Trigger Warning: The first section of this chapter takes place in the perspective of Ann Takamaki while she is cornered by Kamoshida. As such, it features a scene where a sexual predator is coercing his victim and making them experience feelings of entrapment, shame, sexual harassment, and coercion. If you are sensitive to these types of things, please be careful as I don't wish to cause any harm or unrest.

With that being said, onto the chapter.

4/12 Morning

Ann looked to the door when she heard it slide open and grimaced when the new guy everyone wouldn't shut up about walked to the teacher's desk. Kawakami gave a tired glare as he silently deposited a note on it and just as silently walked to his desk. She watched him as he went by her own, and again felt a surge of annoyance at his blank expression. She caught him cast a side look as he sat down, and her hand strained against the wood of her pencil.

"You think he was dealing drugs or something?" Ann looked to the other side of the room and had half a mind to hurl her textbook at a familiar spot of childish, twin tail braided hair not at all subtly gossiping to a neatly combed and cared for frill of black hair next to her, looking like she was about to fall out of her chair due to how much she was leaning.

Ann hoped she did.

"Yeah, probably to help deal with whatever he caught from Takamaki." Her hands nearly balled up the doodle filled paper she was pretending to write notes on but managed to stop at just snapping the lead of her pencil. Twin tail did her best to hide a laugh, but it came out as an ugly snort that caught in the back of her throat. Ann thinks to look to Kawakami to see if she would stop any of this but disregarded the idea the second she considered it. She knew that the woman would just have her eyes focused on her desk, doing her best to act like she wasn't trying to fall asleep.

None of the teachers here cared. None of the idiot students here cared. Why would it be any different now?

Twin tail looked ready to say something else, but her eyes flicked to Ann, then she snapped her back straight up in her chair so fast that Ann swore she heard bone snap. Her friend looked confused for a moment, looking towards Ann's direction before just as quickly looking back down at her notebooks. Equally as confused, Ann stared at them as they cast quick glances back to her side of the room. They weren't looking at her, cause even if they caught Ann looking at them it wouldn't have made them stop. She knew this from experience. The most they would do is just snigger. Hearing a terse breath come from behind her, Ann twisted her neck slightly to look at the source.

Kurokuya Kouzai was rubbing his temples, his eyes tightly closed. Ann heard him tapping his pen against his notebooks in an increasingly frustrated pace. He opened them again, his own pitch-black eyes glaring in the direction of the gossiping morons, before snapping to Ann's own bright blue eyes.

Ann turned her head forward so sharply that a muscle in her neck twinged at the sudden motion. The shot of pain she felt was quickly replaced by her stomach tightening in frustration. Kouzai's words from yesterday spring to mind. They cause Ann's eyes to sharpen into an agitated scowl.

'Just drop it.' At hearing the bell ring for lunch, and not noticing the pained wince come from behind her, Ann darts out of the class before anyone else, slamming the door in the twin tailed girl's face right when she got to it. 'As if you even want to help me for my sake.' It had been something she'd dealt with before. Guys coming up to her, being all friendly, telling her how sorry they felt for all the rumors about her. Didn't stop them from buying them hook, line, and sinker, and acting like she owed them for being so caring enough to talk to the school slut.

Ann felt her eyes sting, her vision beginning to blur. She blinked them away with practiced ease.

Right when she turned a corner to the stairs, she bumped into someone, barely catching herself on the rail. She was about tell them off, her well-worn wall she put up having been tested enough lately, but the unnaturally cheerful voice that beat her to the punch causes her to freeze, her throat clamping up so much that it felt impossible to breath, the hands clasping her arms to stop her from falling over making her muscles feel like lead.

"Woah there, Takamaki." Kamoshida's trademark shit eating grin was in place, and his fingers brushed over her bare forearms. It made the former tightness in her stomach twist into nausea, and it took all her willpower not to let go of its contents. "Why the rush?" Ann takes a moment to compose herself, and the seconds under his gaze feel like years.

"Oh, you know, just getting to class." She does her best to inject some levity to what she said, adding a slight embarrassed chuckle at the end.

"Well look at you, being a good student." Thankfully, despite her trembling voice, it seemed to work well enough. "But, uh," or not, as Kamoshida looked down, and she caught him ogling her legs. She was hating her usual red tights more with each passing day. "You're kind of forgetting something." She gaped for a moment, before looking down and noticing she wasn't even holding any of her schoolbooks or bag. "Also, it's break time."

'Fuck.' That meant she was stuck here. With him. She didn't feel safe even with all the other students in the hall, as they didn't pay any attention to the 'Western gal' chatting it up with her teacher. It was suffocating; she was surrounded by people, yet she felt nothing but isolated.

"I hope you aren't working too hard now, are we?" Kamoshida closed his eyes and shook his head, bringing his hands to rest on his hip, acting the concerned teacher. "I know you part time as a model and all, but don't go working a pretty little thing like yourself to the bone." His eyes suddenly shot open, and he snapped one of his fingers. The action made Ann flinch on instinct. "That reminds me, you said that you weren't feeling all that well. Something about appendicitis?" Kamoshida's eyebrow cocked up, and Ann knew that whatever answer she gave him wouldn't be enough.

"Y-yeah. I keep meaning to go to the hospital, but I've just been so busy lately." There was a long quiet that hung over the two of them after saying that, whatever straggling students still in the hall whispering into their friends' ear at the sight. Ann doesn't need to hear them to know what they're saying. She felt her neck begin to seize up, a cold sweat accompanying the knotting muscles. Eventually, Kamoshida let out a small chuckle.

"Man, I feel bad for you."

'Oh, go fuck yourself.' Ann feels her hands ball up at her sides, and resists the temptation to wipe that smug look of the bastard's face.

"It must get pretty lonely, working yourself so hard. Why, I feel pretty bad, keeping your only friend so late for practice." Whatever rebellious thoughts Ann had died and decomposed in the gutter at the mention of the one person who was worth a damn in this entire school. "Well, what can you do? Volleyball is the only thing she excels at after all. Then again," Kamoshida's face twisted, and Ann's heart sank to her stomach at the familiar leering gaze, "I could bench her from the front position. Maybe that would help you... loosen up a bit?" Kamoshida's eyes are sharp, and his plastic smile looks as if it's trying to split his face in half.

Ann feels her entire body shaking. She doesn't know what to do. Even with the few people still around to see this, it didn't do anything to alleviate how trapped she felt. How trapped she was every time she set foot in this hellhole. She brings her arms up to her chest, clutching the rim of her sweater. For a barely perceptible second, she considers just finally giving in to make it all stop.

"Excuse me." A firm voice rips her from that line of thought, and her head whips around, her own twin tails catching in her eyes. Kurokuya stands at the top of the stairwell, his dark brown bangs crisscrossing over his face, casting shadows over his black eyes, boring into the scene before him. Whatever whispers were being said by the students left in the hall die out, and the sudden stillness in the air gives Ann a feeling similar to whiplash.

"What do you want, kid?" Kamoshida's words are crisp, and she can feel him cross his arms over his chest. Kurokuya lifts up an arm, Ann recognizing her school items that were held in its grasp.

"Takamaki-san forgot her books. I'm here to give them back." His voice holds no emotion in it. He sounds as if he's stating fact, like he's reading information from a textbook.

"Good for you. But in case you didn't notice, we were talking. I'll take those off your hands so we can continue in my office." Ann's back shivers at how restrained Kamoshida was making himself sound, and she wishes that all of this was just some bad dream she had yet to wake up from. A dream that she'd been having since the year started.

"No." Ann blinks awake. Kamoshida blinks. They both stand there, not believing what they heard. Ann recalls the episode in the parking lot, on Kurokuya's first day here. He said the exact same thing, in the same tone of voice even. It wasn't loud, but it was solid. Like an order a superior gave to a subordinate.

"No?" If Kamoshida's was restrained before, he was bordering on outright murderous now. "I don't think you can-"

"No." Kurokuya intones, and both Ann and Kamoshida straighten up at the sudden power in his voice. The entire hall goes quiet. He barely rose it, but the way he was looking down at the both of them, his black eyes glaring into Kamoshida, as if he was analyzing an insect pinned to a board, was such a stark contrast to how he usually looked and sounded. This wasn't the apathetic creep Ann assumed him to be, this was...

This was someone else entirely.

"What's going on here?" Ann actually jumps in surprise at the sudden intrusion. Kawakami comes out from the corner leading to her classroom, the poorly concealed bags under her eyes giving a perplexed and tired glance over the display in front of her.

"I came to give Takamaki-san her books, like you asked, and saw Kamoshida-sensei was just finished talking to her." The previous... version, Ann decided, of Kurokuya dissipated away like a shed skin, his voice returning to its emotionless monotone. His eyes flicked to hers, and the black orbs no longer had any malice in them whatsoever. It took her a second, but she quickly picked up at what he was trying to do.

"Y-yeah. He was just asking if I was okay since I looked so tired because of my busy schedule." The words fumble so quickly from her mouth that even she barely knows what's she's actually saying. She scratches the back of her head to add to the scatterbrained image she was trying to portray, desperate that it would work. Kawakami gives her an odd look, before rubbing her eyes and letting out a sigh. Ann couldn't stop her eyes from narrowing at the sight.

Next to her, Kamoshida brought his hands up surrendering motion. "Guilty as charged." Ann nearly rips out a chunk of her hair at the choice words. He gestures towards Kurokuya. "And hey, so nice of you to do that for your fellow classmate." He doesn't acknowledge the comment, simply walking down the stairs, holding out his arm for Ann to take her school stuff. She did so, not even registering that she was doing it. She followed him as he continued down the steps, numb to everything around her. As she did, she heard a slight rattling sound coming from Kurokuya's bag.

Kamoshida's arm shot out, grabbing Kurokuya's. Ann saw his shoulders tense up and heard Kawakami let out a weak protest from behind them. She entertained the idea of him actually striking back. He didn't, instead slowly turning his head to face Kamoshida. Actually, to look down at him. Ann idly noticed that, with the two of them sharing the same step, Kurokuya was noticeably taller than the muscular gym teacher.

"What's that you've got in your bag?" He attempts to force his arm up, but it stays rooted to his side, not even budging an inch. Kamoshida's face twists in poorly concealed anger, and Kurokuya simply gives him a blank look. For once, Ann found the sight reassuring, even kind of funny. As if he was saying 'Seriously?' Eventually, he brings his other hand to his bag's zipper, opening it and shuffling through its contents, bringing out a pill bottle. Ann can hear a few stifled gasps from the few idiots that were still watching this whole charade.

"It's Imitrex. For migraines." He shakes the bottle, as if to emphasize how harmless it is. "I left a note with Kawakami-sensei. You're more than welcome to check with her."

"I have it on my desk, Kamoshida-sensei." Kawakami drooled out. "His guardian even called in and told me he might be sick."

Ann saw Kurokuya's eyes sharpen. "Sorry to disappoint."

Everyone did a double take at that. Ann, for her part, just wished this would end already. What the hell did this guy think he was doing, antagonizing Kamoshida like this? Did he think he was helping? Her heart was beating so fast that she felt that it would give out under the strain, and her sweat was making her clothes stick to her skin.

"Really?" He snatches the bottle from Kurokuya's grasp, his eyes widening at the action. "Still, bringing a bottle of random pills to a school is pretty irresponsible. Don't you agree, Kawakami?" Kamoshida waves the bottle in front of Kurokuya's face, as if it was bait for a fish. His empty hand balls into a fist, and Ann honestly believes that he's going to punch that ever present, smug grin off this prick's face. Kawakami looks dumbfounded for a moment, before her face shifts to usual tired visage, looking annoyed at being put on the spot. It may have been her paranoia speaking, but Ann couldn't help but think that Kamoshida did it on purpose. The woman let out another of her heavy sighs before leveling a pleading look to Kurokuya.

"Look, I'll talk to Kamoshida-sensei about this. You'll at least get them back at the end of the day. Is that all right?" Ann can't help but scoff.

'Of course she'd take his side.' She catches Kawakami giving her a look, but Ann ignores it in favor of turning her attention back to Kurokuya and seeing how he'd react. And for once, Ann thought she caught the faintest hint of a glare on his statue of a face. He was as still as ever, not even looking like he was breathing. Eventually, he just puts his empty hand in his blazer pocket and continues down the stairs, wrenching his arm from Kamoshida's grasp as he went. The action nearly made him lose his balance on the stairs, and Ann felt the small impulse to push him down and finally end this nightmare.

"Kouzai-san." Kawakami makes to go after him, but Kamoshida puts a hand up to stop her as he straightens himself up.

"Don't worry about someone like him." She doesn't know why, but Ann can't help but feel her chest twist at the phrase 'someone like him.' Even if it was directed at Kurokuya. Kamoshida then stares into Ann's eyes, and all the trepidation that she didn't notice had gone away with Kurokuya's presence had returned in full force. "I'll talk with you in my office about this," he shook the bottle of meds, and Kawakami shakes her head as she walks down the hall.

They're alone again. Ann can't stop herself from wilting.

"Look at you, being popular with the new kid." He walked up the stairs, leaning to her ear as he brushed past her. "Didn't know guys like that were your type." His breath invaded her nose, and it traveled against the skin of her neck.

Ann's throat dries up, and her stomach might as well have been a black hole from it feeling like it was collapsing in on itself. Her legs shake, and every part of her just wants to collapse. She puts a hand on the rail, holding it like her life depended on it, and slowly walks down the stairs. As she gets onto the landing that leads to the first floor, she stops at the top of the last set of stairs.

Kurokuya Kouzai was at the bottom of the steps, looking where Ann was standing. They stare at one another for what felt like hours to Ann, and all the while she's stuck looking at the boy's frustratingly impassive visage. All earlier signs of... she supposed anger were gone, and all it did now was replace her previous dread with rising exasperation. She forced herself down the stairs and made to push past her latest problem, but he deftly moved out of the way before they made contact. Ann nearly tripped over herself at the sudden movement, but remained upright, looking Kurokuya straight in his empty black eyes and giving him her best glare.

"Go away." Her voice is shaky, and she can tell that she's on the verge of breaking down. Kurokuya doesn't react, and a few seconds pass before he speaks up.

"Are you alright?" A cold chill ran through Ann's entire body before it morphed into a hot fury, and she only recognizes that she slapped him after her hand starts to sear from the pain of hitting his incredibly solid cheekbone. She hisses and looks at her hand, bringing it to her chest and rubbing her wrist, feeling like she might have sprained something. She looks back to Kurokuya, and the only thing that had changed on his face were his slightly open mouth and barely widened eyes.

She runs down the hall, ignoring all of the quiet jeers and faint accusations of the vapid crowds she pushes past. She eventually makes her way to a secluded part of the interconnected halls that cut through the small courtyards of the school, a hole in the wall area that had a single bench with peeling paint, a dirty table, and a busted vending machine. She throws herself onto the bench, cradling her throbbing wrist, doing her best not to hyperventilate.

'Why did I do that?' Her vision begins to blur, and her breath comes out in shuddering hiccups. 'What the hell is he even trying to do?' Her chest rises and falls in a quick tempo, and she brings her arms up to cover her eyes, leaning back on the bent plastic of the bench seat. She whimpers out an exhausted breath, one after another, and does her best not to cry outright. 'I don't know how much more of this I can take.'

"Ann?" All of her worries immediately fade at hearing the familiar voice. She brings her arms down and looks to her only friend, and the concern on her face makes her forget about everything for a brief moment.

"Hey, Shiho." Ann voice hitches in her throat, and she wipes at her eyes, hugging her arms tight around her body as she looks to the only person that gave actually gave a damn about her in this place. Her face is wide with worry, and her brown eyes have a dark shadow clinging to them.

"What's wrong?" She comes and sits next to her, their legs almost touching. Ann casts a quick glance to the brace on Shiho's left knee. She didn't have it yesterday.

"It's noth-" Ann stops midway, her mouth forming a thin line and her throat clinching up. She eventually lets out a heavy breath and leans forward, resting her head against her hands. Her wrist flares up at the pressure, and she lets out a slight hiss. "Just a rough day is all." She barely hears herself as she rubs the offending hand.

"...Okay." Ann's back clenches at Shiho's quiet tone, and wonders what happened to the days when the two of the would actually talk to each other went. "What happened to your hand?" Ann brings it out to look at it, and her eyes widen a bit at the reddening skin and slightly swollen wrist.

"I slapped someone." She lets out a humorless chuckle at Shiho's gaping face. "The new guy everyone is talking about."

"Why?" Ann smiles, genuinely, at some of Shiho's previous fire returning for a brief moment in her voice.

"He just..." She struggles for a way to explain why, only to find that she couldn't find an answer that satisfied her. "I don't know. Just caught me at a bad time is all." Regret fills the pit in her stomach.

"You don't say." A laugh manages to find its way out of Ann at the slight jab, and her heart soars at hearing Shiho's bluntness rearing itself after what felt like decades without it. She joins her, and the two forget about everything for a small time. When they stop, the quiet that hung over every one of their interactions lately came back in full force.

Ann hated every second of it. She looked to her friend in order to find something to cling onto, but Shiho's face had already morphed into a detached, glazed over look. She wasn't focusing on anything, and her eyes were downcast, half-lidded. Ann looked down to the brace on her knee.

"How did that happen?" Shiho looks as if she's been shocked, and looks down to the item in question. Her face creases at the sight, and her hands bundle up the hem of her shirt.

"It's from practice. I just slipped because of my form." Her words are distant, and she doesn't look at Ann when answering.

"Maybe you should be taking it easy for a bit."

"No." The word rushes out of Shiho's mouth a bit too fast, and Ann flinches back slightly at the suddenness in her friend's voice. "Volleyball's the only thing I'm good at. I can't slack off just because I screw up a few times." Ann winces at the reminder of what Kamoshida said earlier, and she hates that fact that even when she's with Shiho that bastard always manages to come up in some way.

Ann looks away from her, focusing on a busted floor tile like it held the answers to her problems. As the bell signaling the end of lunch burst out, and receiving no droplets of wisdom, she sighed and watched Shiho get up from beside her. "Well, I'll see you later then." Shiho doesn't sound like she's talking to Ann so much as she's just saying what people need to when departing.

"Yeah, see you." Ann is no different, and she watches her friend get further and further away from her with each step.

Ann stays in the little hovel she ran to and wishes that she could just stay there. That no one would notice she wasn't in class. Then she started wishing that people would notice her, just in a way that actually meant something than what she'd been dealing with her whole life.

'And I probably just shot something like that down.' She leans back on the bench, her head hitting the cold window that left a view of the lightly drenched courtyard. Her thoughts shift to Kurokuya, and the pit in her stomach increases in intensity.

From day one, he had been trying to help her out. Sure, he had been really damn awkward about it, but the fact remains that he had been putting his neck out for her before he even knew what her name was. 'And that's not even getting into the rumors about him.' She ponders for a moment about all of the bullcrap surrounding him. She can't help but think that he definitely looks like the kind of guy who would assault someone, but by that logic she would be the kind of person everyone thought she was based on her looks alone.

Letting out a heavy sigh she got up and trudged her way to class. 'I don't know anymore.' Right now, all Ann hoped was that she would be able to make it through the rest of the day.

Then she remembered that she had Social Sciences with Ushimaru next.

Her shoulders slumped as she let out a deeply pained groan. 'Nope. Definitely not going to make it.'

4/12 Midday

As I felt Ann leave from her little alcove and head towards class, I had to resist the urge to hit my head against the nearest wall hard enough to leave a dent. I deserved it, as far as I'm concerned.

'What the hell was I thinking?' Antagonizing Kamoshida the way I was wouldn't do Takamaki-san any favors. If anything, all I was doing was making things worse. While I needed to get her out of that situation, there were far better ways to do it than to anger the man who wants to rape her.

I bring my left hand out in front of me. The slap I had gotten from her hadn't done anything to actually hurt me, but the brief contact still felt like a sharp needle piercing my skin. Even so, I'd already healed from the shock of pain. I stepped off the wall of the secluded hall I was leaning against and took a deep breath, preparing myself.

I brought my hand up, exhaled, and the hall echoed with the sound of skin striking hard against skin. My cheek exploded in stinging waves, and I knew that it was going to bruise throughout the day before healing just as quickly. I took some terse breaths through my nose, and I hoped I didn't slap hard enough to cause it to start bleeding. Thankfully, that wasn't the case, and I shook away the pain as I walked up the stairs to my next class.

However, when I turned to the stairs leading onto the second floor, I sensed someone hiding behind the corner, tensing up. My eyes narrowed, and I slowly went up the steps, reading any small movement of muscles on the individual. They were my age, and I could feel the familiar fabric of the school uniform on them, so what were they doing?

As I neared the top, I felt the boy twist his feet to the corner, getting ready to spring out, likely hoping to intercept me at the top. I stopped at just the right time, and a splotch of bleached, yellow hair rushed out, missing me by mere inches. The boy let out a yelp as he sprawled out onto the floor, and the first thing about him that registered with me was the bright yellow shirt contrasting against his black student blazer, the letters ZOMG written underneath a purple and black star. He rubbed the back of his head, hissing between his teeth as he opened an eye to look up at me. I stared down at him, my face not betraying any confusion I was rightly feeling at the display.

"Damn it, how'd I miss?" I felt something click in the back of my mind when I heard his voice. This was the boy I saw when I went into Kamoshida's car...

"What're you two doing out of class?" An irate voice rips me from my musings, and I turn to see a bespectacled older man looking out of his classroom door.

"Relax, the second bell hasn't even rung yet." The boy grumbled out as he brought himself up from the floor. The second he did so, the reminder bell rang out through the halls, his face instantly falling. Had I not again been surprised by the shrill sound of the electronic noise ripping my eardrums apart, I would have found the scene comical.

"You were saying, Sakamoto?" The teacher said the name with obvious contempt laced with his condescension.

"I was on my way when I accidentally bumped into this guy." He jabbed a thumb in my direction, and I had to raise an eyebrow at his choice of words.

"Accidentally?" He looked to me, a pleading look to his eyes.

"Yeah. Accidentally." The way he sounded unsure of himself didn't do anything to convince the teacher or myself. Particularly me. "Anyways, yeah." He waved off whatever the teacher was about to say next, turning towards me and resting a hand on my shoulder. It seized up from the contact. "Sorry 'bout running into you there." He brought his other hand to hit my side, and before I had the chance to stop him, I felt something getting shoved into my pocket. "See ya later." He turned away and went down the hall, waving back to me as I was left standing in confusion.

"Kouzai!" My head snaps towards the now livid teacher. "In class, now!" I move towards the room on autopilot, barely noticing the sound of crumpling paper in my pocket.

"Already tardy on his second day." I heard the man grumble under his breath as I sat at my desk, and I couldn't help the rise of irritation at being held back due to that episode. I felt the slip of paper crumple even further in my pocket as I got my workbooks ready. Casting a quick glance at the balding teacher readying his lesson, whose nameplate on his desk read 'Ushimaru,' I grabbed the slip and set it down on an open page of my book, unfolding it.

SERIOUSLY, MEET ME ON THE ROOF THIS TIME!

I turn the page, hiding the familiar, madly scrawled kanji from sight. So, he was the one who wrote that note. His words from yesterday spring to mind.

"Screw that pervy teacher!"

'So he's aware of Kamoshida's true nature as well.' I look in front of me, and the four leafed clover on Takamaki-san's hood greeted me. I couldn't help but think that the symbol was misplaced. 'Do the two of them know each other?' Likely, considering this was their second year and the boy's clear concern for her wellbeing.

"Kouzai!" I look to the front of the room, and Ushimaru-sensei's furrowed gaze is focused solely on me. "Seeing as how you think you don't need to be on time, let's see if it's justified." My eyes narrow at the barb. "The Greek philosopher Plato divided the human soul into three parts. Two of these attributes are appetite and spirit. Can you tell me what the third is?"

"Logic." The answer comes as naturally as breathing. Ushimaru blinks at the immediacy, and everyone in class turns to look at me, their eyes wide and mouths ajar. "Drawing on the teachings of Socrates, Plato described the soul as what drives a human being in their life and how we behave, even into death. Appetite dictates our desires, spirit dictates our emotions, and logic dictates how we control the former two."

The classroom is quiet after my answer. I look around, wondering why that would be the case. What I said was the answer, what was so strange about it?

"Correct." Ushimaru eventually speaks up, and even he sounds unsure that he heard me correctly. He levels a quirked eyebrow my direction. "So, you knew that, huh?" Again, what was so surprising about it? "Socrates also taught Plato that evil is born from ignorance." His eyes sharpened as he looked at me. "People who have been babied, taught that evil is due to individuality, can only become society's scum." He turns away and begins to write on the chalkboard, and I'm left glaring at the back of his head, ignoring the classroom's sniggers at the not at all subtle jab.

I tune the rest of his lecture out, only idly writing notes here and there. Looking out the window, there's still a grey overcast from this morning, and I can smell the dew and precipitation in the air easily through the concrete walls and fogged up windows.

'Evil is born from ignorance, is it?' Were the human traffickers I stopped truly ignorant of their actions? The gun dealers? Kamoshida? I doubted that if I were to explain in great detail the ramifications of what they were doing and how it affected their victims that they would change their ways and repent. And even then, I found it hard to believe that they didn't know that they were doing was wrong on some level.

They just didn't care. Their own wants surpassed those of the people they hurt. Every criminal believed their actions to be justified on some level, even if they had the compassion and self-awareness to know that what they were doing was illegal and caused harm to others.

'Besides,' I look to Ushimaru, and he is pointedly ignoring me as I stare at his back, 'ignorance is a sin only committed by the innocent.' I scanned the faces of my fellow students, all of them talking with each other over Ushimaru's lesson.

"I saw Takamaki slap the new guy earlier in the hall. It was crazy!"

"What she'd do that for?"

"Maybe he skimped her on their last meet up in a hotel."

My eyes narrow, and my pen breaks into tiny pieces as I let out a slow breath through my nose.

If there was one thing Socrates never considered, it's how pointlessly cruel people can be to each other. 'After all, he only ever admitted to knowing nothing'

4/12 Afternoon

School ends, and I remember to prepare myself for that damn bell this time when it goes off. As everyone packs up their belongings, Ann and I get up from our chairs at the same time, causing the both of us to look in each other's eye. We stand there, an awkward pause forming between us. Her mouth tightens and she shifts in place, but she eventually shakes her head and leaves. As she walks away, I notice the red forming around her wrist, and a stab of guilt goes through my chest at the sight.

Interacting with people has never been my strong suit, but driving someone to slap me because of my poor social skills was a low that I didn't even think was possible. And considering Ann's situation, it made my lack of understanding all the worse. I bring my hand up rub at the spot where she slapped me, but stopped midway, remembering that I had doused that hand in ink after my pen broke.

I quickly went to a washroom and rectified that, and as I scrubbed my hands, I cast my senses out over the school, focusing on the roof in particular.

Tap-tap-tap-tap – A shoe hitting the concrete in an impatient tempo.

"Damnit, where is he?"

The boy from earlier, Sakamoto, is alone, and there isn't anyone else walking towards his location. I dried my hands and went up the stairs to meet him, keeping my senses focused around me to make sure I wouldn't be followed.

"Look, today just isn't going to work for me. I've got a photoshoot to get to." Takamaki's voice is tense, trembling, and tired.

I stop in the middle of the stairs leading to the roof, my back going rigid.

"You've been getting more and more of those lately, huh?" Kamoshida's voice comes as an electric drawl from the phone and an irritated drone from his car in the parking lot. "Good to see you're keeping busy."

My hands tighten in pocket and against the straps of my school bag, threatening to split them from the pressure.

"I can't help it when they decide to have a shot next." Takamaki-san's words gain an edge, and her throat constricts when she realizes it did so.

"... Whatever you say, Takamaki." A click and keys turn, a worn engine spinning against chipped metal. A whimper echoes in the halls.

Several hard breaths come through my nose, and my entire body is shaking. I have to resist the ever-increasing urge to just forgo any care for secrecy and smash Kamoshida's car into the pavement right here, right now, but I manage to calm myself down enough that the only evidence of my anger is the crumpling of the doorknob to the roof when I push it open.

"Finally. What took you so long?" I see Sakamoto leaning against the far wall, a pile of unused desks and chairs to his left. He kicks off the wall and walks towards me, hands in his pockets and hunched over. "Why'd you leave me hanging yesterday?" I take it he's referring to the note he left in my shoe locker.

"Why would I follow the instructions of a note I have no idea who wrote?" Not to mention looking like it was written by a madman.

"Dude, I put my name on it."

"…. No. You didn't." A puzzled look crossed his face.

"I did... didn't I?" The last part it seemed as if he was asking himself, looking down in thought and scratching the back of his head. Then his eyes bulged in realization. "Ah crap, I didn't!"

I felt my irritation rise. I had more important things to deal with at the moment, and I didn't appreciate my time being occupied by a forgetful teenager. "What do you want?" I let some of my frustration slip into my voice, and his previous embarrassment was replaced with a guarded confusion. He looked ready to retort, but instead he put his hands back in his pockets and leveled a strong look my way.

"What's the deal with you and Kamoshida?" My posture straightens out, and I can feel my breath come and go in even intervals. "I saw you get into his car with Takamaki the other day. What was that about?" His eyes are hard, and his voice is even, despite the fact I could tell he was tense all over his body.

"He offered me a ride to school. I took it." Not a lie, and not the whole truth.

"That's it? He didn't do anything," he stopped for a moment, his mouth fumbling, "weird?"

I narrowed my eyes at his word choice. While it may be a risk, considering I don't know how much this Sakamoto knows about Kamoshida, chances are he was at least somewhat aware of his true nature given his comment from my first day. "I didn't feel comfortable leaving Takamaki-san alone with him, if that's what you mean." His eyes practically lit up at that.

"So you noticed how much of a creep he is too!" He waved a hand around as he said it, and I could notice a bit of relief as he spoke.

"You have a history with him?" It would make sense. No one else at this school seemed to see Kamoshida for what he really was, so for this one to see it meant that he likely had experience with the man. Given how his face went taught with anger, I guessed correctly.

"You could say that." He looked away from me, closing his eyes and turning to his side to hide his frustration. As he did, I heard bones in his knee creaking in a distinct manner, and further inspection showed damage from a tibial plateau fracture. It was fully healed, but the damage from it was permanent from what I could tell, not helped by a seeming lack of use.

I felt the back of my head tense up, and my earlier temptation to find Kamoshida rose more and more by the second.

"Anyways," I was brought away from that line of thought, "if you could tell how much he was perving on Ann, chances are you've heard some of the other rumors about him. How he and Ann are... together." He awkwardly fumbled the words, clearly uncomfortable having to say them.

"Unfortunately." I quirked an eye towards him. "Do you and Takamaki-san know each other?"

"We went to middle school together. We were... kind of friends, I guess?" He shook his head. "That's not important. But yeah, I know her enough that Ann isn't the kind of person to do something like that."

I stood still, mulling over everything he was saying. It wasn't anything I already didn't know, but given his own testimony, it only confirmed that Kamoshida was a problem that needed to be taken care of, promptly.

"Why did you ask me here?" Sakamoto's eyes focused on me, and I had to admit that his determined expression was admirable.

"I wanna expose that son of a bitch." His voice is terse and barely controlled. "Being a creepy prick ain't his only problem. You see the guys that do volleyball around here?"

My thoughts go to the boy in my class. His gym clothes are worn, reeking of dried sweat, and his heavily bruised face looks at me in shame. "Yes." My answer is clipped, and it comes out in a low snarl.

"He's the one doing that to 'em. Trust me, I've dealt with that guy's bullshit 'practices,'" he puts emphasis on the word, mocking it, "and it's just an excuse for him beat down on us. Stroke his damn ego." His hands are shaking in his pockets, and his eyes are narrowed into a harsh glare.

"I see." I turn away and open the door. "Thank you for telling me this."

"Wait, so, you've already got a plan?"

'Yes. I do. And I'm two days late in following it.'

"That's awesome, 'cause I've got my own!" Huh? I turn to look back at him, and he doesn't wait for me to question him on what his plan is. "There's a rally for the volleyball team tomorrow. All the teachers are gonna be busy with it, so there'll be no afternoon classes. It gives us a chance to ask around, get evidence and stuff against Kamoshida!" He rushes out the details, and his demeanor changed from angry to energized at the drop of a hat.

"You think that would work?" I couldn't help the apprehension that made its way into the question. If what Sakamoto was saying was true and that Kamoshida had a history of abusing his students, the fact that he was still here at Shujin didn't reflect favorably on the staff's ability to act on such information.

"If we get enough people to fess up, then yeah!" Sakamoto made a fist and brought it in front of him. "There's no effin' way the teachers and principal don't know what's going on. With enough confessions, maybe even some hard evidence and the police," my fist clenched the doorknob tighter, "they'll be forced to do something." He paused to take a quick breath. "At least, I hope." I managed to stifle the scoff that threatened to escape. So, he shared my disillusionment with the police. He seemed to notice something on my face though, as his expression deflated. "Come on dude, it ain't the best plan in the world, but we can't just do nothing."

…. A sigh managed to escape me this time. While I had my doubts, it was at least worth considering. "I'll meet with you tomorrow morning. We'll coordinate then." At that, Sakamoto's eyes widened in surprise, before his face shifted to a grin that reached his ears.

"Hell yeah man! We'll take down that shitty bastard!" He put his hand in front of me. "I'm Ryuji Sakamoto, by the way."

I stood there, looking at the appendage. I slowly reached out with my own hand, my palm registering the many callouses and rough skin. "Kurokuya Kouzai. It's nice to meet you, Sakamoto-san." He laughed and waved his other hand as we shook.

"Dude, just Ryuji is fine. And yeah, I already know who you are." I cocked an eyebrow up at that, and Sakamoto-san's next words were practically laced with derision. "You can thank the rumor mill of this place for that." With that statement, I remembered what Kobayakawa said to Kawakami when I met with them. About how he wanted me to be kept away from 'that Sakamoto,' lest we cause trouble.

"Hm," was all I offered as a reply. It was to be expected, given the rising volume of rumors surrounding me.

"Yeah, I can relate." He patted a hand on my shoulder and walked past me. I ignored the rush of stimulus and closed the door behind us as I followed him out the school. "Some of the stuff they say is so out there, though. Like, I've herd ones where you're either a yakuza enforcer, or that you used to be a former supervillain that fled from America."

…. "Well, I can't fault them on their creativity." That got a laugh out of Sakamoto-san.

"Least you seem to be taking it well. Not like I did at first." I looked to him after he said that, and his face had faulted somewhat. We eventually exit the main building, stopping in front of Shujin's gates. "So," Sakamoto-san turns to me, "tomorrow, we'll get together, ask around, and find something to pin to that bastard." His face is set in a determined grin, joviality mixing with confidence. "There's this nice beef bowl place I know. Want to head there and iron out the details?"

"No." I rush the answer out on instinct, and Sakamoto-san blinks at the suddenness of it. "Sorry, but I have to get back..." my throat clenches for a moment, "home." It didn't feel right. Calling Leblanc my 'home.'

"Ah, crap, that's right. You're on probation, after all." Sakamoto-san thankfully picked up on the reasoning I was going for, despite it not being the actual reason I wanted to leave as soon as possible. "Well, another time then." He turned and headed down the stairs leading up to the school, waving back at me. "See ya soon, bud." My mouth was left hanging, and I almost forgot to return the farewell.

"G-goodbye." Why did he call me 'bud?' We had only had one conversation, and talking about taking down an abusive and predatory teacher wasn't something that 'buddies' talked about. Letting out a sigh and shaking my head, I went down the steps myself and trekked back to the café.

'No matter. And despite Sakamoto-san's plan, I have a more direct one that I'm going to follow.' It's wasn't that I didn't agree with the validity of his plan of action, and I was going to help him with it tomorrow. If anything, after I was done with Kamoshida, it would only help in the efforts to keep him behind bars and stop him from hurting anyone else. It's just that I had more faith in my method having more traction and staying power, given the Tokyo police's history with lackluster responses to domestic crimes.

I felt my skin heat up, and I could hear a voice I knew to be a memory in the back of my mind in conjunction with Sakamoto's own assertions about needing to get the police involved despite his claims that the staff had to know about Kamoshida's abuses flash in my ears. How unsure he sounded.

"Don't waste our time with meaningless stuff like this."

I took a calming breath as I entered the train station, the feelings of confusion and rage from that time six years ago coming to the surface as if I were feeling them for the first time.

I didn't bother telling myself that nothing could be done about it now. It was a false assurance. 'Something should have been done about it in the first place.' I gripped the upper handle of the train car I stepped on tightly, and I could hear the metal twisting in my grip. I took a few more calming breaths as other passengers got onto the car.

'That's why I'm doing this. So that people who need help actually get it.' I filed through all of the new issues I encountered in my short time since coming Shujin. 'The human traffickers. The gun dealers. Kamoshida.' I was aware of them. I was acting in order to stop them where the police were failing to do so. I was helping people who weren't being helped.

…. I don't know why, but as the train car doors closed, I couldn't help but have the distinct feeling that I was forgetting something in that list. 'The dealers, the traffickers, Kamoshida... that sounds like everything.' The train started moving. 'Probably nothing important then.'

4/12 Afternoon

My pencil went deftly over the school assignment, filling in answers and equations with a practiced ease as I heard the clock tick-tick-tick over the still and unmoving library doors.

If there was one aspect about myself that I've always been proud of, it would be stoic demeanor. Even in the more heated moments of being Student Council President, balancing budgets and organizing the various events of the school, I always maintained a professional calmness that allowed me to see solutions when others didn't.

But sitting here, listening to that damn clock, glancing at the still unopened doors, was seriously beginning to test my patience. My pencil pushed against the paper more sharply, and I could feel the smile on my face becoming more strained by the second.

Tick-tick-tick- Shut the hell up, clock.

Finishing my last assignment, I closed my books in a controlled and collected manner, not at all slamming them or being too harsh with the zipper of my binders and school bag. Getting up from my usual table, I walked, not stomped, with grace towards the door and gripped the handle.

'Okay then, Kouzai.' Opening the door and gently closing it, not at all pushing the thing with more force than necessary, I walked down the halls and began my way back home. 'I'm done waiting on you. I do hope you're ready to make up for all the time I've wasted.'

4/12 Early Evening

As I neared the streets of Yongen-jaya, I felt a shiver go down my spine. Strange, seeing as how it wasn't that cold out for even my enhanced senses.

Ignoring that, I looked around the area as I entered an alleyway, then jumped against the walls and landed on the roof of the building where I left my duffel bag. Unhooking it from the AC unit, I jumped down and made my way back to Leblanc.

A trepidation filled my chest as I neared the café. Despite our conversation this morning, I wasn't looking forward to having to interact with Sakura. He had flitted between the apathetic caretaker to actually concerned to outright apologizing for the way he was treating me in such a short span of time that I had no idea what to make of the man.

As I reached the door to the café though, I noticed that he wasn't inside, only an elderly couple occupying a booth. Odd. I slowly opened the door expecting him to turn from the corner of the kitchen, before mentally slapping myself in the head. I knew he wasn't in the building due to my powers, so there was no reason for me to act like a child caught being up at night. Closing the door, I walked past the bar and-

Drying sauce, sticking to plate. Filth building up, mixing with water.

I stop and look to the kitchen, noting a pile of used plates in the sink, unwashed. I could feel my skin crawl and my nose scrunch up at the hints of eaten food and drying mess.

"Are you looking for Sakura-san?" I turned to face the couple, the woman idly holding her cup of half empty coffee. "He had to step out for a bit. Something came up at home."

I instinctually let my senses spread out, and sure enough I can feel Sakura in his house. He was talking to someone through a-

Piled garbage, half-drunk soda, unwashed clothes, stench clinging to every-

I rip my attention away from his home, and I couldn't suppress the wince that spread on my face. 'What the hell was that?' Even with only a cursory glance, I could tell that room in his home was the definition of unclean.

"Are you alright there, young man?" The older gentleman asks me, and I quickly nod.

"Yes. Thank you. Just a headache." Not the truth, seeing as how my migraine had dissipated entirely throughout the day.

"He does that rather often, doesn't he?" For a moment, I think that the woman is talking about me.

"I suppose. You think he's married?" Her husband answers, and I realize that they're talking about Sakura.

"Oh, definitely not. I knew men like Sakura in my youth, and he has bachelor written all over him."

"Really? You familiar with guys like him?" The woman gave her husband a reproachful glare at that, which earned her a light-hearted chuckle. "What do you think, young man?" He turned to face me. "Boss given you any tips to help with the ladies?" My breath hitches, and I look at the man in confusion.

"Oh, leave him alone dear." She waves placatingly at me, and the man lets out a small laugh at my expense.

"I'm just messing." He finished his cup and deposited some money on the table. "Have a nice evening."

"You to." I manage to stammer out as they leave the shop. I stand in place, not knowing how to process what just happened. 'Tips to help with ladies?' I knew what he was referring to, I just didn't understand why something like that would be applicable. 'Why would anyone be interested in someone like me?'

Shaking my head, I went up the stairs and deposited the duffel bag on my bed, jumping onto the rafters and opening the door to my costume. Grabbing the plastic bags that held it, I grimaced at the perspiration that had built up in them from the rain last night. Getting down and opening them, I set them out on the floor in an attempt to get them to dry up, checking my web shooters to make sure that nothing was damaged. Flicking my finger against them, helping me to get a feel from the light vibrations of the metal and mechanisms, I couldn't sense anything out of place or otherwise inoperable.

Web fluid still holding composition, mechanisms in proper position, not signs of rust or-

Water sludging from sauce, plates collecting dust, bits of uneaten food sliding-

My skin twitched at feeling the mess in the kitchen sink accumulate, and my nose felt like it was going to collapse into itself at being invaded by the aroma of half-eaten food. Throwing my web shooters onto my bed, I changed into a simple pair of plain clothes and went downstairs. Finding some plastic gloves and a spare apron, I went to work at cleaning the mess that was threatening my calm. The gloves did their job well enough to stop the feeling of putting my hands into swilling refuse, and the dish soap, while overwhelming, was better than the alternative. After I finished with them, I had half a mind to continue with the rest of the place, but reminded myself that I had much larger priorities to deal with than my own comfort. I'd only done this as a way to let my outfit dry up.

The door to the café chimed open, and I turned to see Sakura walk in. He looked to me, and his eyebrow quirked up. "You're washing up?"

"Yes. I can't stand messes." I took off the gloves and deposited them into a trash bin, hanging the apron on a hook next to fridge.

"Huh. Thanks." He sounded surprised, and I watched as he walked over to the table that had the couple's payment on it. He grabbed the bill and change, putting the later on the bar next to the register, and held out the bill towards me. I tilted my head, which earned a laugh from Sakura. "Take it. Least I can do for you doing my job for me." He said it with a good-natured smirk on his face.

"I didn't do it for payment."

"That's nice." He kept his hand in front of me. After a few seconds, I relented and took the bill, walking back upstairs. "You might be well meaning kid," I looked back to Sakura in the middle of the stairs, spying him form the corner of my eye, "but don't get into the habit of doing things for free out of the kindness of your heart all the time. People will take advantage of that till you run out." I stood in place, processing the words but not really acknowledging them.

"There's nothing wrong with helping people." I thought back to when we first met. About how he said I was in this situation because I was interfering with the affairs of adults, and how my situation was the punishment for doing so. About how that was the way life was, and that I should just get used to it. My hand clenched around the bill he gave me.

"Nothing wrong with looking out for yourself, either." He grabbed a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it up as he leaned against the shelves. He dipped his head down, taking a long drag and blew out a small cloud of smoke. "Don't expect people to always say thanks, even after doing your best helping them out."

"Then why are you doing this?" He looked at me from the corner of his eyes, an understanding look in them. "For thanks?" Quiet descended upon the café, and the cloud of second-hand smoke dissipated throughout the room. Sakura looked at me with a guarded expression, searching for what to say in response.

"Besides, I was already paid for it."

The words flash to the forefront of my mind, and my entire body thrums in rage at the reminder of them. The paper in my hands is crumpled into a shriveled facsimile of money.

"Hell if I know, kid." Sakura speaks up, and the interruption from my thoughts leaves my mouth hanging. He isn't looking at me, instead hanging his head and taking another drag of his cigarette, a forlorn look to his eyes. I turn and walk up the rest of the steps, ignoring the haze in my head.

I throw the money onto the tabletop, walking over to inspect my costume. Still a little damp, but manageable. I quickly deposit the ensemble into the duffel bag, slinging it over my shoulder and heading back downstairs.

"Heading out again?" I stop halfway in the shop, looking back to Sakura's questioning stare. "What exactly did you do when you left last night?"

"Exercise." A rather... aggressive form of it. Rather more dangerous than the normal version at any rate.

"Exercise that took you the whole night?" I didn't need enhanced senses to know he wasn't convinced.

"Yes. I stop by the bathhouse in order to clean myself off before I come back." I pointed in the direction of the place just outside of Leblanc. Given how often I had stopped there recently, it was a good enough cover.

"'Kay," Sakura scratched his brow in frustration, "like I said before, I don't mind you leaving this place, but after tonight, you come back before I close up." My own frustration was rising every time he spoke next. "You're on thin ice as it is," he levels me with a hard look that I imagine is supposed to look authoritative, "so you can't risk making any mistakes like getting caught late at night."

We stare at one another for a long while, and Sakura can clearly see that what he said had annoyed me. "Noted." I turn and walk out the café, and I can hear him sigh through the walls as I get further away. Taking a detour to the same alley from last night, I jump across the walls again, changing into my costume.

Despite my worries, the slight dampness of the outfit against the afternoon sun created peeking out from the grey clouds had a nice balance of cold and warmth for me, and the adjusting lenses of my mask took off whatever glare I couldn't handle from the low hanging sun, taking a strain off of them that I had grown used to throughout my life. Putting the duffel bag into the same spot as last time, I ran to the side of the roof and shot into the dull grey and purple sky like a bullet. The rushing wind slapped into me like a knife against my body, relishing the impacts against of cooling air and bright sunlight.

'No more distractions.' I stab a hand in the air, firing a web line and dipping my body low, soaring downwards until I bring my lower body up then kick out, soaring through the air. I could hear the exclaimed gasps of the crowds below me, their hands rushing for the phones. This was the earliest I had gone out in a long while, so chances are that the clearest photos of me were about to be taken.

That didn't matter. What mattered now, above all else, was taking care of a problem I had allowed to go on for far too long.

Finally, I had arrived back at Shujin, and the building was as downcast and depressingly colored as usual, thanks in no small part to the clouds completely blotting out any late afternoon lights. A quick scan showed only a smattering of people still in the building, all of them adults. They were focused in the gymnasium, prepping the last touches for tomorrow's rally. Good.

Continuing from where I left off yesterday night, I looked over to the high buildings that were behind the school, the same height as the one I was currently standing on. Standing at full height, I held my arm slightly upwards and hit the trigger of my web shooters, the line going up until falling in an arc. After only a second, the end met purchase on the opposing roof, and I pulled in on it until it was completely taught. Attaching my end to the edge and adding some extra layers to it, I took a careful step. It held, so I fell onto it, hanging from it with my back facing the ground.

Travelling along it until I was hanging over a courtyard, I brought my hands together, bringing the fingers of one hand close to the 'barrel' of my web shooters. Catching a line I fired out, I wrapped it on the line I was crawling on and gave myself some slack. Holding the line in my hands and bringing my feet against it to keep it straight, I slowly descended down to the school, keeping my senses open to make sure I wasn't caught.

Eventually, I reached the building, positioning myself to avoid any cameras that were nearby. Idling up next to a window close to my destination, I rest a hand against the slightly fogged up glass, gently pulling upwards, applying just a small amount of force over time until I felt it go up, breaking the lock. I brought my opposite hand into the building, sticking onto the web with my feet, firing a web onto the camera in the hall.

Finally, I stepped into the school. I took a second to look around, and I couldn't help the feeling of unease that rose in my mind. There was something uncanny about being in a school after hours that I couldn't quite place. Perhaps it was the disconnect of being in a building that was supposed to be occupied by children excitedly talking to each other, being friends and hanging out, a sharp contrast to how it was now with barely lit lights and uncomfortably quiet halls. A dichotomy that just didn't feel right, only made worse by the knowledge of what goes on here during school hours.

Perhaps I just didn't like school. Given past and current experience, it wouldn't be an unreasonable conclusion.

Shaking off any feelings of macabre, I walked to the door in front of me, kneeling down and grabbing the necessary tools from my belt. While I could just force the door open, I didn't want to give Kamoshida any reason to be suspicious and therefore act recklessly, lest someone get hurt because of that. Putting the lockpicks into the keyhole, I was easily able to unlock it, hearing which spring went where and feeling when to move to the next. Twisting it when I got to the last one, I slid the door open and entered Kamoshida's office, not bothering to turn on the light. My eyes easily adjusted to the darkness of the room.

At a first glance, there was nothing out of place in the room. A whiteboard with instructions and game plans, a cluttered desk, a photocopier and a small fridge. Nothing that wouldn't be seen in any other office for a teacher. And like before, knowing what kind of person occupied this room only created a harsh dissonance in my mind. It was normal, and it just made it feel wrong.

Ignoring my unease, I went to his desk and started sorting through any of his files that would hold an address. While I could just use my own power to find Kamoshida's residence, I would need to be around him for an extended period of time in order to get an accurate enough reading of him in order to 'mark' the man, as it were, allowing me to pinpoint his location from a significant distance. Between everything that has prevented me from dealing with him, I hadn't had enough time to actually do so. As such, this was the best alternative. That, and being in a room that he frequented had the benefit of exposing me to his... I'll call it 'signature,' so in the event that I don't find an address, this visit won't have been wasted effort.

Thankfully, that wouldn't appear to be the case, as I stumbled upon an opened letter piled underneath several sheets of paperwork. It wasn't from the school board, instead having a handwritten return address attached to a corner from the sender. On it, written in black felt, was Kamoshida's address. I grabbed my work phone, typing in the information on a map application. Sure enough, it checked out.

"Finally." I can put an end to this whole debacle. 'Don't worry, Takamaki. You won't have to deal with this scum ever again.' I don't know why, but my curiosity decided to act up, and I pulled out the letter and began to read its contents.

'I'm sorry Suguru, but with how packed the roster is this year we just can't fit you onto any of the teams, and getting a coaching position is tough. You know how cutthroat some people can be. Even so, you're still talked about fondly here with your old teammates as our star player. You've got the medal to prove it, after all.'

I put the letter back where it was. So, a fallen star then. Definitely explained his attitude, and I'd heard enough stories of famous people thinking that the world owed them for being who they were. Even sent a few to the hospital. Kamoshida would be no different from them.

Satisfied with my search, I turned around and left the building, climbing up the webs I left and into the now raining outdoors, collecting them into a bundle I left behind on the roof. They'd dissolve in a matter of time anyways; I just didn't want to risk them getting discovered before then.

Feeling a surge of purpose get renewed in me, I broke into a full sprint, easily passing over the length of the roof I was on and blitzing through the air, my legs firing like pistons. I cut through the air, firing web after web to keep myself aloft. I periodically checked my phone to ensure I was heading the right way, and was satisfied to see the closing distance I was making. Nothing was going to get in the way this time. Nothi-

KRACK-BOOM!

I recognize the screaming voices of pedestrians long before I realize that I let go of the web I was holding from the shockwave that buffeted my body. Quickly shooting out another, I twist myself on it and land on the side of a building, leaning out with one hand against the surface of the glass.

'What in God's name?' Even from this distance, I could smell the gas in the air, and close behind was the scorching smell of smoke. A gas explosion. I could hear people screaming on the streets, and a few muffled cries were heard behind roaring flames.

I launched myself so hard from the building I was on that the glass and concrete underneath me shattered into a fine dust. I went faster than I ever had before, piercing through the air like a missile until I perched myself on the edge of a building near the explosion. The billowing flames contrasted against the black-green rain clouds, the smoke choking out the scent of rain and overtaking the afternoon sky. It was a simple office building, only four storeys, and the fire was enveloping the bottom three easily. The rain was doing nothing to impede it, and I could only just now make out the sounds of the fire department heading their way.

I didn't hesitate and shot myself towards a cracked window, covering my face with my arms as I went through a ring of fire, the embers flicking against my outfit but just barely darting away from it as I landed in a blazing hall that was falling apart. Paint was peeling and burning in bright embers, and wood and metal were falling from the walls and ceiling. Whatever water remained on my costume immediately evaporated, and my world was lit up in a cascade of dancing flames. Every part of my body was protesting the new environment, the heat feeling like it was drying every inch of skin and sucking all of the air out of my lungs. I was thankful for the fact that I wore two masks, acting as a stop-gap solution to the rising smoke that threatened to overtake my throat.

Gas explosion caused a burst in fire suppression system, cutting off water from the needed pipes. Fire is escalating, will overtake the building in minutes. Three people left inside on fourth floor.

That was good. Those floors were still safe, but it wouldn't last long. I rushed as fast as I could on the weakening floorboards, the heat from them passing through the ill-suited material of my combat boots and searing my feet with ever increasing heat. As I neared a corner, I made out that the area was close to the stairs that lead to the upper floors, so I jumped to the left wall and then pushed out, gripping the corner wall and then flinging myself past it and into a door, landing on it and rushing up the stairs to escape the encroaching flames that danced on my back.

When I reached the door to the fourth floor, I opted to keep it attached and quickly closed it after entering. It wouldn't stop the fire, but it would get rid of the rush of air that I was going to create getting these people out. With how the handle to it seared my hand even through my glove as I closed it, it meant that I was quickly running out of time.

Turning around, I immediately saw one of the people still left; a man in a business suit, lying on the ground in an office space. He was unconscious, likely from the explosion. I rushed to him and slung an arm over my shoulder, dragging him through the maze of privacy walls to the furthest corner of the building and rested him against the wall. I ignored the blood pooling in front of his face and went back through the maze of desks, casting my senses out over the area.

Two people; one in the washroom, unconscious. Another in the main office, tied to a chair. What? Why would he be- not important. Right now, I needed to get these men out of here. I rushed over the heating floor, registering the bubbling flooring and broke into the bathroom. I ripped the stall door of a toilet off and grabbed the man, also suffering a head wound. I brought him to his similarly unconscious friend and rushed to the main office. The paint on the walls was peeling, and I could see smoke edging past the door I entered in.

Barreling through the door to the office, the tied-up man's eyes widened in shock, and his heart was beating a mile a minute. There was a gag over his mouth, and I went behind him to rip off the zip ties that were binding him to the chair.

"You're going to be alright sir." My two masks did their job well enough, and my throat was left practically untouched from the harmful smoke. The man flinched at the sound of my synthesizer, and took large gasps of air as I removed the gag.

"The hell're you doing here?!" He backed away from me after I freed him. He sounded... rather irate at the fact I was helping him.

Not knowing what else to say, I stated the obvious. "There's a fire. I'm trying to get everyone out." The reverberation of my voice was enough to be clearly heard over the flames.

"But aren't you-" he was cut off by the sound of wood falling apart and smoke billowing in from the open doorway. I let my senses go, and the invasion of sweltering heat and suffocating smoke was enough to reinstate my previous migraine in full force.

"We need to move!" I ignored whatever protests the man might have had and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him behind me. The doorway was now completely enveloped by the flames, smoke rushing out from it and sticking to my skin, grinding against it. I pushed the discomfort I felt and brought the man to his compatriots.

"Shit!" He ran past me, and I let him go to tend to his friends.

"They're alive, just unconscious!" I had to yell above the rising flames, and immediately after I spoke, I heard groaning metal. Up, the section of roof we were under gave way. I wrapped my arms around the three men and jumped to the side, the falling debris causing a wave of flames to wash over us. I twisted in the air to do my best to block them, but it went over all of us the same. I could feel flames sticking to my heels, and when we landed I webbed them up as fast as I could. The flames died out, and I let out a breath of relief.

Screams rose up from beside me, and I saw one of the unconscious men waking up, one of his legs alight with fire. His friend and I went to work patting it out, and soon after the flames died off, my hands swelling form the heat.

"Wh-wha-what the fuck?!" The man let out through shouted sobs. His leg was suffering from partial to complete second-degree burns, and portions of his pant leg were melted onto bits of exposed muscle from areas that were inflicted with small patches of third-degree burns.

"The hell do we do?!" The formerly bound man was devolving into a frantic panic, so I grabbed him by the collar and brought him close to my face.

"Listen," I pointed to the windows behind the man, my warped voice getting through his panicked fog, "I need you to grab onto these men so I can lower you all out of the building! Can you do that?!"

"What about you?!"

"That doesn't matter! Now do it!" My safety wasn't the most at risk right now. Thankfully, the man was quick to put his arms around the other two, and I wrapped a flurry of webs around them, tying them off as tightly as I could.

I needed to be quick about this. The second I broke one of those windows, the influx of oxygen would cause the fire to come towards it at a breakneck pace. So, with that in mind, I grabbed the bundle of men and rushed towards the windows, throwing a piece of rubble through it to stop any of the glass from cutting them. Immediately, the fire came upon us from behind, and I jumped out as far as we could go, the flames stabbing my back with pillars of heat.

Suddenly, the heat was replaced by cool steel as I felt three metal points stab into my sections of my back, gripping the pierced flesh. My scream came out as a garbled mess as I was pulled from the group of office workers. I instinctually shot out a web line to them and flung it towards a street post to catch them as I was pulled through a wall of burnt concrete and thrown into the smoke-filled air. It invaded my lungs as I twisted and fell through the air, my back hitting the far edge of the collapsing roof, causing me to spin as I barreled towards the ground. I managed to just bring my arms up and box them around my head when my shoulder met the pavement, the asphalt cracking underneath me as I slammed against it. A pained groan forced its way out of my charred throat as I writhed on the ground, clutching my shoulder. Nothing was broken, but every part of my body was roaring in pain, and I could feel sharp bits of stone stabbing into my back alongside the bleeding stab wounds and sticking to my ash covered costume, scratching against my skin.

Metal claws scratching against roof, mechanisms sliding into place, jumping from-

I discarded and ignored whatever pain was coursing through my body and propped myself up, crouching on the ground in a ready position. An explosion came from the building, shooting out a shower of broken concrete and burning debris, and behind the smoke a metallic figure vaulted in front of it. A long, cylindrical, prehensile tail skittered in front of him as it headed towards me, and I flipped back, barely avoiding the razor-sharp blade that extended out of the oblong end of it, replacing three curved, barbed blades that slid back into the sides of the end piece. As I landed, it easily embedded itself into the pavement of the office parking lot in a loud conclave of cracking concrete, and just as easily retracted out of it with a predatory slowness.

I followed the appendage as it retracted back to its wielder, the four small, circular dark-green lights surrounding the blade on its end looking as if they were being cut as they reflected on its razor-sharp edges. As it shortened from six inches to four, my eyes traveled along its spine, the deep navy-blue metal plates clinking together, covering a multitude of flexible metal wires constructed in a facsimile to muscular tissue overlapping one another. My eyes traveled to the hip of its wielder, overlapping armor plates covering the spine and stopping in a half-domed layer at the shoulder blades, protecting the neck and back of the head. My eyes stared into the blazing orange dots of the face, the brightness of the color sharply contrasting against the sleek and consuming blue of the outfit. It was like they were looking into the very soul of its prey, not helped by the fact that the eyes were the only feature of the blank and empty helmet. There were raised sections on the top of the forearms, with similar deep green lights emanating from deep openings, and the fingers were tipped with sharp talons that matched the ones placed on three sections of the armor's feet.

This outfit was leagues better than my own. Every inch of the dark blue armor was contoured to the wearer's body, not looking like it would sacrifice any inch of movement.

We squared off against each other, not moving an inch as we sized the other down. The flashing of the flames danced on our bodies and the sound of pouring rain and crackling wood painting the area in an encompassing gloom.

"Who are you?" My voice betrayed no fear, and every muscle in my body tightened in anticipation.

"You don't remember me?" The armor's tail twirled behind his body as he lowered himself into a slack posture, arms dangling so low that his hands nearly brushed the pavement. "I'm surprised. You saw me coming so easily last night." His electronic haze of a voice had a higher pitch than my own synthesizer, and the lazy words that come from it makes something click in my mind.

This was the man who almost killed that dealer last night. "You." It comes out like a growl from a beast, and my fingers dig into my palms through the fabric of my gloves.

"There you go." There was a bounce to his voice, as if he was encountering an old friend. "I'll give you full marks for stopping me from doing my job, and double for helping my with my current one." His orange eyes flashed, and I barely had time to react as he sprang towards me, the lights on his tail flashing against the edge of its blade.

Author's Note:

And we're back! Guest starring the first member of our rogue's gallery, my version of the Scorpion! And before any of you roll your eyes at that, I'm immediately going to say that this Scorpion isn't going to be a copy-n-paste of Mac Gargan, cause MAN can I say that I'm annoyed with how Marvel has treated him. I've always liked the character just for the simplicity of his design, seeing as how a scorpion is typically a predator to things like spiders. Yet Marvel has just turned the guy into a complete washout from how he was introduced. Not to be the case this time. Also wanted to do a blue theme with the costume rather than a green, mostly out of random inspiration than anything.

Also, yeah. The beginning portion with Takamaki was not easy to write. I find myself in this tight-wire situation where I don't want to go too far for risk of coming across as insensitive, given that this is a very real trauma that an unfortunately large amount of women have to go through, but I also feel that minimizing it would just be insulting to the people who have to and have gone through it. Hopefully I was able to a well enough job writing it.

Also, with regards to IS6A6E. I want to make it very clear that I appreciate your enthusiasm for my story, but can you please stop asking whether or not I'm going to pair Kurokuya with Makoto? For one thing, I'm not (in fact I'm going to be rather cruel towards the relationship these two will have, but it isn't out of dislike for the character, rather I just have a specific outline for them,) for another it just gets annoying. And to answer your questions, it takes place in the main Marvel Universe, Earth-616, specifically just before the first Civil War, and no, Pale Spider is going to be Kurokuya's superhero name.