A Midori no Hibi Fanfic

(Disclaimer: I own nothing from Midori no Hibi, though if I had a choice I'd totally dress Kouta up everyday.)

Chapter Fourteen: Shining Moments

The cold sweat was back full force, with trembling. "I-I d-don't know," Yoshizaka stammered, "N-no idea what you're t-talking about..."

Miyahara had a feeling the guy needed a taste of pain to get him scared enough to talk. The thing was, Miyahara wasn't really that strong - actually, most of Sawamura's enemies found him ridiculously easy to grab hold of and knock out of commission. Even with some training, he was still just simple fodder for most of the gang leaders out there. Right now, most of what he was doing was just a major bluff. Was he really capable of pulling off a physical threat that would coerce an answer?

Then again, this was an Ogurabashi kid, someone who had most likely grown up in places out of the sandpit and the alleyways and had never thrown a punch in his life... it was worth a shot.

Letting go of the guy roughly, Miyahara jammed a short but power packed punch into Yoshizaka's jaw. Yoshizaka reeled, his eyes bulging as he held a shaky hand to his mouth, incoherent gasps escaping his rapidly swelling lips. Not giving him much time to recover, Miyahara shoved him against the wall again, his face close to Yoshizaka's.

"Spill it," He spat, "Or I'll beat you 'till you're unrecognisable."

God, he hoped it wouldn't go there. He had never thrown a punch like that and had it connect so fully in his life; his fist was already beginning to numb from the impact, no doubt ready to start pulsing with pain sooner or later. However, apparently, whatever Sawamura's enemies had on Yoshizaka had been sufficient enough to control him, because they clearly hadn't laid a hand on him. Yoshizaka was clearly stunned by the blow, Miyahara stared at the tears forming at the corners of Yoshizaka's green eyes.

"Sh-she's with Kiriyama. I d-don't know where--"

"Your friends say you do know," Miyahara interrupted, "So just say it, you asshole."

Yoshizaka paled further, now trembling very badly, but he whispered, "O-okay, I'll t-talk. K-Kasugano-san had to be t-taken somewhere n-no-one would look. I t-told them to t-take her into th-the old storage room, the room they used to store spare ch-chairs."

"Where is that storage room?!" Miyahara demanded, shaking Yoshizaka.

"D-don't shake me! It's in th-the Southern building, top floor," He whimpered, "I-it's locked, though. Kiriyama has the k-key."

"How else can you open it?"

"Th-there's no way--"

"There has to be a way! Is it opened by key card or something? Can it be opened with your card?"

Yoshizaka moaned, "N-no, I picked that room for them because you c-can't. It's opened with a g-good old-fashioned key. It's an old r-room, the school will be replacing it soon... I swear I'm t-telling the truth."

Miyahara stared hard at Yoshizaka, but as Yoshizaka quivered, tears dripping from his eyes, Miyahara knew this guy wasn't lying. It seemed so strange - what on earth could they have on this guy? He was pretty pathetic, but he seemed the type to stick to the rules.

"You do realise what's going on, right?" Miyahara said quietly, "You know what's going to happen to that girl. Why aren't you stopping it?"

"I-I c-can't!" Yoshizaka looked stricken, his eyes wide and fearful, "You d-don't understand. My entire future... I h-have to listen to them, or else..."

"What about the girl's future?!" Miyahara said furiously, glaring at Yoshizaka, "Could you live with yourself knowing you ruined her life?!"

"I-I'm not responsible for that girl!" Yoshizaka said, his brow furrowed, "I'm a victim, too. We're b-both victims!"

Forget about this guy possibly being of a decent sort. Disgusted, Miyahara let go of Yoshizaka and stepped back, tempted to wipe his hands, and quite convinced this guy wasn't worth punching again. He turned around, knowing he was running out of time, and pulled his phone out of his pocket just as a sudden squeak of shoes sounded behind him.

Before he could turn back, Yoshizaka had his arm around Miyahara's throat. His cellphone went clattering to the ground, and Yoshizaka's arm squeezed around his neck tightly. Shocked, Miyahara choked, grabbing at the arm with his hands, but Yoshizaka's arm was steadfast and unmoving with surprising strength. He gasped for air uselessly, his fingers weakening in its attempt to push Yoshizaka away, and he could hear Yoshizaka breathing quickly in his ear--

His head was beginning to spin, the ceiling sliding in and out of focus... Was this it? Was this all he could do? Once he passed out, Miyahara had no idea how long he'd stay out. But this guy knew where Sawamura's girlfriend was. They were counting on him to find out where it was. But he'd let his guard down, stupidly, for one measly second and that was going to cost everyone enormously.

'I'm sorry, senpai,' Miyahara thought weakly, as his vision began to blur, 'I'm sorry for letting you down...'

What was the worst about this was that Sawamura had never let Miyahara down. He had never disappointed him, ever.

And Sawamura wasn't just his role-model... he was his friend. Miyahara had been with Sawamura for a long time, even before Sakuradamon, since the day Sawamura had saved him from a load of thugs in the back alley. He knew that behind his vicious fighting exterior, Sawamura was just a lonely guy like most of them, what with his parents gone abroad and his crazy sister. He had learnt the hard way how to cope. From his twenty or so failed confessions, Miyahara knew how desperately starved Sawamura had been for someone to be with. And now, finally, he had found her.

Miyahara knew that Sawamura would go great lengths to protect him. And Miyahara would do anything he could for a friend like him, especially when it came to protecting the one thing that Sawamura truly deserved.

With that in mind, Miyahara grit his teeth and threw his weight against his attacker. It was a clumsy, oxygen-deprived movement, but Yoshizaka let out a grunt of pain as he hit the wall. Though he didn't let go of Miyahara, his grip loosened temporarily.

Sucking in air thankfully, Miyahara tried to elbow whatever he could of Yoshizaka, but that only made Yoshizaka swear and tighten his hold around Miyahara's throat.

"You think-- I can let you go-- after her?" Yoshizaka muttered out with difficulty, because Miyahara was struggling so much, "Kiriyama'll-- tell everyone. I'll lose-- everything. Won't-- let-- that-- happen--"

It was actually kind of impressive - Yoshizaka had seemed pathetically weak, and elbowing him in the gut proved he had no real muscle there to back what felt like an iron grip. Was it Yoshizaka's pure determination that was pinning Miyahara down like this? Losing oxygen rapidly again, Miyahara was growing desperate. In one last ditch attempt at an attack, Miyahara bashed the back his head as hard as he could into Yoshizaka's forehead.

That did the trick; letting out a sharp noise of pain, Yoshizaka let go of Miyahara to clutch at his face, and Miyahara stumbled forward, gulping air frantically.

Though the back of his head throbbed and his fist was still aching, Miyahara faced the staggering Yoshizaka, and slugged the guy for all he was worth in the stomach. Yoshizaka's long dark hair was all over his face as he let out a drawn-out, silent cry before crumpling on the floor.

"You cheap bastard," Miyahara panted, rubbing the back of his head and wincing, "Fight back the first time round!"

There was no response, but Miyahara didn't really care for one. He picked up his cellphone from the ground, and was relieved to find it undamaged. As he waited for Sawamura to pick up, he glanced at Yoshizaka's fallen form, and finally let a proud grin spread across his face. He couldn't wait to tell Lucy about this one.

Another series of jabs, of increasingly sloppy kicks and bashing skulls with their own weapons... Was there no end to them?

Seiji hated to admit it, but his knuckles were growing numb; everytime he flexed his fingers a sharp twitch of pain shot through his hands, and his waist was already aching from all the punches he'd been throwing. As he staggered back, blinking blood out of his eyes from a trickle down his hairline, he barely ducked a dangerous swipe at his neck with a baseball bat. Wincing slightly as it crashed against the wall behind his head, Seiji kicked his attacker into another.

Wiping at his brow, Seiji took a few steps forward, over his fallen opponents, trying his best not to breathe too heavily and betray his exhaustion. To his irritation and fury, someone (dazedly) tried to throw a punch at him, but he dodged it and threw a punch himself. He felt no satisfaction in feeling it connect, however, nor in watching the person collapse onto the ground, finally unconscious.

All he could think about was Midori, fighting for herself and getting hurt just because some stupid old school mate of his wouldn't leave him alone, and here he was, forced to waste his time with flunkies, lame underlings that would get him nowhere.

"Just let me go, damn it!" He seethed, glaring at previously fallen Hanzoumon students pick themselves up with an unsteady wobble, "Do you really want me to beat the crap out of you so much?!"

"Sawamura-san!"

Seiji whipped around, and blinked in surprise. "Miyahara?"

"I've been trying to reach you," Miyahara called out as he stumbled over unconscious forms at the end of the corridor, "Is your phone broken?"

"What?" Seiji frowned slightly, fumbling in his pocket with one hand and, with the other, headlocking a Hanzoumon student who had just attempted to tackle him, "Oh, crap, what did I miss? Did you find Midori?!"

"Through your tip, I found out she's on top floor of the Southern Building," Miyahara explained, ducking as Seiji bodily lifted his attacker and hurled him over, "You weren't picking up though, so Shingyouji told me where you might be--"

"Damn it!!" Seiji muttered, looking at his cellphone to find tens of missed calls on the screen, "These morons are going to pay hell if--"

He sucked in his next few words, startled, when Miyahara's fist went flying over his shoulder; a grunt of pain sounded behind his ear before the would-be attacker collapsed.

"I'll take care of these losers," Miyahara said confidently, jabbing his thumb towards the weakened and unsteady punks strewn all over the floor, "Go, Sawamura-san!"

Seiji wouldn't have agreed to leaving his underclassman at the mercy of so many opponents if he hadn't been so urgent in his desire to find Midori as soon as possible, and if he didn't know that he'd broken most of the attacker's bones at this point.

"I'll leave it to you," He said quickly, giving Miyahara a short clap on the shoulder, "Thanks, Miyahara."

He thought Miyahara's stunned look and wide, bright eyes were a little strange for his brief remark, but he wasted no time in pondering that. Seiji spun on his heel and ran forward, with only one person now on his mind.

When the acidic, bitter taste of cigarettes in Kiriyama's mouth finally registered on Midori, she let out a muffled scream, and tried to twist away, but his hands were holding her down tightly. This was the opposite to how Seiji had felt like; she would never, ever call this a kiss, she had never felt anything so repulsive. When she realised she couldn't wrest herself away from his grasp, she bit him hard.

He jerked back, cursing, and she scrambled away from him, wanting nothing more than to wash her mouth out. Instead, she spat out what she could, gagging slightly.

Kiriyama wiped his lip with the back of his hand, glowering at her, but Midori only looked back with venom.

"This'll be as painful as you make it," He said in a low voice, barely audible, "You can't stop it, though."

She didn't answer, and he stood up slowly. Spitting out a gob of blood himself, Kiriyama turned on his heel and leaned against the door again.

"When they're back with the equipment, setting it up isn't gonna take long." Kiriyama laughed mirthlessly again. "After that, you'll have to try and make the best of it, princess."

Midori could no longer stop them from coming; the tears burned her eyes before they fell, thick and fast, dotting on the dusty floor as she bit back her sobs. Closing her eyes, she curled up into herself, hiding her face from Kiriyama so he would not have the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She knew her shaking shoulders probably told him well enough what she was doing, though.

"...What's taking so long?" Kiriyama muttered, and he proceeded to walk over to the window, holding his cellphone to his ear.

As he stood by the window, Midori stood up shakily, wiping at her eyes roughly. She hurried to the door, fumbling as she fitted her fingertips into the handle slot, and tried to slide it open. It did not move an inch. She wrestled with the handle hard, pulling quite violently at it, but all she managed to do was cause a loud racket with the door jostling in its frame. So confident that she could not open it, Kiriyama had not even bothered turning around from his phonecall, and Midori pulled all the more at the door. Finally, only when one of her hands slipped out from a cracked and bleeding nail, she stopped her futile tries.

Sliding her palms against the door as she fell to her knees, Midori unwillingly felt her eyes fill again. The foul taste of Kiriyama's mouth still lingered, poisonously, on her tongue, and she resisted the urge to hurl. Kiriyama's words, that she could never truly understand Seiji, stabbed at her, though she tried to ignore it, and incredible fear was starting to paralyse her at what was going to happen if she didn't manage to get away somehow. To make it all worse, an unhelpful but painful, constant reel of 'you are so stupid' was repeatedly playing away in her head.

'Seiji-kun,' She thought desperately, 'Why are things happening like this...?'

"How are we going to open that door?" Iwasaki asked urgently as she and Kouta tore up the stairs flight by flight, "If Miyahara-san is talking about the room we're thinking of, then there's no way in, right? Who would have the keys?"

"The general office might have had them, but I'm pretty sure the Yoshizaka too them out," Kouta puffed, his eyes darting down every hallway they passed by in case a lookout caught sight of them, "But right now, I'm sure only the people who orchestrated this whole 'plan' have the keys."

Iwasaki let out a small groan, pausing slightly to catch her breath; they were finally on the top floor landing. "I still can't believe that Yoshizaka-kun is involved in this. Did you say he actually condoned this plan, too?!"

"They were blackmailing him, though I don't know with what," Kouta admitted, "But I still believe that doesn't give him the right to let something like that happen."

"Me too," Iwasaki replied, looking at Kouta with her fierce gaze again as they rounded a corner, "How could--?"

"Iwasaki-san!!"

That was all he managed to say before he grabbed hold of her and pulled her down clumsily. She gasped in his ear as they hit the floor, a huge clang echoing down the stairwell behind them. Kouta quickly rolled over her, fumbling to get to his feet as a gigantic Shin Sakura student with something long and metal in his hands towered over them. The Shin Sakura punk looked slightly stunned himself by the impact of his blow against the wall, but with the clang still ringing in their ears, he swung his muscly arms back once more, his puny eyes now fixated on Kouta.

Kouta barely ducked the second swing; it came whistling so close to his head he felt several hairs part from his scalp with a heated sting. Pivoting his weight from his heels, Kouta shoved his shoulder into their attacker's midriff. As the Shin Sakura student let out a choked noise of surprise, Kouta took the opportunity to tighten his fist the way he'd been taught, and give the guy a good one right in the gut.

Before he could see how much effect it had, however, Kouta yelped in pain; someone had shot an arm out from behind him and grasped a fistful of hair from the top of his head. Iwasaki let out a short scream behind him, followed by a series of rough, scuffling noises.

"Iwasaki-san!!" Kouta yelled, struggling with the grip on him as he felt his chest contract in concern, but his yell turned to a harsh groan of pain as the hand on his head tightened. He squinted up at his attacker, and saw another Shin Sakura student, with shaggy orange hair and narrowed eyes.

"Pathetic little Ogura brat," He rasped, as Kouta felt his eyes tear up from the stinging pain, "You should've kept yer nose outta our business."

As the thug shook him, so his head burned with pain, Kouta felt an inexplicable shot of fury pierce him. Pathetic? That was the last thing he wanted to be, and he was doing all he could to prove he wasn't, especially to the one girl behind him.

"I am not," Kouta said through clenched teeth, and he gripped the Carrot-top's arm with both hands tightly. As Carrot-top strained to loosen Kouta's grip, Kouta swung himself back before swerving his leg around and planting his foot into his attacker's jaw.

He felt something crunch - he wasn't sure whether it was his ankle, or the attacker's teeth - and the fingers in his hair released its painful hold as Carrot-top fell to the ground, his face slack and unconscious.

Kouta landed unevenly - realising the crunch hadn't been his ankle in relief - and spun around, raising his fists quickly. Iwasaki was staring at him, open-mouthed, as a stout, beefy looking punk held her around the neck and another, short and skinny Shin Sakura student glared at him.

"Let her go!" Kouta said bravely, standing as tall he could, but the short and skinny punk's eyes were unrelenting. They remained on Kouta, cold and narrow, as he spat at the ground.

"I don't think so," He hissed. Without another word, he dashed forward, far faster than Kouta could have anticipated, and delivered a sharp punch to his liver. The pain was phenomenal, and Kouta felt his entire body cramp and crumple in pain as his eyes bulged. He barely managed to keep himself on his feet, though he was crouching unsteadily, but his opponent did not wait; he shoved Kouta onto the wall with his left arm, hard, winding him.

Iwasaki shrieked something, but Kouta wasn't able to hear it well; everything was happening too fast, a blur of pain and colour, and with his attacker looking just about ready to pummel him into the wall, Kouta was frozen in fear and panicking inside. A new sensation, however, of resentment towards himself was burning the back of his mind - long ago, when he'd let those delinquents beat him up after Sawamura's jab at his lack of manliness, he'd felt pain far more intense than this, but why was it that he was still so weak--?

Angrily, Kouta tried to throw a punch, but missed by a mile. His attacker, entirely unimpressed, kicked up the fallen metal contraption on the floor to his hands. As Kouta struggled to bring his fists back, the short punk drove the instrument into his side. Pain exploded from his ribs; Kouta let out a yell as he fell to his knees, clutching at his side, unable to focus on anything else--

"KOUTA!!" Iwasaki screamed, and Kouta looked up at her with difficulty, wanting to tell her to run away but his tongue felt immobilised.

"You can join the 'party', if you like," The stout student chortled, squeezing her slightly with his arm, and Iwasaki suddenly clutched at it. Letting out a loud cry, she hurled the student over her shoulder. The punk let out a confused noise as his large form loomed over everyone, before he crashed onto the ground and fell silent.

"Wh-wha--?" The short punk held the metal pipe out in front of him hastily, looking startled, but Iwasaki sharply kicked the pipe out of his hands. As he attempted to scramble for his weapon, she spun around and kicked him hard with her other leg, sending him sprawling. Before he could get up, she slammed her heel against his temple.

Panting heavily, Iwasaki rubbed at her neck, scowling down at their fallen attackers. Then she glanced over at Kouta with a different, softer look. Offering her hand to him, she asked, "Are you okay, Kouta?"

He didn't realise his mouth was open until then, and he quickly shut it. He took her hand, and gingerly pressing his fingers against his bruised ribs, Kouta stood up. Nothing felt broken, and quite aware of her piercing gaze on him, Kouta quickly pulled his hand away and muttered awkwardly without looking at her, "I think so. How about you, Iwasaki-san?"

"I haven't done that move in such a long time," Iwasaki said, still rubbing her neck and wincing slightly, "Dad always said I needed to know all this just in case, but I never thought I'd actually use it."

Of course, Kouta realised, Iwasaki wasn't the daughter of the Iwasaki Karate Dojo for nothing. It had just never occurred to Kouta that she had been practicing it at all, because he hardly saw her around the dojo. The way she looked right now, her eyes bright and her back straight and tall... Realising he was blushing, Kouta gave himself a mental shake.

"Let's keep going," Iwasaki said, he nodded, starting to forge on ahead, when a dull shine on the floor caught his eye.

"What are these doing here?" He wondered, staring at the collection of small digital cameras at the side of the corridor.

"Wait a minute... Do you think they were going to use this for...?" Iwasaki's held up the metal contraption, looking slightly sick, and Kouta realised with a start that it was a tripod.

"Hey, you two," A low voice called out, one that Kouta recognised, "Did you knock my precious comrades out?"

Both Iwasaki and Kouta snapped their heads up. A tall figure with dark hair from a high hairline was standing a short distance down the hallway, the dark turquoise Shin Sakura long coat tucked under a muscular arm. Though his voice seemed relaxed, as well as his stance, his eyes were narrowed and icy.

"The guy from the locker room," Kouta murmured, recalling the chillingly light and humorous way the voice had described the repulsive plan to hurt Midori, and he heard Iwasaki suck in her breath.

Neither Iwasaki and Kouta replied to his question, but the tall figure seemed to know anyway. Keeping his cold eyes on them, he raised a black cellphone, which glinted in the dying sunlight, to his mouth.

"Well, now I know what's taking them so long," He said softly, "But you're really not gonna like it, Kiriyama."

TO BE CONTINUED...

Author's Notes: Phew, this is a long chapter, but I hope it captures the mounting action a bit more. Thank you, Zade, for being so awesome in your reviews and saying such kind things about how I write action. I'm so flattered, and it really does make me feel so glad. I really enjoy writing action, and it's a relief and pleasure to know that I can pull it off somewhat. Thank you for instilling that confidence in me!

There wasn't a lot of Seiji or Midori in this chapter, was there? I guess I gave this chapter to the support characters who came to help both Seiji and Midori out in this crisis. The action comes to a head in the next chapter, and I can tell you now that the resolution will take a long time. The reason for this will become clear, I hope, in the next chapter. As to when the next chapter will appear, I'm not quite sure, but... it will hopefully be soon.

Thank you for anyone who reviewed, I really, really appreciate it. It's very kind of you to take the time to leave a word and it's been very encouraging to me, and I plan to finish this fanfic with as much flourish as I can. :) But even if you're not reviewing, but reading, thank you for reading, too!

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