"Rowan?"
Everywhere went quiet. The kind of quiet that came alongside a sudden shock wave. Rowan was right there, body on a stretcher, pale, half covered with a white cloth.
I could see him over the glass, through the locked room where a woman with orange hair, like his, just kept hitting against the door, seemingly calling out his name as if he could still hear her.
Turned out, he couldn't.
Looking at him in that freezer. My mind went blank. No process. It was like a bad wound in me that was staying neutral, refusing to bleed. I walked towards the glass slowly, placed my fingers on it, then called his name again:
"Rowan..." I heard my voice shiver through every word. "Come on dude, wake up."
"Ren—"
"Come on now dude. Don't make me seem like the bad guy." I kept muttering, now starting to hit the glass calmly. "You also wanted to stand up for yourself, didn't you? Didn't you want to learn how to fight?"
"Ren—"
A hand rested firmly on my shoulder. Then something in my brain gestured for mental purchase. I turned around and met the eyes of the Bureau officer who was supposed to be in charge of Julian's case. The same one who'd found us in the middle of the street the other day.
"I'm...sorry about what happened." He said with some kind of calmness that got on my nerves. Then his hands found his waist. "Look, I want to help you set this right. But to do that, I need to know what actually happened that day—"
"Julian." I cut him off. "What about Julian?" I met his eyes, anger evident in my tone. "Is he still under detention?"
"Yeah, about that..." The officer let out a short sigh as he slightly looked away from me. "Julian was...bailed off."
I didn't reply, I just kept the same straight look, only this time with a deeper frown.
"The BHD only reported that he was forced to be a part of this coordinated ambush." The officer said with raised arms. "Apparently, there was no evidence to prove that Julian was directly involved in the harming of Rowan."
"Evidence?" I scoffed. "Someone just died, and you're gonna just sit around and wait for evidence?!"
"Ren..."
Whatever he was about to say, I didn't wait for him to finish. I just walked past him, storming out of the room and slamming the door behind me.
"Ren, wait!"
***
[External POV]
BANG. BANG.
"King!"
Whatever was causing the aggressive knocking on his class door at 11:30 in the morning, Zael already knew the highlight. But not today. Not when he was still trying to get over the messed-up catchphrases in his head.
Break up. End it. At least, those were the words Seraphine had used for her pitching. The usual trademark words. The same words he'd always thought would come from him instead of her.
And right there on the rooftop, he'd been too helpless to defend against it. To protect against both of them. He'd just been quiet, didn't ask her why she wanted to break up, didn't try to beg for her understanding either. He just nodded and walked away like he understood.
Or at least, he pretended to.
But his cigarettes knew better. He'd whisk out a stick once every hour, light it, and drag on it with all the suffocation that came with being broken up with. He'd been taught never to give out emotions, expressions, reactions. Unfortunately, however, he'd loved Seraphine deeper than all that.
"King, this is important!" The banging continued. "Dante and his gang are on their way here."
He knew. Of course, he knew. If only Dante weren't so weak, he would've personally walked down the halls to roll out a red carpet for the gang boss. Maybe bow respectfully to him before taking the first blow.
But Dante was weak. Not just physically, but also mentally. First, he'd hesitated on an immediate response after Silvic High students got his gang members beaten up in the arena.
And just when he was going to respond, he'd discarded the option to ambush and decided that storming into Silvic High in broad daylight was the best way to settle the scores.
"What an idiot." Zael laughed amid his words. Then he stuffed the butt of his cigarette against a small tumbler, waving smoke towards the window. "Why does he keep doing the stupidest things?"
He walked towards the door, flung it a few inches open and positioned himself in the gap.
"Inform the others." He said with a bored voice. "If anyone is interested, let them fight that asshole and his ponies."
The high tier just stood at the door, something more than fear in his eyes. Bewilderment. It qualified that Zael was a high tier. The second strongest high tier in Silvic High. But no matter the odds, Dante remained a gang boss. His proximity to power was on another level entirely.
That was enough reason to be scared.
"What about you?" He dared to ask. "He wants to fight you."
"And unfortunately for both of us, I kinda have to take a nap," Zael said, with a slightly forced yawn. "My brain hurts."
With that, he closed the door.
***
[Author's POV]
EAST HIGH SCHOOLdidn't look like much. Just a low-budget construction dump at the end of the street. Rusty gates, weak fences, stained white walls with vines overgrowing on them. It looked like something that'd stopped being maintained for over a decade.
And that was just the same for the students. They looked rash, uncoordinated, and the first impression you'd ever get was a bunch of them smoking near trash cans.
Thankfully, none of them bothered to stop me. There were a few glances as I passed by them, maybe also a just a few death threats, considering that I was still in my Silvic High uniform— but regardless, it seemed like they were too scared to make the judgment themselves.
I walked into something that looked like their hallway. An outstretched tunnel of assholes, slamming lockers, chewing and blowing bubble gum. One idiot— apparently a junior— was testing out a paper plane when it flew past me. I caught it, crumpled it in my hand and let whatever was left of it drop to the floor.
"Hey asshole—"
I met his eyes. He stopped talking.
"Where's Julian?" I asked.
He hesitated at first, probably quivering with...fear? Then he turned around, pointing a hand towards the stairway a few metres ahead of me. "Class A-3."
I walked away from him, headed up the stairs to the next floor. Class A-3 was at the far end of the hall, through the door, I saw that there was a teacher in the class. A young woman who looked like she'd completely lost it, trying to deal with stubborn teenagers.
She was yelling, maybe. Whatever it was that she was doing, it was definitely a scold. And I wasn't going to wait for the last minute of that episode.
I pushed the door open, not with the energy of someone who was about to make a really dramatic entrance. My eyes had just found Julian, sitting near the window at the back of the class.
Somehow, he managed to stand out among his classmates. He wasn't snickering like they were, he had a straight face on. The kind of expression that almost made me think he'd recently lost his grandmother and wasn't finding it funny.
"And who are you—?" The teacher's eyes found me first, and the rest followed. Twenty pairs of curious eyes.
I didn't stop moving. I headed towards Julian's desk, ignoring the surprised slash astonished expression on his face when he saw me.
Then, WHACK! The blow landed right in his face. He tumbled over from his chair, and as he fell, I heard a wheezed chuckle from him. The kind that found its way into my nerves and added to the anger that was already there.
"Hey, what do you think you're doing—"
I didn't wait for the teacher to finish. I just went at Julian again, lifting him by the collar, staring deep into his unremorseful eyes. Murderer. And apparently, the Bureau knew that and still let him go—
WHACK!
I felt something smash against my back. A chair. The pain registered itself in the worst way possible. With fully engaged endurance, I threw Julian off and against the desks, turning around slowly towards the guy who'd just hit me. He was holding a sturdy piece of wood, probably the remains of the chair he'd smashed against my back.
"Die, you piece of shit!" He came at me again, attempting to stab. I knocked the wood off his hands, directing a punch into his skull.
Another attacked from behind. I caught his wrist, twisted until it broke and threw my fist into his gut. He groaned as he went down. Two more guys came from behind, with the same uniform blow that hadn't worked in the last two attempts. I ducked, grabbed both their heads and slammed them against each other.
The remaining guys surrounded me, fear visible in their eyes. They'd even activated their abilities as an addition— evident from the glow in their eyes. But none of them came towards me. They stepped back when I took a step forward, grabbing the barely conscious guy on the ground and then, WHACK, landed a stronger punch in his jaw.
"Everyone. Out." Julian ordered, testing his jaw as he stood. "Now."
His eyes settled on me, a kind of look I didn't care to define, knowing I was building up quite the anger. Everyone in the class quietly ushered themselves out, including the teacher— who hesitated a bit— but left like she had no choice. Apparently, she didn't.
"Breaking into my school premises just to attack me," Julian chuckled inwardly, his eyes moving to his uniform as he dusted it off. "You really don't know what you've gotten yourself into, do you?"
Whether or not I had a reply, he didn't wait for it. He threw himself viciously at me, grabbing my torso. I left the ground in a split second, and just like that, we were both heading towards a window.
CRASH!