Disclaimer: Digimon is not mine.
Chapter Fifteen: I Kicked Some Ass Today: T.K.'s Story……………………………………………………………
It's my first day back to school. Lunch has just ended, and I'm on my way to third period, science. It's July 12th, the day students were expected to go back, and everything is going along as planned. So far.
Everyone had been pretty shocked to discover that Odaiba High had been burned down. Police are suspecting arson, but since they have no real suspects or evidence, (plus the knowledge that basically everyone wanted that hellhole gone), Kari and I really have no reason to worry.
So now, we are using the public high school across town. Their school ended in June, without incident, so we have been granted permission to use it in order to finish up our final week of classes. Only four days left (counting today) until exams, and then I'm home free. Finally, it will be summer vacation! If only it were starting on a happier note, I could really enjoy it. But who knows what this week will bring. I don't know for sure, but something tells me it will be quite interesting.
I'm walking down the hall with my friend, Ashley, in search of our classroom. Ashley has blonde hair (dyed, but it still looks good nonetheless), calm blue eyes, long legs and a great tan. She's really very pretty, but I don't pay that much attention to her. Sure, she's a knock-out, but I don't think she's half as pretty as Kari. About half the guys in the school are pining after her, drooling like dogs, while the other half is boasting and spreading rumors about how they've been with her, and how amazing it was. In these rumors, she does some not-so-nice things, which is what leads me to believe that they are not true. Ash is a pretty great friend to have. She is smart, witty, and knows how to take a joke. She and I are in the same class, and apparently, we both suck at finding our way around this new, unfamiliar school. Suddenly, I hear a noise from behind us.
It is not just any noise. It is a noise that makes me stop dead in my tracks, a noise that causes my heart to race. Ashley jumps about two feet in the air and drops her books. They make a loud noise as they smash against the ground, but neither of us notice. We are too busy focusing on the noises behind us, the noises that are about ten times louder than the one her books made. She grabs onto my arm and presses herself flat against the locker. I'm convinced she is trying to disappear or blend right into the wall. I contemplate telling her that, certainly, it will not happen. The thought is pushed from my mind as we hear the noise again.
BANG
"Oh my God, T.K.," Ashley whispers, "It's not…it's not happening again, is it?" I can hear the fear in her voice and feel her nails dig into my arm.
"No," I shrug, trying to reassure her. Or maybe I'm doing it for myself. Either way, I really don't think it's working that well. "There are a ton of things that could be making that noise. It doesn't mean that…you know." I don't think either of us believes what I said is the truth, but it sure was what we need to hear.
I see her nodding out of the corner of my eye, but she doesn't loosen her grip. We stand there, me clutching my books and her clutching my arm, for a couple seconds. It feels like a couple hours to me, though.
Then I see it. Four kids are running down the hall, coming right at us. They are wearing ski masks. Ashley's grip—if possible—gets tighter around my wrist. By now, I'm sure, I will have five tiny cuts in my wrist from where she is gripping me. Man, I wish she was the type who bit their nails.
But something isn't right about it. It doesn't seem real…not like it did that day at Odaiba High. That day, I had wished it wasn't really happening, but it was. This time, I don't get that feeling. I don't think it is happening, and I don't really know what to do with that. Should I be relieved, or should I be royally pissed beyond belief?
I can see that they are holding guns, but they aren't real ones. They are cheap, dollar store guns. The plastic kind, the ones with the orange ring around the shaft used to distinguish them from real ones. They are laughing and drawing attention to themselves, as if this is some big joke. As if it was simply hilarious that a ton of people died and even more were injured.
I suddenly don't have to decide. I know I'm pissed.
My blood boils, and I know what was coming. I can't stop it, nor do I want to. I grit my teeth. My breathing is now sharp and irregular.
All I can imagine is Kari, and the rest of my friends in the school. How will they react to this, if they see it? I picture poor Kari, sitting in her classroom trying to forget all of the images of that day, when these losers bust in with their toy guns. She will probably have a heart attack. She will be freaked out of her mind, crying and shaking, thinking that it's happened again.
I vow to myself that I will kill them if they ever do that to her. Hell, I'll do it even if they don't do that to her.
I rip my arm from Ashley's grip (pain ensues, and although I don't look down, I'm sure I'm bleeding by now) and fling myself in their path, just as they come to pass us. I ball my fists and send a sharp right hook into one of the guy's faces. He falls backward on his ass, due to the impact.
The others just stop, kind of in shock. I grab another one and shove him into the lockers. Ashley screams, but I pay no attention. He tries to punch me, in self-defense, but my sharp reflexes kick in and I duck. I wind up getting a punch in before he even knows that it's coming. I punch him in the face, over and over, each blow being fiercer than the last. His nose is busted and bleeding now, but I don't stop. (Truthfully, I'm not sure I could stop, but it doesn't matter since I'm not going to try.)
A third one comes up from behind and pulls me off of his friend. I turn around to face him, having no reluctance to kick this joker's ass as well. He swings, but misses. I'm bigger, faster, stronger. I can take him without even breaking a sweat. I am tempted to take pity on him (he looks like the type who has been roped into this by his friends and is scared shitless) but then he catches me off guard. He gives me a swift left hook, and although it isn't too powerful, it stuns me for a second. All pity I was feeling for this little shit melts away as my anger rises to an even higher level. It is practically skyrocketing now, but that's his problem, not mine.
I punch him hard in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. He doubles over and I kick him in his stomach. He rolls over and I kick him again. This guy, who is definitely the scrawniest of the foursome, goes down without much of a fight. But then again, the rest of them haven't exactly given me a run for my money either.
Ashley is still yelling something, and I still don't care. She pleads with me to just forget about them, telling me they aren't worth it. She's right, I know she is, but that doesn't stop me, or even deter me in the least. I want to kill them all with my bare hands. I will make up for the fact that I did not have the pleasure of killing the real shooters by doing these ones in, instead.
The fourth and final guy takes off in the other direction, not wanting the beating I just inflicted on his asshole friends. I chase after him, not willing to let him get away. I run faster and faster, slowly gaining on him. My years on the basketball team have built my strength and endurance. I can run for a long time, probably longer than he can. I will run until he gives up, which appears to be soon by the tired strides he is making down the hall now (he is probably tired from running through them with his bastard pals just moments ago).
I will catch this fucker if it is the last thing I ever do. I lunge, and take the guy down with me. He lands on the floor hard, and I land on top of him. I sit up quickly as he turns around to face me and slug him in the jaw. His head cracks against the tiles of the floor, and I still don't let up.
I want to hurt him more than I've ever wanted to hurt someone before. Not only is he an insensitive creep for doing something like this, but he is a coward for running away and not even accepting what he had coming to him. Since he refuses to suck it up and take it like a man, I will make him cry like the little girl that he is.
Ashley comes up behind me and tries to pull me off. I don't stop. Desperate, she slaps me hard across the face. I snap out of the little trance I'm in, and looked up at her in shock. There are tears forming in not-so-calm blue eyes, and her blonde hair is messed up like she was burying her hands in it while she screamed at me. She drops onto her knees (a position that, if the rumors are true, she spends quite a bit of time in) and sinks down beside me. She runs her hand over my cheek, which has a very visible red mark forming on it from where she slapped me.
"Sorry," she whispers, still looking totally freaked. I guess my opinion of her was wrong. She can take a joke about as well as I can.
I look around, and see that people are piling out of their classes to see what the noise is. A small crowd has already formed from when the "shots" had rung out, but nobody in that group had bothered to pull me off of the guys. They probably want to do the same thing, so decided they had no right to interfere and ruin my fun.
As a teacher pulls me off the kid and drags me down to the principal's office, I hear a random kid yell, "T.K. opened up a can of whoop-ass!"
……………………………………………………………
"What were you thinking, Takeru?" Principal Nagasi asks me.
"What was I thinking? Are you kidding me? These freaks are running around the school with ski masks and guns and I'm the one sitting in the principal's office?" I protest, raising my voice. I'm fully aware that I am yelling at the principal, but I don't give a damn. She is being totally unreasonable!
"They aren't here because they're at the hospital! In total, you caused one broken nose, six black eyes, two concussions, five broken ribs and a fractured wrist!"
I smirk at this. I'm actually impressed with myself. I had no idea I could kick so much ass.
"They deserved it," I state, meeting her gaze.
"Takeru, this isn't like you. You're a good student, very helpful and polite and friendly. Normally, you're the one who breaks up the fights, not the one who starts them," she explains.
"Well normally there aren't sick, perverted assholes running around with guns acting like what happened was just a big joke," I snap.
She doesn't yell at me, or tell me that that is no way to talk to authority figures. She just lets me talk, as if this is some kind of therapy session or something. Clearly, this principal is delusional and not fit to run our school. After all, being principal is an important job. It's not just a figurehead position.
"Look, I understand that you've been through a very traumatic experience…we all have. But we have to go on like nothing happened; we have to be strong for each other. I'm aware that Hikari's brother, Taichi, is in rough shape and I just think that—"
"That is not what this is about!" I scream, interrupting her. "That has nothing to do with what happened." The world has gone crazy. How can they not see that what I did was right? Okay, maybe not right, but it doesn't even begin to compare to what they did. Do they really not see that? "Am I the only one who realizes that what those little shits did was totally twisted, and that they deserved to be locked away in some detention centre with other kids just like them?"
If I was mad before, I'm absolutely furious now. How dare she bring Tai into this? She doesn't even know Tai. Sure, she was his principal once, too, but that doesn't mean anything. Just because she had been his principal doesn't mean she is his friend. It doesn't mean she knows him, just like she doesn't know me.
"I agree, but that doesn't change anything. What those boys did was incredibly wrong and inappropriate, yes. I can assure you that they will be dealt with accordingly, but you have to take responsibility for your own actions," she tells me. "Now, it would be silly to suspend you since there is only a week left and we're already hurrying to make up for lost time. So instead, you will serve two weeks detention with me after the school year is complete."
"But Principal Nagasi, that's totally unfair," I protest. She holds her hand out to silence me.
"I don't care, it's out of your hands. I don't like it any more than you do. I'm giving up my vacation, too. Violence is never the answer and you should know that. I've tried to reach your parents, but they weren't home. I left a message on your answering machine, but to ensure that they get it I'll be calling them again soon."
She pauses for effect, which I find rather hilarious. I'm shaking in my boots, I think to myself. Her seriousness over the matter is truly laughable. After waiting the appropriate amount of time, she continues.
"You may go now, Takeru."
I fight an eye roll as she says 'Takeru'. She is the only adult, my parents included, who ever calls me Takeru. I have a theory that she just does it to sound intimidating. Using my full name must make her feel special, I guess. Personally, I think it was stupid. I don't call her by her full name; I call her Principal Nagasi like she wants me to. Why can't she just call me T.K., like I want her to?
I stand up and start towards the door when she gives me her final statement.
"I expect to see you at your detentions, Takeru. This is the only time I'm going to tell you," she warns. I stop walking, but don't turn around.
"Whatever," I say.
"Takeru," she says sternly, to let me know there is no room for debate. I grin, seeing that I'm getting to her.
"I'll see you in September, when school starts up again," I say, hinting that I'm not going to be showing up at our little detention dates anytime soon. I want to turn around so I can see her expression, but I won't let myself give in and turn.
"I hate to do this, I really do, but you leave me no choice. If you don't show up for detention, don't bother showing up for grade twelve," she finalizes.
I snort. Yeah, like she can really expel me for this.
Principal Hard-Ass continues with her incessant babbling. "I'm serious, Takeru. You either attend your detentions, or I'll be forced to expel you from Odaiba High."
This time I really do roll my eyes. She doesn't see it though, and part of me wishes she did. I turn to face her, and issue her my final statement.
"If you're going to punish me for what I believe in, so be it. If this is the way you're running things, I don't want to attend this school anyway. I did the right thing, and I refuse to let you tell me otherwise."
……………………………………………………………
It's now a few hours later, and I'm home alone. My parents left this afternoon, slightly before my fight, to visit my grandparents a few towns away. Matt is no doubt hanging out with Mimi, over at her house. I'm relaxing on my couch, still on a rush from what transpired at school, when Kari bursts through my front door. She looks totally pissed. I jump up from the couch and unconsciously back up a bit.
My first thought is, 'Shit!' and my second is 'I need to learn how to lock the door.' My third, and probably most reasonable one, is 'I wish that someone were at home with me.' But since they are all detained at the moment, I'm all by myself and about to face the wrath of Kari. It's a very scary thing, actually.
She might not look it, but that girl sure packs a punch.
"Oh my God! How the hell did this happen, T.K.? I can't believe it; it's just so…unbelievable! I'm so furious right now, I mean, you have no idea!" Kari screams as she slams the door behind her. I back up a bit more. If I'm not careful, she's going to corner me.
I hang my head, afraid to meet her eyes. Clearly she is angry, and her anger is directed solely at me. For the first time, I almost regret what I did. Almost.
"Look, Kari, I'm sorry that you're mad but they deserved it. I mean, what was I supposed to do? Just stand by and let them run through the school like that? All I could think about was what if they decided to go into your classroom, and what would happen to you," I explain. I pray that she will take pity on me.
She looks up at me, looking slightly more confused but definitely not less angry.
"What are you talking about?" she asks me. I open my mouth to respond, but she keeps going. "T.K., I don't care about what you did. I'm proud of you, for standing up to them like that."
"Then what are you mad about?" I ask, shocked that I'm not the cause of her foul mood.
"I'm mad because nobody told me what was going on! I had to hear about it in fourth period from Shawn, who was in the crowd of people that watched the whole thing. I'm mad because that damned principal is going to expel you, all because you didn't let those idiots wreak havoc on the school!"
I am at a loss as to how she found all this out. How did she know that I was going to get expelled? Word must travel fast around our high school. But then again, isn't it like that at every school?
"So, you're not mad at me?" I ask in a small, uneasy voice. She shakes her head, and her expression softens.
"No, I'm not mad at you. I'm the opposite of mad. I'm, like, amazed by you," she says before kissing me.
"You know, the opposite of mad isn't amazed," I tease when we break apart.
"Oh, really?" She asks with a similar smile on her face.
"Really," I confirm.
"Well then, Mr. Smarty Pants," she says as she wraps her arms around my neck, "what is the opposite of mad?" I think for a moment. I have no clue.
"Well, it's definitely not amazed," I say before kissing her again. She laughs and the kiss grows more intense.
I push her against the wall, pressing our bodies together. Her hands make their way into my hair, running her fingers through my blonde locks. Mine remain firmly on her lower back. After a while, her hands start to wander. They make their way to the hem of my shirt, which she hastily pulls over my head.
I would have thought nothing of it, but this time is different than our other make out sessions. The way she is kissing me is different than it has been in the past. It isn't slow and nice; it's hurried and passionate and intense. I have a feeling I know where this is going to wind up, but say nothing of it incase I'm wrong.
My hands travel up the back of her shirt, hers run across my chest. She grabs my face and pulls it even closer, crushing her lips against mine. I admit, I am no longer thinking clearly. My hormones are getting the best of me, and like every other teenage boy, I only have one thing on my mind. My hands grab at the bottom of her shirt and, with one quick motion, I bring it up over her head. She doesn't stop me, or even try to. Instead, she continues kissing me even harder than before, and I throw her shirt somewhere behind me. My hands find their way to her breasts. God, I love those things.
This is nothing more than an innocent make out session, I tell myself. Quit thinking like that, T.K.! It isn't going to happen right now. She says she isn't pissed, but she is a little bit. There's no way she's going to –
She moans against my mouth and her hands grasp my belt and she hastily undoes it.
Thank God. I'm dying here.
"T.K.," she whispers as one of my hands reach around her and find the clasp of her bra. "I want you..."
Well, that's something I don't hear everyday.
I pull away and look at her. I raise an eyebrow, my way of asking her if she knows what she's doing without actually having to ask her.
She nods and smiles shyly.
Maybe she doesn't mean it the way I'm thinking she did. (But what other way can she mean it?) Maybe I'm jumping to conclusions and I'm going to wind up with a handprint on my face in a minute because I'm making assumptions. (But she looks like she means business.) Maybe she isn't ready. (But we've done everything else there is to do...)
"Are you sure?" I whisper. Our breathing is heavy, and I don't think it's due to the lack of air. Well, not totally.
"Yeah," she whispers back. I don't really know why we are whispering, since nobody else is home, but whatever. That's definitely not the part I'm focusing on. "Unless you don't want to," she teases.
"No," I say quickly, perhaps too quickly. "I want to, trust me." She laughs for a quick second, but then her smile fades and turns into a serious expression.
Our lips make contact again and her hands find their way back to my jeans. She unbuttons and unzips them.
"I heard you kicked some ass today," she says between chaste kisses as I unclasp her bra and search for the zipper to her skirt.
……………………………………………………………
My parents come home four hours later. Kari is already gone. Thank God. I don't even want to think about how the situation would have played out if they had come home earlier.
I tell them everything about the "incident" at school. I tell them the entire story, just the way it happened. I go through every punch thrown, every word spoken, from the first gunshot right up to the time I left the principal's office. I don't try to sugarcoat it or exaggerate in any way. The way I see it, I have nothing to hide. I didn't do anything wrong, so I don't really have any reason to worry.
My mother is a mix of emotions: shocked and upset. She said, and I quote: "Never in a million years would I have expected this from you! I thought you knew better than to get into fights!" She goes on to say that I'm "a good kid, and I was not raised in a barn." She then goes through the basic parental-lecture etiquette. My dad stays silent, probably waiting for his turn to blast me.
"Did you even stop to think about the consequences? T.K., you could be expelled from your high school! And with only one year left…what a waste. What does Kari think of all this?" I almost laugh at her last question. She thinks she is so swift bringing Kari into this. She truly thinks that dear, sweet Kari is her ally. Well she isn't, Mom, I say to myself. And she's anything but sweet.
I don't tell her that Kari was pleased, even impressed, with me. I don't tell her that she stands by me, and that my mother should, too. I don't say any of the things I want to say in response to my mother's interrogation. I leave Kari out of it, because it doesn't involve Kari. Not really.
"What if you had gotten hurt? I don't know what I would do if you ended up like those other boys." Her eyes fill with tears and I feel guilty. Not for what I've done, but for the way it's affected my mom. "And what if it hadn't been a prank? What if it had been real? You got lucky the first time, but T.K., what if this time was different? What if…" she breaks off, sobbing like crazy now.
I hate myself. I officially, completely, undisputedly loathe myself. I have reduced my mother to tears. Hysterical tears. I didn't even think about that kind of stuff in the heat of the moment. I didn't consider that something like that could have happen. I didn't think of the consequences, I just acted.
I slide down my bed to the opposite end, where she was sitting, and wrap my arms around my mom. I have seen her cry before, but never like this. These are tears of anxiety, desperation. There are the tears she should be shedding if I had gotten shot. Not tears she should shed because I'm safe and sound and only facing a little expulsion.
Getting expelled seems like a huge thing. But in the big picture, it really isn't. Losing your place in your school isn't that terrible. Losing your place in life...now that's something worth a second thought.
"So, what are you going to do?" she inquires quietly after she calms down a little.
"About what?" I ask, genuinely confused.
"About these detentions you've been issued. Are you going to go, or not?" I stare at her as if she has two heads. I didn't think I really had a choice. Sure, I was all talk when I was with Principal Nagasi, but I figured my parents would drag me there kicking and screaming whether I wanted to or not. I really have a choice? I pause for a second before giving my answer. This is one of the most important decisions I've ever had to make in my seventeen years of life.
"I'm not going to go," I conclude. She looks disappointed, but she does not object.
"Okay." She nods solemnly.
"Really? You're really okay with that? I mean, you aren't mad or anything?"
"Of course I'm not happy with you're decision, but what can I do? You're seventeen, almost eighteen. You're growing up and I can't do anything to slow you down. Suddenly you aren't my baby boy anymore. You're a man, and I'm losing you to the world. You make your own decisions. Some of them are bad, but for the most part, they're wonderful. You're brave and selfless and good. So if you don't think you did anything wrong, then who am I to say that you did? If you want to leave your friends, teachers, school and Kari behind, then it isn't really my place to try and stop you. I'll stand by you no matter what, T.K. We both will," she says, looking at my dad.
"I don't want to leave, but I don't want to stay either. And my wanting to stay just isn't as strong, I guess. I can just transfer to the public high school. Everything will be fine," I tell my parents. My mother nods, and looks at my dad. It's his time to talk now, I suppose. Only he doesn't talk. Not really. I stand up from my bed and face him. Man to man. I'm ready to take anything he wants to dish out, because I'm ready for it.
He stares at me for a few seconds before he breaks out into a grin. I'm kind of surprised, but I don't show it. He walks over to me and slaps me on the back.
"This is some serious shit you've gotten yourself into," he says. I heard my mother sigh as he says 'shit.' She hates it when any of us swear around her. I guess she'd much rather we do it behind her back, so she can pretend we don't do it at all. Ignorance is bliss, right?
I laugh and nod, not breaking the eye contact. Part of me is relieved, but part of me if waiting for him to scream: "I got you! You think you aren't in trouble, but you're wrong. You are so dead, T.K." But he doesn't. He is genuinely giddy about the situation. His manner is almost laughable, seeing a grown man practically skipping and giggling. "I'm proud of you, son."
My mother scowls and tells him not to encourage me. Frankly, she can say whatever she wants. Even if he takes the words back right now, just to please her, I won't mind. He's already said them once, and once is enough. My dad is proud of me. Of me.Sure, he's been proud of me before, like when I made the basketball team, or when I practically carried that team through the championships and scored almost forty points in the final game, but that is different. That doesn't matter, not like this does.
My dad merely laughs in response to my mom.
"You did good, kid. But no more fights, okay?" With that, he walks out of my room, leaving me alone with my mother. She pats the bed beside her and I sit down. We sit there in silence for several minutes, until she turns to face me.
She reaches out and lifts my short sleeve up my shoulder. I don't ask what she's doing; I know. She runs her fingers gently over my scar. The scar from where the bullet grazed me that day at school. It wasn't too serious; it has healed pretty quickly and is now only a scar. It's still a bit tender, but not too much. Besides, she's touching me so softly that I can barely feel her fingertips on me at all. I can see fresh tears forming in her eyes. I can't stand seeing Mom cry. I move quickly to halt them.
"It's okay, Mom. I'm fine. See? I'm okay. I'll never do anything this stupid again, I promise. But I had to do it, and I stand by what I did. I don't regret it, and I never will. I'm sorry if you're disappointed in me, but it wasn't your decision to make. You can't protect me forever, you know."
"Yeah, I know. But I can try," she says with a small laugh.
"I love you, Mom." She looks at me, the corners of her lips tugging into a tight smile. This is the first time I've told her I love her without her saying it first. Well, I'm not sure about that, but it's pretty likely. It means a lot to her, I can tell. I make a mental note to say it more. I realize I don't say it nearly enough.
"I love you, too. No matter what crazy, stupid, inconsiderate, dangerous, reckless, utterly ridiculous thing you do," she says, her smile growing wider. She messes up my hair, and stands up from my bed. "And I could never be disappointed in you."
"Thanks," I say as she walks over to my door. She's about to leave when she stops and turns back around. I raise an eyebrow at the sly expression on her face.
"I'm proud of what you did, T.K. You stood up for yourself and didn't back down, even when you were threatened with expulsion. I know I shouldn't be saying this, but those boys deserved what they got," she tells me in a low voice. I smile, and her expression turns serious. "But if you ever tell your father that, you won't live to see your next fight. Got it?"
I laugh and say that my lips are sealed. She winks and walks into the hallway.
"And Mom?" I call. She pokes her head back in my room. "You're never going to lose me."
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