High & Low Oya High Fanfiction (Temporary Discontinued)

Chapter 2

     As my driver rolls up to the school gates that hang lifelessly on a single hinge, chills race down my spine.  A gust of wind causes them to clang and I reactively flinch.

"This . . . this is a school?" I whisper.

    Paper flutters through the air, littering the courtyard, and students gather in small groups, smoking cigarettes and shouting wildly.  The building itself was seven stories high, peppered with windows--although over half of them were missing their glass--and graffiti stained the once white stone.  A single, dark blue banner hangs across the buildings, the wind whistling through the tattered cloth, and I read in a fearful voice, "Oya High."

"We're here," my driver reveals, parking outside the main entrance.

     Students look over at us sceptically, nudging their friends and cautiously approaching.  I catch one of them disappearing up a set of stairs, no doubt to alert someone of my arrival.

"Where are the teachers?" I squeak.

     My driver licks her lips, keeping a wary eye on the students.  "You best get out," she instructs, "I don't want any trouble."

"You can't leave me here."

"It is Mr Tanaka's orders, Yuki.  You will be quite safe."

     One look at my driver's face told me everything I needed to know.

"Liar," I breathe, grabbing my backpack and climbing out.  My fingers linger over the door handle, wanting nothing more than to open it and jump back inside as the students close in.  However, the car zooms away leaving the acid scent of exhaust fumes in the back of my throat.

"What's your name?" a kid asks, grinning goofily to his friends as throws his arm over my shoulder.

     I close my eyes, taking a calming breath.  My heart hammers against my chest and tears sting my eyes, but I blink them away, wondering once again why my uncle sent me here.  "Yuki, Yuki Tanaka . . . I'm new here."

     Just when I thought things might go a step further, a group of guys saunter down, fanning out into a semi-circle.  One guy, in particular, stands out.  He looked old enough to graduate with caramel skin, crazed eyes, and a mop of black hair held back by a dark bandana.  He had a strange aura about him . . . the way he moved just commanded attention.

"Kane, remember your rank," he says, cocking his head to the side, "You don't welcome newcomers."

"She's a classer!" defends Kane, giving me a hard shake.  I welp falling against his chest as my face burns a bright red.

     The raven-haired male lets loose an uncontrollable cackle and begins to clap his hands frantically as he strides up to Kane.

"Yeah?" he asked, an alarming gleam in his dark eyes, "You want me to repeat myself?" he suddenly asks, leaning in until his face was mere inches from Kane's.

"N-no," mutters Kane, releasing me and slipping back into the crowd.

     The bandana guy motions to me, jutting his chin out, "Come on."

     I sling my bag over my shoulder, smoothing out my t-shirt before following him into the school.  Confused at the whole situation, but unsure what else to do.  The guy takes me to the seventh floor and into a trashed, but otherwise empty classroom.  He lets his two friends in, but instructs the rest of the students to 'get lost'.

     Maybe I shouldn't have followed him here, I think suddenly.  The classroom door thuds shut, a tall lanky male leaning against it while scrutinizing me.  I bite my lip to stem my nerves and peak through my hair at the guy with a bandana.

"Who are you?" I decide to finally ask, breaking the stifling silence.

"Murayama," mumbles the male, dragging a chair across the floor before reversing it and sitting down.  He points a finger at his friends and says in turn, "Furuya.  Seki."

     I nod politely.  "Yuki, Yuki Tanaka."

     Murayama's eyebrows arch unexpectedly.  "Tanaka?" he repeats.

"Yeah?"

     The man simply hums a response.  His gaze flickers to Seki as the big male stands by the window staring at the courtyard below.

"Why-" my voice breaks and I clear my throat, "Why is that important?"

     Murayama snaps his head to the side, his dark gaze focusing intently on my small frame.  "What's someone like you doing in a place like this?"

     Words appear to die in my throat and my mouth is suddenly as dry and gritty as sandpaper.  My mind propounds me with questions leaving me at a loss what to say.  Who is this guy?  Why would he want to know?  Can I trust him?

"I um . . ." I quickly glance over the room and for some reason, the carnage stood out and I got an idea, "No other school would take me."

     I did not know it was possible, but Murayama's eyebrows rise even higher a full-blown laugh escaping his lungs and echoing around the classroom.

"You?" he asked whilst catching his breath.

     I stamp my foot, digging my heel into the dusty floor as proof and clarify, "Yes!"

     The man's dark eyes glimmer humorously a grin spread wide across his angular features.  "You're a bad girl?" he asks teasingly.

     My hand reaches up to rub the back of my neck, my gaze dropping to my pristine uniform and gleaming shoes.  "Yeah," I mutter, "I'm tough."

     Murayama chortles and I fix him with a pointed look.

"What do you want with me anyway?"

     The man jumps up from his seat and as quick as lightning throws it into the corner.  "You really don't know anything."

"Then explain it to me, please."

"I'm curious about you, Yuki Tanaka," reveals Murayama, "Come around the top floor.  Furuya will get you . . . situated."

"That's not an explanation."  I cross my arms, planting my feet firmly.

     Murayama runs a hand through his hair, shaking a few knots out of the dark locks.  "Furuya will explain it," he says after a long pause.

"Thanks, boss," comes the unamused response as Furuya pulls open the door and allows Murayama into the hall, "Always a pleasure."