhaps, but the example has to be set all the same. If they show a wish to leave they'll be banished and left without protection, their 'friends' can take care of them. True treason, however, will be met as it should. An enemy is best dead or kept under close watch. Saint Asia Argento, who have had pilgrimages made to her honour, will undergo an official and open trial. People will witness her fall from grace, and the truth will be closely guarded secret."

He took a breath, "I like this no more than you, Shaun. But this is for the best, Argento is well known, a celebrity within our organisation. If the best of us can fall, and if the best of us can be trialled, then others will be more wary of the threat that the devils pose. Less willing to follow them or the fallen. Shaun," He caught his students eye, making sure that he well understood the importance of what he was going to tell him, "this will calm down the radicals… it may prevent a rekindling of the war… and most importantly, it'll keep the church as one entity in a time where we cannot allow to be split. We can't afford to have a civil war on our hands. Not now, not ever."

The vicar stood up, hands upon his back and with a face of stone as he glared the exorcist down, "In the face of these facts, I now order you: don't let your feelings for this young girl get in the way, report her as a heretic… tell the judges that you have reason to believe that Asia Argento is a witch."

~-o0O0o-~

The bottle made a shaky touchdown on the counter. In spite of having gotten used to the ache that came with overdone physical exercise, the shaking of tired muscles wasn't something he had gotten any greater control over. It could also be that the consumption of the lightly pee coloured, not to mention just as colourfully tasting, liquid was finally starting to catch up to him.

Worse, neither had helped to lift his mood; he was now tired, drunk and not to mention angry. The combination wasn't holy either way, only worsening with the fact that his stomach was working on little more than the fumes of what had been his lunch some seven hours ago. Despite this, he wasn't hungry. Or at least, the blonde was telling himself that. It was a great aid to him that the hunger pains had passed half an hour ago, even if the subject of his thoughts had remained.

Why was it that whenever something bad was about to 'scab over', as it were, that something else had to happen to keep you down?

Not true…

He hollowly reminded himself, even if it sure felt like the world was out to get him…

Picking up the glass, he took a healthy gulp of the wine, drinking it down quickly to hopefully not have to taste every single drop of the foul-tasting liquid. Cassandra may have had 'fine taste in wine', as her husband put it, but Kenny really couldn't see it… A whiskey or, even better, a cold Mariestad would have been preferable, but when your choice of drink is limited to either red or white wine or champagne…

Now that he thought about it, he'd need to give them a call sooner or later. Later, if his memory served him as well as it normally did. Later, if his propensity for not giving calls held strong. Sooner if his mood picked up…

An~d… when you think of calls…

He stared blankly at an invisible spot on the tiles while the sound echoed in his ears with brutality. A short respite was allowed him, but twenty seconds later the sound resumed the torture.

Feeling like his head was filled with helium and threatening to carry him off into the sky had that been at all possible, he got out of his chair with little problem. Despite that, he frowned; it felt like it took a quarter of a second longer than it normally did for his body to recognise the commands his brain was giving it before moving. A cleansing breath had him focused enough to counteract that particular effect of the alcohol, even if it did little to remedy the feeling of emptiness in his head.

He got to the door before whoever was outside could press the button a third time. Kenny gave her a look before turning around and walking back inside and turning into the kitchen, silently inviting the neighbour mom to follow him. A near silent click from the locking mechanism shutting and the low shuffling at the door as she removed her shoes and put on her indoor slippers told him she had.

"How's Kaoru…?" he asked, taking out an extra glass from one of the cupboards.

"She fell asleep around two in the morning and had a restless sleep." Aiko entered his living room and gave a humourless snort, "One of the only times that girl seem to cry is when she has nightmares… How are you holding up?"

"Well enough; sleep escaped me, though. Got maybe a couple of hours in before I finally gave up… Want anything to drink? I've got coke, wine… water, big surprise." Leaning out to get some kind of confirmation he was met by Aiko's questioning gaze, the open and half-empty bottle of Vin Blanc in her hand held up with the label clearly displayed towards him.

"Which question do you want to be answered first? Why I've got it, how and where I got it from, if I drank all that by myself or if it's okay for you to have some?"

"… How old are you again…?" She asked with hints of suppressed disapproval in her voice.

"… seventeen…?" he answered after a short pause, not entirely certain if the answer was the correct one to give at this point. Sure, perhaps it was bad to drink, but he sure had not expected her to be the one to point it out.

Regardless, he wasn't in the mood to have that particular discussion...

"... no wine, then..." Kenny mumbled as he put down the glass on the counter, almost having forgotten he had been holding it.

"You realise that you're too young to drink, right?"

He gave her a sardonic look, "Correction; I am, by law, considered too young to buy alcohol, but most countries do not have a minimum age for drinking."

Her narrowing eyes, not mentioning the lack of mirth that was normally present in them, told him that had been the wrong thing to say. Quickly reiterating the sentence in his head, he could see why. Not wanting to deal with the situation, he waved it off with a 'forget it', downed the last of the wine in his own glass and reached for the bottle only for Aiko to pull it out of his reach and take a step back.

"I'm putting it away." The swede stated irritably with a frown.

Aiko stood firm, "You don't have a problem, do you?"

He quirked his head at the concern in her tone, the frown turning into an expression of confusion, "Problem...?"

The woman lifted the bottle again and sloshed the contents around enough to be audible.

He looked at her flatly, feeling insulted at the insinuation of being an alcoholic, before snorting. Moving a couple of papers on the counter closer to her, he turned around and put his glass in the sink and started to wash the dirty dishes by hand to keep himself occupied.

"Disruptive behaviour…?"

Kenny grunted, "Seems that arguing innocence is a stupid thing to do here."

"Must have been an uphill battle… We got a call from your school, a Takagami Ryouta." The dark-haired woman mentioned in a faux offhand manner, holding the picture that he had smuggled with him from the guidance room.

"My homeroom teacher..." He informed, "Did he say anything?"

"Only that the incident was under investigation, but he didn't say anything about you getting suspended."

"Suppose he called before I got my just reward of five days of vacation..."

Aiko gave a snort at the blank statement, "Is that how you see it?"

The Swede gave another grunt, "Tomorrow I will. Now I'm just pissed at how the moronic imbeciles that call themselves teachers handled this entire situation. Minus Takagami-sensei... "

The distinction had to be made, out of principle if not out of necessity. Well, even Takagami could have handled it better, but his contribution was better than anyone else's in the matter.

He wished he could say that the teachers back in Sweden could have handled it better, but they mostly put the two students in the same room and let them talk it out, ending it all with a handshake… He had gotten into fights a couple of weeks later because of the continued bullying, had small rockets put in his locker and had fruits thrown at him. Back into the room they got, each. And. Every. Time.

Talk.

Handshake.

Out the fucking door.

Where was a cold Mariestad when you needed it…?

Aiko returned a loose focus to the papers on the counter during the long silence, during which the only sounds to be heard were the clinking of glass and porcelain and the pouring of water from the tap, but didn't really read the words. She gave the picture only cursory glance; she had no reason to believe the story it told.

"He had bleeders disease…"

Kenny turned around, looking confused. Noticing this, Aiko tapped a finger on the photograph to indicate the man.

"He also had weak bones. They had to do brain surgery to save his life. According to Touya, there's still a chance he won't make it: they have had to put a drain in his reconstructed skull and give him a blood transfusion, lest he'd suffer too much pressure to the brain or bleed out completely." She put the picture down and gave a humourless chuckle, "He's still stuck with a machine to pump blood for him, but he was breathing on his own when Touya checked. Even if the guy does make it, Touya says there's the chance that he's lost some physical functions due to the damage, maybe even suffered mental damage due to the blood loss. At best, it's only temporary…"

Touya had gone against patient confidentiality to, in some small way, help Kaoru be less worried about the event. It had helped… somewhat. She was still too young to understand the implications, and where an adult mind would find some solace in the knowledge, she was more curious about the non-gory specifics of the procedure and the fact that the man wasn't dead than a diagnosis.

Another, albeit much shorter, silence followed. Absent was the clinking of dishes, the rush of tapwater sounding all the louder for it. There weren't many thoughts flying around in his head after Aiko had spoken, he was simply going through the information subconsciously. No active thoughts needed for that.

Finally, the blonde answered with a grunt. There wasn't anything to say, really, at least as far as he could come up with. Instead, he picked up the bottle of wine and looked at the etiquette, some Italian phrase written on its front in cursive script and a few grapes in one corner, while under the watchful gaze of the Japanese woman.

"Did you know that the Romans used to wash their clothes with pee?" He asked offhandedly.

"No." she answered simply, the infliction of her voice making it clear she was wondering where he was going with the out of left field question.

"It's a natural…" He searched for the word, but couldn't find it. "… whitener. Wrong word, but I haven't learned the real one. In any case, they noticed how their clothes became much whiter when washed with pee. Brilliant as they were, they decided that they should put it into their mouths and whiten their teeth with it."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Aiko's face twist in disgust, making him chuckle.

"Did not need to know that… Where are you going with this?"

He held up the little under half full bottle and backed away towards the sink, "I have never actually tasted pee before, but I'm pretty sure this wine tastes exactly like it."

He uncaringly poured the contents into the drain as he finished that statement…

~-o0 April 23rd, Saturday, 2016 0o- ~

"23rd of April, 2016. We have assembled here today to pass judgement upon the Saint, Asia Argento, who stand accused of practising witchcraft, as well as aiding, having relations and being in a contract with a devil."

-End-

And I'll cut it off there… partially so that you people won't have to wait, and partially so that I don't get stuck with a chapter that's 30 000 words long, which is what I'll wind up with if I continue writing to the end I had planned. Some of you may not have a problem with that, I certainly wouldn't, but it would set back my releases even more than they already are.

The Gremory group has appeared! Well, part of them, at least. And while some of them may appear OOC, cough Rias cough, this have been done for a reason, and she's in fact not OOC. Well, at least you haven't seen this side of her before

That being said, I would like for you guys to give a comment or two on the characters, anything really. Frankly, they are the ones that I have problems with.

Is Kiryuu in character?

What are your thoughts on the Sakaki's?

Does Kenny require therapy for his anger issues?

Where the hell are my internal demon that symbolises the readers and my critical self…?

No idea on the last one. It confuses me that I have gotten this far without it popping up, but perhaps it's enjoying the holiday season.

Oh, and one more thing; for those that wonder about the current state of the next chapter or whatnot, I post updates on my profile at the end/beginning of each month. Or when it hits me to do so…

Wordcount for this chapter: 19 952 words