2. Dissonance

A second week passed without any heart-stopping moments. Unless trying to avoid the F4, or a certain Hanazawa Rui, could be counted. Not that Ayano wasn’t always pushed out of the way to begin with.

So, yes, a week without danger, and, for once, one without perpetual teasing (Asai and co. were too busy grooming themselves to be future F4 brides). For Ayano, at least. Less could be said for the increasing number students who had already unfortunately managed to get on the nerves of the F4.

Two weeks and they’ve managed to dominate the student population? Ayano didn’t know whether to be disgusted or impressed.

Her thoughts were abruptly cut off as she approached the cafeteria, looking for Sakurako, and noticed an unusual and rapidly growing tornado of commotion.

Wait. This is kind of familiar. Why? Oh yeah, two weeks of torture. Yes, I really should get used to this almost daily occurrence.

Of course, Ayano normally wouldn’t have stood by the sidelines, especially when the one being victimized was innocent. But then again, these were Eitoku students she was talking about. No doubt, they probably were not at fault. Oh well. Treat it as delayed punishment. With this rather unsympathetic thought, she walked off flippantly. Or rather, she was about to, when something stopped her.

“Who is it? Who is it?” the Eitoku students were surprisingly adept at backstabbing their own kind when the “higher-ups” ordered it.

“Not even one of us. It’s that Sanjou Sakurako. You know, the one the prissy poor-girl Makino always hangs out with? Apparently she sp-…”

Ayano heard no more, for she had sped off. Sakurako!

-

Twisting and turning her way through the massive crowd, she finally made her way to the front, only to see Sakurako sprawled out on the floor, encircled by their jeering counterparts. Her hair was matted with garbage, normally immaculate uniform ripped and torn.

Seated grandly in front of her was Domyoji Tsukasa. He stared at her nonchalantly, mouth curling into a smug grin, as Sakurako bent her head pitifully, only daring to make eye contact with the ground. Catcalls ripped from the bloodthirsty crowd; rotten eggs regularly pelted Sakurako’s prone body.

Ayano only froze momentarily. She had seen and heard enough. As Sakurako’s shoulders shook with sobs, Ayano broke free from the Eitoku ranks and stepped from the crowd.

“Sakurako!” Ayano flung herself on the ground next to her friend, careful not to touch her. Who knew what sort of injuries she might have sustained?

The cafeteria fell into shocked silence. Hanazawa Rui’s eyes widened ever so slightly. Domyoji Tsukasa’s narrowed in irritation.

“Are you alright?” Ayano asked, voice laced both with concern and rage. She knew, though, for her friend’s sake, if not her own, that it was best not to provoke Domyoji Tsukasa.

Inwardly wincing at the blow to her ego, she knelt in front of the annoyed tyrant, kowtowing humbly. “I apologize for Sakurako! I’m very sorry!”

The loud clack of shoes on hardwood indicated Domyoji’s abrupt standing. Ayano kept her head bowed, even as the black leather shoes appeared within her vision, literally right under her nose. She lifted her head meekly, hoping her expression was one more of apology and fear than anger – that wouldn’t sit very well with the egoistic bastard.

-

Domyoji Tsukasa had always preferred addressing things on a more physical than verbal level. “Sorry?” His eyebrows beetled together to form an angry ‘v’ shape on his forehead. “If everything could be solved by saying sorry, what are the police for?”

Again, Ayano reined in her anger. “Domyoji-san, I sincerely apologize for Sakurako, please be gracious and forgive her.” Her tone, however, was now unconsciously curt, and her eyes blazed with barely banked irritation.

Dense though Domyoji might have been, he was apparently extremely adept at recognizing faked contriteness, for the next thing Ayano knew, he had gripped her blazer lapel and hauled her up from her kneeling position.

“You bitch, don’t lie to me!”

The crowd gasped in unison as Domyoji’s large hand made harsh contact with Ayano’s face, almost causing the girl to lose her balance.

Hanazawa Rui shook his head in resignation. Tsukasa, you are so dead.

-

The crowd’s silence soon swelled into a mass of whispers; even if Makino wasn’t one of them, to have offended Domyoji Tsukasa to the state of him losing his temper, the poor girl was so dead. Death might be a better option than facing his wrath.

Makino Tsukushi faced the ground resolutely, shoulders shaking violently. Tsukasa smirked, that stupid bitch had thought she could fool him with her half-assed apologies. Well, she’d deserved to get slapped!

Just thinking about her fake manner sent another rush of fury through him. No one had ever incited him to the point of him losing his temper that fast. He gripped her shoulder, fully intending to deliver a swift punch to her gut, female or not.

A hand stopped his.

“How dare you raise your hand to a girl.” Her voice was calm and without inflection. Her strangely neutral tone had Tsukasa staring at her, anger momentarily forgotten. No one had ever reacted to him like that before.

Ayano raised her head, eyes glittering not with tears, but unbridled scorn. “I’d say you weren’t worth my time, but it seems like someone has to teach you a lesson in humility and put an end to your egocentricity.”

She sneered at his stunned countenance. “Aww, don’t know what the big words mean? Check a dictionary, baka.”

It was like a switch had been thrown, a trigger pulled.

One could practically see the trails of smoke being ejected from the ears of the Domyoji heir. There went any hopes that he might let the matter rest. Nor were there any mistaken signs that Domyoji Tsukasa actually respected the female gender, for at that very moment, he lunged forward with a clenched fist and a rather tribal war cry towards Ayano.

Makino Tsukushi would have been sent to either the hospital or the morgue that day. But Kurimaki Ayano was one who was more likely to send Domyoji Tsukasa to those very places.

As it was, she had a black belt in karate, judo, and kendo.

With a practiced ease that was almost instinctive, Ayano whirled around gracefully in a smooth 360 degrees. Gasps issued from the F4 groupies, the first time anyone had successfully avoided a Domyoji blow. Many were impressed, and one of Hanazawa Rui’s eyebrows lifted in an elegant arch.

Now armed with a legitimate reason to attack the King of Eitoku, Ayano was putting it to full use. Fuelling her suppressed rage into icy confidence, Ayano’s stare bore straight down into the dark glare of the 6-foot tall guy.

Raging fire flared behind the icy depths. Chocolate brown clashed with inky black, electric currents crackling strong between the two. Ayano’s clear voice broke the spell. “You want a challenge? You’re on.”

-

xoxoxo

Yay! Two chapters in such a short span (ie. within one year)! Haha I'm feeling inordinately proud of myself now, seeing as how this story has been left hanging for waaaay too long. Sadly, I have the nasty feeling the next update won't be for ages D: My writer's block sucks like that. But we'll see. Again, R&R :D

And for those who were wondering, the quote from the previous chapter was "The maids know everything" from Princess Diaries 2 the movie.

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