A/N:
I don't really have the best excuse, but let's just be honest.
If you guys are in Color Guard or in Marching Band, you would understand how busy it is, especially during marching season.
Now, if you guys are in Marching Band or in Color Guard with all honors classes, you would understand and proceed to nod and comment with a small, "She's going to die with all this crap."
Well, yeah. Something like that.
Anyway, so really quickly.
Yeah, you know what. Just straight to the story.
May wasn't sure what made her look first—his hair, or the fact she recognized the presence once, maybe once and a half. But when she turned, he had turned too.
He had lavender colored hair, and a glare which he seemed to be quite famous for.
He glanced at the traffic light, seeing it was still red, and quickly fogged up the glass on his window.
May squinted her eyes trying to see what he was doing.
And in messy writing, she recognized three names—Gary, Drew, and Leaf.
The fog cleared quickly, leaving a stunned May trying to get his attention and as the traffic light turned green. He drove away without a second glance, and cars honked behind May. She stared for half a second more before driving back home that night.
Paul watched his assassin with amusement etched on his face. Leaf still had a damaged hand and—as reviewed by the nurse—was almost fractured.
But Leaf didn't care. She deserved the pain.
What Paul didn't understand, however, was the fact that punching a radio could, in fact, not cause a near fracture. Especially on an assassin.
She stayed in a second position, her left foot in front of her right, as she repeatedly punched a punching bag with vigor and frustration.
"So, what really happened for you to hurt your hand that bad?" Paul asked as Leaf took off her kick-boxing gloves. She examined her hand, which was beginning to bleed. Leaf looked away from her hand and surveyed her technician. She raised an eyebrow.
"What's with the school uniform? Last I checked, techs don't need to go to school." Leaf shot back, frustration, anger and irritation in her pores.
Paul shrugged, the scowl returning to his face. "I got assigned to some detective work. They need information on a girl that knows Hayden's target."
Leaf let her hand drop to her side. "Drew Hayden?"
Paul pulled out a leather suitcase and opened it. Inside were three manila folders, one labeled Vanity Private School, the other Underground Assassins, and the final Dawn Berlitz.
Leaf focused on Dawn's name. The way the i in her last name was dotted, or the way the z was written hastily.
"Dawn Berlitz?" she asked, her eyes tracing the handwriting once more, before noticing Paul had taken out a small green bottle of pills.
Paul opened up the bottle and took two pills out. He held them in an enclosed fist and held it out to Leaf. Leaf warily let her hand out as Paul dropped them in her palm.
"Steroids." Paul answered at Leaf's confused face, "Your stats are falling behind other assassins."
Leaf looked at the pills and threw her head back as she dry-swallowed both pills.
Her face scrunched up at the bitter taste, and when she looked up, Paul was exiting the training room. She could barely hear him say "Meeting tonight, they want statuses."
In a final instant, with her bad hand, she drew her arm back and punched her hardest at the punching bag.
She heard a satisfying crack in her hand.
Wednesdays were bicycle days.
May would be the first up, wearing her best pair of shorts (that were clean) and a red tank top. She's have her hair tied in a matching bandana, and matching red converse.
But this was winter. And no way in hell was May walking out of her house in shorts.
She instead put on a pair of simple black jeans, and her red sweater, with a black tank top under. She biked all the way to Ash's house first, getting a warm slice of French toast from his mom, and biked to Misty's house.
"I didn't know Misty lived over here." Ash commented, looking at the neighborhood. May, who had gotten warm from biking, took off her jacket and placed it in the basket.
"Her sisters live here, she's just rooming with them." May smiled, remembering when she had dropped off the red head at her house for the first time. May had looked at the mansion in shock, while Misty laughed and said, "I'm just rooming with my sisters until I graduate. I would never want to live anywhere with them.
Ash looked around the neighborhood. "Drew lives down the block from here," he said, "Gary took me to his house once." May looked curiously at her friend. May had a white bike, and Ash had a red one. May always liked the red one, but she was happy with her white bike.
"I've never actually seen Drew walk to his house or to school from his house." She said, as they stopped in front of Misty's house.
"He lives in his own apartment," he announced as May knocked on the front door. "Can we go get him?"
May let her lip curl slightly in annoyance, still peeved off about kissing her. But she stopped in a moment. She was being so unnecessarily mean to him, when every second of the day he seemed to look like everyone was out to kill him.
Ash had already prepared himself for the answer 'no,' but when May nodded, a huge grin broke on his face. "Seriously?"
May laughed, "Yeah, I don't care."
Ash fist –pumped the cold air as the door opened. Misty was seen in dark blue jeans and a yellow shirt. She was teary-eyed. She sniffled and attention drew to her. Ash immediately stopped smiling and looked at her with worry.
"What happened?" Ash asked in concern as they both walked inside. It was unusually quiet, May noted. She always heard Misty's sisters in the house every morning.
"I need to talk to you." Misty said, looking at Ash. Misty looked at May for a moment before the brunette grabbed the red-head in a tight hug.
"Don't cry," May whispered.
Ash joined the hug too. "Smile," he said, "You look prettier when you do."
This only caused Misty to cry more.
May respected Misty's privacy. After all, Misty and Ash had been best friends since Kindergarten days. She knew he came first when it was secrets, and, though she was slightly hurt, she didn't dare show it.
Ash had told her the directions to Drew's apartment, and true to her word, went to go get him. She put her hoodie back on, not comfortable in the tank top all of a sudden, and knocked on the door.
May had counted to 26 before the door was answered. Drew stood in the door way, wearing a white v-neck under a black jacket and dark blue jeans. The only things on his feet was a pair of off-white socks.
Drew only chuckled at May, "You know," he said, "Out of all the people I don't expect knocking on my door, you're number two."
May looked at him in confusion, "Who's number one?" she asked.
"My parents." He shrugged, retreating back inside the apartments. He left the door open. "Feel free to come in, I'm pretty sure it's cold outside."
May walked inside, closing the door behind her carefully and looked around. The walls were a plain white, with no real decorations except for old vinyl records, with the albums under their respective records. May looked at each of them, trying to memorize them.
The Beatles, Elvis Presley, The Doors, and other that May knew she wouldn't remember.
Drew saw her staring. "Those are Gary's. It's a gift from his grandpa."
"Gary lives with you?" She asked.
"Sometimes, yeah. But he's over at someone else's house today." He turned into his kitchen, and poured himself a cup of coffee. "Do you want some?" he asked as he mixed milk with it. May shook her head, earning a shrug as a response.
May looked around. A small black recliner was on the wall by the window, and on the wall opposite of that was a white couch. Above the couch were the vinyl records, and next to the couch was the phonograph. Next to the recliner, however, was an iPod dock, where music unrecognizable to May was playing. A desktop computer was on, on the far side of the wall. A coffee table was smack in the middle of all the furniture, littered with unlabeled manila folders, and other dirty, empty mugs of what used to be filled with coffee.
Drew walked back into the living room and stood next to May. A warm cup of coffee was in his hand, making May regret declining the coffee offer.
May raised an eyebrow at the coffee table. "Busy person?" He nodded.
"So is there a reason that you happen to stop by at my apartment this morning?" He asked, taking a sip
"I ride my bike to school on Wednesdays with everyone else. But Leaf's going to a meeting and Ash and Misty need to talk about something. So Ash wanted me to go with you instead."
Drew sipped his coffee again before answering. "I'll take this as a sign that you're getting used to my presence. Just let me put on my shoes and we can leave." And then, he placed a new empty mug on the table.
Dawn was by far the nicest person in her math class. She hadn't gotten past Algebra One, and that was because she hated math.
And frankly, math really needs to get over its x.
The class was full of the dumb and conceited popular kids that always thought they were the best, even though the real popular kids were all in the smartest of classes. She stayed in the class at lunch, hiding from everyone, really. But when the teacher, who stayed in at lunch, eating a sandwich from Subway or a burger and some fries (she always brought extra fries for Dawn) from In-N-Out, asked her why she was in there, she simply replied with a shrug and said "I don't want to be in this class again next year with the rest of this class."
And she tried her hardest, she honestly did. She kept her notes most organized for this class. And she almost understood it.
But if the pricks in this class would actually shut the hell up, she'd pass the class.
"We're having a new student today, Dawn," the teacher said that Wednesday during lunch. "He's going to be tutoring people and teaching some lessons while I have meetings."
Dawn perked up, "Why would you have meetings?"
The teacher sighed, and tossed the one rock—appropriately named Rocko (a gift from Dawn)—from her desk back and forth between her hands.
"The school wants me to teach Algebra 2 or Calculus next year." The teacher said. She left the rock drop on her left hand, and threw her head back in despair as if it was a cancerous tumor to teach higher level math. With her free hand, she felt around her desk for her fries. When she found it, she grabbed a whole handful and stuffed it in her mouth.
Dawn giggled at the sight. Her teacher, the nick-named 'The Rock Loving Honor Teacher', Roxanne, was nothing but mature. To see her stuff her face as if she was eating away the feelings was a humorous sight.
"You know, Dawn?" Roxanne lifted her head up and looked at the bluenette with worry, "Why did you start coming to my class all of a sudden for lunch?"
Dawn froze up at her words, staring down at her homework from yesterday as she checked her answers from the teacher's copy. She didn't know how to explain—not even a nice way to explain it without worrying Roxanne, and having the news float back to her mother.
Oh god, how could she tell her mother what was going on in school?
No, no, no, no, no.
"Dawn?" Roxanne repeated her name, about to get up.
That had sent the tears—just her name. Hearing her name being called as if it were said with true concern. It started with a tiny tear on her homework. But it came into a sniffle, and a sob.
Dawn buried her head in her hands, as if that would make her disappear from her only friend at the school and make her sobs less audible.
"Oh, gosh, Dawn!" Roxanne hurried to the door and closed it, before going to Dawn and putting a comforting arm around her. "I heard the rumors, you know," She whispered in her ear. Dawn only stopped sobbing for a moment before crying again, "I think it's best if you transferred schools."
Paul had a headache from lunch. He was the second to walk into the class, and before the teacher noticed his presence, popped an Advil in his mouth followed by a gulp of water.
The only other person in the class was a girl who kept her head down low to the desk and sat in the very middle of the class. The teacher was next to her, pointing to a seat by the window. The girl only shook her head.
The teacher sighed and stood up, noticing Paul's presence. "Yes?"
The girl next to the teacher froze rubbed her eye before looking at him. They met eye contact, both trying to remember a memory they had seemed to lose.
"I'm a new student." Paul grumbled, "And this is my class."
"Sit wherever you want, there's no seating chart."
Paul looked back at the girl again, remembering three words that connected in his head.
Assignment, Dawn Berlitz.
He walked to the seat next to Dawn and sat down. Dawn looked at him.
"I remember you now." She whispered as students began to file in the class.
Paul froze. She didn't see him with Gary or Drew, did she? If she did, then he was going to need a lie—and fast.
"You gave May the disk, right?"
Paul went back weeks for the memory, like a movie on hyper-speed rewind before it stopped on the memory of giving May a disk, and seeing Dawn in the seat in front of May.
"It was a gift from her friend." He said, "I just deliver."
"Truth or Dare?" Drew asked, on his green bike, next to May.
"Truth." She said, giving him a curious look.
"What's the most reckless thing you've done?" He asked, a smile playing on his lips.
"Befriend you," she joked.
"So we're friends, now?" He asked teasingly.
"The closest." She teased back. "As a matter of fact, you're practically my best friend."
"As you are mine." They exchanged smiles, "At this rate, we'll get married."
"Can't wait, but the cake has to be chocolate." May nodded, "Definitely chocolate."
"Fine, but then we have to get married in Sweden, so it can be Sweden chocolate."
"No way!" She scoffed, "Alto Mare has the best places to get married at!"
Drew groaned, "I thought we agreed on this, Alto Mare has creepy people!"
"Mimes are only creepy to you!"
"Don't even start with this argument again."
"Fine! Then I'm calling the wedding off!" May went ahead of Drew, going at a faster speed than him. Drew increased his pace, trailing behind.
"No! May! We can have the wedding wherever you want! Whenever you want! Have whatever you want in it! Just don't leave me!"
May slowed down, letting Drew be next to her again, "Oh, Drew! I can never stay mad at you! The wedding is back on!"
They both looked at each other, as if filled with love and adoration, before simultaneously bursting into laughter.
They turned into the school parking lot, still laughing, if only lightly, and placed their bikes in the rack. By the time they finished locking the bikes, they gave each other another look, and had another fit of laughter.
"Let's meet up after school?" May asked, after recovering.
"Yeah," Drew smirked, "We need to finish making wedding plans, love." He kissed her on the cheek, retrieved his backpack and walked to where he agreed to meet Gary.
"May Maple still isn't dead yet." Gary Oak said with confidence. All eyes turned to the Gary-and-Drew pair. Drew held his gaze to each and every person's glare, accepting the fact that he is failing his assignment, and that Gary was now directing what to do.
Paul shifted in his seat next to Drew and scowled along with the others.
"Why." He didn't ask. He demanded. His dark eyes scanned the two eighteen-year-olds as if they were the worst assassins he's ever known. Nobody knew his name, except for one, maybe two. But that's unimportant right now. We'll save that for later, much later.
"One of her closest friends is an assassin." Drew said. "She's anticipated our moves, and protected Maple since we have targeted her."
"Well, kill the assassin." Said a tech named Tobias. He glared at the lower-leveled assassin and tech for their stupidity.
"No." Everyone snapped their head towards the head of the table. No-name had his hands enclosed in front of his face, as hey analyzed each and every tech and assassin in the room. "She is the opposing Queen's pawn in a game of chess. She moves wherever she wants. She does whatever she wants. And she takes whoever she wants. She is the King's defender—in this case, Maple. On our side we have Drew, the Queen—"
"Do I have to be a queen?" Muttered an aggravated Drew.
"I'm holding this against you for the rest of your life." Smirked Gary.
"—The player is Gary, who is now controlling Drew's every advancement on the King. Gary holds the place of the Knight, as well, protecting Gary and distracting the opposing assassin. The pawns—who we use to our advantage—are the civilians involved in this. We want as many civilians alive as we can. She has her civilians, which are her clueless friends. And we have our civilians, who play an equal side on our team."
"Wait," Paul said, trying to recollect this, "The pawns on both sides are the same people."
No-name raised an eyebrow, "We can both manipulate them. Why wouldn't they be?"
"Because we already know our Knight pieces, and the player—Gary. My tech. We need to know who her Knight pieces are, and who the player is." Drew said. No-name raised an eyebrow at him. He was right.
"Well she's definitely not using the same strategy as us." Gary said, "Her tech doesn't go to the same school as her."
"How do you know that." No-name demanded. He looked from Gary to Drew, who forced themselves not to lose composure under the glare.
"She told me her technician has his own work to do, and doesn't doubt her to mess up her assignments, so he leaves her alone." Gary said, "I got her mad enough to make it slip out."
Two seat down, Paul scoffed, "Obviously, she's messing it up by protecting her friends and looking up your files."
"How do you know she looked up our files?" Drew said, "She knew I was an assassin targeting Maple before she looked up the files."
"We get calls telling us who looks up our files. However, thanks to yours truly, the important sheets were stolen." He explained to Drew. "She didn't find anything good to keep down on yours or Gary's."
"But that doesn't answer the question: Who the hell are we playing this game against, and who is her knight?" Drew asked. "From what I understood, she's playing a losing battle on her own. She's her own Queen. And her knight is distracting us from killing her."
"No," Paul shook his head, seeing a blue-print of this metaphoric game in her head. "She's manipulating you to be her knight."
Steven Stone was officially calling the meeting to order—with or without Paul Shinji.
"Leaf Green," Leaf snapped her head up to face the owner of Devon Corporation and her boss, "What's the status on Harley Cacturne?"
Leaf opened her mouth to speak. But the doors opened, cutting her off. Paul walked in with his usual scowl and a laptop. He typed on the laptop for a moment, sat down, and spoke for her.
"Confirmed dead at River Valley last week on Monday." He said, "The death certificate will be printed."
"Good," Steven nodded, "Paul, why are you late?"
"Underground Assassins are beginning to suspect me again." Paul explained.
"How would they suspect you?" Steven asked.
"I was given phony hacking programs." He growled. He didn't remember who gave him the programs, but they failed and almost got him in one hell of a lot of trouble.
Steven sighed, as if determining what to do, and then abandoned the thought.
"Whatever, he's here now," Leaf said, "Let's just be glad that my tech is still—"
"—Leaf what the actual fuck did you do to your hand?" Steven asked, letting the curse word slip out of his mouth as he saw the youngest assassin make a gesture with her hand. Or, at least, the cast of her hand. It was covered with gauze and held together by a safety pin. The form, in all, seemed slightly unnatural. Immediately, she placed it back on her lap, under the table.
"Nothing," She lied, "Some scrawny idiot just dropped a dumbbell—"
"—On your hand?" A tech from the other side of the room said. His name was Tracey.
"It's a long and complicated story, alright?" Leaf muttered to no one in particular.
Steven groaned. "Just get this over with, okay?" He ran a hand through his light blue hair, and shifted his gaze to Leaf again. "What's the status on Maple?"
"Currently alive." Leaf said, sitting straighter in her chair. "The assassin has passed his kill by date, and now it's up to the tech to monitor the assassin."
"Have you found out who the technician is?" Steven asked, looking straight ahead to a blank wall.
You want her alive? Gary had laughed as he had made breakfast for himself one morning. Leaf had spent the night, as she was instructed—forced—to do. He was over a stove, making bacon in one pan, and in another was sunny-side up eggs. There was coffee being made, and toast in the toaster, to top it all off was a pair of green pills on the counter. Echoing throughout the apartment, was a song by Anarbor that Gary sang along to at times of the chorus. Don't let anyone know who the tech and assassin are, not even your tech.
She had obliged, of course, turning around as a tear smothered her cheek. She crossed her arms over her chest as Gary returned to singing. The only words she could remember was 'Realize in ignorance is bliss'
"No, I don't think he goes to the same school with the assassin." Leaf said flawlessly. There was an error in her statement, Paul noted, but he was never going to point it out.
Steven looked at the time, and said "Which pair is leaving first?"
Leaf and Paul raised their free hands.
The assassins and techs never left all at the same time, or it would be too suspicious. They left at intervals, making it seem more random.
"Three minutes," Paul said, "and we leave."
Steven looked at the time one more time, before saying final words.
"Leaf," Steven said, "Keep Maple alive at all costs."
Leaf nodded, understanding.
But, you, reader, keep in mind: they are assassins.
There is no good guy or bad guy, just bad guys that trick you into sympathizing for them. Do not think, not even for a second, that any good deeds are going on. Because no matter what side you are on, Underground Assassins or Steven's assassin groups that's still unnamed, the black or white pieces in chess, a tech or assassin, or just a line in a friendly Anarbor song. In the end, you're just like Paul—who has no sides, just trying to figure out what's right, and what's wrong.
And just like Paul, you'll never really find out. You just guess.
A/N:
4,108 words ._.
GOD DAEM
Review? I hope this one came out really good c:
Tell me which part you liked best c:
