Twin Devils

Jaga's point of view.

(Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING)

(A/N: Alright guys. This is a special character chapter. It still affects the story, but it is more focused around the character. Now we get to see the underbelly of the life of Jaga… :3

Remember. This chapter is going to be all about my character Jaga Akuma. That being said, I do have a few side notes to throw in.

This chapter is going to be very graphic. WARNING! IF YOU DO NOT LIKE BLOOD AND GORE, YOU ARE ADVISED NOT TO READ THIS CHAPTER.

I'm writing from a twisted point of view, trying to get you in the mind set of a gang member, so this chapter involves gang members, gangs, gang violence, prostitution, drugs, alcohol, blood, gore, threatening, burning of people, torturing, interrogations, gambling, illegal gambling, lots of illegal stuff, shirtless Jaga, Jaga's tattoos, bad grammar, hot Jaga, sweet Jaga, people getting mauled by a jaguar, sad backstories, overwhelming feels, emotional stuff, complicated plot lines, and excessive fangirling. You have been warned.

Hope you enjoy!)

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

I remember that day clear as can be. The day I was assigned to Haruhi.

It just so happened to be the day I was to start attending that wretched school full of princesses and daydreaming idiots. What a waste of time. Why do the rich need to be separated from the poor? It's not like hanging with a few mutts is going to make a purebred act like a hound. And vice versa. If a mutt gets to eat with a purebred for a few meals, it won't start to expect it. Can't we all just get mashed into one daft looking building and get taught another brain numbing subject by a monotone robot together in peace and harmony for a dull eight hours? If it were my opinion, there wouldn't even be any type, form, or fashion of schools. Honestly. What good does eight hours of reading, writing, and arithmetic do that properly supports humans now of days? I mean, last week, there was this banker that I had to tail as part of my mission, and look at this big shot. He had spent most of his life in schools, training, studying, and learning. He had a squeaky clean school record, got every single academic award that was achievable, and had never even been to the principal's office before. Even when I followed him into his home, I remember seeing that he went all out, going to some fancy college in the states, obtaining five degrees in the randomest of research areas.

Yet, when I had him cornered up against a back alley wall, on his knees, kissing my boots and begging for his life, groveling, and pleading like the pathetic pig he was, he never used a second of the training that he had learned in the schoolhouse. Whenever I had beaten him into submission, and he had crawled across the ground, spitting out blood about how he had a family at home, friends at work, and a life to live, but not once did he say that he had to live in order to learn more in school. In that hour that I spent torturing that fat slob, he never once murmured an algebraic equation, not once did he state the first lady of the 15th American President, and not once did I hear the significance of the Nile River spill from his lips. So when I had my goons put him up on the wall in front of me, his gut hanging low since he was held upside down, his plump little face red as his beaten mug yelled up at me, trying to bribe me to stop. So when I dug my silver claws into his soft underbelly and tugged suddenly down, a satisfying ripping noise filling the air as his guts spilled out on the cold midnight pavement, finally ending his weak willed utterances. Pity he wasted his time in school reading about the effect of pheromones have on animals instead of learning how to be street smart. Shame.

But then again, I could never forget that day. It was a very strange day.

I had been alone in my room, staring back at myself in the mirror. The light couldn't bother to be turned on, so I had left it off, admiring the way that the shadows sweetly caressed my body in the reflection. My glowing green eyes illuminated in the night like an animal's, my gaze deciding to examine my form in the glass since I had been previously working out. My torso was defined with abs, my arms and back plagued with muscles, tendons ripping through whenever I flexed. A slight sheen of sweat went all over my body, covering every inch of me in the sweet serene privacy of my chamber. I released a slow breath, tilting my head to examine all of my tattoos. On my right shoulder was a red skull, crimson smoke encircling around it, the words "Revel in the Chaos" curling under it. Straight across on the other shoulder was a black and red two toned star, bold and brilliant on it's own. Barely visible was a brushing tattoo across my collarbone, a powdery blue Omega symbol resting on a couple of pillars sat there, very difficult to see in the lack of light. Flames licked over the top of my shoulder from the ornate inking of a fire breathing dragon that was snaked all down my back, taunt with muscles. I scratched my chin. Hmm. A tattoo would look nice there… Onto my favorite tattoo, the one ripping, literally ripping right down my chest. I had a tattoo of a black jaguar clawing down my chest, its claws ripping down over my collarbone, its snarling mouth open and its piercing green eyes staring back at me as if they were my own.

As if on cue, I heard the deep thrum of a purr, and some fur brush against my leg, and I almost laughed, putting a hand down at patting the creature on the head, "Did you think I was talking about you, Hakai?"

The black jaguar chuffed at me, giving me an amused green gaze as he plopped down on our shared bed, began to lazily lick his chomps. I shook my head and chuckled, "You're something else buddy."

My last two tattoos. Both around my arms. The first read, "May I Be Forever Grateful That At Times, I Did Not Receive That Which I truly Deserved." And the other wound around my bicep like a snake, "I Don't Want To Die Without A Few Scars." I smirked a little to myself. Needless to say, I'm thoroughly proud of my tattoos.

Slumping down on my bed, I ran a hand over Hakai's head, tugging softly at his ear. The darkness felt good in this room, and I personally preferred the lack of light. It hid everything that I didn't want to see when I needed time away from this life. It helped to silence their screams.

The door slid open a few cracks, and light flooded in, spilling over the objects in my room like a river would flow over stones in a riverbed. I looked up at the silhouetted body, and squinting, trying to seek out the face of the person who disturbed my peace.

Even though I couldn't see the face, the voice I recognized immediately. "Hey, Boss. C'mon and get out here, sir. Your dad has a new assignment for you to carry out."

I sighed, and then found myself nodding as I stood up, stretching out my sore muscles. "Alright, Blade. I'm on it."

The door shut, and I let myself build back down. Akiko 'Blade' Kenshi. He was the second in command of my little group. With his low bass of a voice, it's surprising any man has the resolve to stand up to such a giant. The reason he's called Blade in the first place is because of his weapon of choice. A three foot machete with a hilt made from the bones of victims. Pretty hardcore right? Well, it would be, except he treats the thing better than he would his first born. Everyday he takes the time to polish and shine it, gentle enough not to hurt it and careful enough to make sure it doesn't rust. Yet I've seen him hack off limbs with it with as much force as he would tend to it. He was a huge man. Truly intimidating, but he was a big softy for any of his weapons. Even so, he towered over any of us, his crude face and square jaw very blunt and brutish on his face, and his hair cropped close in a buzz cut. A scar ran down his face from his left temple to the bottom of his chin. He never would tell me how he got that scar, but I found out that his father was a very skilled knife thrower, and I put two and two together. The man was a brute, solid pounds covered him and slabs of muscles traveled all over his body, head to toe. Even so, he was one of my most trusted men.

I slid on a shirt, running a hand through my hair and deciding to finally walk out. Inside, I released a sigh, not wanting to leave this room, or Hakai. It's not that there was anything wrong with the people outside, or what our gang was formed on. It's just, everything's so… boring. Nothing exciting happens. Ever. There are a few moments in the heat of battle or when I'm tailing someone and am about to get caught, or if I get captured and am close to losing my life. That! That is fun, my friend.

Hakai rubbed his big furry head against my thigh and chuffed lightly, looking up at me with such burning green eyes. I chuckled and rubbed his head, squeezing his ear gently. "I know. But I'll be right back," I pinched his cheek, forcing his white canines to gleam in the light. "Don't worry big guy. I wouldn't dare leave you, my man. You're the life of the party!"

As I started out, I felt a slight tug on my trouser leg, pausing in faint surprise. Turning around, I saw that the jaguar had taken my pants with his teeth and was now giving me adorable little begging eyes. It snorted, nudging my leg. I rolled my eyes, crouching down in front of the animal, beginning to play with his ears and stroking down his shoulders, "Fine. You want to come with me?"

I was tackled by the large cat, chuckling as I felt his big rough tongue scrape across my cheek. Shaking my head, I sat up, patting him on the back. "Oh, that is just disgusting! I don't know where your tongue's been!" After a low growl from the jaguar, I got up and sighed. "Alright, alright. You can come with me."

We made our way in the long stretching corridor, my long bare footed strides silent on the wood floor as Hakai padded on along side me. My nickname, the Jaguar, has nothing on Hakai's nickname. Yes, my pet has a nickname, thank you. It's only because he's considered a top ranking member, right up there with me. And I quite like his name, if I do say so myself. The boys call him "Lightning Death." They call him that because he can kill a man so fast that he looks like lightning. The reasoning is just plain stupid, but I do like the name itself.

Half way down the hall, a man lurched out of the darkness of a room, running around wildly and flagging me over, "Boss! Boss!"

I couldn't help but laugh at how amusing this little man was. "Yes. What is it, Dark?"

The monkey thing of a man hopped around, laughing as he slashed a knife around excitedly, "Boss! You won't believe this! I need your help desperately!"

"Slow down!" I ordered, holding up a hand. Dark immediately stopped moving, shrinking back. "Now what do you need help with? Make it fast, I ain't got much time."

Dark took a deep breath and nodded, "So, I have these two witnesses that I'm suppose to be getting information out of… But they're no fun! They give me exactly what I want without me even putting up a fight! So I need some new interrogation methods that will entertain me. Because this is just getting sad. Blade suggested that I cut them with knives so that they'll scream louder. And Viper said I should burn them because their skin looks flammable." He suddenly stopped and let out a sinister little laugh, his high pitch voice way too scratchy and insane to be coaxing as he continued, "I'm very tempted to do my favorite method. I was going to make them fight each other and try to get answers out of each other. The loser dies and the winner gets freedom! It's such a good plan!"

"Last time you did that, you killed the winner anyway," I said, looking down at him.

He frowned like a kid being told that the Tooth Fairy wasn't real, all his hopes crushed, "Awwww, Boss. You gave away the surprise ending…"

"Anyway," I rolled my eyes. "The way to break a strong man is not to break his body. That cannot crush his determination. The way to break a strong man is not to break his mind. That will just render him a blundering idiot who can't tell his hand from his face. No. The way to break a strong man is to break his spirit. To watch his fire slowly drain out of him until he looks half dead already, no will to go on further. That can be accomplished either by killing his family, or forcing him to inadvertently kill his beloved ones. But even further so, to break a weak man, it requires much less than you can ever imagine. A weak man is subject to fear. Pain. Death. Petty mortal human matters. So use that to your advantage. The way to break a weak man is not to break his spirit, but to break his body. You'll have him squealing in your hand. Make it slow, and painful and building. Then you'll have won."

Dark grinned widely, then did a little bow, "Of course, sir. I knew I could count on your large range of intelligence." He zipped back off into the room shouting, "Time to die!"

I shook my head. That man, Kuro "Dark" Heisi, was something else entirely. Yet another member of my team. He was a short man, not because of his height but because he hopped around like a gorilla most of the time. We don't know why, but he tells us it was because of how he was raised. Which would make sense, because when we found him, he was coming out of the jungle like a mad man, covered in mud and shaggy hair in dread locks. Definitely gives the man a wild and animalistic edge. He is a sly little creature with spiky blonde hair and wild blue eyes that could pierce a sheet of titanium if he stared hard enough. Well built for any type of running, and he possibly can break anything with his hands if you gave him enough recuperation. I wouldn't be stupid enough to mess with him, even though I know that I'm ten times scarier and tougher than him. You see, Kuro has this thing that can be a major win or a major flaw, depending on how you look at it. Kuro is insane. Like literally, I don't know how he acted so tame just a few minutes ago. And you can act as tough as you want, you can be big and bad, but if you start acting insane, nobody will deal with you. People don't do crazy. And if they're stupid enough to attempt to fight you, then they're stupid enough to be dead.

Continuing down the hall, I was stopped just outside my father's door, a hand pressed against my chest. It was a man I knew well. A member of my squad. Takuto "Viper" Vashita. Some cat from the States with a real thick Jersey accent, a seemingly permanent cigarette set between his teeth. Like any classic American gang member, he had everything stereotypical; the black pants, the tight black leather jacket, the red undershirt, the black boots (which made father unhappy because he wore the nasty things everywhere), the perfectly gelled up hair, and the extremely dark sunglasses. But no matter how cliché his get up was, this man was nothing of a cliché at all. He was a cold blooded killer. The reason he even came to us all the way out in Japan was because he was kicked out of America for a number of different offenses. Apparently, he was so terrifying, when they tried to fry him, he talked them out of it and walked out of the front doors with just a slap on the wrist. Because they didn't want to deal with him, they shipped him off to Japan. Japan hasn't been on good terms with America since. He's a major pyromaniac so if he's seen with a flame around him, he clears a room pretty quickly.

Slowly, he blew smoke out, looking me in the eyes, "Hey boss. I'd take it careful in there, aight? Big boss seems pretty angry at the moment. Would hate to see you get hurt, sir."

I scoffed, waving his hand away. "It's me you're talking about Vipe. No need to be worried. Plus, I got my secret weapon. Hakai's with me."

"Yes, boss. Deepest apologies, boss," He discreetly put a hand down and brushed it along the jaguar's pelt.

Finally, I made it inside my father's room. Since he was dealing with some other gang members, I just hung out by the wall, minding my own tongue. I wouldn't want to learn that lesson again.

Father sure did know how to make an impression. As soon as you walked in it was like a whole other world full of red skulls and swirling smoke. Red everywhere as if the last embers of a dying fire had been splashed against the walls, their breath still lingering throughout the dark and hazy room. In the base of the room, a stage stood, and a wicked black and red throne that curled up as if reaching from the pits of Hell, which happened to be where my father sat. Each looming skull was placed behind my father, the large statues made out of crystals, red light illuminating them and filling them with the eerie blood soaked color. Guards were stationed in the room, large buff tanks of men with big guns and even bigger muscles. Every guard had no emotion, staring blankly ahead like a flock of blindly guided sheep. And then, looking at my father, he himself would leave an impression all by himself. He was a stern man, no give in ways or methods. His voice was so powerful and menacing that it could make a grown man break down his resolve. Which has happened several times, by the way. Elegantly dressed in a black suit and pinstriped in red, he looked even stronger, a hand going up to straighten his red tie. Several large golden rings covered his fingers, a hefty cigar held in between them, the smoking cylinder used a pointer in the conversation, occasionally stopping so it's owner could get in a few puffs. His black hair was quaffed back on his head, a few grey streaks running through the locks. Father was a muscular man, his figure seen even under his opaque suit. Peeking out through the cuffs and neck of his suit, small amounts of his huge tattoo collection could be seen if you looked close enough, glimpsing the wings of an angel or the horns of a devil. Scantily clad women hung off of the man, rubbing up against him, and running their grubby hands all over him-

I personally wouldn't be able to stand that. I understand why men do, but, I mean, come on. Those women are strippers. I have nothing personally wrong with that profession, I mean, work has to come somewhere right? But I wouldn't hire them for myself to have them hang over me like a blanket, putting their hands on my. First off, ew. They're strippers. I don't know where her hand's been. I barely want to know where my hand's been. That's disgusting. I don't know if she's washed her hand thoroughly, or at all for that matter. Please lady, there is a sink over there! Anyway… Where was I at? Oh yeah. Father dearest. This man exuded the very definition of power. Any fool who opposed him… well, I feel for them.

Right now, a man was sweating in his presence, head down and shame as he bowed low and shook his head slowly, "I'm sorry, Godfather Akuma. I have failed to complete the mission. The target killed off my men, and I failed to kill him. I've failed you, my lord. Please have mercy on my soul."

Father looked down at the man with scrutinizing eyes, stroking his little goatee, grey streaks running through that as well, "Oh is that so? Jon Geol, you've failed me? Hmmm. You'll be dealt with later. Because I respect your honesty, I'll give you a slightly less painful death. Take him away men. Put him up in the stocks with broken arms until I get down there."

With a silent and serene face, the man was hauled away by two of the behemoth men. Looking around for someone to fill the man's place, father searched around the room until his black eyes landed on the jittery companion to the man whom he had just ordered to have killed. He pointed at the lengthy man with his cigar, then put the thing between his teeth once more, "You. There. Go out and take his mission on your own two shoulders. Take care of the son of the Dai Lee Syndicate and bring me back his head as a trophy. Off with you now." Father turned to address me, and then was interrupted by the flea's endless rambling.

"U-Um, sir?" The jittery man began. "Whenever you say, 'take care of,' do you mean as in aid him in his struggles, or did you mean to kill him? I'm sorry Godfather Akuma, but you really must be more specific with your requests."

I saw the muscles in Father's hand tighten and I flinched, awaiting what was about to happen. The gang leader slammed his fist down on the arm of the chair, knocking off some ash that had collected at the end of his cigar, "I said that I wanted him dead. When I say I want someone dead, I mean dead. Dead does not mean alive and prancing all over my pride. I said it clear. Now, fail me again, and you'll be very clear on the definition of dead! Leave!"

The little flea scrambled out, running at full speed to leave the room and all the inhabitants. Father sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. The women all swooned over him, calling him names like 'Daddy' and 'Papa', asking what they could do for him to make him better. He didn't answer the girls, grumbling to himself. A grunt stepped up to his throne, clearing his throat, "Uh, sir. You really might want to be clearer on your wishes and requests. Some people might get confused from some of your terms."

Without talking it out with the man, without even looking up into the poor fool's face, father place's the barrel of a pistol in the man's mouth and made him swallow a bullet. The girls all jumped and screamed as the limp body hit the floor, the man's brain and blood scattered along the wall, blending with the paint. He tossed his gun to one of his men. "Clean this up before Mrs. Akuma gets home. She hates it when I leave a mess. And wash that gun. I don't want his filth to soil it." Finally, his eyes found mine and he nodded, "Ah. My son. Come forward. I must speak with you about a mission."

Little did I know, this day would change my life.

o0o

"Hmmm. Haruhi Fujioka you say?" I asked, then paused, remembering that name for some reason. "Fujioka… Hey. Isn't that the name of the lawyer that got uncle put in prison for fifteen years?"

Father nodded, combing back his slick hair, "That's right, my son. Haruhi is the daughter of the acclaimed lawyer. Brother says he wants her to join his ranks as a 'Friend', so he can get revenge on the mother, Kotoko. A petty wish, but I'd rather do something stupid for him than have the wrath of his organization come crashing down on my head all at once. Besides. Fujioka almost stopped the growth of this syndicate whenever she almost got my father convicted. That would not have ended well. So I guess that we have motive now as well. Reason enough."

I nodded, soaking in the briefing that my leader was giving me, "I understand. Now what exactly do you want me to do with the girl?"

"Oh, this is the fun part." My father gave a hearty laugh, which would scare most men, if they weren't accustomed to his chilling and grating laughter. "You will have many jobs on this mission. You shall be a messenger, delivering whatever message either me or your uncle demand of you to. You shall have to tail her every action and every move, anywhere she is, anything she's doing, I want you to know about it. Yes, that gives you permission to spy on our young Haruhi even in the 'safety' of her home." He chuckled once more at that. "Be sure to include in the report how lovely the young lady is. You can take her out wherever you want, and do whatever you want with her. Seduce her, take her, beat her. Makes no difference whatsoever to me. Even kill her if you please. Just make sure that you kill her after brother gains his use out of her. Just have fun with her. Play around. Nothing is more fun than manipulating people. You are young, use her as your toy as you will. But I must warn you. There is a catch…"

My eyes perked at that, Hakai rubbing impatiently on my thigh. "What kind of catch?"

He huffed, looking away, "It seems that this young folly Haruhi happens to attend the same school as your brother. That won't be a problem, will it?"

I remember distinctly what I thought in that moment. Kyoya Ootori. My half brother. Oh, revenge is so sweet.

Anyone who took one look at us could see the obvious relation. Each of us were tall with long strong legs and stretched torsos, our height and length not awkward or gangly at all. We wore our skin with elegance, each of us confident in our strides, and affirmative in our actions. Cockiness runs in the family I guess. I was more dangerous than him, though I wouldn't count the little four eyes out entirely. He had strengths of his own. We could both manipulate to get what we wanted, and we each had different ways of doing it. It is so unfair of our differences. Kyoya got mother, the kindest, nicest women that I've ever met, and I was left with a cold and stern father. Sure, I've seen my half brother's dad, and okay, he can be a little bossy, but with my father, if I screw up, there's no guarantee that I'll walk away with my life. Plus, he has siblings. Two stronger and great older brothers. I have diddly squat that I'm proud of out here. He's but a purebred, a "product of excellent breeding" as he likes to call himself. I'm a lowly mutt, the offspring of a few drunken minds and the heat of a one night stand. Most people think that I hate him. They could never be more wrong. Kyoya Ootori is a brilliant specimen, and I can never compare to his excellence.

I nodded, "Alright. I've received my mission. I'll take my squad and carry it out." Giving my best bow, I left my father, ready to giddily take on this mission.

"Son," He boomed after me. "If you fail this mission, consider yourself not my son anymore, and your life over. Understand?"

Even with that foreboding warning hanging over me like a fog, "I understand father. Thank you."

He coughed lightly, "Oh, I almost forgot. Take this." He handed me a green hair clip. Haruhi will be able to identify you from this clip

Gathering up my band of rejects, I went and left straight for Ouran Academy.

After getting all dolled up in my new Ouran Academy uniform, we went to go scope out my little precious Haruhi whilst she was at school. As soon as we got there, our rag tag group of roughens slinked inside as if we belonged, though it was obvious Kuro, Akiko, and Takuto didn't belong. I mean, a bunch of creepy looking older men in a private school was a little suspicious right? I turned towards my men, "Alright. New plan. We'll go around back and spy on them from there."

So then we all piled up outside, staring up at the windows in hope of seeking out my target.

"Come on," I mumbled under my breath, squinting up into the glass walls as I tried to find her. Suddenly, I caught a glimpse of her, and I was breathless. Such a petite figure, lovely brown hair, swirling brown eyes, so cute… I felt myself smile. "There she is. Looks just like she did when she was five."

"Where?" Kuro asked, swiveling his head around wildly to try and spot her.

Rolling my eyes, I caught his jaw and directed it towards the window, "Right there buddy. The little brown haired girl dressed in the boy's outfit."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on." Takuto held up a hand. "So, you have a thing for a guy, boss?"

I swerved around and slapped him across the head, "Easy! It's a girl in a boy's uniform. Why? I don't know. But still…"

"She's pretty," Akiko finished for me, grinning like an idiot. Whenever he grinned, it made the scar on his face split. "Where've you been hiding her all this time?"

"Nowhere," I shrugged. "I've only seen her twice maybe in my life. I guess I'm good with faces."

Kuro rubbed his hands together, the greedy little man licking his lips, "So when do we get to have some fun with her, eh boss?"

For some reason, the thought of all three of my boys going up to Haruhi and trapping her in a corner irked me. I knew what kind of fun they had in mind, and I wasn't so tempted to let that happen to this girl. The thought of Takuto smirking as he accidently burns her with the end of his cigarette while trying to mark up her neck, or chuckling as he touches her lips with his fiery hands and some of his cigarette ash falls down on her. Or the thought of Akiko getting his large hands all on her and squeezing her too tightly and accidently breaking down her fragile little body. Or worst of all. That animal of a man Kuro running his grubby little knotted hands over her body and degrading it with his filth, or if the man decided to go wild and beat down her body with his bare fists. Or, if all three of them were to swarm her, oh the thought of hot breath, the awkward gropes and squeezes, and the sounds of Haruhi's virgin screams as they-

I punched Kuro in the side of the head, surprising even myself whenever I released a growl, "None of you can touch her! Haruhi is mine. Got that?"

They all froze at my sudden exclamation, and nodded in unison, giving off a round of 'yes boss's.

I felt my gaze go back up to the window, admiring her figure through the glass. Taking a deep breath, I groomed a lock of my hair back and pinned it back under my green hair clip. "Alrighty then, boys. You can leave now. Papa's got some work to do."

As soon as I turned to dismiss my men, I heard a familiar voice behind me stutter out, "A-Akuma?! Is that you?!"

Turning around, a slow smirk crossed my face, "Ah. My good friend. Kasanoda. Figures I'd run into you. They got you in this stupid school as well, huh? Just blows, doesn't it?"

The red haired son of the Kasanoda stared at me in complete shock, "No way… I haven't seen you in years…"

"Ha, sorry to disappoint," I pointed to the scar that marked up my face, a thin stroke that went from my upper lip, down my lower lip, and continued of my chin. "Haven't seen me since you gave me this? Marked up my chin then tailed it."

"I-I-I, I never meant to do that, I am so sorry," He stammered.

I slung my arm around the other yakuza son's shoulders, pulling him closer to myself like we were the best of buddies. He was completely rigid against me, every muscle in his body wanting to reject my presence as if I were some harmful parasite and send me back into the depths I'd crawled out off. Quite amusing. I punched him lightly in the gut as if we were playing, which I kind of was. Toying with my prey. "Eh, what's a scar between two good friends? Not a thing, Ritsu. I don't blame you one bit. I challenged you to that duel, so I don't mind a few scars. Speaking of which, you didn't walk away unscathed either… Where'd I hit you again…?" I dug around in his left shoulder, and then pressed my thumb into the skin, making the red head release a breath. "Right there. That's why you carry your bag over your other shoulder, right? Figured."

Kasanoda gulped and pulled away, "That's right. How- How'd you know that?"

I grinned and did a little bow, smirking all the while, "Lucky guess? I may be a lot smarter than I look, you know? Anyway. I must be getting off. Class starts soon, am I correct?"

"Wait…" He paused, and with horror glanced down at my uniform, eyes widening. "You're attending school here now?"

"Hmm." I scratched my chin, thinking. I wasn't going to attend most classes, and I didn't need any friends from this place, but technically, yes. I would be attending. "Something like that," I answered. "Anyway. I must be off now. I'm sure that I'll see you later." I walked off down the school yard, leaving my men and a dumbfounded Ritsu Kasanoda in my wake, leaving that world behind as I stepped foot inside Ouran.

I felt myself smiling at the memory. Because that was the day I also fell in love with Haruhi.

o0o

Now we're back to the present, yet I'm still standing outside of the Ouran Academy gates with all three of my buddies, waiting for school to end so that I can catch a glimpse of Haruhi. I hadn't seen her in like a week, and the suspense was killing me. Not only did keeping my distance from her affect my job, it also hurt me. I wanted to see her, whether she wanted to see me or not. I know that I probably screwed things up whenever I last took her out and tried to plant a kiss on her. Really stupid of yourself, Jaga… I know it was, all right! Stop bugging me! ... Whatever…

I slicked back my hair, hating it when I do this to myself. Whenever I messed something up, or find myself acting stupid, my inner voice ends up lecturing me about everything that I did wrong or could've done better. It's kind of a problem, but I learn to live with it.

"Where's that pretty little kitten?" Kuro asked, fingers fiddling with a piece of rope for some reason. "I want to see her again."

"Yeah," Takuto agreed. "Where's that dame at anyway? School just ended."

Akiko grunted, twirling a knife in his fingers as he stared out into the school yard, "I want to see her as well. Isn't that her?"

Haruhi came walking out of the school's entrance, a lovely smile on her face, and I swear the day just got brighter. No lie, she can brighter up this mutt's world. Seeing her bright face with that glimmering smile made my spirits lift and my chest swell. Why wasn't I allowed to see her again? Oh that's right. Because she started going out with that Kaoru guy. Not like he would put any moves on her. I should be fine.

Just then Kaoru popped up beside her like a loyal dog, openly holding her hand and praising her with smiles and jokes, obviously happy to see her. I cleared my throat, a tight feeling going on in my chest as if someone covered the muscle in cotton then held it there with pins. You better get your hands off of her, you little punk. I'll pound you into the ground. It's fine Jaga. There's no way that scrawny little thing could ever do anything with Haruhi-

Kaoru bent down and pulled the girl closer to himself as they embraced, their lips colliding in an extraordinary kiss in which they put forth so much care into, I could almost feel it.

I stared at them wide eyes, opening my mouth then closing it again just as quickly. My chest felt as if someone removed the pins and were hammering nails into my heart until the stone thing cracked and broke, falling and collecting at the pit of my stomach. I covered my mouth, releasing a small cough, expecting blood to come back up from the pain I had just felt. This was unreal. All my energy just drained out of me as if it had been vacuumed out like my feelings were grains of dirt in the carpet of life. All moisture drained from my body like it was about to flow out of my eyes and form a river at my feet to wash away the betrayal I just witnessed. I wanted to punch something, but then again I also wanted to just sink to the ground and forget this life so that I could become nothing in this world so as never to feel that pain again. Huh. So that's what it feels like to have your heart broken.

The two lovers pulled away, and Haruhi rushed back up the stairs because it looked like she forgot something. Kaoru lifted his head high like he was the big man on campus, like he was happy just to be with the girl of his dreams for once. I tightened my jaw, clenching my teeth and began walking away.

Akiko looked at me with a concerned expression as I walked slowly down the yard, "Umm, boss?"

"Take him into the alley and beat him senseless." I ordered, bitterness filling where my love had been. I no longer wanted to see that smug little smile on that little face of his. I never wanted to be in such a fragile state because of a human. I never wanted to be so desperately in love with a puppy when I knew that the relationship was futile and she would never love me back. But alas. I'm but a mutt in a world of wolves, and my weakness will be dealt with. I haven't learned from my mistake yet. I'm sorry…

So I waited in that grimy little alley way, watching as they dragged his struggling body into it's depths and pushed him around, toying with the boy's weak nature. So I watched as Kaoru began to flail around, swinging his fists in an attempt to try and stop the men that were pounding on the smaller man's body, simply teasing him with what they could do. So I watched as they caused large bruises to form all over his pale body, the purple welts on his face and torso already showing and beginning to color. So I watched as he was cut and blood spilled from his nose, mouth, and other lacerations, the red of the liquid splattering on the ground as if it were raining down tears of the angels. So I watched on as the weaker twin fell to the ground and was stomped out, his fragile little body's only defense to their stomping feet was to lift his arms up, attempting to block his face. So I watched as they relentlessly pounded into the kid. So I watched as I heard his bones snap in defiance. So I watched as I heard his petty screams for mercy, his useless screams for help and rescue, his pleading for them to stop. So I watched as they beat the consciousness out of him. So I watched as they broke him, just like he broke my heart.

As soon as his limp head hit the pavement, I strode over, something inside me forever broken and snapped, this new side of my bloodthirsty and angry. I grabbed Kaoru's hair, pulling his head up, and began to scream at him, "You fool!" I socked him square across the jaw. "That was my Haruhi!" I decked him in the nose. "How dare you poison her with those lips!" I cuffed him hard in the ear. "You're weren't supposed to be in the picture!" My fist connected with the front of his face, and I felt one of his teeth begin to give. Panting, I looked down at the sleeping little orange haired devil, his swollen jaw, his broken nose, his bleeding mouth, his purple glued eyes, and his broken face, and my anger only built up more. I pulled back my fist one last time, releasing a battle cry of sorts before I yelled, "SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MINE!" With each word, I gave his face a good lick, each punch more forceful than the last. Dropping his limp body, I wiped my nose, feeling as if I were about to break through a wall or throw up my lunch.

I lurched towards the car, hand on my middle as I crossed the street, "Let's dump him."

Collapsing into the seat, I leaned my head back against the head cushion. I was sweating… No, it had started raining. I hadn't even realized. My clothes were soaked and stuck to my skin, damp and heavy now that they were full of water. I felt something else. A warm rain feeling that was coming out of my eyes, and I just now realized what was happening. I was crying. I hadn't cried since I was three, so why now. I sniveled, allowing myself these few seconds before the guys got in the car. Do you think they'd believe me if I blamed it on the rain?

o0o

We ditched Kaoru's body at the foot of the Hitachiin mansion, dumping out his figure as if he were dead, his limbs all jutting out at odd angles and making it look like we completely demolished him. I didn't leave the car. I simply wrote a note and asked Takuto to put it up there by his body. As soon as the note was placed, we left, skidding down the long driveway of the estate.

I stared outside at the moon, eyes still red and aching from my few moments of tears. This was a pain I never wanted to feel again. I was sick to my everything, just wanting to die, or at least kill myself so I wouldn't have to feel this pain anymore. The pain of seeing a person you love be with someone else was crushing. And even though I had just watched the life be beaten out of Kaoru, I know that I was the one feeling the agony.

I felt my thoughts drift to what I put in that letter, hoping it would reach Haruhi along with the sight of Kaoru's broken body.

I had written just too sentences: Please forgive my ways. Alas, I am but a mutt.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

A/N: Alright, so that's the end of the Jaga chapter. What did you guys think? Are you sad? Angry? Upset? Overflowing with feels? Let me know! Review what you thought, it would really make me happy.

I've heard a lot of people like Jaga, so I decided to give you a peek into the twisted little Jaguar's mind.

If you have any questions or possible story requests, please either post them in the reviews or PM, I would love to hear your thoughts, answers your questions and muse over your ideas.

If you haven't already, please Follow and Favorite, it helps me out a lot, and review! It makes me so happy!

Plenty of action in the next few chapters ;) ;) Things are going to start heating up!

Thank you guys for reading, you're all awesome! Love you all!