High & Low Oya High Fanfiction (Temporary Discontinued)

Chapter 1

     My pale fingers tighten around my coat, running the zip up and down as I bite my lip nervously.  I stare at a figure, hunched over at the side of the road.  The man's clothes are worn thin and barely hang onto his bony frame.  He blows into his hands and rubs them together.

     I take my phone out of my pocket and quickly shove it into my jeans before sliding the coat off my shoulders and striding over to the man.

"Hello, I'm Yuki," I begin with a soft smile, "I couldn't help but notice that you don't have a coat."

     The man turns around, his dark eyes shining brightly compared to his dirtied face.  He does not say anything, his gaze simply locking with mine.

     I clear my throat; my attention flickers to a sleek black car parked further down the street.  "You look cold," I persist, glancing down at my coat before offering it to the man, "I have spares.  You can take mine."

     The man snatches my coat out of my grasp, and I struggle not to flinch as his mud-infested nails graze my skin.  Immediately the beggar retreats, dragging his new possession over his shoulders, and huddling against the wall.

"You're . . . you're welcome," I stammer, not sure what else to do.

     I nod when no response is forthcoming.  Wringing my hands together, I pivot on my heel and dash down the street.  My driver, a tall, lithe woman steps out of the black sedan.  Her nose twitches in disdain at my sudden lack of attire, but she opens the car door regardless, allowing me into the back seat.

"Mr Tanaka will not be pleased," snipes the woman as she eases the car into gear and gracefully glides out onto the street.

     I do not dignify her words with a comment, leaving the engine's rumbling to fill the silence.  Street lights flash by my window, painting weird distortions of the buildings as it refracts off the water droplets running down the screen.

     Soon a white mansion comes into view, lit by bright spotlights and guarded by a thick stone wall.  We roll up to the metal gates and my driver reels her window down, giving her ID to security.

"Welcome home Miss Yuki," says the security man, waving for the gates to open, "Mr Tanaka is in the main room."

     I dip my head in an appreciative nod before my driver pulls into the compound.  The gates clang shut behind us.  Dark figures march periodically around the perimeter, holsters displayed clearly on their belts, and I avert my gaze as the car halts outside the main entrance.

"They can't see you," my driver points out, "The windows are tinted."

     I curl my lips into a smile, taking a deep breath to steel my nerves.  "It doesn't appear that way," I muse, "It looks like they can see into my soul."

     My driver shrugs nonchalantly, jumping out of the car and walking around to open my door.  "I don't mind them."

"I know," I retort, climbing out.  The heat of the car is suddenly whisked away by a sudden gust of wind, and I gasp at the freezing cold.

     My driver simply smirks knowingly.  "Perhaps, next time, don't 'lose' your coat in the middle of winter."

    I shoot the woman a sharp glare.

"I'll see you bright and early tomorrow," she states.

     I pause, cocking my head to the side.  I had no appointments tomorrow.

"What's tomorrow?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.

     My driver shuffles somewhat uncomfortably, grumbling, "He didn't tell you?"

"No, I suppose 'he' didn't," I retort, a flush of anger racing through my system.  I swing around making for the front doors.  A wave of heat washes over my skin as I push the doors open, the warm orange light spilling out onto the front balcony, but I stop long enough to turn and finish, "I'll see you tomorrow.  Thank you."

    I pace through the house, my heels clicking loudly against the tiled floor.  Muffled voices echo from a set of dark oak doors, and my fingers dance gingerly over the gold-inlaid handle before shoving it open and stepping inside.

"Yuki!" Mr Tanaka exclaims, his eyes flickering from me to the guest seated opposite him on a lavish sofa.  "Forgive the intrusion, Banko," he says evenly, "This is my niece, Yuki."

"Nice to meet you, Yuki."

"And you, Mr Banko," I reply easily before switching my attention to my uncle.  "Can I talk with you . . . in private?"

     Mr Tanaka's lips twitch in anger, but he hides it well.  Calmly rising to his feet, he extends his hand to Banko.  "I am sorry, Banko, perhaps we can iron out the details another time.  It appears as if there may be some . . . family emergency."

"Of course, Mr Tanaka," bubbles Banko, leaping to his feet, "Another time!"

     The male darts from the room, his footsteps disappearing down the hall, closely followed by the slam of the front door.

     Mr Tanaka wheels around, his thick brows furrowed, and his mouth pressed so tightly it resembled a line.  "What is the meaning of this?!" he demands, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and pouring himself a shot.

     I lick my lips nervously, eyeing the male as his hands shake from restraint.  How much longer have I got, I wonder absently before quickly burying that trail of thinking.

"I- um..." I begin, "My driver said she would pick me up early tomorrow...  Did you arrange something for me?"

"Yes."

     I wait for him to elaborate, but my uncle downs his shot and pours another.

"What- . . . what did you arrange?"

"A new school," explains Mr Tanaka, "It'll keep you out of my hair."

     I eye the man carefully, judging his current mood before continuing, "Where am I going?"

"Oya High."