Assignment 3: Mondo and Fuyuhiko

(At each other's throats)

Welcome to the 3rd act in a five-act play. Perhaps you've already pieced together the end goal of this prologue. If you have, hats off to you. One must wonder what end goal requires this much planning, however. To understand this, we must retrace the third pair of steps, intertwined – but rather than drawn together by love or business, they are drawn into the only other strand of fate that exists in our world. For Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu and Mondo Owada will be bound by hate.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu was called in fifth, along with what seemed to be another criminal. Walking down the corridor four other pairs had waltzed along before, he noted how garish and stupid that odd pompadour looked on top of Mondo Owada's head.

"Tch." He announced, unknowingly lighting a fuse.

"What was that? You sound angry." Mondo glared down at him, a shade cast over his eyes by that goofy hairdo.

"This whole thing is a buncha bullshit. They put us together because we've been in the lockup and for no reason else."

"What did you expect exactly? They were gonna match you with Hifumi or Hagakurae? Yeah, right. You and Chihiro would've been good matches, you're both midgets."

"What was that, you dipshit?!" Fuyuhiko's height was not something he liked pointed out.

"Funny, can't hear you up here." There was no sarcasm or hint of the statement being a joke in Mondo's tone. It was entirely nonchalant, down to the way he put his hands in his pockets and rolled his neck upwards.

"What was that, bastard?!" Fuyuhiko had begun to blow his top and they had hardly been chatting a minute. But then again, one supposes there was bound to be friction there from the beginning. The Crazy Diamonds and Kuzuryuu clan weren't exactly on great terms. Violent clashes for turf and reputation, stolen product and drag races that ended in bloodshed had peppered the pasts of both factions – Mondo and Fuyuhiko were both well aware of this, it had caused a friction, slightly tangible to pull between them, their gazes unable to be removed from one another for fear the other would try something underhanded out of spite and bad blood.

"I'll ask you to repeat what you just said." Both stood stock still, looking at each other with hatred from conflict past that had not even shown its hand or invited them to get involved, but left them bitter and angry anyway. It was as if two gunmen were waiting for high noon to strike on the dull tones of a clock.

"Why should I, you little shit?"

"Because I refuse to be talked down to from a man who has no honour in his blood!"

"You wanna talk honour you little fuck?! How about you talk honour to my men you and your lackeys steal from, bully and brute force into giving what's theirs away?!"

"Oh, so it's my fault my family decided to collect debts from a group of delinquents who refused to fucking pay them?!"

"Delinquents?! The Crazy Diamonds share a bond you and your high and mighty family wish they fucking had!"

"A bond?! If riding around the streets all day with no end goal in sight is a 'bond' then any group of pissed drunkards could claim to be a fucking gang!"

"The fuck are you implying?!"

"Are you stupid? Has the exhaust fumes from those bikes finally fucked up your brain hard enough? You're just a group of organised alcoholics and junkies, led by a guy who was turned in roadkill because of you!" Fuyuhiko intentionally shot below the belt, feeling his anger at himself and his family being insulted too much too handle.

Of course, I should intercede and state that the death of Daiya Owada was very much known to crime families and delinquents across the nation, but only those with as much as a clutch of iron on elements within the police force would have such innate knowledge of what occurred as the Kuzuryuus. Fuyuhiko, due to his position within their ranks, would've been privy to such knowledge – and therefore be able to weaponise it against an aggressor.

"Why you little-!" Mondo hadn't felt this seething, white-hot anger in years. His malice was contented to lie down and take a rest when he met Taka and Chihiro, as it was rarely stoked by the two people he so loved to spend time with. It had long laid dormant and ponderous and when stoked, it seemed to consume Mondo's body. And so it happened that Mondo flung himself at Fuyuhiko, desperate to defend the honour of his gang and brother. He felt the smaller boy's body hit the floor and was satisfied with the hollow 'thunk' Fuyuhiko's skull sounded out when it hit the floor. "Die!" Mondo screeched, raising his fist high above his head and sending it crashing into Fuyuhiko's face. The amount of pleasure Mondo gained when his knuckle connected with Fuyuhiko's cheek was overwhelming – and most likely would've scared any onlooker. Adrenaline coursed throughout his body, an odd feeling (one would tend to describe as a shot of energy straight through one's stomach that dissipated to the surrounding areas of one's body) but one that brought him immense happiness nonetheless. It was a deep, almost carnal spur that formed that venomous grin, those rock-hard punches and the raw rage in Mondo's eyes. But that wild and beastly energy soon subsided as Mondo felt an uppercut directly to his gut draw the air from his lungs.

Fuyuhiko stood up and brushed the dirt off of the shoulder of his black suit, now mottled with specks of blood here and there. Mondo lay on the ground, reeling and winded from the powerful punch Fuyuhiko had landed while under the fury of Mondo's assault. "Don't ever fucking speak to me again, bastard," Fuyuhiko spoke icily and without compare, his oration as sharp and calm as a warrior's sword. He capped this brimming confidence off with a hardy point of his index finger. Despite the blood dribbling from his mouth and nose, he managed to look intimidating and strong, a David triumphing against his own Goliath. He slipped his hands into his pockets, produced some shutter shades that were as white as swan's down, slid them on and walked out, the winter sun casting a corona around his head.

Mondo stood up, his head swimming with agony and anger. He was beaten down by a manlet. He wouldn't forget that – much like a fake identity given to you by the world's greatest soldier, he would carry that with him wherever he went. Dusting himself off, he began to make his way to the back exit of the academy, eager to put distance between himself and the tiny terror. As he was approaching the doors, Ishimaru's loud, slightly obnoxious voice sounded throughout the corridor. "Hey, bro!" He yelled. Mondo was about to reply, drawing in breath to do so, but then an even louder voice reverberated around them. "MY NAME IS NEKOMARU NIDAI! NICE TO MEET YOU MONDO!" It was a voice that belonged to a video game character who spoke in all caps (in fact, he does, despite my reluctance) and made Mondo stagger backwards a bit.

"'Sup bro, 'sup big guy." Mondo looked at the towering form of the man who had introduced himself as Nekomaru – as he very well deserved the title of man with his shapely body – and warmed to him. He was a fan of the little guy, but he decided immediately this hulking tower of testosterone was actually a rather pleasant person if a little loud.

"Bro, this is my assigned partner! Isn't he great? He's a leader and a doer, much like myself!"

"Yeah, you two could really use a mute button. Jesus, I'll be fucked if there's a person on this planet louder than the muscle over there."

"Thank you! I take great pride in my ability to motivate through my voice!"

"Well, I'm not sure I'd call it motivational, but you do you." Mondo flashed a thumbs up at Nekomaru, who grinned wildly at this acceptance of friendship.

"How's your partner bro? I don't see him slash her. Gone to get started already? What a model student!"
"I beat the fuck outta him until he was bloody and raw."

"Um," began Ishimaru.

"Ask me about that and I'll do the same to you. Less said, less internal organ damage I'll have to knock into ya later on."

"… I really wish someone were here to break this awkward silence right about now!" Nekomaru screamed. As if on cue, as if some magical God were typing words onto a page to have the timeline he might have made a pig's ear out of in the very first chapter (which he somewhat regrets writing first due to his passion for the characters involved in the aforementioned chapter) match up, Chihiro walked through the door.

"Well, how do I explain this..?" Fuyuhiko began, sitting on one of the rigid and uncomfortable stools in the chemistry lab. "My partner is a complete asshole who wants me dead and now I need you to fix the damage done to my face so someone like Komaeda or Kazuichi can't say I look like I was hit by a truck."

"I-I just asked you if your day was going well…" Mikan stuttered through her sentence, as she normally did.

"Yeah, well just do that… Ultimate Nurse shit and make the ouch go away."

"How did I you know I would be in the chemistry lab?"

"I decided either you're a chemist or a meth cook when it comes to what you do up here and since I don't see much evidence of chemistry up here, I'm assuming the only 'medicine' you make is the kind that I could buy in a back alley."
"Eee! I'm sorry… but I really do make medicines up here! H-here! This one is an advanced pain-killer! Drink up!" Mikan produced a flask labelled 'Oh my God everything is numb' and pressed it against Fuyuhiko's lips. He pushed it away hastily with a finger.

"I-I'm not drinking that."

"Wh-why not? I'm so sorrrryyyy!" Mikan sniffled.

"Ugh. Gimme the flask. But only because I trust your talent and don't wanna hear you whine." Fuyuhiko snatched the flash from Mikan's hands with a quick wrist movement, causing her to gasp lightly. He swigged the solution, then stood up.

"Well, thanks for that."
"You're welcome!" Mikan smiled a fragile, delicate smile. "Before you go, did you hear about Hajime?"

Fuyuhiko stopped walking and turned just his neck around to stare at Mikan, so only a single eye glared at her. "What about him?"

"E-Eek! F-Forget I said a-anything! I pr-probably shouldn't have told you about iiiit! I'm sorry!" Mikan wailed and began to cry. Fuyuhiko sighed, annoyed at Mikan's fragility.

"I'll just ask him myself. See ya." He walked out of the chemistry lab, his fingertips and nose already feeling numb because of the painkilling solution.

Mondo grabbed Chihiro by the neck and pulled him close, always happy to see his cute little form. "Heya, kid." He told him, ruffling that light-as-cloud hairdo of his. Chihiro blushed slightly and Kiyotaka gave him the usual "Hey, Chihiro!" with that stupidly large grin of his. Unfortunately, Nekomaru may not have associated Chihiro's looks with his frailty as he bellowed like a foghorn, "HI THERE! THE NAME'S NEKOMARU NIDAI!" Chihiro looked shook and went an even rosier shade of pink – though as Mondo noted he had already come through the doors looking quite flushed. He pondered on this for a second then discarded the thought, in much the same way as one would the wrapper off a piece of gum.

"O-oh my. Ummm, hello. My name's Chihiro Fujisaki. That's quite an introduction." Chihiro collected himself – something Mondo had taught him how to do – and spoke with courtesy and light tone to Nekomaru.

"Yeah. I like to make impressions, y'know?" Nekomaru almost seemed as if he were shrugging off the greeting, oddly nonchalant and passive – he had changed his tone to reflect the person he was speaking to, Mondo observed. That was how he had earned the talent he had – he was a people person, it seemed.

"My bro and Nekomaru hit it off the moment they met. You can tell why." Mondo looked down at Chihiro, still held close to his body and felt the soreness of earlier events seem to melt away.

"Where's your partner, Mondo?" Chihiro asked, tilting his head to one side. Mondo felt his mouth go dry. He didn't want to tell Chihiro he had violently lashed out and beat Fuyuhiko, that would ruin his chances of Chihiro ever training with him again.

"Ugh, I got put with Fuyuhiko. That fuckin' brat could use a beatdown, giving me lip like that." Mondo chose his words carefully as if he were hopping on spear-tips and could not flatten his feet for fear of being skewered. He said 'could use' rather than 'received', catching the attention of Kiyotaka, who seemed ready to correct this already sold contradiction until Mondo shot him a dirty look.

"I'm sure he's not that bad, Mondo." Chihiro was as optimistic about strangers as he ever was, always giving that small smile that radiated goodwill.

"You're way too soft, kid."

"C'mon bro, why can't you just get along with people!" Mondo sometimes wondered why he surrounded himself with the likes of Chihiro and Taka, who always seemed so eager to jump to the defence of complete strangers.

"YEAH! Co-ordination is the key to success in any team!" Nekomaru (rather loudly) added. Mondo knew they could never know the true reason he decided to brutalise Fuyuhiko, so he just grinned and bore it. However, that was not to say he was interested in the conversation any longer, for Mondo was one to steer clear of any uncomfortable topics that could compromise the calmness he had broken for mere minutes only a quarter of an hour earlier.

"I swear if I stay here any longer my fucking eardrums will burst." Mondo turned around and began to walk away, feeling glad he had perhaps dodged a landmine.

"Bro! Wait!" Mondo winced and quickened his pace, turning a corner to try and escape Kiyotaka. "No running in the halls, Mondo!" Mondo ground to a halt, knowing a three-hour long seminar would come his way if he didn't freeze like a statue the instant Taka called that out.

"Ugh, fine. Whaddya wanna say? Let's walk and talk."

"Well, I just wanted to comment on how well you're doing flirting with Chihiro." Taka threw two hands up in the air, grinning that shit-eating grin as he did so, his idea of a congratulations. But Mondo was not pleased with the comment his friend had made. Perhaps his anger, now that it had reared its head once more, was more willing to reveal its form to the world as Mondo felt it rise in his chest again.

"Bro, I see him as a more of a brother than anything. Don't say shit like that." Mondo controlled his breathing, stopping himself from lashing out. What he said was true – he really had no romantic intent with Chihiro, he merely wanted to protect the boy and help him achieve his goals, but the comment Kiyotaka made had irked him anyway.

"Nonsense! I support your relationship one hundred percent, bro! Don't try and fool yourself, now!" Mondo felt the world stop moving and two things happened at this moment in time.

One. A pink-haired boy who Mondo recognized as Chihiro's project partner crossed beside Mondo, wrench in hand and beanie off, revealing that rat's nest of pink hair concealed underneath. He heightened Mondo's rage for reasons Mondo himself could not place.

Two. Mondo snapped. He tore the wrench from Kazuichi's grasp, causing Kazuichi to yelp in shock. Mondo's sudden shift in emotion also caught the attention of Kiyotaka, who was swift to start running. Mondo gave chase, yelling as they got to the crossroads that led down the corridors "Get back here, bro! I'm gonna fucking beat you up!"

Kiyotaka let out a scream that sounded like a pig being slaughtered and blurted out, "Sorry bro! I don't like the idea of that!"

A third step of footsteps followed behind, completely lacking in motivation and energy, knowing their attempt to catch up was useless. "C-could you two please get back here! I need my wrench, dammit!" They gave up, the sound of their footsteps growing quieter. "Agh! Forget it…" They said, admitting defeat.

Fuyuhiko was in the boiler room. That, he was distinctly aware of. What he wasn't aware of, however, was how exactly he had ended up here. His best guess was the numbing agent, which seemed to have stripped away precious hours from his memory. He stood there, completely vacant. And then, odd as it may sound to someone not dosed up like you or I (unless, of course, you are a hardcore junkie reading this, in which case I apologise), he began to hear voices. They started off as odd murmurs, a side effect of the painkiller, perhaps. But then Fuyuhiko noticed the sound was mono-directional, coming only from the left wall in the room. Though his mind was not completely there, he staggered over to the cold limestone of the wall and put his ear to it. He would later – perhaps by chance, though possibly not – forget what happened in that conversation, but what he did hear boggled the mind. An unknown voice, smooth as silk and oddly seductive gave instructions to someone who never really responded. "The matter of Fujisaki," is the what the fragment of conversation Fuyuhiko had listened in on began, "is simple. We know their route, highlighted here, and it will be taken four days from now. They can't fight back, they're weak." Fuyuhiko's head began to pound. The whistling of the pipes and gushing sounds of the water emitted from the massive boiler at the northernmost point of the room went right through him, blasting nauseating waves through his skull. "Industries has all the funds we need, get the weakling to create something we can patch in and acquire them from when you…" Fuyuhiko began to feel heavy. He couldn't feel his arms or his legs, or much anything come to that. He felt his body slump down the wall and darkness enveloped his vision.

"Fuyuhiko!" Fuyuhiko was awoken by a sharp slap to his cheek, which stung mildly for a few seconds. Hajime stood over him, however, Fuyuhiko was no longer in the damp and dank boiler room, but in the safety of his own bed with no recollection of the events prior. "It's like, 7 pm dude. You had us all worried – except Kazuichi, who's off doing his own thing." Hajime chastised.

"Wha- wha 'appen?" Fuyuhiko's speech was slurred and not quite right, like a man who has downed one too many a shot of vodka and is now regretting it the morning after.

"Hagakurae found you blanked out in the boiler room. What the hell were you doing there, man?"

"B-boiler room? Wha' boiler room? I never been to the boiler 'oom." Fuyuhiko's mind attempted to attach itself to the events occurring earlier but found it could not and so gave up in its futile attempt to reclaim the fragments of memory that lay scattered at the back of the Yakuza's mind.

"Seems like someone has been drinking one of Mikan's experiments," Hajime noted with a slight chuckle. Without warning the door burst open, kicked nearly off its hinges by Peko. "Young Master!" She cried out, running to the bedside and roundhouse kicking Hajime off of his stool. "Are you okay? Is there any major damage? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"I'm fine, Peko. An' don't call me 'oung Master." Fuyuhiko said through the static that burst itself around in his skull.

"Apologies, Yo- Fuyuhiko. I ask you forgive my worrying, you can clearly take care of yourself."

"Peko, the hell was that for?" Hajime groaned and lifted himself off of the ground. "Anyway, Fuyuhiko, I've got a favour to ask of you." He reached into his pocket and produced a small letter, freshly printed from the warmth of the paper and sheen on the ink that the words were printed in on the envelope. Fuyuhiko didn't even have to look at it to understand what was going on. Nor did Peko, who stood there, mouth agape.

"Is it that bad?" Fuyuhiko inquired. Hajime simply nodded back, his spirit crushed and looking as if he were a man who had just attended his own funeral. Peko closed her mouth and the room stood in a state of stark silence for a few solemn seconds before Peko cut through it, her mouth as powerful at alleviating the mood as what was sheathed on her own back. "We can help. We've already planned for this, everyone has a fund for this remember? We all chipped in." Hajime still stood rooted to the spot, voice shaky and quite clearly trying not to cry. The Academy really meant the world to him, it seemed. "I-I know. But I can't leave to post the letter and cheque, even if I wanted to." Peko made a sudden movement and grabbed the letter from Hajime's grasp.

"Fuyuhiko. Would it make you happy if Hajime stayed at Hope's Peak?" She stared at him with hardened eyes of steel, eagerly awaiting his response.

"Of cour-" Fuyuhiko didn't have time to finish his sentence before Peko had dashed out of the room with the letter, a woman possessed and on a mission from a higher power.

"… well, I guess that's my cue. Get some rest, okay?" Hajime grinned at Fuyuhiko and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Mondo walked to back to his room feeling notedly emptier. Kiyotaka had managed to run back to Nekomaru, who Mondo did not want to cross and proceeded to leave to meet with a few others at the gym. Mondo had done menial tasks to stave off the boredom and loneliness and so was glad when he finally got to his room at midnight and began to undress, taking his jacket off, he heard a knock at his door. His mood was not improved upon opening it.

"…Hey." A nervous voice, belonging to Kazuichi said. The sight of him filled Mondo with a looming sense of dread and defeat for no apparent reason and he was glad he had filled his day with menial tasks such as homework (due in three months ago) and idle chit-chat (fortune telling with Hagakurae was surprisingly fun, though an odd vision in his crystal ball sent him running in the direction of the boiler room in the underbelly of Hope's Peak) for if he had set eyes on Kazuichi during the day – unaware that was impossible as Kazuichi was cooped up in his own little world – he would surely be returning to his room not only empty, but downright depressed.

"You want your wrench back, I'm guessing? Here." Mondo fished around in the pockets of his pants, eager to close the door and say goodbye to Kazuichi. He handed the wrench to the boy who, to Mondo's chagrin, opened his mouth once more.

"Wait, can I ask you a favour? It… It doesn't concern me, so I thought I'd ask." Mondo was in no mood to grant favours, but he also wanted the conversation to pass quickly.

"Shoot." He responded.

"It's about Chihiro." Mondo bit down hard on his tongue, feeling his anger begin to froth and rise to the surface once more. "I-I can't believe I'm saying this, but I had to carry her back to her room…" Mondo clenched his fists. He no longer wanted the conversation to finish quickly, he wanted more words he could use to fuel his rage towards this lanky punk when he finally decided to do to him what he did to Fuyuhiko. "… and I just wanna make sure she's okay, but I-I'm e-embarrassed to do it myself. Could- could you check on her for me?" Mondo cooled down slightly. He was willing to accept the favour now. It was something he did most mornings anyway, so he reasoned he shouldn't get mad at it. "Sure. Goodbye." Mondo slammed the door on Kazuichi, feeling drained and listless after the parlay, falling asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

Meanwhile, Fuyuhiko shivered as his footsteps crunched through the frosty grass of the small hill near the back edge of the wall bordering Hope's Peak. On top of it stood a weeping willow, its tendrils of leaves coated in a fine layer of frost that shimmered and refracted rainbows of moonlight, serene and constant in the ever-changing landscape of Hope's Peak. At its base, a small bench sat (also coated in frost) where one could sit and see a view of the city just over the large concrete and brick structure that surrounded them.

And sit there Fuyuhiko did. It was a beautiful night to freeze. Stars hung in the sky like teardrops held there by time, gleaming in all their melancholy beauty. The night sky wept, leaving Fuyuhiko with a nostalgic feeling within him for absolutely no time or place at all. What he would give to sit here with anyone, just pointing at the stars and making conversation about the wonderful everyday. A tear pricked at Fuyuhiko's left eye and a voice said beside him, "I am not so easily moved, but this night sky… it always leaves you like this, huh?" Kyoko Kirigiri was also crying, pale as a ghost and sitting next to him.

"How'd you get here?" She seemed to just spontaneously appear from the air next to Fuyuhiko.

"I approached and sat next to you. You were just too busy remembering the nothing that is our pasts."

"You think you're deep, don't you?" Kyoko smirked, enjoying the quick wit of the Yakuza's comments.

"Perhaps I do, Kuzuryuu, perhaps I do." She paused for a second, then continued. "Do you know why I am here?"

"Because you couldn't sleep, like me?"

"No, not that."

"Then what is it then?" Fuyuhiko couldn't help but wonder what such an enigmatic figure was doing here at 1 am.

"I'm scared, Fuyuhiko." This answer shocked him greatly, what was there to be scared about within Hope's Peak? There weren't any exams, they were well looked after… Fuyuhiko did not have time to continue his train of thought, however. "I suppose I shall give you a message, considering you are here and I see no reason not to confide about what is troubling me so."

"Go ahead, I'm all ears. And I won't tell anyone either, Yakuza's promise."

"Odd for a Yakuza to have such a deep-rooted sense of honour. Or is it? Perhaps it's common with gang members like you. Judging from the discolouration under your nostrils and bottom lip which suggests washed away blood, I take it you met Mondo."

"Just gimme the damn message."

Kyoko bit her lip, pondered whether she should tell Fuyuhiko what information she had bottled within her, then simply stated a message that left Fuyuhiko shivering more than the cold air around them:

"We are all in grave danger."

And with that ominous she was gone, walking away quickly like a bird awing. "Wait, what do you mean? What's happening?" Fuyuhiko called after her. But it was futile. His voice may as well have just been another gust of wind.

And so, Fuyuhiko sat there with a growing sense of dread festering within his stomach. His mind relayed the statement to himself over and over, feeling like it was just some weird dream. But the air that bit at his nose, the wind that chilled his ears, all told him he was very much awake. You don't ignore warnings from people like Kyoko Kirigiri, he thought, as exhaustion took hold and he fell asleep on the bench.