A Punch for Lunch

As a sign to kindly confirm this day is going to be absolute shit, when I try at noon to retreat to this school’s rooftop, I have the pleasant surprise to hear echoes of laughs from upstairs.

    Of course, the best place has to be taken. Circling in the corridors like a caged animal, I don’t fail to earn some of these gazes sufficient to let me know the other transferred students from our turned-to-ashes school did their job. They should get paid, truly.

    In a surprising strike of good luck, I end up finding an empty classroom. Nobody around, a window left open…

    Less than five minutes later, I’m sat cross-legged on top of the teacher’s desk. Vaguely gazing at the magnificence of the monochrome ceiling, I’m reminded of the magnificence of mine. Long talk short, it stinks.

    Still, it’s more pleasant to stare at it than at the aura-poisoned lunch box I put next to me.

    Should I…?

    I cast a hateful glance at the sealed coffin of rice. It’s of a night-blue shade. Her favourite colour, hence the one I despise.

    Fujiko’s silhouette, her long hair flashes through my mind, making me unfrown a tad.

“That girl, it suits her well, though…”

    A sudden noise makes me raise my eyes to catch sight of the door being harassed by a student. Three… they’re three boys, a bit too eager to join me in that empty room for my taste.

    With a silent sigh, I grab a small carton of milk in my backpack, pressing the straw into the chocolate milk.

    The moment they manage to pull the door open with a violent thud, I’ve already half-flattened the carton.

“Not smart enough to notice the open window, huhh?” I note with a glance at them.

    It takes me a while, but I recognise the boy which greeted me in class with a comment about that goddamn key. The two other ones are following him a few steps behind, as if helping him to assert dominance.

    Not replying, the boy gets close enough to lean his hand against the desk, looking down at me.

    Pissed off yet unimpressed by the proximity, I keep sipping my chocolate milk until the empty carton lets out agonising suction sounds, fighting to keep its last droplets away from me.

“Tssk.”

    With a sudden move, the boy snatches the milk carton from my hand, tossing it aside.

“I found you weird the moment you crossed the door.” He claims. “You look more like a clown than a furyō.”

    I glance at him. Spiky, short black hair, a single earring which isn’t enough to compensate for his lack of aura. Unless it’s me getting accustomed to people like Rubeus and the director. Could be that, but…

“And you look more like a mob character attempting not to be one than anything else.”

    The comment doesn’t seem to please him, his chestnut eyes filling instead with murderous intent.

    Despite it, all I feel is the coldness of the room. That world won’t ever change, will it? Wherever I go, I always get that same impression. It’s more natural to show aggression than affection. Funny… Funny how people won’t wince at you if you show random hatred to an almost stranger. But the reverse…

“You’ll soon regret using that shitty mouth, you cosplay girl.” He reaches for the lunch box and unseals it, slowly throwing its content into the nearby bin. “I won’t let you make our school a weirdo’s place.”

    I consider my hater with a deadpan expression.

    Should I? If I let him do, my reputation as a furyō will be dead in no time. And if I let it vanish, I’ll just be the weird girl with a key stuck in her back. More students will get problematic.

    Yet, I’m not in the mood for that. Erina was the only one I’ve fought at school in these three last years. At school. I have to be precise now, with the Jikininkis to take care of and, well, the Edward incident.

“Oi, don’t look at me like this.” His tone betrays his annoyance.

    But soon, it’s replaced by a cocky smile, making me frown the more it broadens.

“Playing the cool girl? You look funny after what you’ve done in your previous school. Didn’t you go harassing people around, urging them to look for a homeless fisherman? Harassing, though… Let me correct that, it was more like begging, wasn’t it? Questioning them as if looking for your missing lover. Ohh.” He pauses as if two of his decaying neurons just collided. “Is this it? You’re into old men?”

    My fist grips the back of his head before he can even notice the move, fingers entangling between his strands of hair only to connect his face with the teacher’s desk in a thud.

“That’s a line you shouldn’t have crossed.”

    I’m already standing up on the desk when he straightens up drowsily, his goons wincing behind him. Staining his sleeve, he wipes away the blood dripping from his nose.

“You’re gonna pay for these words.” I warn him as the brat grits his teeth, grabbing a nearby chair he swings at me.

    Not fast enough.

    I have the time to jump from the desk and land sole first against the face of one of the goons, knocking him against the floor with a flattened cheek.

“Bitch… Come and take this!”

    I turn at the bland retort, unable this time to avoid the boy’s fist, his knuckles hitting my cheekbone.

    Another blow follows, his knee squishing my belly to the point I bend forward… Only to rush at him, arms wrapping around his waist.

    In a blink, he’s pinned to the floor, a cherry-haired girl straddling him.

    Lucky brat, isn’t he?

    I clench my fist, hurling it down at him. A blow he holds back just in time, his palm wrapping my hand. Not around the second fist which brushes, oh so lovingly, his brat’s face.

“Here… Do you feel it? My growing affection for you?” I spit at him. “I guess I have a crush on you.”

    It’s because of people like him that this world is so cold.

    It’s because of people like him that to love is a crime.

“Mad girl…” He grunts between two kisses from the tip of my fists.

    Our intimate moment is interrupted the moment I get pulled back, the remaining goon having gripped me by the key in my back. I get tossed at the students’ desks like a bowling ball, gritting my teeth as a loud crash follows.

“Nice move.” The brat approves, standing up.

    With a grunt, I squirm at the aching spots on my body, where the desks’ edges and chairs falling over me have asserted dominance.

    A large smile over his bruised face, the boy approaches the clutter of desks and chairs where I’m lying.

“What happened? Looks like you have some difficulty moving. ‘Need someone to wind up your key?”

    A wince answers him.

“That ain’t good. I need to stand up…”

    The brat takes an abusive pleasure in taking slow steps towards me while I clumsily try to stand up.

“If I am cautious enough… Maybe I can…”

    Trying and failing to free myself from the mess of chairs, I discreetly reach my hand behind my back.

    A little bit… Just a little impulse…

    The boy is about to lean forward when I use the same trick as before, with the policeman. Letting flow out enough mana to allow me to regain footing.

“Just a little bit of magic…”

    Now right in front of my stupid classmate, I grip his collar while he opens his eyes wide.

    About to throw my fist at him, a sudden shout makes me freeze.

“Miss Hoshimori, stop that right now! That’s enough!!”

    A glance to the side allows me to catch sight of our homeroom teacher standing in the middle of a group of students. Making his way through the crowd, a supervisor already joins him.

“Oh shit-”

⋆༺♱༻⋆

“Your daughter, Mrs. Hoshimori! At risk of repeating myself, you have to come and retrieve her. We can’t keep her at school, she just picked up a fight with her classmate. On her first day here. Please come and-”

    A pause.

“What do you mean you don’t have a-”

    A failed attempt at trying to regain permission to speak.

    Fingers tapping at the desk to redirect his frustration at the innocent furniture, the education adviser keeps a smile plastered over his features.

“You are Mrs. Hoshimori. And she is Megumi Hoshimori. Hence-”

    A frown.

    After momentarily freezing, the education adviser puts down his phone. He seems to secretly catalogue every single insult having ever been used on Earth before glancing at me.

“Miss Hoshimori. Your mother is… busy. Very busy. So what we’re going to do is the following. I’ll call the supervisor back and he’ll monitor you in an empty classroom until the end of the afternoon. Then you’ll be free to go home.”

    Silently, I nod.

    At least it seems that no one noticed my earlier trick, or I’ll have more serious problems than an exclusion. Also, it’s not like I’m gonna complain that she refuses to come and take me home.

    But…

    As the footsteps of the supervisor grow closer to the education adviser’s office, I can’t help wondering why he seems so confused. Not just pissed off, it’s like he’s questioning his own sanity.

⋆༺♱༻⋆

    By the way I return home, it’s already sunset. I couldn’t help but slow my pace, a knot growing in my stomach at the thought of her reaction. ‘Guess I’ll have to head to my bedroom faster than ever.

    When I finally step into the demons’ house, I can’t calm my heartbeat. Annoyed, I lightly punch my chest, trying to dissipate that uneasiness.

    I take a few steps inside, but I don’t even have the time to head towards the stairs before I freeze in place.

    My breath catches in my throat.

    She’s there, standing right in front of me in the corridor. An empty gaze directed at me.

    A silence follows, longer than I’ve ever been accustomed to. For a while, I consider the possibility of saying something, defending my case, or trying to force my way past her. But all of it is futile since my body doesn’t respond to my will any more.

    All I can do is stare at her frowning face when her lips finally part.

“Who are you?”

    My eyes widen at her nonsensical words.

“Ehh?”