Leon the Rat

The end-of-class bell rang. He felt his shoulder being nudged to stir him awake.

“Geeze, Leon. Teacher was grumbling at you. He cursed and left the room in a huff.” Rachael sighed.

Leon stared at the pretty girl’s doe-like blue eyes. She had fair and smooth skin; amicable, gentle features, and soft full lips that held a friendly smile.

Her silky black hair rested delicately on her shoulders. It was held back off her face by three fine bobby pins.

Her body was slender and still developing in her blue and white sailor uniform, which rested above her knees. Long white socks covered her calves. Buckled boots protected her feet. They had steel caps to administer some self-defense pain when used in a hard kick.

“I’m awake now. We’ve got medical studies next. Hurry along.” He nonchalantly waved her off.

“Fine. But, make sure you pay attention to class next time.” She turned and left the room.

“Are you my mother?” he huffed; rose from his desk, grabbed his satchel bag, and slung it over his broad shoulder as he walked out of the classroom.

The school hall was all white, with no lockers or windows. Neon lights guided the ways to various classroom paths. 

Other guys, wearing the same gray long-sleeved shirt rolled up to the elbows, plaid bottle-green and gray slacks and black shoes, moved past him. Blocking his way at the end, near a set of fire stairs, was a rich prat and a few thugs on his payroll.

This rich boy was Marcus Swain. Son of an oil tycoon. Fossil fuel was a precious commodity since the pandemic war had caused various other energy sources to be destroyed. 

The only other harvested fuel source was solar, which the Eaton family managed. They were obviously the more powerful players in the aristocratic society.

“If it isn’t Leon the Rat.” Marcus cackled.

Leon regarded the rich boy. Far from being handsome or with other redeeming qualities like a brain. The only thing he was good for was using his status to make everyone else look more stupid than him. Marcus had one thing going for him that Leon liked. His fit body and the stylish way he wore his uniform. Otherwise, the man was a dud.

“Squeak, squeak,” he casually answered. Being called Leon the Rat, wasn’t an insult, to be honest. But he wasn’t about to educate someone whose brain was the size of a walnut.

Marcus bellowed with a maniacal laugh. “You really are a hard case. Stay away from Rachael or grovel at my feet.”

He clicked his fingers to draw his lackeys closer to his side.

“Dude. You’re the only one who thinks Rachael and I have something going on. Aren’t you afraid she might poison you in your sleep if she hears about you bullying me?” Leon yawned.

This reaction infuriated Marcus. “A demure beauty such as Rachael will never resort to filthy actions. I’ll fight for her honor, you filth!”

“Whatever. I don’t care. But I will warn you that your puny fist won’t land a punch on me before I reach the stairs.” Leon firmly stared at the man and his weak horde.

“You do know that I’m training as an apprentice Fist Master.” Marcus crunched his knuckles for effect.

Leon frowned and checked his watch banded tightly over his thick wrist. “We have medicine in two minutes. So, let's make this our bout timer.”

Marcus grinned as he launched an attack with his lackeys.

Leon ducked, swerved, and side-stepped around the men's attacks to reach the stairs. They hadn’t landed a punch on him and couldn’t stop his escape.

He ignored their cries filled with anguish, as he sprinted to the next floor and slammed his class door wide, drawing his classmates' attention to his entrance. He was still panting when he slipped onto one of the benches near the back.

That was a close call. If he had been late, his teacher would have injected him with an eight-hour poison. She was a nasty beauty in disguise, so obviously Rachael’s mentor outside of school.

Marcus and his lackeys entered just before the teacher did. Leon groaned when he realized Rachael was seated next to him. 

To distract his mind from the heavy glares he felt, he focused on his teacher’s lesson regarding the body's organs. One of the few lessons he enjoyed was medicine, so focusing on the information wasn’t hard. If he had anything in common with the Yi Heiress, it was the fact they both enjoyed the subject of martial health sciences.

Eventually, the lesson and another school day were over. 

Despite his earlier run-in with Marcus, he was able to travel back to his place without issues. The advantage of living in a cut-throat neighborhood was many normal or wealthy citizens would avoid the place. 

Still, everyone in the Metal District, where he lived, was a weapon for hire. As he wasn’t being tailed, he figured Marcus found him as a venting tool for the moment and nothing more. And as long as he didn’t cross the man’s pride or social standing, he would be fine.

“Spin attack!” A raspy voice laughed from his left.

Leon felt a gust stroke his cheek and a gentle chime tingle his eardrums. Cues of a spinning blade aimed for his head. 

He stepped back and did a half-turn, narrowly missing the glint of a blade as it cleanly stabbed into the metal wall where his head had just been.

“Nice job, kid,” The crackly voice said. A tall and muscly man stepped out from behind the shadows.

His squarish face was covered in a white beard that dangled at his wide chin. His one-green eye shimmered like a glass bauble, making his black right one less obvious. The rest of his gray hair was held up in a half ponytail and off his forehead and shoulders. His face and exposed skin were covered in grease marks, which was also all over his blue work overalls and heavy black boots.

“Crazy-Eye Jay. What the fuck do you think you're doing to a poor student?” Leon cursed at the old man.

“Pfft. Student who was raised to be a Fist Master warrior. I don’t think there’s anything poor about your skill for your age. But your attitude needs some work.” Jay scolded the youngster.

“Attitude? You do know this is the Metal District S-Zone.” Leon crossed his eyes at the man’s absurd advice.

Jay laughed and retrieved his psi-daggers with a few waves of his hand.

Advanced martial warriors who could use spirit magic were able to wield specialized weapons called psi-weapons. Upon telepathic commands, they could control their weapons without physically holding them. So, they were the favored tools for a class of warriors called Assasinators.

Apparently, Jay and Leon’s father used to be one of them. Leon only knew his old man as a violent drunk who wallowed within his self-pity and had a habit of attacking him with his katana or throwing knives at him. 

After a few blade-slashing rounds (and many stitches later) he was able to dodge them with his own sword and tame his father's temper at the same time.

The psi-daggers flew past Leon’s nose to be caught by Jay. Leon would be lying to himself if he didn’t find the man’s skill impressive.

Jay took a moment to regard the cocky young brat before him. Leon was his workmate’s son. 

A tall, toned, and fit man with handsome features: a short mop of fine brown hair with a fringe that was balanced on the edge of his naturally shaped brows, almond blue eyes, soft lips, masculine jawline, and tall neck. His olive-toned skin made him blend well into the rougher crowd of the district. 

He knew a few ladies who were goo-goo-eye over the boy. A walking piece of eye candy. Of course, the boy didn’t notice nor care for other people’s views of him. Why would he, with an apathetic asshole for a father. He could say this of Leon’s father because he was that man’s long-time comrade.

Alas, Leon wouldn’t know much about his father’s glory before The Fall had ended. However, a lot of the older folk in the neighborhood remembered. Out of respect for the retired hero, the neighbors decided to watch over and train up his son.

“True.” Jay chuckled.

Leon sighed and softened his expression. “Did you just finish your shift at the Motorworks?”

Jay nodded and soberly added. “Your old man is home. You might want to wait until he’s knocked down a few.”

A troubled expression clouded Leon’s face. “Was it a bad job?”

“The Meiro Family came calling with an illegal ride to fix. After cleaning up the goods, we were visited by the Societal Enforcers. Turns out the ride was a snitch.”

“If you’re here, I guess the enforcers let you all go.” Leon’s heart raced with concern. He didn’t like his old man, but the guy was his only family.

“Yeah. Our boss was able to fudge the records, so the cops had to let us go.” Jay explained as he lit a cigarette and took a long drag. “So, hang out with the neighbors for a while. They could use a test dummy and your body will benefit from a workout.”

Leon smacked a palm to his forehead, feeling annoyed by the fact. But, fine. He was in the mood to be a test dummy for the local gang’s training. There was a new defense move, he was keen to try out.

“Make sure you see Doc if you get wounded.” Jay threw over his shoulder before slipping into the shadows.

Leon hissed and did a dead run along galvanized fire stairs and balconies.