High & Low Oya High Fanfiction (Temporary Discontinued)

Chapter 3

     A few hours later, Furuya finishes giving me a rough tour of the floors and we head back up to the seventh floor.  As we climb, my feet scuff against the metal stairs, and I hold the rail somewhat tightly for support.  A few other students linger in the stairwell, and the acrid smell of smoke stings my nostrils as they puff on their cigarettes a few floors below.

"So what work do you do here?" I ask, peering down the railing at the kids below and taking a quick breather.  Furuya pauses just up ahead, nonchalant as always.

"What time do classes start?" I persist.

     Furuya slicks back his hair, appearing disinterested, and continues up the stairs.  "You're in the wrong side of Oya High if you want lessons--only full-time students do that."

"Then how do you graduate?"  I scrunch up my eyebrows and follow the male, ignoring the potent burning in my thighs, "How do I get to go home?"

"No one's ever graduated, they just leave."  Furuya narrows his eyes, fixing me with a sharp look.  "No one has a home they want to go back to.  That's why they're here."

     I fall silent.  So this was why my uncle sent me here.  This was his grand plan.  My small hands ball into fists, my feet hitting the ground a little more forcefully as I march in silence.  It won't work, I promise, I won't let it.

"I'm sorry," I say suddenly once we reach the top floor.

     Furuya's face contorts in confusion.  "Huh?"

"I'm sorry you don't have a home to return to."

"I-" Furuya stutters for some sort of response but ends up pulling the door open and extending his hand.  "After you."

     I flash him a soft smile and slip through.  Inside Murayama stands in front of a room full of excited students.  I stay at the back while Furuya takes his place at the front.

"Who's ready for some fun?!" screams Murayama.

     The students erupt in agreement and I flinch visibly as the vibrations race through the ground beneath my feet.  A thunderous crash echoes outside and a few students poke their heads out the window.

"They're here!" exclaims a student.

"Forty or fifty of them," reveals another, looking to Murayama for guidance.

     Furuya frowns, leaning over to whisper in Murayama's ear.  The other male nods accordingly, shaking him off and easing himself to his feet.  A silence falls over the room, the students standing stiffly as Murayama walks through them.

     He stops at the door and without turning around, he raises one arm waving everyone forward, and says mischievously, "Let's get 'em!"

     Like a spark to a flame, the students burst into roars and push for the exit.  Shoulders smack into me, drawing me into the horde or risk getting run over.  The group thumps down the hallways at high speeds, heading inevitably down to whatever or whoever is waiting in the courtyard.

     My chest contracts, my breathing coming in rapid pants, and the blood rushes from my features.  I lick my lips nervously and struggle to get to the outside of the group.  However, sunlight spills onto my face, basking its last rays of warmth as it dips lower in the sky and the cool bite of the spring wind brushes through my hair.  The students freeze.

     Finally, I manage to squeeze my way to the edge of the crowd, where I also freeze.  Another group swarms, like a seething mass, at the main gate.  Three of them face off against Murayama, Furuya, and Seki.  Both sides shuffle eagerly, their frames tense with the promise of an upcoming fight as their leaders converse in hushed tones.

"What are you doing here?" a masculine voice asks from behind.

     I tilt my head, spinning around to find Kane glaring at me disapprovingly.  Unsure what to say, I decide to ignore him and turn back around.

"They'll wipe the floor with you, classer," Kane whispers, closer than before, his voice sending chills racing across my skin.

     I grind my teeth, stepping away from the man.  He was right, I could not fight.  I bite my lip trying to stem my nerves.

"I'm getting out of here," I say, spinning on my heel but before I can move a firm hand grasps my arm.

"You're not goin' anywhere," spits Kane, "Oya High will lose face if you walk away now."

"Well, I'm not staying!" I fume, tugging against his grip.

     Kane's eyes avert their attention and he nods in the direction of the opposing group.  "Look," he grunts, "It's too late for you to go anywhere."

     I follow his gaze, my heart skipping a beat as the opposing horde pours into the school grounds like a tsunami, wiping out anything in its path.  Kane removes his hand, but he no longer needs it as my feet root me in place.

"I'm gonna die," I whine.

     Kane lets loose a deep chuckle.  "Good riddance," he says with a smirk, striding forward with the rest of Oya High to meet the charge.  Once again, I get taken up with the crowd and forced directly towards the opposing team.

     Murayama's distinct voice rings out above the racket as he yells and then the two groups collide and a full-blown fight breaks out.  I watch helplessly as a guy, his face contorted with rage, crashes through our line of defence.  His maniac gaze locks onto mine and his direction shifts to advance in my direction.  Two of his buddies help him clear the way.

     My chest tightens, my heart rate racing, and I pivot on my heel and claw through the crowd, desperate to get away from the fight.  Screams echo around me, piercing my ears, and the loud smack of bodies hitting the pavement fills my mind with dread spurring me to greater speeds.

     Footsteps pound behind me and I risk a glance back to see the wild-crazed man closing in.  I swing around just on time to slam into the wide arc of a student's fist.  I welp, flying off my feet and hitting the ground with a loud thud.  I cradle my numb jaw, cringing at the warm line trickling down my chin and plopping onto my palm.

     The crazed man is suddenly standing over me, his wild blonde hair whipping about in the wind, and the bright sheen of sweat beading on his forehead.  His thin lips pull back into a triumphant grin and he raises his fist.

     Helpless, I close my eyes, turn my head away, and prepare for the blow, but when it never lands I finally risk a peek.  Seki's huge frame towers in front of my vision, and the crazed guy hangs suspended above Seki's bald head, his eyes wide with fear as the large man grunts and tosses him unceremoniously high into the sky.

"Stay down," grunts Seki, punching another opponent into the dirt.  He grabs the unconscious victim and tosses him so he lands over my midriff.

     I groan under the sudden weight, pushing against the unmoving body in an effort to breathe.

"Don't move!" Seki growls, kicking my hands away before marching off into the crowd.