Untitled Story #764531
Series Title : Caster College
Series Rating : PG-13 - NC-17
Word Count: 5,607
Author's Note [1]: I decided to conform to a more standard posting style. I debate on posting the word count, because just seeing that many words makes some people run for cover...
Chapter 2 : The Second Day is Never Easier Than the First
The loud ringing of a bell made her body twitch in irritation. Her hand reached out and slammed on the alarm and she flopped over to her back. She looked at the fuzzy red blob in front of her and waited for it to clear. It was 5:45, and she wondered why she said she was going to wake up that early...
Training, that's why. She grumbled to herself and pulled her body out of the bed. She went into the bathroom and pulled out her bandages. She pulled off her sports bra and started to wrap her chest. Once she was satisfied with it being flat enough, she pulled on the gym uniform she'd had on yesterday. She picked up the rubber band and pulled her hair back, and she officially was a he.
He opened the door on the back wall to the, as he called it, 'mini-dojo'. It was empty, fortunately, and he went inside, closing the door behind him. It would have been too small if there was one for every room, so two rooms shared it. He had yet to see the person who lived next to him, but hoped they didn't like morning warm-ups, too, or there would be a problem.
He went back into the room and brought a towel and water bottle back out with him. Thirty minutes would be good for a warm up, and then he could get ready for school. He did stretches to loosen up before readying himself in the middle of the room. He took a deep breath before going into the first movements. He made minimum sound as he stepped across the wood floors. There was whipping as his hands and feet sliced the air.
A roundhouse kick followed by a high kick to debilitate. The punch to the gut to render them unconscious. He kept going, repeated it all over again but faster. One, two. One, two, three.
He flipped backward twice and fell to the ground and spun on one foot as if kicking someone's feet out from under them. Then his fist came within an inch of the ground as if bashing in their head. He let out a deep breath and stood. Finished.
He grabbed his towel and wiped off the sweat that poured from his face. He looped it around the back of his neck and gave a final stretch. He picked up the water bottle and turned. The blonde from yesterday who had gone just before Traine stared at him. Ryan stared back. That guy, for the lack of a better word, was very... pretty...
"You start early in the morning." The guy responded in a rich voice, walking in from his room and setting down his own towel and water bottle. "We haven't actually introduced ourselves." He held out his hand. "I'm Blaine Thorps."
"Ryan Sharps." He shook his hand. "I'm done here, so it's all yours."
"I was going to kick you out anyway, but it looked like you were wrapping up."
Ryan blinked, a thought coming to him. "How many people make fun of you because your name rhymes with Traine's?"
Blaine's smile widened. "Plenty, and I beat up every one of them," he added with a threatening undertone. "Not as badly as Traine though. It's a wonder he hasn't been expelled yet..."
"He's too good a fighter to lose over something like that," Ryan muttered, taking a big gulp from his water bottle and leaving. "I'm going to be doing this every morning, so get used to it." He slammed the door behind him.
Blaine chuckled. "I don't care as long as you’re out of here by the time I get in here."
Ryan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Staring into the mirror he prepared himself. There was one more guy joining, and despite his poor performance yesterday, if Wilkes took an interest in him, he had the potential to be more than just another competitor...
Stepping out of the bathroom fully dressed for school, he looked around. He grabbed a breakfast bar off the tabletop and ripped it open. He put it halfway into his mouth as he walked to the door. Slipping his shoes on, he idly thought of who his other neighbor was until he realized he was in the last bedroom at the end of the hall. He only had one neighbor...
He opened the door and swallowed the half-bar he'd been chewing. It slid closed behind him and he secured his case in his hand. His feet guided him down the hall towards the stairs. Ryan heard a door open from one of the rooms in front of him and it aroused his curiosity. He slowed his pace to wait for the person to come out. His eyes were assaulted by the one person he didn't want to see.
Traine.
"Oh look, it's the little bitch. Going to school today? Not going to run away?" He laughed, a hand coming up to smack Ryan on the back as they walked down the hall.
Ryan batted the hand away with a dark, "Fuck off."
"Ooh, angry today?"
"I can't believe I live 3 doors down from the biggest bastard on campus. My whole experience here is going to be tainted."
"Speak for yourself. Your weakness is sucking the strength right out of me."
"What was that?!" Ryan shouted, stopping midway down the first flight of steps.
"I didn't say a word."
Ryan clenched his fist. "You said I was weak!"
"You barely beat Thomas yesterday, and he's 11th."
"I'm out of practice! When I start training seriously, I'll kick your ass!"
There was more laughter from Traine. "Whatever, midget."
"I'm 5'9"!"
"And I'm 6'1", midget."
"Aaa! You fucking bastard!"
"At least I can get some."
There was a hollow bang as Ryan's fist hit the wall. "There's nothing good about being a whore!"
"Somebody's not getting any," Traine mocked in a sing-song voice.
"I've fucked plenty of gu-" he cut himself short. God. He's almost said he'd fucked plenty of guys. THAT would have damned him. "This is ridiculous!"
"Eh? I didn't hear you?" Traine put up a hand to his ear as he exited the stairwell. "You've fucked plenty of what? Fake, plastic pussies that you bought in the downtown sex shop? Ultimate Vagina 2000 Pleasure Pack?"
"You sleeze! Don't make me use your favorite toys in your sick fantasies!"
"You're the one who can't get any. Don't blame me for fueling your sex fantasies."
"You're a pervert!" It echoed in the small living room that served as a lobby entrance to the building.
The few guys that were occupying the couches and chairs paused at sipping their drinks before giving chortles amusement.
"Did he just figure that out?" One muttered from behind his can of soda.
"He missed the time before class yesterday morning when he was talking about Sarah." Another mumbled from the opposite couch.
"Sarah?! Isn't she that blonde from the Bristle School of Combat with the big tits?"
"Yeah, she is."
"You lucky bastard!" The first one joked, hitting Traine on the arm. "She's supposed to be a major prick."
"I guess I loosened her up a bit," Traine said with a laugh.
Disgusted, Ryan walked towards the exit. "You *are* a slut."
Coming from out of the stairwell, Blaine spied Ryan storming from the building. "What's up with him?"
"He's sexually frustrated," Traine answered with a shrug.
"After listening to all your exploits, any normal guy would thing he's sterile or something."
"Do you think you're sterile?"
"We all are, since we take that pill every week to kill our sperm," Blaine replied with a small smile.
"I'd like to think my little soldiers are just as virile as they should be."
"If they were, you'd have at least a dozen children and 8 different mothers."
Traine stroked his chin. "Yeah. The population at Bristle would be pretty slim."
"They take birth control, dumb ass. The rest of the population, however, wouldn't be spared. Girls don't get their surgery done until they're 16, and it's expensive. You like them around that age, too, you fucking pedophile."
"Get over it! It was that one 17 year old girl, and she was only 2 months from being 18!"
"That was when you dumped her, stupid fuck. You started dating her when she was 16."
"I was only 18!"
"Pedophile."
"Shut the fuck up and stop standing in the way," a monotonous voice grunted from a few feet away.
"Well, well, well, isn't it Blake the Flake? How are we this morning?" Traine smirked.
"You're slower than a freight train, as usual. You should try to upgrade your engines or something."
"You stupid fuck! You wanna say that during 6th period today? You're still in 3rd, weakling!"
"Having red hair doesn't give you an excuse to be a flaming idiot." Blake swiped at the black hair that fell in his face.
"You're asking for it." Traine pointed a finger. "After I'm done with the fresh meat, I'm gonna kick your ass next."
A sinister smiled started to spread on Blake's face. His left hand reached for his watch. There was the sound of something clicking then the pulling of something thin.
A wire glittered in the morning light coming from the door. "Let's see whose ass is going to get kicked."
"That little string doesn't scare me, you psychotic freak."
Blake started forward, the wire suddenly multiplying and looping infinitely into the air. Traine jumped back and brought up his fists.
The glass doors slid open with a loud 'WHOOSH'. "What the hell are you guys standing around here for?! The first bell has already rung! You're going to be late!"
Blake released the end of the wire in his hand and the whipping sound of it retracting back into his watch disturbed the silence, making it that much more awkward.
An angry Wilkes stood in the open doorway, fists on his hips as he glared at the group of boys. "Get to class!"
"Yessir," was the quick mutter of them all as they filed out of the door.
Wilkes slammed his hands on both Blake and Traine's shoulders. "You both know there's no fighting in the dorm buildings. I'll have you both kicked out if I ever see it again."
There was a grumble from Traine and nothing from Blake.
"Settle these stupid pride battles during 6th period or after school in the gym with a referee." He released their shoulders. "Now get to class, both of you."
"Yessir," Trained blurted out again.
Blake glared at him from under his bangs as they both fled the building. "This is all your fault."
"It's yours, you stupid prick!"
"Frieght train!"
"Flake!"
They both stopped in the middle of the moving sidewalks.
"You say that again," Blake threatened in a low voice.
"Flake! Flake! FLAKE!"
He started to reach for his watch again when they heard the bells coming from the school.
"Oh SHIT! I'm late AGAIN!" Traine sprinted the rest of the way and up the first flight of stairs, Blake on his heels. "Mr. Smith'll have my fuckin' head..."
He tentatively pushed the button and the door slid open. He ducked as Physics books were tossed at his head. Blake had enough sense to stand to the side as the door was opened.
"I told you not to even bother coming into my class if you're going to be late again!"
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I promise! Never again!"
A dark figure loomed behind the pleading Traine. "Same excuses as always."
Traine flew forward and landed face first on the ground. The man put his foot back down as he walked into the class. His glasses glinted as he looked around the room. There was a collective sweatdrop from all.
Trained jumped to his feet. "Icchan! You bastard! You didn't have to kick me!"
The man grabbed Traine by the collar of his shirt. "That's MASTER Icchan to you, punk!"
Blake slipped by the pair and into his seat more or less unnoticed.
"Why are you always disturbing my class, Icchan?" Mr.Smith sighed.
Icchan released Traine's shirt and he collapsed back to the ground. "Ah, that's right." He pointed to Ryan, who had been staring in confusion at them the entire time. "I came for him."
"Alright, go ahead Ryan. Believe it or not, he's a certified physician," Mr.Smith waved him off.
"He's a damn sadistic nurse is what he is..." Traine rubbed his neck.
"Oh!" Icchan smiled. "Mr.Smith, I have the perfect punishment for Traine..."
"Alright, all done."
"We didn't do anything."
"I weighed you, didn't I?"
"What kind of a doctor are you?" Ryan put his shirt and pants back on.
"You only weight 130 pounds. You're a little shrimp. Eat more protein."
Ryan felt like banging his head on the wall.
He shooed him out. "Go back to class."
"Don't I need a pass or something?"
"Nah. Just hope Ms.Fink doesn't catch you."
Ryan felt a long sweatdrop fall down his head. What an incompetent doctor...
He took his time going back to class. When he opened the door, everything seemed normal. At first...
He noticed Mr.Smith behind his desk, moving up and down. His head and shoulders first appearing above the desk, then moving down so you could just see his eyes, and finally back up again.
"What the hell...?"
"Watch your mouth," Mr.Smith interjected into his lecture before going on. "So change of KE is equal to-"
Ryan stared.
"Take your seat, Ryan." Mr. Smith looked down. "You're slowing down, Traine. Keep up the pace or I'll make you start all over."
"W-WHAT?! You can't do that!"
"One. Two." Mr.Smith began to recount.
"Okay, okay! I'll pick up the pace!"
Ryan slowly made his way to his desk, the disembodied voice of Traine haunting him. He looked behind the teachers desk and saw Traine struggling to do push ups with Mr.Smith sitting cross-legged on his back.
His mouth fell open. He knew this was a private school, but still... Could they actually do that?
"Sit down, Ryan," Mr.Smith said again, only louder.
Ryan sat. His eyes kept moving back to Mr.Smith even as his hand attempted to write down notes. It was just too odd a site, and the picture of Traine struggling brought a smile to his face. Stupid bastard deserved it.
"TWO HUNDRED!"
A few people jumped at the exhausted shout that came out of nowhere.
"I'm glad you were keeping an accurate count, because if you'd try to lie, I would have made you start over."
There was an 'Ugh' from beneath the desk.
Mr.Smith rose to his full height and wiped off the back of his pants. "You sweat too much. I'm going to have to change my pants."
"And you weight too damn much!"
Mr. Smith's eyebrow arched.
Traine rose from behind the desk, uniform drenched in sweat. He pulled it away from his body with one hand and pushed his hair back with the other. "Jesus! That damn Icchan! I'll get that fuc-"
Mr.Smith's hand snapped up, making to smack him across the mouth. Traine's head dodged to the side and Mr.Smith's index finger popped up at the last minute, as if he hadn't attempted to hit him.
"Watch your mouth, Traine. I'll make you give me 200 laps next time I hear another indecent word pass those lips of yours."
Traine snorted and collapsed into his seat. Damn! His arms were sore as a bitch, and guaranteed Wilkes wouldn't go easy on him. He smirked. Then again, he was supposed to fight that little pussy Ryan today. He might get off easy after all...
"So M sub 1 H 1/2 plus-"
Ryan found it hard to pay attention to the lesson. First, it had been because of the ludicrously perverted up and down motions of the teacher, and now because of the amazing amount of heat that was coming from his left side. Traine was still sweat profusely, and was doing something akin to panting like a fuckin dog on asphault in the summer. Ryan's lip started to curl involuntarily as his anger rose.
He turned to snap at him and was greeted with a wicked grin and more panting.
"You got a problem, Sharps?" Traine started to lift himself from his chair.
A snarl started in his throat and Ryan started to rise from his seat. "You stupid fu-"
The door slid open and they both stopped. Traine's mouth twisted to a frown. "Icchan."
Icchan adjusted his glasses as he took a step into the room. "Why don't you both sit down," he instructed.
They did as they were told with much grumbling from Traine, who turned away to look out the window. Mr.Smith sighed and closed the physics book. They only had 10 minutes left, and with Icchan coming in and out of his room, there was no way to decently finish his lecture.
"Your homework is-"
"And that's MASTER ICCHAN to you!"
An eraser soared through the air in what Mr.Smith considered quite a beautiful arc, before smacking Traine in the back of the head. Yellow chalk dust came up in a cloud that descended on half the classroom.
Ryan turned his head and buried his face into his sleeve to filter out the dust. It also hid the satisfied smirk that would have been obvious on his face.
"What the hell was that for?! And why do you have chalk erasers when we only use dry-erase marker?!"
Icchan tossed another one up and caught it. "For delinquents like you."
"Why you-!"
"I don't know, yellow looks kinda good on you," Ryan chuckled from behind his sleeve, eyes lighting up. "It compliments your red hair, and looks *great* against the black of your uniform."
"You little fu-!"
Traine's pupils shrank and he released a squeak. Ducking barely in time, a physics book flew over his head to ram violenty onto the wall behind him and land with a loud 'thunk' as it hit the floor.
"WHAT YOUR MOUTH, TRAINE!"
Silence enveloped the room. Mr.Smith walked over to retrieve the book from behind Traine's desk.
Traine uneasily watched on high alert as the teacher set it down on the bookshelf. That hadn't been a normal book either. It was the super thick teacher's edition.
Still bristling, Mr.Smith leveled a glare at Icchan, but he had already fled the scene. "Stupid good for nothing," he seethed. "And you!" The teacher's eyes turned to Blake.
"Don't think I forgot your tardiness! You have just as many offenses as Traine! Next class, you're giving me 200 push-ups as well!" Cracking his knuckles, Mr.Smith's glasses shined malevolently. "Next time either of you are late, I'm going to make you run a marathon with all your limbs bound!"
"How are we supposed to run like that?!"
"YOU FIGURE OUT HOW!"
Traine shrank back. Ryan also shriveled because he was in the general area of the death glare.
The bell rang, and for a long time no one moved. Then, all of a sudden, there was a loud roar as people trampled one another to escape. Somehow, Ryan ended up in his next class and stared blankly at his worksheets in Trig. He knew how to do them, but his mind was just not functioning. Not to mention Traine spent that entire class period throwing paper balls and the like at his head.
He'd snapped on him and was about to break Traine's neck when Ms.Brykes calmly told him to go outside and cool down until the class period was over. He squatted outside the door and stared off into space, letting his anger subside.
He heard the door open behind him some time later and felt the body heat of the person standing in the doorway.
"The bell's about to ring, so come in and pack up your things," Ms.Brykes voice floated down to him.
Ryan let out a breath through his nose and allowed himself to stand. Ms.Brykes moved back towards the front of the classroom and announced the homework as she wrote it on the white, dry-erase board.
Collapsing into his chair, Ryan dropped his books into his case and closed it with a 'clack clack'. Everyone else had moved towards the door and immediately piled out when the bell rang.
The next two classes were once again a nap time for Ryan. He didn't even know what the teacher's names were... Hell. He'd even forgotten the subjects. If Kowrly State hadn't been so far ahead, he would have really fucked himself over.
He had forgotten to bring his lunch, and even though his dorm room was just across the street, it was futile to go. There wasn't any food there either. He had a few dollars, but he wasn't starving yet, so he could wait until his next pay came. He felt his stomach rumble mercilessly at him. God. He WAS starving. He might have to spend his last resort after all...
A bag landed in front of his face, but Ryan didn't have the energy to act as surprised as he was. The bag teetered precariously before falling over and showing him its contents.
His stomach released a vapid growl and he felt his lips tighten to try and control it. He was failing miserably.
"I told you to eat during lunch," a growl came from above.
Ryan looked up. All he could make out was an outline of red from the sun.
"When I kick your ass, I don't want your pussy-whipped ass excuse that you were hungry." Traine turned, leaving the bag behind.
Ryan poked at it, more than a little suspicious, despite his lack of expression. He unwrapped the sandwich and bit into it. Food always tasted best when you were starving. Chewing carefully, he wondered what nasty things Traine could have done to the sandwich and snickered. As long as he didn't put ex-lax in it, he didn't give a shit.
He poked around some more. Cheese curls? He laughed aloud. Who packed this? His mother? He ate them anyway. There was even a little caramel crunch thingy and a drink. Did his mother really make this?
Traine sauntered back over to the table where everyone eyed him. He sat back on the table and watched Ryan for a moment. "Stupid fuck. Who knows what I could have put in there."
"What *did* you put in it?" Blaine asked.
"Nothing!" Traine shouted, shaking a fist. "I wouldn't sink that low for a win!"
There was a collective "Huh?" from the group.
"I'm fighting him this afternoon, dumb asses! I'm not going to hand his ass to him only to get an excuse like 'I'm hungry!' or 'You poisened me, asshole!'!"
There was another collective 'Oh...'
Everyone looked over towards Ryan just as his head thunked on the table.
"You did poison him!!" Craig shouted.
"I DID NOT!" Traine whacked him on the back of the head. "I'll prove it to you!"
He got up and stormed over to where Ryan sat alone. He kicked the bench and Ryan's head popped up.
"W-What?!" His head turned around quickly, fists coming up.
"See! The bastard was just sleeping!!"
Everyone felt a sweatdrop fall down the sides of their heads.
"Jerk," Ryan muttered, letting his head fall back onto the table.
"Jerk huh? Who's the one who fed you?"
"You just didn't wanna feel guilty about beating up on the less fortunate," Ryan grumbled, turning his head away.
Traine laughed. He had a lot of nerve. "We'll see how much mercy I have for you later."
Ryan gave a groan.
Traine clonked back onto the table. "I can't wait until 6th."
"Should be interesting." Thomas picked at his ear.
The bell rang and everyone started to shift.
Ryan yawned, blinked a few times, then let his head hit the table again.
Everyone left, and soon he was the only one there. The eery silence caused him to lift his head. Once his vision focused, his whole body sat up in alarm. Where did everybody go? His head whipped around to find a clock.
Holy SHIT! It was almost 1:15! Lunch was over almost 30 minutes ago! He ran out the door, tripping on a few invisible cracks, and barely avoided being hit by cars as he ran across the street because the crosswalk was too far away.
He stopped, breathless, at the door outside their classroom and let loose a string of curses. Wilkes would have his head for being late on the second day of class.
He contemplated if he should skip entirely but the option was stripped from him when the door slid open and Wilkes stared down at him.
"When did you plan on coming in, Sharps? Tomorrow?" His voice barely contained his rage.
Ryan smiled nervously. He didn't know what to say. Wilkes smacked him hard on the back of the head while at the same time dragging him into the room.
Ryan rubbed his neck and sulkily went over to squat in the corner.
"Poor baby got scolded," a mocking voice floated over to him.
"Shut the fuck up," Ryan growled, glaring from under his bangs.
"Oh! So scary!"
"Thompson! You have something to say that the rest of us would like to hear?!" Wilkes booming voice filled the room.
"No," Traine said with a smile, raising his hands.
"Good. Thorps. Get your ass up here."
Blaine rose to his feet. He blinked and moved his blonde hair out of his eyes. Wilkes waved him forward and he obliged.
"Sharpes, you too."
Ryan drew himself up and came over.
"I want you two to do a medium speed mock spar, okay? It's more like a warm- up, understand? I want you to keep it up for the rest of the period, and it better not turn into a brawl by then either. Remember. Medium speed."
"Yessir," they answered in unison.
"You wanna start?"
"Sure." Ryan wasn't about to let go of the opportunity. He could set his own speed, because they probably both had different ideas of medium.
He punched, then kicked, initially driving Blaine backwards.
He looked surprised at first, and his reactions were a little late, but he soon recovered.
Doing nothing but blocking, Blaine slowly allowed himself to be push backwards. This is what Ryan considered medium? Seemed kind of fast to him. He had no doubts about him being able to last all period, but he was fighting Traine next, so he really should be managing his energy more properly.
He saw an opening and switched to attack mode, keeping up the pace. Wilkes didn't do these kinds of drills often, and it must be because he was still trying to get Ryan mixed in. They kept switching back and forth, sometimes moving a little faster to get the upper hand. It was almost up to normal speed before Ryan suddenly slowed back down, moving his forward in what seemed like slow motion.
Blaine smirked. He was a fool, to be sure, but at least he was a funny one.
Eventually, the serious spar devolved into a slow-motion parody of a fight.
Even though Wilkes had given everyone something to do, they all had stopped to watch it.
Blaine was about to administer a slow kick to Ryan's head when both he and Ryan were smacked repeatedly and landed on the ground.
"I said MEDIUM SPEED! Not a slow motion play!" Wilkes whapped the rolled up paper he'd use to smite them with in the palm of his hand "You're wasting time!"
As soon as everyone had seen Wilkes come in, they'd gone back to what they were doing. There were many chuckles at the two's demise.
Sighing, Wilkes looked at his watch. Class was almost over anyway. "Go to the showers," he said grudgingly.
Everyone funneled out the door.
"Thorps. I expect better out of you next class."
"Yessir," Blaine said with a huff, giving a slight bow before leaving.
"And you, Sharps."
Ryan gulped.
"I'm trying to give you a leg up. I can easily have you transferred to the lower classes so that you'd be among your rank."
"No, I'll behave here. I promise," Ryan pleaded, clasping his hands together.
"I'm sure you will. I'll see you after school."
"Yessir." Ryan ran out the door.
Shit. He hadn't even gone a full week and he was already starting bad habits. Ryan opened the door to his next class. There were a two people there already, Thomas and Craig.
He kept the annoyed look off his face. He'd beaten Thomas before, and he was probably still bitter about it. 'Easy for you to say. You didn't get beat by the newbie who can't even do his katas right.' If he remembered, that's what Thomas had said.
It was true, that he was out of practice, but he was going to work his ass off hard to get back up to speed. There was a *whoosh* as the door opened and the rest of the class entered. Traine scratched his head. This would be an easy fight. He gave Ryan a quick look. For someone who was supposedly so good, he was a major disappointment. He'd been hoping for a rival.
"Alright, settle down!" Instructor Dwight shouted, walking into the room from a side door. "We didn't finish last class, so Traine and Ryan, get over here."
"You should be warmed up from sparring, so get ready."
Ryan took in a deep breath and took a relaxed stance.
Traine eyed him, eyebrows furrowing. "Don't look so lax, midget. I'm taking this seriously. I wanna see how bad you are."
Ryan scowled. "Come and see, Jerk off."
Instructor Dwight raised his hand.
"Match start!"
And start it did.
Then, in less than 10 minutes, it was over.
Ryan didn't remember much of it. A lot of scrambling, growling, and a helluva lot of pain. That's why he'd passed out in the first place.
He woke up in the infirmary of the school, surrounded by white. The bed crinkled under him as he sat up slowly. His head started to pound.
"Shit..." He put a hand gently to his temple. "This isn't funny..."
"So, Sleeping Beauty is awake, hmmm? Got your ass kicked by Traine and handed to you."
"Che. Thanks, you make me feel a lot better."
Icchan took a drag off his cigarette. "You don't seem like the sort who needs coddling."
"I don't, but normal sympathy would be nice."
"Not my fault. You don't talk shit and have nothing to back it up."
Ryan glared. He would save him the 'I'm not in top form' speech, since he'd probably just throw it back in his face.
"You better take care of those bruises. They make prime targets."
Ryan's eyebrow quirked. "What'd you do? Take my shirt off?" He could feel his heart starting to pound.
"No. I just figured you'd have some if you were in a fight and knocked unconscious without head trauma."
"Yeah, anyway." Ryan got to his feet and brushed himself off. Traine had swept the fucking floor with him. There was *that* much of a difference between their strength.
He balled up his fist. Punching his other palm, he let his teeth grind together. Stupid prick...
He pulled on his shoes and stalked towards the door. "Thanks Icchan, I'll-"
"MASTER Icchan," he called.
"MASTER Icchan," Ryan corrected, "I'll owe you one." He punched the button and stormed down the hall. Now he was in a pissy mood.
He picked up his books from the locker room and went up to the gym. Wilkes wasn't there, so he could only guess he was excused from any type of practice. He looked at the clock and realized why. It was 5:30, and there was no way anyone would wait two and a half hours just for a little lesson.
He picked up his case and threw it over his shoulder. It fucking sucked. He walked outside and towards the dorms. He was still aching, and he had to go to work tonight. He went through the sliding glass doors and poked the up button for the elevator. After a few seconds, he punched it. "Stupid..." He kicked it repeatedly until there was a ding.
Satisfied, he grinned smugly at it, but it fell from his face as the doors opened.
"Oh, if it isn't little man?" Traine sneered. "Did I play too rough for you?"
"Fuck you!"
Blake brushed by them all roughly. "Stop picking on the weak."
"What!?" Ryan shouted, about to turn and swipe at him.
"Aw? Did the big boys hurt your feelings, wittle baby?" There was a round of laughter.
The elevator doors started to close. Traine's hand landed with a bang on the edge of the door and they reopened. He pushed past Ryan, still jeering at him.
"Let me know when you grow up, little punk." He pushed Ryan back into the elevator.
Ryan gave a surprised shout and fell backwards. He started a curse as he got back up but the doors closed. He raised his foot and kicked the doors violently. He could still hear their laughter outside.
He slammed his hand down on the 2. It glowed and the elevator started to move. Mother fucker, twisting the fucking knife! He glowered at the door, body shaking in fury.
He would KILL that bastard! He would train and get stronger so that he’d kick his ass, but he had other things to attend to first…
Author's Note : So the cliche hijinks continue, but it could be worse, right? I decided to go the sadly cliche route and name the story after the school until I figure something else out. ::laughs:: One day, I guess, I'll be good at coming up with story names and not just character names. I also need a beta besides myself. ::shrugs:: Maybe not even a beta, just someone to help me cut this story up into smaller chapters. I look, but I don't see many natural chapter breaks in my story...
Series Rating : PG-13 - NC-17
Word Count: 5,607
Author's Note [1]: I decided to conform to a more standard posting style. I debate on posting the word count, because just seeing that many words makes some people run for cover...
Chapter 2 : The Second Day is Never Easier Than the First
The loud ringing of a bell made her body twitch in irritation. Her hand reached out and slammed on the alarm and she flopped over to her back. She looked at the fuzzy red blob in front of her and waited for it to clear. It was 5:45, and she wondered why she said she was going to wake up that early...
Training, that's why. She grumbled to herself and pulled her body out of the bed. She went into the bathroom and pulled out her bandages. She pulled off her sports bra and started to wrap her chest. Once she was satisfied with it being flat enough, she pulled on the gym uniform she'd had on yesterday. She picked up the rubber band and pulled her hair back, and she officially was a he.
He opened the door on the back wall to the, as he called it, 'mini-dojo'. It was empty, fortunately, and he went inside, closing the door behind him. It would have been too small if there was one for every room, so two rooms shared it. He had yet to see the person who lived next to him, but hoped they didn't like morning warm-ups, too, or there would be a problem.
He went back into the room and brought a towel and water bottle back out with him. Thirty minutes would be good for a warm up, and then he could get ready for school. He did stretches to loosen up before readying himself in the middle of the room. He took a deep breath before going into the first movements. He made minimum sound as he stepped across the wood floors. There was whipping as his hands and feet sliced the air.
A roundhouse kick followed by a high kick to debilitate. The punch to the gut to render them unconscious. He kept going, repeated it all over again but faster. One, two. One, two, three.
He flipped backward twice and fell to the ground and spun on one foot as if kicking someone's feet out from under them. Then his fist came within an inch of the ground as if bashing in their head. He let out a deep breath and stood. Finished.
He grabbed his towel and wiped off the sweat that poured from his face. He looped it around the back of his neck and gave a final stretch. He picked up the water bottle and turned. The blonde from yesterday who had gone just before Traine stared at him. Ryan stared back. That guy, for the lack of a better word, was very... pretty...
"You start early in the morning." The guy responded in a rich voice, walking in from his room and setting down his own towel and water bottle. "We haven't actually introduced ourselves." He held out his hand. "I'm Blaine Thorps."
"Ryan Sharps." He shook his hand. "I'm done here, so it's all yours."
"I was going to kick you out anyway, but it looked like you were wrapping up."
Ryan blinked, a thought coming to him. "How many people make fun of you because your name rhymes with Traine's?"
Blaine's smile widened. "Plenty, and I beat up every one of them," he added with a threatening undertone. "Not as badly as Traine though. It's a wonder he hasn't been expelled yet..."
"He's too good a fighter to lose over something like that," Ryan muttered, taking a big gulp from his water bottle and leaving. "I'm going to be doing this every morning, so get used to it." He slammed the door behind him.
Blaine chuckled. "I don't care as long as you’re out of here by the time I get in here."
Ryan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Staring into the mirror he prepared himself. There was one more guy joining, and despite his poor performance yesterday, if Wilkes took an interest in him, he had the potential to be more than just another competitor...
Stepping out of the bathroom fully dressed for school, he looked around. He grabbed a breakfast bar off the tabletop and ripped it open. He put it halfway into his mouth as he walked to the door. Slipping his shoes on, he idly thought of who his other neighbor was until he realized he was in the last bedroom at the end of the hall. He only had one neighbor...
He opened the door and swallowed the half-bar he'd been chewing. It slid closed behind him and he secured his case in his hand. His feet guided him down the hall towards the stairs. Ryan heard a door open from one of the rooms in front of him and it aroused his curiosity. He slowed his pace to wait for the person to come out. His eyes were assaulted by the one person he didn't want to see.
Traine.
"Oh look, it's the little bitch. Going to school today? Not going to run away?" He laughed, a hand coming up to smack Ryan on the back as they walked down the hall.
Ryan batted the hand away with a dark, "Fuck off."
"Ooh, angry today?"
"I can't believe I live 3 doors down from the biggest bastard on campus. My whole experience here is going to be tainted."
"Speak for yourself. Your weakness is sucking the strength right out of me."
"What was that?!" Ryan shouted, stopping midway down the first flight of steps.
"I didn't say a word."
Ryan clenched his fist. "You said I was weak!"
"You barely beat Thomas yesterday, and he's 11th."
"I'm out of practice! When I start training seriously, I'll kick your ass!"
There was more laughter from Traine. "Whatever, midget."
"I'm 5'9"!"
"And I'm 6'1", midget."
"Aaa! You fucking bastard!"
"At least I can get some."
There was a hollow bang as Ryan's fist hit the wall. "There's nothing good about being a whore!"
"Somebody's not getting any," Traine mocked in a sing-song voice.
"I've fucked plenty of gu-" he cut himself short. God. He's almost said he'd fucked plenty of guys. THAT would have damned him. "This is ridiculous!"
"Eh? I didn't hear you?" Traine put up a hand to his ear as he exited the stairwell. "You've fucked plenty of what? Fake, plastic pussies that you bought in the downtown sex shop? Ultimate Vagina 2000 Pleasure Pack?"
"You sleeze! Don't make me use your favorite toys in your sick fantasies!"
"You're the one who can't get any. Don't blame me for fueling your sex fantasies."
"You're a pervert!" It echoed in the small living room that served as a lobby entrance to the building.
The few guys that were occupying the couches and chairs paused at sipping their drinks before giving chortles amusement.
"Did he just figure that out?" One muttered from behind his can of soda.
"He missed the time before class yesterday morning when he was talking about Sarah." Another mumbled from the opposite couch.
"Sarah?! Isn't she that blonde from the Bristle School of Combat with the big tits?"
"Yeah, she is."
"You lucky bastard!" The first one joked, hitting Traine on the arm. "She's supposed to be a major prick."
"I guess I loosened her up a bit," Traine said with a laugh.
Disgusted, Ryan walked towards the exit. "You *are* a slut."
Coming from out of the stairwell, Blaine spied Ryan storming from the building. "What's up with him?"
"He's sexually frustrated," Traine answered with a shrug.
"After listening to all your exploits, any normal guy would thing he's sterile or something."
"Do you think you're sterile?"
"We all are, since we take that pill every week to kill our sperm," Blaine replied with a small smile.
"I'd like to think my little soldiers are just as virile as they should be."
"If they were, you'd have at least a dozen children and 8 different mothers."
Traine stroked his chin. "Yeah. The population at Bristle would be pretty slim."
"They take birth control, dumb ass. The rest of the population, however, wouldn't be spared. Girls don't get their surgery done until they're 16, and it's expensive. You like them around that age, too, you fucking pedophile."
"Get over it! It was that one 17 year old girl, and she was only 2 months from being 18!"
"That was when you dumped her, stupid fuck. You started dating her when she was 16."
"I was only 18!"
"Pedophile."
"Shut the fuck up and stop standing in the way," a monotonous voice grunted from a few feet away.
"Well, well, well, isn't it Blake the Flake? How are we this morning?" Traine smirked.
"You're slower than a freight train, as usual. You should try to upgrade your engines or something."
"You stupid fuck! You wanna say that during 6th period today? You're still in 3rd, weakling!"
"Having red hair doesn't give you an excuse to be a flaming idiot." Blake swiped at the black hair that fell in his face.
"You're asking for it." Traine pointed a finger. "After I'm done with the fresh meat, I'm gonna kick your ass next."
A sinister smiled started to spread on Blake's face. His left hand reached for his watch. There was the sound of something clicking then the pulling of something thin.
A wire glittered in the morning light coming from the door. "Let's see whose ass is going to get kicked."
"That little string doesn't scare me, you psychotic freak."
Blake started forward, the wire suddenly multiplying and looping infinitely into the air. Traine jumped back and brought up his fists.
The glass doors slid open with a loud 'WHOOSH'. "What the hell are you guys standing around here for?! The first bell has already rung! You're going to be late!"
Blake released the end of the wire in his hand and the whipping sound of it retracting back into his watch disturbed the silence, making it that much more awkward.
An angry Wilkes stood in the open doorway, fists on his hips as he glared at the group of boys. "Get to class!"
"Yessir," was the quick mutter of them all as they filed out of the door.
Wilkes slammed his hands on both Blake and Traine's shoulders. "You both know there's no fighting in the dorm buildings. I'll have you both kicked out if I ever see it again."
There was a grumble from Traine and nothing from Blake.
"Settle these stupid pride battles during 6th period or after school in the gym with a referee." He released their shoulders. "Now get to class, both of you."
"Yessir," Trained blurted out again.
Blake glared at him from under his bangs as they both fled the building. "This is all your fault."
"It's yours, you stupid prick!"
"Frieght train!"
"Flake!"
They both stopped in the middle of the moving sidewalks.
"You say that again," Blake threatened in a low voice.
"Flake! Flake! FLAKE!"
He started to reach for his watch again when they heard the bells coming from the school.
"Oh SHIT! I'm late AGAIN!" Traine sprinted the rest of the way and up the first flight of stairs, Blake on his heels. "Mr. Smith'll have my fuckin' head..."
He tentatively pushed the button and the door slid open. He ducked as Physics books were tossed at his head. Blake had enough sense to stand to the side as the door was opened.
"I told you not to even bother coming into my class if you're going to be late again!"
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I promise! Never again!"
A dark figure loomed behind the pleading Traine. "Same excuses as always."
Traine flew forward and landed face first on the ground. The man put his foot back down as he walked into the class. His glasses glinted as he looked around the room. There was a collective sweatdrop from all.
Trained jumped to his feet. "Icchan! You bastard! You didn't have to kick me!"
The man grabbed Traine by the collar of his shirt. "That's MASTER Icchan to you, punk!"
Blake slipped by the pair and into his seat more or less unnoticed.
"Why are you always disturbing my class, Icchan?" Mr.Smith sighed.
Icchan released Traine's shirt and he collapsed back to the ground. "Ah, that's right." He pointed to Ryan, who had been staring in confusion at them the entire time. "I came for him."
"Alright, go ahead Ryan. Believe it or not, he's a certified physician," Mr.Smith waved him off.
"He's a damn sadistic nurse is what he is..." Traine rubbed his neck.
"Oh!" Icchan smiled. "Mr.Smith, I have the perfect punishment for Traine..."
"Alright, all done."
"We didn't do anything."
"I weighed you, didn't I?"
"What kind of a doctor are you?" Ryan put his shirt and pants back on.
"You only weight 130 pounds. You're a little shrimp. Eat more protein."
Ryan felt like banging his head on the wall.
He shooed him out. "Go back to class."
"Don't I need a pass or something?"
"Nah. Just hope Ms.Fink doesn't catch you."
Ryan felt a long sweatdrop fall down his head. What an incompetent doctor...
He took his time going back to class. When he opened the door, everything seemed normal. At first...
He noticed Mr.Smith behind his desk, moving up and down. His head and shoulders first appearing above the desk, then moving down so you could just see his eyes, and finally back up again.
"What the hell...?"
"Watch your mouth," Mr.Smith interjected into his lecture before going on. "So change of KE is equal to-"
Ryan stared.
"Take your seat, Ryan." Mr. Smith looked down. "You're slowing down, Traine. Keep up the pace or I'll make you start all over."
"W-WHAT?! You can't do that!"
"One. Two." Mr.Smith began to recount.
"Okay, okay! I'll pick up the pace!"
Ryan slowly made his way to his desk, the disembodied voice of Traine haunting him. He looked behind the teachers desk and saw Traine struggling to do push ups with Mr.Smith sitting cross-legged on his back.
His mouth fell open. He knew this was a private school, but still... Could they actually do that?
"Sit down, Ryan," Mr.Smith said again, only louder.
Ryan sat. His eyes kept moving back to Mr.Smith even as his hand attempted to write down notes. It was just too odd a site, and the picture of Traine struggling brought a smile to his face. Stupid bastard deserved it.
"TWO HUNDRED!"
A few people jumped at the exhausted shout that came out of nowhere.
"I'm glad you were keeping an accurate count, because if you'd try to lie, I would have made you start over."
There was an 'Ugh' from beneath the desk.
Mr.Smith rose to his full height and wiped off the back of his pants. "You sweat too much. I'm going to have to change my pants."
"And you weight too damn much!"
Mr. Smith's eyebrow arched.
Traine rose from behind the desk, uniform drenched in sweat. He pulled it away from his body with one hand and pushed his hair back with the other. "Jesus! That damn Icchan! I'll get that fuc-"
Mr.Smith's hand snapped up, making to smack him across the mouth. Traine's head dodged to the side and Mr.Smith's index finger popped up at the last minute, as if he hadn't attempted to hit him.
"Watch your mouth, Traine. I'll make you give me 200 laps next time I hear another indecent word pass those lips of yours."
Traine snorted and collapsed into his seat. Damn! His arms were sore as a bitch, and guaranteed Wilkes wouldn't go easy on him. He smirked. Then again, he was supposed to fight that little pussy Ryan today. He might get off easy after all...
"So M sub 1 H 1/2 plus-"
Ryan found it hard to pay attention to the lesson. First, it had been because of the ludicrously perverted up and down motions of the teacher, and now because of the amazing amount of heat that was coming from his left side. Traine was still sweat profusely, and was doing something akin to panting like a fuckin dog on asphault in the summer. Ryan's lip started to curl involuntarily as his anger rose.
He turned to snap at him and was greeted with a wicked grin and more panting.
"You got a problem, Sharps?" Traine started to lift himself from his chair.
A snarl started in his throat and Ryan started to rise from his seat. "You stupid fu-"
The door slid open and they both stopped. Traine's mouth twisted to a frown. "Icchan."
Icchan adjusted his glasses as he took a step into the room. "Why don't you both sit down," he instructed.
They did as they were told with much grumbling from Traine, who turned away to look out the window. Mr.Smith sighed and closed the physics book. They only had 10 minutes left, and with Icchan coming in and out of his room, there was no way to decently finish his lecture.
"Your homework is-"
"And that's MASTER ICCHAN to you!"
An eraser soared through the air in what Mr.Smith considered quite a beautiful arc, before smacking Traine in the back of the head. Yellow chalk dust came up in a cloud that descended on half the classroom.
Ryan turned his head and buried his face into his sleeve to filter out the dust. It also hid the satisfied smirk that would have been obvious on his face.
"What the hell was that for?! And why do you have chalk erasers when we only use dry-erase marker?!"
Icchan tossed another one up and caught it. "For delinquents like you."
"Why you-!"
"I don't know, yellow looks kinda good on you," Ryan chuckled from behind his sleeve, eyes lighting up. "It compliments your red hair, and looks *great* against the black of your uniform."
"You little fu-!"
Traine's pupils shrank and he released a squeak. Ducking barely in time, a physics book flew over his head to ram violenty onto the wall behind him and land with a loud 'thunk' as it hit the floor.
"WHAT YOUR MOUTH, TRAINE!"
Silence enveloped the room. Mr.Smith walked over to retrieve the book from behind Traine's desk.
Traine uneasily watched on high alert as the teacher set it down on the bookshelf. That hadn't been a normal book either. It was the super thick teacher's edition.
Still bristling, Mr.Smith leveled a glare at Icchan, but he had already fled the scene. "Stupid good for nothing," he seethed. "And you!" The teacher's eyes turned to Blake.
"Don't think I forgot your tardiness! You have just as many offenses as Traine! Next class, you're giving me 200 push-ups as well!" Cracking his knuckles, Mr.Smith's glasses shined malevolently. "Next time either of you are late, I'm going to make you run a marathon with all your limbs bound!"
"How are we supposed to run like that?!"
"YOU FIGURE OUT HOW!"
Traine shrank back. Ryan also shriveled because he was in the general area of the death glare.
The bell rang, and for a long time no one moved. Then, all of a sudden, there was a loud roar as people trampled one another to escape. Somehow, Ryan ended up in his next class and stared blankly at his worksheets in Trig. He knew how to do them, but his mind was just not functioning. Not to mention Traine spent that entire class period throwing paper balls and the like at his head.
He'd snapped on him and was about to break Traine's neck when Ms.Brykes calmly told him to go outside and cool down until the class period was over. He squatted outside the door and stared off into space, letting his anger subside.
He heard the door open behind him some time later and felt the body heat of the person standing in the doorway.
"The bell's about to ring, so come in and pack up your things," Ms.Brykes voice floated down to him.
Ryan let out a breath through his nose and allowed himself to stand. Ms.Brykes moved back towards the front of the classroom and announced the homework as she wrote it on the white, dry-erase board.
Collapsing into his chair, Ryan dropped his books into his case and closed it with a 'clack clack'. Everyone else had moved towards the door and immediately piled out when the bell rang.
The next two classes were once again a nap time for Ryan. He didn't even know what the teacher's names were... Hell. He'd even forgotten the subjects. If Kowrly State hadn't been so far ahead, he would have really fucked himself over.
He had forgotten to bring his lunch, and even though his dorm room was just across the street, it was futile to go. There wasn't any food there either. He had a few dollars, but he wasn't starving yet, so he could wait until his next pay came. He felt his stomach rumble mercilessly at him. God. He WAS starving. He might have to spend his last resort after all...
A bag landed in front of his face, but Ryan didn't have the energy to act as surprised as he was. The bag teetered precariously before falling over and showing him its contents.
His stomach released a vapid growl and he felt his lips tighten to try and control it. He was failing miserably.
"I told you to eat during lunch," a growl came from above.
Ryan looked up. All he could make out was an outline of red from the sun.
"When I kick your ass, I don't want your pussy-whipped ass excuse that you were hungry." Traine turned, leaving the bag behind.
Ryan poked at it, more than a little suspicious, despite his lack of expression. He unwrapped the sandwich and bit into it. Food always tasted best when you were starving. Chewing carefully, he wondered what nasty things Traine could have done to the sandwich and snickered. As long as he didn't put ex-lax in it, he didn't give a shit.
He poked around some more. Cheese curls? He laughed aloud. Who packed this? His mother? He ate them anyway. There was even a little caramel crunch thingy and a drink. Did his mother really make this?
Traine sauntered back over to the table where everyone eyed him. He sat back on the table and watched Ryan for a moment. "Stupid fuck. Who knows what I could have put in there."
"What *did* you put in it?" Blaine asked.
"Nothing!" Traine shouted, shaking a fist. "I wouldn't sink that low for a win!"
There was a collective "Huh?" from the group.
"I'm fighting him this afternoon, dumb asses! I'm not going to hand his ass to him only to get an excuse like 'I'm hungry!' or 'You poisened me, asshole!'!"
There was another collective 'Oh...'
Everyone looked over towards Ryan just as his head thunked on the table.
"You did poison him!!" Craig shouted.
"I DID NOT!" Traine whacked him on the back of the head. "I'll prove it to you!"
He got up and stormed over to where Ryan sat alone. He kicked the bench and Ryan's head popped up.
"W-What?!" His head turned around quickly, fists coming up.
"See! The bastard was just sleeping!!"
Everyone felt a sweatdrop fall down the sides of their heads.
"Jerk," Ryan muttered, letting his head fall back onto the table.
"Jerk huh? Who's the one who fed you?"
"You just didn't wanna feel guilty about beating up on the less fortunate," Ryan grumbled, turning his head away.
Traine laughed. He had a lot of nerve. "We'll see how much mercy I have for you later."
Ryan gave a groan.
Traine clonked back onto the table. "I can't wait until 6th."
"Should be interesting." Thomas picked at his ear.
The bell rang and everyone started to shift.
Ryan yawned, blinked a few times, then let his head hit the table again.
Everyone left, and soon he was the only one there. The eery silence caused him to lift his head. Once his vision focused, his whole body sat up in alarm. Where did everybody go? His head whipped around to find a clock.
Holy SHIT! It was almost 1:15! Lunch was over almost 30 minutes ago! He ran out the door, tripping on a few invisible cracks, and barely avoided being hit by cars as he ran across the street because the crosswalk was too far away.
He stopped, breathless, at the door outside their classroom and let loose a string of curses. Wilkes would have his head for being late on the second day of class.
He contemplated if he should skip entirely but the option was stripped from him when the door slid open and Wilkes stared down at him.
"When did you plan on coming in, Sharps? Tomorrow?" His voice barely contained his rage.
Ryan smiled nervously. He didn't know what to say. Wilkes smacked him hard on the back of the head while at the same time dragging him into the room.
Ryan rubbed his neck and sulkily went over to squat in the corner.
"Poor baby got scolded," a mocking voice floated over to him.
"Shut the fuck up," Ryan growled, glaring from under his bangs.
"Oh! So scary!"
"Thompson! You have something to say that the rest of us would like to hear?!" Wilkes booming voice filled the room.
"No," Traine said with a smile, raising his hands.
"Good. Thorps. Get your ass up here."
Blaine rose to his feet. He blinked and moved his blonde hair out of his eyes. Wilkes waved him forward and he obliged.
"Sharpes, you too."
Ryan drew himself up and came over.
"I want you two to do a medium speed mock spar, okay? It's more like a warm- up, understand? I want you to keep it up for the rest of the period, and it better not turn into a brawl by then either. Remember. Medium speed."
"Yessir," they answered in unison.
"You wanna start?"
"Sure." Ryan wasn't about to let go of the opportunity. He could set his own speed, because they probably both had different ideas of medium.
He punched, then kicked, initially driving Blaine backwards.
He looked surprised at first, and his reactions were a little late, but he soon recovered.
Doing nothing but blocking, Blaine slowly allowed himself to be push backwards. This is what Ryan considered medium? Seemed kind of fast to him. He had no doubts about him being able to last all period, but he was fighting Traine next, so he really should be managing his energy more properly.
He saw an opening and switched to attack mode, keeping up the pace. Wilkes didn't do these kinds of drills often, and it must be because he was still trying to get Ryan mixed in. They kept switching back and forth, sometimes moving a little faster to get the upper hand. It was almost up to normal speed before Ryan suddenly slowed back down, moving his forward in what seemed like slow motion.
Blaine smirked. He was a fool, to be sure, but at least he was a funny one.
Eventually, the serious spar devolved into a slow-motion parody of a fight.
Even though Wilkes had given everyone something to do, they all had stopped to watch it.
Blaine was about to administer a slow kick to Ryan's head when both he and Ryan were smacked repeatedly and landed on the ground.
"I said MEDIUM SPEED! Not a slow motion play!" Wilkes whapped the rolled up paper he'd use to smite them with in the palm of his hand "You're wasting time!"
As soon as everyone had seen Wilkes come in, they'd gone back to what they were doing. There were many chuckles at the two's demise.
Sighing, Wilkes looked at his watch. Class was almost over anyway. "Go to the showers," he said grudgingly.
Everyone funneled out the door.
"Thorps. I expect better out of you next class."
"Yessir," Blaine said with a huff, giving a slight bow before leaving.
"And you, Sharps."
Ryan gulped.
"I'm trying to give you a leg up. I can easily have you transferred to the lower classes so that you'd be among your rank."
"No, I'll behave here. I promise," Ryan pleaded, clasping his hands together.
"I'm sure you will. I'll see you after school."
"Yessir." Ryan ran out the door.
Shit. He hadn't even gone a full week and he was already starting bad habits. Ryan opened the door to his next class. There were a two people there already, Thomas and Craig.
He kept the annoyed look off his face. He'd beaten Thomas before, and he was probably still bitter about it. 'Easy for you to say. You didn't get beat by the newbie who can't even do his katas right.' If he remembered, that's what Thomas had said.
It was true, that he was out of practice, but he was going to work his ass off hard to get back up to speed. There was a *whoosh* as the door opened and the rest of the class entered. Traine scratched his head. This would be an easy fight. He gave Ryan a quick look. For someone who was supposedly so good, he was a major disappointment. He'd been hoping for a rival.
"Alright, settle down!" Instructor Dwight shouted, walking into the room from a side door. "We didn't finish last class, so Traine and Ryan, get over here."
"You should be warmed up from sparring, so get ready."
Ryan took in a deep breath and took a relaxed stance.
Traine eyed him, eyebrows furrowing. "Don't look so lax, midget. I'm taking this seriously. I wanna see how bad you are."
Ryan scowled. "Come and see, Jerk off."
Instructor Dwight raised his hand.
"Match start!"
And start it did.
Then, in less than 10 minutes, it was over.
Ryan didn't remember much of it. A lot of scrambling, growling, and a helluva lot of pain. That's why he'd passed out in the first place.
He woke up in the infirmary of the school, surrounded by white. The bed crinkled under him as he sat up slowly. His head started to pound.
"Shit..." He put a hand gently to his temple. "This isn't funny..."
"So, Sleeping Beauty is awake, hmmm? Got your ass kicked by Traine and handed to you."
"Che. Thanks, you make me feel a lot better."
Icchan took a drag off his cigarette. "You don't seem like the sort who needs coddling."
"I don't, but normal sympathy would be nice."
"Not my fault. You don't talk shit and have nothing to back it up."
Ryan glared. He would save him the 'I'm not in top form' speech, since he'd probably just throw it back in his face.
"You better take care of those bruises. They make prime targets."
Ryan's eyebrow quirked. "What'd you do? Take my shirt off?" He could feel his heart starting to pound.
"No. I just figured you'd have some if you were in a fight and knocked unconscious without head trauma."
"Yeah, anyway." Ryan got to his feet and brushed himself off. Traine had swept the fucking floor with him. There was *that* much of a difference between their strength.
He balled up his fist. Punching his other palm, he let his teeth grind together. Stupid prick...
He pulled on his shoes and stalked towards the door. "Thanks Icchan, I'll-"
"MASTER Icchan," he called.
"MASTER Icchan," Ryan corrected, "I'll owe you one." He punched the button and stormed down the hall. Now he was in a pissy mood.
He picked up his books from the locker room and went up to the gym. Wilkes wasn't there, so he could only guess he was excused from any type of practice. He looked at the clock and realized why. It was 5:30, and there was no way anyone would wait two and a half hours just for a little lesson.
He picked up his case and threw it over his shoulder. It fucking sucked. He walked outside and towards the dorms. He was still aching, and he had to go to work tonight. He went through the sliding glass doors and poked the up button for the elevator. After a few seconds, he punched it. "Stupid..." He kicked it repeatedly until there was a ding.
Satisfied, he grinned smugly at it, but it fell from his face as the doors opened.
"Oh, if it isn't little man?" Traine sneered. "Did I play too rough for you?"
"Fuck you!"
Blake brushed by them all roughly. "Stop picking on the weak."
"What!?" Ryan shouted, about to turn and swipe at him.
"Aw? Did the big boys hurt your feelings, wittle baby?" There was a round of laughter.
The elevator doors started to close. Traine's hand landed with a bang on the edge of the door and they reopened. He pushed past Ryan, still jeering at him.
"Let me know when you grow up, little punk." He pushed Ryan back into the elevator.
Ryan gave a surprised shout and fell backwards. He started a curse as he got back up but the doors closed. He raised his foot and kicked the doors violently. He could still hear their laughter outside.
He slammed his hand down on the 2. It glowed and the elevator started to move. Mother fucker, twisting the fucking knife! He glowered at the door, body shaking in fury.
He would KILL that bastard! He would train and get stronger so that he’d kick his ass, but he had other things to attend to first…
Author's Note : So the cliche hijinks continue, but it could be worse, right? I decided to go the sadly cliche route and name the story after the school until I figure something else out. ::laughs:: One day, I guess, I'll be good at coming up with story names and not just character names. I also need a beta besides myself. ::shrugs:: Maybe not even a beta, just someone to help me cut this story up into smaller chapters. I look, but I don't see many natural chapter breaks in my story...