Ugly Duckling

12 | THERE'S A PRICE TICKET ON ME

Rivers of smoke.

Streaks of it, thick and thin, streamed afloat in the sullen air, where the smell of cigarettes and blood wafted without a care.

A young man's lips parted, and plumes if smoke blew out with the grace of a dragon.

The young man threw the cigarette on the soiled ground, and snuffed it out with the sole of his shoe. The ashes once burned a pretty flame in the dark, now they lay battered on the back of a random, bloody punk.

His body lay unmoving on the ground, his pummeled state oozed crimson pools of blood; a recklessness unbound. His back was a cemetery, for both the ashes and his dignity.

Beside his torn body lay another, and another, and many others, akin to the backs of crocodiles in a river. Under the faint lamplight, even cockroaches could shine much bright.

The young man stood amidst the lump of bodies, young and old, as if he was only waiting for Hades to pick them up and throw away their souls. But who could ever care about a pile of corpses stuffed in an alley? So he merely strode off and home he was heading.

He wiped his nose, a stain of blood now plastered on his jacket's sleeve; jet black leather rivaling the darkness of the gloomy weather.

He brought a hand to thread through the rebelliously disorganized locks of his hair, and he entered the streets once more, where people walked in a highway of blinding colors and endless noises. They mindlessly marched forward and backward, each to their own destination, while the young man cut through their bodies, going right against the tide.

Nobody dared exist near his presence.

They could swear his dark eyes shone a monstrous red gaze if he glared at any of them.

Why ever approach a punk like that?

His well-shaped lips curved to a frown as Kazuki muttered:

"F***ing bastards..."

The rest of the day went as silent as a ghost's steps.

The smell of milk and food remains haunted Sachie's silhouette for the remainder of her classes. Nobody dared pass beside her, taking no risk of having her sweaty, stinky existence beside them. The foul smell only wore off when she took a shower in the warm confines of her home.

Sachie couldn't answer any of the questions her family bombarded her. She simply changed into her pajamas and plopped herself on the soft mattress of her bed with a floof, and off to sleep she was.

Her parents didn't know what to do. They were confused. They never saw their daughter come back like this-she was always cheerful with an energy that could light up the whole neighborhood. So this time was just... strange.

"Did she get herself in trouble?"

"Maybe she's just tired and wanted to take a shower."

"No. She seems way too tired. No way is it PE class."

So many questions, and so little answers.

They couldn't really ask about it the next day either. Even little Kei and Kanna felt the strained tension within their boisterous elder sister as she sluggishly ate her breakfast. Heck, she didn't really eat. She just took a few bites and went off, her head down, glasses slipping off every five seconds.

She kept staring at whatever ground she walked on. Her shoes stayed in place while their background changed: waltzing out from the carpet of her home to the concrete of the stairs, to climbing onto the clean floor of the train, and the soiled asphalt of the streets after as she strode off to school.