"Anger is a wind which blows out the lamp of the mind."
-Robert Ingersoll

The tryout was over in a few minutes. Coach Santos asked us to run three 100-meter laps. It was easy for me, it was cheese, yet I slowed my pace to give a decent lead to my opponents. And as always, I finished first, even though I was dressed in slacks and a white shirt, not like the others who were wearing their P.E. uniforms.

The coach was pretty much impressed, and told us that the official lineup of the track team will be announced two hours later. Bleh. Two hours. I wonder what I'll do to kill time.

I walked out of the garden, into the basketball court, where I supposed I would find Riku. And it was not long before I found my way strolling along the west fence towards my friend's location. I can hear girls practicing for the cheering squad, and the wolf-whistles of some guys who were peeking around to see them.

"Hey there, Haruka," Samuel, an acquaintance of mine from the karate club, signaled for me to come near him sitting behind a bush. "Take a look at those pretty ladies," he said almost drooling. He then pointed at the direction of the object of his…affections…

I cleared my throat and gave him a sinister look. "Sorry, but I'm not interested. I have better things to do than to look at girls."

Samuel gave me a lopsided grin. "Just take a peek buddy. I'm sure one of them will catch your fancy. Well, unless you're gay." An icy look was what I returned to him. "They're the hottest of the fresh people this year," he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Eww. Disgusting.

Wait a minute. Did he just say fresh?

"Samuel, did you just say fresh? As in freshies?"

"Yeah. What else? What'ya expectin' Haruka? 90-year old grannies?" he laughed, though he gulped nervously a second later as I crossed my arms and stepped closer to him.

"Ssh. Keep it down, will 'ya? Or Ms. Dickenson might catch us," a boy around two feet smaller than me, hushed us, while hiding from across another bush. "Look, the aquamarine girl's at it now."

Whoah.

Wait…

Aquamarine girl?

I took a glance towards the small backyard of the basketball court. And did a double take.

And did another take.

Moeko! My mind cried in surprise. It was her, my aquamarine goddess, doing cartwheels and exhibition stunts. So this was where she was off to…

I could only stare, no, gape…err, no, ogle…and drool on, as I watch her dancing gracefully in the open field. Those were just simple coordinated movements, but the way her body moved was…sensual. With her hair tied up in a bun, wearing a white top and a short skirt…she was absolutely stunning. Cheerleading was never this breathtaking. My heart was beating wildly, my pulse was irregular. My mind went into overdrive. I was thankful that I don't have heart ailments, or else, I would've died right there with a heart attack.

But paradise was soon lost when I heard the boy who had earlier shushed us, ask his friend, who was beside him, "Ooh, such beauty, such body. Isn't she so hot, Ricky?"

Perverts. I thought, and gritted my teeth as 'Ricky' replied, "Yeah, Nelson, I can feel her hands roaming all over my body, asking me to take her to heaven. Oh, yes." They both laughed at the malicious joke.

"Hey, nerds, get lost. Have a life. Stop staring at those cheerleaders," I was up and above them in a split-second.

"Look, buddy, pick another girl, okay? That one's ours. We've been stalking her since the first day," Ricky gave me a dismissive wave.

Nelson spoke dreamily, "Our sex goddess," and rubbed the front of his pants.

The moment the s-word came out, my head became clouded with rage, my face turning bright red from the intense anger, and the only thing I could see was red. I heard Samuel yell, "Haruka! Don't! Get low! They're looking towards us," but it all came to deaf ears as I picked up the two friggin' bastards like pesky kids and threw them harshly on the ground.

Ricky tried to hit me with his pathetic excuse of a punch, but it was too slow for me. I stepped to my left and gave him a hard blow to the stomach. He toppled over Nelson, who could only cry out in panic as he saw his friend's unconscious state.

"Please, man. Don't," he raised his hands in front of him.

I snorted. "Pft." As if that would protect him from me.

I came closer, slowly, walking like a brutal executioner, ready to take away the life of a convicted murderer. He was trying to edge away, his feet paralyzed with fear on what I would do to him.

I lifted him up from the ground with ease and held him at eye-contact. "Tell me, what did you call her again?" I asked with disdain. He couldn't speak, he was trembling, his face evident of dread.

Take back what you said, stupid wimp.

"What did you call her?" I punched him in the gut. But he was still speechless.

My nose was flaring. And I imagined smoke coming out from my ears.

Disgusting little piece of crap…

I punched him again. This time, with more force.

"Answer me! WHAT. DID. YOU. CALL. HER. AGAIN?" I spat out the words. He was now crying, and already peed on his pants.

I was about to pummel Nelson into dust, when I felt Samuel's hands on my right arm. He came in front of me and shook his head in disagreement. "He's not worth it, Haruka."

Then I heard someone yell in an authoritative voice, "Stop there, young man!"

Ms. Dickenson, the school's gymnastics teacher, appeared behind us with a few guards at hand. "What do you think you're doing, Mr. Tenoh?" she asked calmly, but both her hands were at her hips.

"Nothing ma'am, nothing." I muttered under my breath and released the death grip I had on Nelson. He crashed on the ground and whimpered like a coward. Meanwhile, Samuel tried to explain the situation to Ms. Dickenson, but was brushed off gently.

She asked us to follow her to the dean's office. "Explain your dealings with the dean, Mr. Sanchez and Mr. Tenoh."

"Oh shit. This is not good," Samuel cursed as we followed the professor's lead. I managed to steal a glance to where Moeko was, and I saw her disapproving look.

Our eyes met briefly once again, but I grimaced in humiliation. She dropped down her gaze and smiled sadly.

Baka, Haruka. You idiot!

I almost banged my head on the pavement.

Author's Notes:

Michiru as a cheerleader…hmmm…

Reference:

Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) was the foremost orator and political speechmaker of late 19th century America -- perhaps the best-known American of the post-Civil War era.

Disclaimer:

Haruka, Michiru, and the rest of the BSSM gang belong to Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just borrowing them for a little while.
Mr. Ingersoll owns his quote.