Project 3, Part 4

Fighting By Starlight

A few shrill beeps from the clock on the nightstand signalled it was time for Fuyuhiko to wake up. He sighed as he pulled the covers off his bed and looked out to see that same blue light as yesterday, still equal parts cold and gloomy. He thought about getting up, but instead opted to sling the covers back over himself and just lie there, where it was actually warm and he didn't have to move his still aching bones. He was thinking about perhaps just staying in a permanent vegetative state for the rest of days but that, like so many things nowadays, was interrupted by a single knock. Fuyuhiko decided he'd best take the warmth with him, so wrapped the blankets around himself in an odd makeshift toga and jumped towards the door, with little regard for self-dignity. As soon as he opened the door, he was met by a disapproving look which softened immediately, one belonging to Makoto Naegi. "Is now the right time?" He asked, holding a clipboard.

"What makes you think it isn't?" Fuyuhiko growled. Makoto scanned up and down Fuyuhiko's blanket-clad body before deciding against saying something witty.

"Uhh, there'll be a dinner at the pavilion tonight and…"

"I'll be there."

"O-oh. I wasn't expecting a response that quickly."

"You think I got anything fuckin' better to do with my time? If there's good food and good people, of course I'll be there."

"Well, thank you. This makes my job easier, I suppose." Makoto's pen scratched against the paper on the clipboard before he took his leave down the hallway. Fuyuhiko slithered back into bed and closed his eyes again, feeling completely unmotivated. But – assuming that detective was there – he could possibly get some answers to whatever odd danger was looming over them – fantasy or not.

Mondo trudged through the frost-tipped grass, every step making a satisfying crunch and making the ground sink under his feet. The winter sun had already turned a good amount of the frost into morning dew, which sparkled and danced in the cold light, making everything around him feel a good bit warmer than it actually was. He'd been visited by Makoto in the morning to ask about some dinner or whatever and he'd agreed to attend because, for the past few days at least, all he had done was get lost in his own emotions and destroy someone's property. He needed a change of pace, something new, and the first step towards that would probably be by soothing the sick feeling in his stomach he got whenever he thought about Chihiro these days. The door to the workshop he had spent the past few days holed up in slid open with ease, creaking slightly as it did so. The hum of the fluorescent lights overhead greeted his ears as he closed the door behind him and the cold with it. Chihiro was messing around with an odd machine, humming as he moved its arms up and down and giggling to himself. Mondo pulled up a chair next to him and surveyed the desk – eight cardboard boxes were stacked neatly around the perimeter of it, and Chihiro's elbow slightly obscured one of the sketches made on a large blueprint, looking like a toy robot Mondo had seen in old shopfronts. He pulled upa seat beside Chihiro, listening to how it grated against the floor and watching as Chihiro looked up, smiling. He felt the knot in his stomach untie itself as he did so, but a new one form too – one of regret. He felt bad for worrying about Chihiro and the company he kept and also felt (though it was out of control) he would quite like to speak to Taka once more, despite the fact he was completely engrossed in his work. Whether this soothing feeling would last for long would be another matter entirely, however.

"Hey, kid." Mondo grinned. "How's it going? The punk still treating you nice?" Mondo, for perhaps the last time, mentioned Kazuichi without a hint of venom on his tongue or a ball of anger in his chest. "So, what're you doing here?"

"Nothing much, just finishing up the project."

"Heh, still not started mine."

"You still got that grudge?" Chihiro looked concerned. "T-That's really unhealthy."
"Bah, so what? I fail this? Like they're gonna kick me out. Besides, I'm getting free food now. Who am I to complain?"

"I-I suppose." Chihiro finished fiddling around with whatever he was messing with and turned to Mondo, sighing.

"Hey, whaddya reckon to training tomorrow?" Mondo asked, feeling slightly regretful he'd made Chihiro worried. "It's Friday, so it should be the perfect time. And, once you're done with this," he added, perhaps with a bit of a threatening undertone that shouldn't have been there considering who he was talking to, "no more distractions, right? I mean, anything to distance ourselves from that yakuza shit and his friends, right?"

"Y-yeah… right." Chihiro suddenly looked away at the mention of Fuyuhiko's friends and Mondo could almost feel the temperature in the room drop. He gulped down a wad of spit that found itself lodged in his throat.

"What's with that pause? I don't like that pause. That's the 'Mondo I'm keeping secrets from you' pause." Whatever the next sentence was, Mondo was sure he wasn't going to enjoy it.

"…well it's actually about Kazuichi…" Mondo bit down hard enough to nearly crack a tooth. He didn't trust the appearance of that punk – he looked every bit the worst type of thug imaginable, one even deplorable enough to raise his hand to one he assumed to be a woman.

"Oh no, I knew it. He's actually an asshole, isn't he?" Mondo went to rise from his seat. "Well, he won't know what hit him, the little shit." Chihiro frantically made a grabbing motion and groped Mondo's leg desperately, yelling:
"N-no! It's nothing like that!" And in that moment Mondo felt the inertia hit him as the synapses in his brain worked overtime to put two and two together. A force comparable to that of say, a road roller, hit him immediately, though he did not move.

"Wait…"

"Kazuichi's actually really nice… and sweet… a-and he's kind and understands me…" Chihiro's face went a deeper shade of crimson as he stuttered out every word.

"…please don't tell me you told him?!"

"Y-yeah… but there's a slight b-bit more to it th-than that…"

"What more could there possibly be?!" And then a thought, sickening though it may be hit him harder still. While he thought Kazuichi may have just known Chihiro's secret, it likely went far beyond that. "Oh God." Mondo clutched his forehead and felt the sweat slide onto his hands. "A-are you two – and I can't believe I'm saying this," Mondo stuttered uncharacteristically and breathed in. "Dating?"

"Y-yeah."

Mondo could've buried his fist in both the table and Chihiro's stomach there and then and held a small speech on why dating men with shark teeth and pink hair, that reeked of oil and engine fumes, that looked like they hung around dark alleys after sundown was an emphatically horrible idea, but this eloquent speech came out as a loud slam against metal and a furious "Him?! Really? Why?!" Chihiro looked like he was about to speak and give a seminar on all of the good qualities of the omni-benevolent Kazuichi Souda but Mondo knew that if that were to happen if he was still as mad as he was currently, he couldn't guarantee if the either of them wouldn't end up in a noose. "Actually, I don't wanna know. Fucking hell." Mondo let that hot flash of belligerent fury subside before sitting down. He felt faint.

"Mondo! Please! He's… I don't know why… look, there's just something there I can't ignore! He understands my talent, my secret, everything! And he accepts me for it! An-and that's why… why I always go red when I'm near him… why my heart feels funny when he hugs me… and why I kissed him… because he understands. He-he understands. And that's all I've ever needed." Mondo knew that given any more time in this room he would suffocate, so decided it best to make his excuses and leave before he did something he'd regret. "…well if it makes you happy, then I suppose I can be okay with it. Just don't get all mushy around me."

"Thank you! Thank you!" Chihro flung himself against Mondo.

"Yeah, yeah… you'd best get back to work. Wouldn't want to disappoint him, would ya?"

"Yeah! Thanks, Mondo! See ya!" From Chihiro's perspective, perhaps it seemed Mondo strode away, confused yet happy Chihiro was content. This was not the case. Mondo felt nothing. No shred of anger, nor a shred of happiness. There was no discontent, but neither was that void filled in equal measure by content. And there was certainly, absolutely no guilt for what he was about to do next.

Mondo hadn't paid attention up to this point of the dinner, even when conversing with Taka and his equally loud friend. It seemed time had almost skipped, as if every one of his senses had primed him for this very moment. He'd arrived, taken his seat, sneered at Fuyuhiko and then… static. His body was on autopilot, even if he was talking to his best friend. What had came before, the exchange in pleasantries perhaps people like Chihiro had tuned into, that did not matter. Cold. The pavillion was freezing cold despite the torchlight. Though Ibuki's music was oddly decent today and the torches blazed, the air was frigid and Mondo shivered as his fists clenched together, listening to Kyoko speak about this whole incident. "No. I knew Hifumi would be planning something like this. I caught him putting the aphrodisiacs on something. But they were slow-burn and would last for a while. They weren't as concentrated as these. They lasted a while." She repeated, letting the importance of that statement sink in. The entire room's gaze was focused solely on her. "Presumably long enough for him to have his… fun. Point is, someone who knew Gundham and was trusted enough to enter his room spiked the food with these. It's presumably to cause a distraction… but what for? No sex-crazed maniac wants only 15 minutes."

"Eengh…" Mondo always hated that ball of lard and how overly kind he was to ladies he clearly wanted in with, especially Chihiro, though he swatted that thought away as quickly as it had flashed into his head.

"So… who did it?"

Taka piped up. He was no slouch when it came to recognising patterns like this. Mondo always had to remind him intelligence and wisdom were two separate concepts, as Taka held great contempt towards so-called 'geniuses', except for Chihiro. Something to with his father, he had heard.

"Friend of Gundham's… one of Class 77. Maybe Teruteru?" The name mentioned sported a distressed look and stammered out:
"Look, it wasn't me I tell ya! We learned our lesson with aphrodisiacs last time, right Kazuichi? Back me up here man!"

Oh yeah. There it was. The justification for what Mondo was about to do. For him, he was undoubtedly right. And even if he weren't he had reason (read: zero evidence) to conclude that Kazuichi had somehow manipulated Chihiro into loving him. Was it fear? Bribery? Blackmail? Mondo knew (read: had delusions) that if he could just whack Kazuichi hard enough the answer would be revealed. Somehow. He hadn't got that far yet, his anger had prevented that.

"Well, Kazuichi?" Suddenly every pair of eyes in the room burnt into Kazuichi, which also made Chihiro visibly uncomfortable. He didn't like seeing Kazuichi distressed. "C-Cute theory! But there's no way in hell! If I were behind it, don't you think I would've drugged Miss Sonia's food? I've only got eyes for her!" And everyone looked at each other, murmured amongst themselves, seemed happy with that defence and Kazuichi relaxed. And that was when another bolt of anger hit Mondo. In his mind, this could only mean one thing. He was manipulating not just Chihiro but everyone here – this 'Miss Sonia' was but a mere front, a facade that hid the truth from everyone despite it being so obviously there. This wasn't just manipulation anymore, this was abuse.

"Oh. Oh. So that's what all of this is about!" Mondo's voice was distorted behind layers of anger, sounding hellish and inhuman. It scared the daylights out of those around him, causing Taka to meekly ask, "Bro?" Kazuichi stood like a deer in headlights and Mondo savoured it. That terrified expression, those dancing irises stoking by fear, that trembling bottom lip was a fucking glorious sight to behold, it epitomised fear and went beyond that for Mondo, it was everything he wished to see. But tears. He wanted tears. And begging and apologies and admittance and penance and blood. All he wanted was cruelty. "You rat fucking bastard!" He bellowed, letting it boom and resound around the pavilion. He drank in the silence and did not falter even when Chihiro asked, "M-Mondo? Wh-what's wrong?"

Chihiro's eyes were glassy and tried to weep but could not. "My head, my head..." He cried.

"Mondo, what's gotten into you?" Makoto questioned. He too was deathly pale, as was everyone else in the vicinity. "It looks like Kazuichi's killed a relative of yours or something…" You mean he hasn't told you? Ugh…!" He turned his back to the people present. "You guys who've taken the aphrodisiacs, raise your hands!" Everyone who had ingested it did. "Augh!" His throat let out a twisted sound of agony, like a man subject to torture. Mondo saw Chihiro's hand raised and felt his suspicions confirmed and another surge of adrenaline. "It was Kazuichi! He drugged everyone!"

"…where the fuck is this coming from?" Fuyuhiko looked angry, maybe as enraged as Mondo. And that did nothing to help the situation as Mondo was spurred even further into that white hot emotion that coursed though every part of his being.

"Are you seriously telling me you don't fucking know?!"

"My, my. It appears we are about to hear something rather interesting."

"Listen here punk." Mondo pointed a finger at Kazuichi, his gut wrought in the fire of Hephaestus. "You're clearly no alpha male. If I were you, forever rejected by someone not meant for you, constantly snubbed and alone, surrounded by machines for fuck-knows-how-long…" Mondo's voice was as cold as the tundra, oddly calm, betrayed whatever hot flashes of fury were running amok inside of him. "If someone nice, someone cute, came along and showed interest in what you did… who you were… then I'd fall in 'love' in two days and manipulate and drug them into loving you too." Mondo pointed at Kazuichi's arm. Chihiro laying his head on Kazuichi's arm His eyes were glassy, and drool dribbled down his small chin. The penny had dropped. And then Mondo let out a scream of pure rage, vaulted over the table and slammed his feet into Kazuichi's chest. That thump – that glorious thump – and that yelp of agony as Kazuichi felt the pain set in made Mondo's heart soar. He let out another kick into Kazuichi's stomach, causing another groan to ring out. And then another. And another. And another. And another and another and another and another all as his adrenaline levels rose and rose, his anger flowed into every kick and every action, every scream another spur in his side that caused him to continue on. "ORAORAORAORAORA!" Mondo screamed, a primal instinct that he didn't knew was within him – nor did he know where it even came from – but was a beautiful and bloody accompaniment to the cracks that began to ring out. Oh, those cracks. The noise they made, like snapping a pencil in two or leaving a hole in a wall. He wanted for Kazuichi to beg for mercy, to scream and cry out for more like a man reduced to a mere child out of the womb, completely stripped of dignity and unable to fight back.

No-one stopped him. Many couldn't, too drugged up or scared to even move. This was brutality on a new level. Even when Kazuichi let out ugly cries and choking sobs of submission, curling into the foetal position and begging under his breath for someone to please help him, Mondo continued to swing massive amounts of power in every kick, swinging his leg like a whip into the nape of Kazuichi's back, feeling the hard bone strike against his toes and getting pleasure from that satisfying contact. Even when Kazuichi spat blood onto the stones beneath his broken body and was so badly damaged his brain would choose not to remember this experience, Mondo did not relent, nor did he ever feel any pang of guilt or regret or any other pathetic, snivelling emotion that would stop him from turning this snivelling abuser into a bloody fucking pulp. And when Mondo's barrage ended as the adrenaline exited his body and he collapsed, he collapsed content he had done his duty.

And everyone else rushed to clean up his mess, Fuyuhiko's hands trembling as he went to Kazuichi's unconscious body and tearfully pleaded for Mikan to help. Mondo was someone he disliked, but he was still a human being and this was not his doing. This was years of anger and pent up frustrations, something Fuyuhiko had seen in both members of the clan… and himself. He looked at Mondo's body and felt a spark of pity, as he and Mikan lifted Kazuichi upwards and the night continued on, though from that day on things were beginning to change and the atmospehere around the school became darker and gloomier, as if the innocence of the building had been shattered. And, despite the fact no-one was privy to the truth of the matter, it was a precursor for things to come. Senseless brutality. It is here our tale truly begins.