Chapter 12: Battered and Bruised

"Shiho… are you okay?"

Ann sits next to her oldest friend on the bench in the school courtyard. Mishima wasn't in any shape to field questions while the nurse was patching up his head. She could talk to him later.

Shiho looked… well, she'd looked better, for sure. She didn't look any more bruised than usual, but only now does it occur to Ann that expecting to see her bruised at all was a sign that something was wrong. Shiho's eyes had bags under them, and she seemed to have trouble keeping them open. Was Kamoshida working her into the ground? Was she having trouble sleeping?

No, Shiho just shakes her head. "I'm fine, Ann. I'm just… tired from practice." Her voice is so much softer than it used to be, back in middle school. It's like she's afraid she'll break something if she speaks louder than above a whisper.

Ann misses Shiho's random questions, her strange observations, the way she'd pull a conversation in any direction except the one you'd expect. Her first words to her had been, "Wow, your painting really sucks!" and that was the Shiho she's known for years.

When had Kamoshida taken that energy from her? Why hadn't Ann noticed before now?

"Is your knee still bothering you?" Her eyes fell to the brace Shiho was wearing on her right knee.

Shiho actually brightens up at that, smiling softly. "It's just to keep from getting injured running around, that's all. You know I'd tell you if I actually pulled something."

Would you?

It scares Ann to think of the things Shiho might not be telling her. Is she ashamed? Does she think Ann wouldn't believe her?

"Well, th-that's good! You know, I've been hearing some pretty nasty things about… volleyball practice, and stuff."

"You worry too much, Ann."

Ann only wishes that was true. She'd have seen a lot more if she did.

"You know you can tell me if… anything's bothering you, right?"

Shiho looks up from her knees at Ann, batting her eyelashes in that utterly adorable way. "Of course, Ann. I know I can always count on you."

Ann feels something tremble in her heart, and she smiles even as something stings at the back of her eyes. "I'm here for you. And uh, if you don't see Mishima-kun at practice today, he got hit pretty bad at the volleyball rally—"

Shiho's eyes drop back down again. "Yeah, no surprise there."

Ann narrows her eyes. "Does he get injured often? He's not particularly clumsy…"

Shiho just shakes her head. "It's nothing, Ann. I'll talk to you later, okay?" She stands up without waiting for an answer.

"Y-Yeah! You can hit me up whenever, alright?" Ann watches her go, her chin falling into her hands. Nationals are coming up, and Shiho will be in the starting lineup… but the stress of that can't be everything, can it?

We'll get Kamoshida, Shiho. It won't be long…

Akira decides to give Mishima some time to recover from his probable-concussion. The feeling of stares following her for every second she walks Shujin's halls is a problem she's taking care of, now.

She knocks against the frame of the door to the Faculty Office as she opens the door. Kawakami's desk is a little messy again, and the woman herself only blinks at her when Akira steps forward to clean it.

"Kurusu-san, uh, can I help you?"

Akira shakes her head as she steps back from the straightened out desk. "Sorry, just, really bothers me." She tucks her hands behind her back before continuing, "I want a new uniform."

Kawakami gives her a once over, raising an incredulous brow. "Is there something wrong with your current one? It seems to fit just fine—"

"I want a men's uniform."

Kawakami stops at that. "Pardon?"

Akira scowls. "The whole school's already talking about me. Everyone knows what I used to do, among a million other things they've made up along the way. I'm not giving them anything else to gawk at. No skirts, no leggings, nothing."

"I… see." Kawakami's eyes drop to the floor for a moment. "I suppose I can have a boy's uniform in your size sent to Sakura-san's residence. I'll see about letting the other teachers know about your decision."

"Really? Not going to read me the Riot Act for violating dress code, or…?"

"Riot Act? No, I'm not going to… do whatever you just said. Shujin's never been too strict about dress code, something about 'promoting an image of exceptionalism through individuality'," Kawakami explains.

Akira blinks. "Huh. That's… surprisingly cool."

Kawakami laughs with her, and Akira feels a little closer to her homeroom teacher.

The nurse's office looks the same as it did two days ago, which shouldn't be a surprise to Akira but it still is. Something about the way Mishima looks in the bed with a compression bandage wrapped around his head had Akira feeling things should be… different.

"Feelin' better, Mishima-kun?" She asks from the door.

"AH!" The kid jumps halfway off the bed, staring at her like a deer in headlights. "K-Kurusu-san, what are you—"

Akira shakes her head. "Come on, kid, do I look like I'm here to shake you down for your lunch money?"

Mishima shrinks in on himself at that, saying, "Well, you were… arrested for assault, and even resisted arrest!" He lifts his head up at that, like he's looking down at her.

Akira cocks her head. "Everyone else is talking about the prostitution… who's talking about the resisting arrest charge?"

"I-It's nothing, nevermind!" He shakes his head, scratching at his scalp. He shakes his arms out, and Akira can't help but wonder how much nervous energy he has bottled up. "What are you doing here?"

Akira crosses her arms and closes the door. "Kid… Mishima-kun. Talk to me. What the hell is Kamoshida doing to you and the volleyball team?"

He shakes his head. "First Takamaki-san, now you? I-it's just practice!" His voice cracks with a keening whine.

"Just practice?" Akira raises an eyebrow. "He smashed you in the face in front of the entire school. You're acting like that's normal."

"Kamoshida-sensei, he trains us to be the best. He believes we have what it takes if we can just reach our potential!" He slams a fist onto the sheets of the infirmary bed, so… incensed and impassioned.

"Kid…" Akira sighs, "Mishima-kun, why do you believe in him so much? This isn't practice, that wasn't training when he aimed his spike at you. Why are you protecting him?"

"I…" Mishima looks away. "I don't have anything to say to you. I'm sorry, Kurusu-san."

"Alright. Feel better, Mishima."

Akira gingerly sips a can of Arginade in the Shujin Academy courtyard. It's always been her favorite beverage, to the point that she'd even googled it back in middle school. It was fun to learn that the whole drink owed its tagline 'contains real arginine' to a pun. Apparently, a Japanese CEO was a big fan of American sports, and his favorite football team was the Alligators. And then he wanted to create a drink specifically for the Alligators, the name of which on a Japanese tongue sounds like 'Arigetarus', and came up with Arginade. Somewhere along the line it was pitched to add arginine to the formula of the drink and BOOM! Arginade was born.

"Yo."

These are the kinds of thoughts running through Akira's head when Sakamoto Ryuji calls her out.

Akira raises a brow and then her can. "Yo."

Ryuji doesn't look her in the eye for a second, tapping his left toes against the floor. He scratches at the back of his head before he finds what he wants to say.

"What's up with you and Kamoshida? Everybody's talkin' about how you blew him off in the gym."

Akira shrugs. "What's there to say? Guy's a scumbag."

Ryuji scoffs, "Tch, no kiddin'. So like, if it's you, then what about—"

"What do you want with her?" The two turn to see Ann walking up, glaring at Ryuji.

"I don't want nothin', you wouldn't get it."

"You're not even in the same class as us, so what do you want?" Ann presses, Akira's head swiveling back and forth between them.

"This ain't got nothin' to do with you, Takamaki." Ryuji shuffles his feet. "So, you still all buddy-buddy with Kamoshida?"

Ann's eyes blow wide open at that. "Ex-cuse me!? What the hell is that supposed to mean!?"

Ryuji doesn't answer her, turning to Akira. "Listen, if you're really plannin' to do something about Kamoshida? Stay away from Takamaki, arright? She ain't gonna have your back against him, trust me."

He turns and walks away, but not before shooting Ann a nasty glare.

"Ugh, what is up with him! Like I'm on Kamoshida's side or something…"

Akira lets Ann get it out of her system before butting in, "I mean, you said he had beef with Kamoshida, right? And you two used to be friends?"

Ann grabs her arm with the other and sways in place. "I mean, we used to, but that was before everything went down. He changed after that."

"But from his perspective, you were the one who changed. Whatever his reason is, he thinks you'd pick Kamoshida over him for… something." Akira shrugs.

Ann sighs, "Well, if that was ever true before, it isn't now."

"Get anything out of Mishima-kun?"

Ann shakes her head. "No, and Shiho… she wouldn't tell me anything. What about you?"

Akira takes a sip from her can. "I paid him a visit, but he defended that bastard to the last. Poor kid."

"Maybe he thinks we're out to get him, or something. Do you think there's any way we could make him feel better?"

A chime from the speakers in the courtyard rings out. 'Attention, attention. All matches have concluded. Please get ready to go home for today…'

Akira shrugs her shoulder. "Maybe offer to walk him home?"

The girls catch Mishima at the entrance to the school with time to spare.

Ann waves him down with a smile. "Mishima-kun!"

The battered boy lifts his head, looking mostly confused as he stops in his tracks. "Takamaki-san?" He blinks at Akira next to her. "And, K-Kurusu-san…"

"Glad to see you're out of the infirmary," Ann says. "Feeling any better? You were pretty out of it when I got you there, so…"

Mishima backs up half a step, tucking his arms in as if to make himself smaller. "I'm… fine, I've had worse."

Akira crosses her arms. "So, he's done worse to you than smashing you to the court floor and giving you a concussion?"

He flinches, curling away even further. "That was just… because I'm not good at the sport," he says softly, ashamed.

"Soooo," Akira drawls, "he pushes you so hard because he thinks you have potential… but he beats you down for not being good enough yet? Does that really make sense to you, Mishima-kun?"

Mishima looks away at the floor. "That's—"

"What's going on here?" Kamoshida walks up, a frown on his face. "Mishima, isn't it time for practice?"

The boy answers quietly, "I-I'm not feeling well today…" Akira doesn't miss the way he curls further away from Kamoshida than he had from either of the girls.

"What?" Kamoshida sounds incredulous. "Maybe you're better off quitting then." His voice is tilted just so tauntingly that it's an obvious bait. "You're never going to improve that crappy form unless you show up for practice."

Akira steps forward, glaring up into his smug ugly chin. "Maybe all that whistleblowing's made you hard of hearing, John, but he's not feeling well. A concussion will do that to a person."

Kamoshida has the gall to smile at her. "I was actually hoping I'd get a chance to speak with you, Kurusu-san. After your performance at the rally today, I can tell that you'd make an excellent addition to the Shujin volleyball team." He even flashes a wide grin. "It would look great on your record to be participating in such constructive extracurriculars—"

"I'd rather choke, thanks!" Akira fires back her sweetest smile. "Ann-kun and I were just going to walk Mishi-kun home."

"Mishi-kun?"

"M-Mishi-kun!?"

Both guys responded, the boy himself sounding doubly incredulous at the nickname. Akira spins on her heel and takes his arm.

"Yep! Come on, Mishi-kun." He stumbles a bit in keeping pace with her, but voices no objections. Ann comes up beside them and they three head out the door.

Akira notes that she doesn't hear Kamoshida walking away, feeling his eyes on her back.

Once they've crossed Shujin's gates, Akira lets out a sigh of relief. "Sorry about that, but you are not going back to the torture chambers with a concussion."

"Why… why are you helping me? What are you trying to prove…?"

Ann looks at him with a sad, pitying look. "We want everyone to be safe. And Kamoshida—"

Mishima pulls his arm out of Akira's grasp. "You don't get it! Trying to prove anything is pointless!" He shouts, scratching at his head, pulling on a few strands. "Everyone knows and no one cares! Our parents, the principal, everyone just keeps quiet!"

"Are you kidding!?" Ann gasps.

"So why even bother trying!?"

Akira scowls, crossing her arms. "So you, Suzui-kun, all of your teammates. You all just… deserve to suffer like this? Because nobody's willing to help?"

"I—"

Ann stomps her foot. "I'm not going to just stand back and watch while my best friend gets beat by a teacher!"

"I'm sorry, I have to go!" Mishima takes off running. Ann moves to chase after him, but Akira grabs her arm.

When Ann shoots her a withering look, half furious and half betrayed, Akira shakes her head. "Let him go. He's dealing with this even more than we are, remember?"

Ann makes a noise that Akira can't decipher as a growl or a choke. "What are we supposed to do!? I can't—"

"We won't." Akira holds her stare. "John's going down, we're not going to let him hurt anyone else. We just have to figure out our options, okay?"

Ann sighs, her energy flickering through her so clearly Akira can almost see Carmen's flames. "I'm not letting him get away with this. Hurting Shiho, Mishima, anyone!"

Akira grins. "Patience, you must have, my young padawan. When we're ready to strike, he'll never see it coming."

A/N: Sorry that this chapter is late!

Next time, Akira shares a beef bowl with good company.

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