High & Low Oya High Fanfiction (Temporary Discontinued)

Chapter 6

(Fitting Music:  Aidan Martin - Hurting You)

"What's with you and Hoodlum Squad?" Murayama asks suddenly, an unreadable expression on his face.

"What do mean?"

     I watch quizzically as the male keeps his head hung low, eyeing his shoes as he hops off the sidewalk and begins to cross the road.

"You're close with 'em," rephrases Murayama in mumbled tones, "Doesn't matter."

"No, it's okay."  I break into a light jog to catch up.

     Although it was still afternoon, the sun dips in the sky.  The tall buildings block out its rays as the streets grow dark.

"We all went to the same school that was before... before I lost my parents."  My voice trails off and I pull a tight smile to lighten the mood, but my effort goes unrewarded as Murayama fails to react.

     A cold wind suddenly whistles down the street.  It catches my thin jacket, causing it to flap loudly and slap against my side.  I shiver, pulling it back into place and fold my arms to hold it there as goosebumps spike across my skin.

"What did Cobra say to you?" I ask curiously, "Do you believe I'm not with Mr. Tanaka now?"

     The man lifts his shoulder in a shrug.  "Yeah...?" he says, but it sounds more like a question.

"Lovely," I mumble unenthusiastically, wondering again if staying with Oya High was the right choice.

     We make the rest of the trip back to the school in silence, allowing my mind to wander.  I had a method for dealing with the loss of my parents, and that was avoidance, however, the recent turn of events was stirring everything to the forefront of my mind and it was getting harder to avoid.  Thick clouds gather overhead and soon the gentle pitter-patter of rain falls against my large hood.  Its steady, depressing drum does little to help the direction of my thoughts.

     I watch Murayama wordlessly.  His dark hair sticks to his face and his bandana slides a little further down his head due to the extra weight.  With his hands jammed deep into his pockets, he saunters down the sidewalk--also lost in thought.

"I made things complicated," I raise my voice over the roar of an engine as a car races past, "Didn't I?"

"Not really," Murayama says finally, "Fighting is my life, all of our lives.  It is just a different face at the end of my fist.  The Tanaka's were always going to fight us, only a matter of time."

"Don't you worry that you could lose?"

"No," Murayama's signature smirk returns to his face as he half looks back at me, "I can take a punch."

     I press my lips together, not expressing the same confidence.  "Thank you, though," I whisper, averting my gaze, "Really."

     The man pauses, walking back and throwing his arm over my shoulder.

"Enough of that," comes his stoic reply, "You've got to toughen up."

     I fail to respond, allowing Murayama to lead the way to the thick, barred gates of Oya High.  However, a flurry of emotions erupt in the pit of my stomach and I cannot help the small smile that worms its way onto my face.

     Once we reach the main entrance, Murayama releases his hold on my shoulder and pushes a side gate open.  The metal squeals, announcing our arrival and Seki and Furuya appear at the base of the school.  Staying under the shelter of the cement overhang they wave us over.

"You look like a rat," surmises Seki, a wide grin splayed across his wide face.

"Shut up," responds Murayama, playfully punching him in response.

     Furuya scrunches his nose in disdain, stepping to the side to avoid getting splashed as the male marches past.  "You need to dry off," he observes, "You'll both catch colds."

     After climbing the stairs and making it to the seventh floor, Furuya grabs two towels he had sitting on a chair.

"Here." He offers, and I gratefully accept, swinging it around my frame and snuggling into its warmth.  The lanky male proceeds to toss the remaining towel at Murayama, smacking into the back of the head and knocking his bandana off.

"Ya!" yells Murayama, spinning around to fire his friend a glare before bending down and snatching up his bandana.

     Furuya feigns ignorance.  "So," he begins, "Is Yuki one of us now?"

     The raven-haired male wrings out the water from his bandana before placing it back on his head.  "Yeah," he replies, reluctantly throwing his towel over his shoulder and walking over to the window.

"I always wanted a pet," pipes in Seki.

     I shoot him a wide-eyed stare, but he just grins, completely oblivious to what was wrong with that statement.

"Don't worry about Seki," laughs Furuya, whacking the back of his bald friend's head, "He's always like this."

"Oh..." I mumble, not sure how to react.

"Where is everyone?" Murayama suddenly interrupts.

     Furrowing his brow, Furuya leaves Seki and moves to the window.  "I sent most of them home, some are in the dorms," he reveals.

"Get them."

"Why?"

"We're being watched."