There's always a catch with those arseholes

At first I assumed it was just a misunderstanding, but after last night's events, I’m convinced: The Judge is probably a student at my school. Otherwise, why would she freak out when she saw my face? It wouldn’t make sense.

“You look even poutier than yesterday, Fuji. What’s wrong witcha this time?”

I am, of course, completely unable to hide my expression from Kou. It’s almost scary how well this guy sees through me.

“I had a… really rough night last night.”

“Rough night, huh? That why our resident nutcase is so quiet today too?”

“Not that kind of rough night, you fuckwit.”

I wrap Kou on the side of the head for being a shipping asshat, but what he says catches my attention too. Tori has been oddly silent since she got in this morning. Considering I can normally hear her from the next city over, it’s pretty uncharacteristic of her.

“What’s gotcha down, Toricchi? You get any gloomier than that and you’re gonna start looking like Fucchi.”

“Hm? Ah, nothing to worry about. Just… got some things on my mind.”

She and I make eye contact briefly, but she immediately looks away.

She couldn’t be…

No, there’s no way. One of my best friends couldn’t be some master of Muay Thai without me having any idea, that just wouldn’t make an ounce of sense. There must be something else on her mind.

“Fudou, to me please.”

At the entrance to the classroom stands our new ‘teacher,’ Dojima, one of the bastards running the Yakuza that employs me. Looking at his expression, I don’t think keeping him waiting is a good idea.

“Damn, Fuji, gettin’ in trouble with the new teach already? You were always a troublemaker, but this might be a new record for you.”

“Oh, piss off, Kou.”

I flick my annoying friend on the forehead as I stand up and leave the classroom.

Dojima looks about the hall before he begins speaking, making sure not a word of our conversation is heard.

“That vigilante cretin interrupted your job again yesterday, right?”

“She did. But the ammunition was still delivered, so I expect my payment.”

“Oh, shut it, you’ll get your money. That’s not what’s important. Did you find anything out at all that could point to her identity?”

I think back to Tori’s strange behaviour today. Is it really possible? As far as I know, she’s not much of a fighter. In fact I’ve never seen her fight at all. Still, I can’t disregard the possibility. I won’t pretend to know everything about her. But even so…

“‘Fraid not.” I would never sell her out to these scum. I’m also not gonna tell him that I’ve confirmed she’s a student here either. “But I can tell you one thing: she’s skilled. I was only able to keep her distracted for a minute or so before she got the better of me.”

“You, the great immovable Ouroboros, got taken down by some vigilante with a hero complex?”

“Not just some vigilante. She’s an incredible martial artist. Her speed is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Dojima, I’m telling you, taking on this girl is a bad idea. This is not the hill you want your empire to die on.”

Those are honest words. That girl’s skills… they’re almost inhuman. Her speed is unmatched and her movements are more fluid than those of any man I’ve ever fought in my life. Chuuni though she may be, she’s honed her craft with relentless training. Frankly, it should be impossible for a teenager to possess her level of skill.

“And that is exactly why we’re employing you, Ouroboros.”

“Come again?”

Dojima’s face twists into a sly grin. If he wasn’t my employer I’d happily have wiped it away with my fist.

“You’re the only person to have fought with her on even footing, are you not?”

“She beat me.”

“And yet, here you are, practically uninjured. She may be a better fighter than you, but kindness is her weakness. She defeats her opponents without causing serious damage. I’m sure you won’t have any reservations about taking advantage of that weakness, will you, young Ouroboros?”

God, this scumbag really is worthless. He intends to have me throw myself at her until I find a way to beat her, then disable her in any way I can. How devoid of conscience can one man be?

“...I’ll see what I can do.”

“I know you will. After all, you know the consequences of failure.”

“Touch that girl and I’ll kill you where you stand, got it?”

“I don’t doubt it. But without us, you’ll have no way to prevent her succumbing to her illness, so it wouldn’t be a wise move on your part, now would it?”

I’m sure he can see the utter hatred in my eyes, but he has no reason to care. He can have me or my sister killed at any time, and he knows that that fact will keep me in line. He doesn’t need me to tolerate him. He just needs me to do what he asks.

Rot in hell, you scum.

***

“We need to talk. Come with me.”

She grabs my hand and drags me along behind her, not waiting for a response. We draw stares from the other students milling around the halls, but she doesn’t seem to care. She just continues to drag me like a ragdoll through the halls, paying no mind to anyone else.

I could stop her, of course, but I get the feeling it’s best to let this happen. I think I already know what the reason is.

She drags me all the way up the three flights of stairs from the ground floor to the roof, bursts through the door, and finally lets go of my arm, closing the door behind her.

Now, in a romance novel this would probably be the moment where the girl makes a heartfelt tearful confession of love. But unfortunately, real life isn’t a romance novel, and confessions normally don’t start with a kick to the head.

Well, technically not a kick. She stops her foot just short of my temple, instead using it to hook behind my neck and drag me towards her, grabbing the neck of my shirt with both hands. Completely pointless and theatrical, but she always was overdramatic.

“What the hell are you doing working with the Yakuza, Fuji?”

“What the hell are you doing playing vigilante, Tori?”

Despite my initial refusal to believe it, this was confirmation. Tori, one of my closest friends, was the vigilante who had been causing me trouble these past few days.

“Of all the stupid, reckless, awful things you could have done, the fucking Yakuza? What the hell are you thinking, you cretin? Is there not a brain left in your head? I was planning to beat you senseless, but maybe I need to beat some sense into you first. Honestly, what sort of fucking idi-”

“Sumi has cancer.”

I cut her off as she speaks. I would have let her air all her frustrations out there and then, but I was worried she’d never run out of things to say.

“She has lung cancer, Tori. I’m working with them to earn money to pay for treatment. It was the only way.”

Her grip on my shirt loosens, and her enraged expression softens slightly.

“You’re telling the truth?”

“Would I lie about that?”

“...no. I doubt it.”

She lets go of my shirt completely and looks down at the ground, clearly not knowing what to say.

“I’m… sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay, you couldn’t have. I didn’t tell anyone.”

“But… why the Yakuza? Why not find a real job, or go to a charity?”

“They approached me. Guess they heard about my performance in the kickboxing nationals. When people came offering to save my dying sister’s life, I jumped at the chance. Of course, things that seem too good to be true usually are.”

Tori puts her hands in her face, seemingly distraught at the revelations.

“Fuck’s sake. This complicates everything. What the hell am I supposed to do from here?”

“Tori. You have to stop the vigilantism. Do you understand how big a target you’ve painted for yourself?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re the reason my mother’s dead, Fuji.”

I’m stopped in my tracks completely. Every time anyone has asked about Tori’s family life, she’s evaded the question. Is this why?

“She… she got in some pretty bad debt because of her gambling problem, and they promised to help her. Only…”

“There was a catch.” I finish Tori’s sentence as she trails off. It’s clearly not easy for her to talk about.

“She was… forced to work in one of their ‘clubs,’ but they’re practically just a front for brothels. The work made her miserable, so she started buying drugs from them to cope, which only landed her in more debt. Eventually she…”

She doesn’t need to finish the sentence. I know what tends to happen to women who get dragged into their trafficking rings. It’s no wonder Tori never talks about her family. Her face says it all: it’s a subject that just reopens old wounds.

But that’s not the most important thing right now.

“Tori, you’re in a lot of trouble right now.”

“Hm? Whaddyou mean?”

“That new teacher, Dojima… he’s not a teacher. He’s a Seiryou. A yakuza. They’ve tracked you to the school.”

The miserable look on her face is immediately replaced by shock and fear.

“H-how? I was so careful…”

“When going against these types, it’s impossible to be careful enough. The slightest misstep will give you away. You need to lay low for a while, they’re sending everything they’ve got after you. Including me.”

She looks up from the ground and meets my eye.

“You… they’re sending you after me?”

“For fifty million in cash. Who knows what else they’ll commit to stop you?”

She steps back and brings up her guard, but seems hesitant.

“...you’re not planning to take me in? Even for such a big payout?”

“Of course not. I’m going to help you.”

She sighs and lowers her guard. It seems she’s made the decision to trust me.

“Okay then. What’s our next move?”