Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Pistol-whipped ❯ The Boy and the Girl ( Chapter 2 )

Gotta listen to the song;
”Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is”
by Jet
Quickie download: http://download.yousendit.com/BB5F6ABE5825A731

 

 

On with the story...

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Agate High.

 

 

She's a loaded gun,
In my shaking hand

 

 

A throng of dark-haired Japanese teenagers horded into the front doors of the school on the outskirts of Japan's capital, a loud bell sounding around the entire building. Chatting, hugging, and squealing even, to their friends, people they hadn't seen for quite some time. The summer air was buzzing with excitement, as it should be. The sun was bright, the grass was green, and everyone was smiling.

 

It was always like this on the first day of school.

 

“Ryu? Ryu?!” Large, expressive dark eyes glowered at him as they walked side by side towards their school, as they had done every day since they were six. “Are you listening?” She huffed and put her hands on her hips for effect. He faced forward but turned his eyes to the girl at his right. Her black hair flowed over her shoulders and just below her ample breasts. She made quite the pretty picture.

 

 

Am I in Hell?
Or the promise land?
Yeah

 

 

Arai Naomi was turning seventeen this year. He had known her for almost eleven years. They were good friends, next door neighbors, and their parents got along. Well, before the accident. In the earliest stages of their friendship, they hated each other. He would bully her and she would kick him in the nuts all the time. An odd relationship. Hate had turned into acceptance, which became a mutual liking, which turned into a strong bond of trust. Trust?

 

I lie to you all the time, Naomi.

 

 

So I'll tell you my name when I'm on your skin,
You can be the Queen and I'll be the King

 

He lifted one cushioned earphone with a tanned hand and regarded her, with a deep voice and relaxed accent, “Nanda, Naomi?”

 

Her name rolled off his tongue so naturally. She watched it flick through his moving lips; they were smooth and almost sensual. His chin never moved much when he talked, as if he couldn't be bothered opening his mouth enough to say something. She eyed the high collar of his uniform, stiff and black, skimming his sharp jaw. Anyway, what were they talking about?

 

“You can be so rude sometimes!” She flicked her hands up in exasperation, moving freely in the short sleeved sailor uniform. “You were listening to music again! And while I was talking to you!”

 

He furrowed his black eyebrows as he eyed her form. That skirt was just too short. She didn't notice his hands become quivering fists at his sides. She didn't notice his Adam's apple rise and fall when he swallowed hard.

 

 

I was born to echo but I'll never repeat,
Not for anyone,
Anyone

 

 

“Are you even paying attention?” He blinked and half listened to Jet in his left ear and Naomi in his right, used to taking in two sets of sounds. “You're so polite to everyone but me...” He blinked, black lashes shielding black eyes for a flicker of a moment. It was a few seconds before he replied.

 

“I have to be polite to everyone.” Simple as that. He was the elected student president of the school. He had responsibilities, and was definitely pressured on being articulate and approachable. He didn't much have time during school to listen to his music, so he used the time it took to walk to and from. Still, they can get fucked if they tell him to get rid of his earphones.

 

 

She said:
'Show me yours'
I'll show you what I got, yeah

 

She sighed. How many times would they have this argument? She stopped walking and grasped his arm softly, urging him to do the same. He froze. She took a moment to take in his appearance, that ruffled mass of hair, the god forsaken headset of earphones half hidden in it. Her eyes trailed lower to his bare ear, pierced with a small silver hoop at the top, then to the messy sideburn of short hairs that trailed a little along his jaw. She marveled at how much he had grown; noticed how his soft boyish features had gone hard over the years. It stirred things within her...then she remembered what they were talking about. She asked, with a soft voice,

“What's so different about me?” She heard him sigh.

 

Everything...

 

“Naomi--”

 

“Nao-chaaaan!!!” The call came from not far ahead of the pair as two squealing girls came plummeting toward the surprised girl, dark blue school skirts fanning around their legs. They promptly `glomped' her.

 

 

When you tell me what you need,
So put your money where your mouth is,
Wow!

 

 

“Yu-chan! Ai-chan!” A smile sparkled its way to her lips and she forgot all about her troubles with her childhood friend. She hugged her two girlfriends, the trio of them all but inseparable during school hours. Her friends proceeded to try and blabber out all of the events of the holidays and the fresh school gossip hot off the blackboard--all at once. Naomi blurred it out for a moment and turned to her student president, ready to apologize and say a `see you later'.

 

She was met with his retreating form, broad back covered with black school blazer. Again she noticed how much he had grown, how appealing he had become. How appealing he had always been. Their houses were closely packed beside each other, and even though he lived alone, his apartment was two stories. Their bedrooms on the second floor faced each other, and each had a tiny, tiny balcony that overlooked the thin alleyway between them. She spent nights staring into his large glass balcony doors, trying to make out shadows and shapes beyond the translucent curtains. Her homework desk faced the window, so she would always stop every hour or so during her studies to look into his room.

 

And she'd see his silhouette fucking some other girl from school.

 

 

And the beat goes on,
She'll know that nothing is wrong

 

 

She kept watching him walk away, suppressing the devastation she had felt the first time he had taken someone home, the first time she found out that she wasn't the only girl in his life. The feeling of being left behind, not wanted any longer, discarded without another thought. He had suddenly become a different person, no longer the shy boy she had grown up with. He was older now. Hormones had taken over and he could have whoever he wanted. It was only natural, right? But then, their relationship continued as if nothing had happened. His antics with women were known but remained unspoken between the two friends. They knew if they spoke them they'd be treading dangerous ground. He just had to know how she felt, but never said anything about it. If she asked about the girls he screwed around with, she'd end up revealing her feelings, ruining a lifetime of loyalty and companionship.

 

So instead, she watched him take girl after girl, and sunk further into depression.

 

He was very skinny, of average height and had naturally tinted skin. A unique appearance and a standing contradiction. There he was, walking away lazily listening to music, pierced ear and all. Not the picture you get when you hear student president. She left him to ditch her; Naomi knew he had a lot of work to do on the first day of school, and that he didn't fancy her friends so much.

 

 

She goes down...
Like the setting sun...
...Oh

 

 

Her heart fell when she saw more than interested glances thrown at him from girls. They probably noticed the changes he had gone through on the holidays as well. She scanned over all of them, some having dated him already. Anger. They could never care to see what he was really like, his personality. All they saw was tall, dark and handsome, and oh, `he's got a piercing and likes rock, so he's cool'. He never came to her for advice about girls. She always felt so left out when he had a girlfriend. She wasn't jealous, just...

 

They could have him, and she never stood a chance.

 

“Naomi-chan?” A chattering Aiko pulled her from her thoughts and she tried to shake off the dreamy expression she knew was plastered on her face.

 

It was always there when she was thinking of Nagara Ryunosuke.

 

“Maa, are you listening?! Seiji kissed her!” A pig-tailed head bobbed in front of her face, small eyes excited. “And they aren't even dating!” The small girl called Yuki rolled her eyes and threw a hand in the air. What unbelievable news!

 

“Forget about Seiji and his girlfriends for a second;” Naomi was anxious to change the subject, but grateful her friends hadn't noticed her staring at her crush's ass. “What did you do on the holidays?”

 

 

What's your name?
If I tell you my name you got to let me in,
You can be the Sinner and I'll be the Sin

 

Their chatter was swallowed by the mass of noise that had settled comfortably in the air. Students continued to flood into the building, black uniform shoes toppling into lockers everywhere as the teens switched to their indoor footwear. It was a while before the swarm was settled into their respective classrooms, seniors on the top floor and juniors on the bottom. Naomi settled into her new desk for the year and took in her new classmates, all of whom she already knew.

 

Her heart jumped, a spastic little jolt she hadn't expected, when she spotted Ryunosuke's bag slung over an empty chair.

 

 

I take what I want and it's easy to see,
I've got everything,
Everything

 

 

`Nagara Naomi'...

 

...where the hell did that come from?!

 

 

***

 

 

“Another one, Kouchou-sensei.”

The principal of Agate High School swiveled his office chair to regard his vice. Another one. Another innocent girl was dead. Raped and murdered. Unacceptable.

 

“We need to inform the public...”

“That there's a rapist in our school?” Unacceptable. The publicity, the panic.

 

“You would only be confirming the many rumors that are circulating.” The tall vice-principle straightened his glasses and held his clipboard to his chest. “We need to get everyone on guard.”

 

“Very well.” He swiveled his chair around again and looked out a large window. It overlooked the entire school; the first-day buzz flittered through the mass of smiling students. They had no idea. The morning sunlight beamed through the blinds into his office. “Get Nagara in here.”

 

“Sir.” The vice principal gave a customary bow and turned to leave the room. He halted when he heard his senior's voice call from behind the polished mahogany desk.

 

“I'll call someone in to do a self-defense and safety seminar for the students.” He couldn't see the principal's face, but the dejected tone of his voice gave enough away. “Make it compulsory. As a part of Health classes or perhaps P.E.” The middle-aged man rubbed his temples, willing away the stress of the situation.

 

The vice principal gave another bow before he left, the click of the closing door echoing in the room. The light from the window caught the dust particles in the air, floating around books and award cabinets. A sigh resounded through the organized room.

 

“She was a good student...”

 

 

 

***

 

 

“Fucking hell...”

 

The stench was horrible. Sex, blood, death. It was thick in the air; the taste was harsh on his tongue. He ran a hand through his hair, sparing no mercy for the mohawk he had styled it into. He ducked under the yellow police tape into the pink bedroom, quickly observing the few CSIs working around the room. He scanned the walls, noted the photos, and the little splotches of blood that had splattered onto smiling faces. The police dusted for fingerprints, the forensics ear-budded saliva, sperm and blood, and detectives surveyed the room with a hand rubbing their chin, as if they had a clue.

 

His stomach lurched when his eyes fell on the bed. His throat constricted and his heart screamed. The smell made his eyes water...Don't pretend it's the smell that makes you want to cry.

 

But no-one would know that. None of it showed. And that was as it should be. That was what he was trained to do. Steel his jaw, eliminate his emotions.

 

Fucking bastard...

 

“Are you the one from Sigma?” A tall, intimidating man stepped up beside him. “Alex, was it?”

 

“Alexander Craft.” He replied in short, with a clipped voice. That's the way it had to be with these officials, he needed to make an impression, or he would be underestimated because of his age. “This is why I was dragged from the states?” He pointed his chin toward the depressing crime scene, tried to block out the gut wrenching sobs he heard coming from another room. Her little brother...Her parents.

 

“Our associates here in Japan asked for our help.” The man had a beard, it wasn't very long but Alexander could easily imagine something getting stuck in it. “This one's dangerous.” It had been going on for a long time. The young Craft crossed his arms, the slender muscles bunching together and flaunted with the sleeveless muscle shirt he wore.

 

He looked at the young girl, her legs spread and her head lolled to the side. He eyed the bodily fluids caked on her with disgust. “What came up from the DNA tests?” He clenched his teeth together as the sudden urge to punch something overrode his senses. There was nothing lower, nothing more vile or repulsive than a rapist. He opened his ears to the cries coming from the other room. Her loved ones were in pain. He tried to sympathize, tried to imagine it happening to someone he cared abou--

 

Instantaneous. His blood pumped vigorously through him, hot and fast, driven by the thundering of his heart. Pure anger, pure rage.

 

That will never happen.

 

“The tests were useless. No results.” The bearded man beside him spoke with a gruff voice. The scarred tissue on his face spoke volumes of experience and years of action. An exciting life now reduced to a desk job. This man was also an American, well, Alexander thought he was an American, but you couldn't really tell. Sigma was like that. Secretive. Private. “It's as if the bastard doesn't exist. No records whatsoever.” He brushed a stocky hand through his beard. “The only data we have is that of the victims.”

 

Data. Statistics.

 

An innocent girl was fucked up. Forget your data and your statistics.

 

“And that's why you needed us.” Alex the smart-ass kicked in, hiding the Alex who was very close to screaming, burning ever so hotly on the surface of his self-control.

 

“No, that's why we needed you.” It's not even like the boy had a choice. He was picked, one out of a million, to live this life. The organization that discreetly calls itself Sigma had seen to that. Plucked the boy from an orphanage and trained him to be a customized soldier. “All of the girls went to the same school; all of the women had children who went to this same school--”

 

In true seventeen-year-old fashion, Alexander interrupted. “I got it, I got it.” He turned away from the scene, inwardly silencing his inner pain. “Undercover job, right?” He flicked his trusty handgun from a holster at his hip and twirled it around an index finger.

 

Before the other man could reply, Alexander Craft was strolling away from the bloodied pink room with arrogance, trying his best to conceal his emotions. He tried to see the case objectively, tried his best not to let it get under his skin, make it personal. It was his job, his responsibility to his country. Maybe he was too young to handle this sort of thing.

 

But damn,

 

When I find this bastard... I'm gonna tear his fucking throat out.

 

 

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To be continued...

Nyah =3
I'm really not happy with this chapter, but I'm glad it's over. All this `in between' and `lead up' plot is annoying to write -.- Next chapter I'll get into Ryunosuke's head and have some fun with Alexander *wink*

Hmm, I'll be having some Japanese in this fic, so I'll translate a few things;
Nanda - `Nani' means `what' and the `Da' on the end is a plain from of speaking used by boys, or girls that wanna sound cool XD

Maa - A bit hard to explain, it's more a word of exasperation or used when you're trying to calm someone down.

Kouchou-sensei - Principal. (not his name)