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“I didn’t think an ugly twink bastard like you could be so underhanded, but even a genius like me is wrong sometimes, huh?”
Akira, no sooner than he’d finished wiping off his hands, was interrupted; the indignance in his stare at such a violation of his privacy was obvious, and he opened his mouth to speak. Reiko, though, held up her hand to shut him up, and as if still processing what he was seeing, stood there chastised.
“Nobody in this shithole knows what a fair fight is, do they? Tch. You’re a borderline pervert.”
“I didn’t force you to watch, though I-“
“Shut the fuck up.”
Reiko was perched on top of the lectern at the top of the class, her legs crossed and her face nonchalantly smug, as if she had watched something relaxing and simple, instead of Akira’s indulgence in his murderous fantasy.
“What, are you not used to being spoken to like that? You’re fuckin’ spoiled, too?” Reiko made a gagging gesture as he continued to stand there, incredulous. “It’s your lucky day, though!”
“Oh, I hardly think so—“
“I’ll offer you a fair fight to prove your salt as anything other than a braindead bitch.”
Her words were so rough and aggressive that Akira was stunned to silence, but he walked towards her anyway. “How is it a fair fight if you are less than human?”
“That’s some hypocritical shit coming from you. Anyway, I won’t do anything underhanded, as a woman of my word and you – sneaky as you might think you are – can’t use that shit on me even if you wanted to. Ropes are only in a cowardly man’s toolkit, y’know?”
“I don’t have to prove myself to you.”
“Pussy.”
That word seemed to be enough to get Akira to lunge at her, and without hesitating she kicked him in the face and sent him reeling backwards, a satisfying feeling in her ankle and a smug grin on her own face as she watched him regain his balance. “Geez… did I hurt your feelings? You’re a murderer, and you’re STILL a pussy?” She hopped down to give him a better chance, and watched the twisted expression on his face form as soon as he realised her height. That was the problem with people like him, and it always had been – no matter how long Reiko wandered the school, there was always, always some other conceited, lecherous bastard that thought they could get the better of her. And they were always wrong.
It was Reiko who struck first this time, taking Akira by surprise again, kicking him in the stomach and causing him to double over – but he wasn’t quite done in, attempting to kick her feet away from her.
“Weak ass,” Reiko called, smug as ever, giving him a heavy shove that threw him on to his back, cackling at the mangled, bitter expression on his face. The utter rage in his face was fuel to her, and she stepped on his neck – not enough to cause him any harm, just enough to humiliate him further. His head rested not far away from the pile of guts he had freshly torn from Hideaki’s body, and she crossed her arms as she looked at it. Akira was clawing at her ankle, though she could barely feel it. “You’re just a fuckin’ loser. Your nose is even bleeding! Imagine being beaten by me, and I’ve been in the same position as your greasy-ass boyfriend for the last decade. And so easily, too!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Akira grunted, and Reiko dug her heel into his throat before freeing him, and taking a step back, giving him a short, dark chuckle.
“You’re gonna end up just like him. You look like you kiss yourself in the mirror in the morning, tongue and all. Maybe I should just put you out of your misery?”
“I’m not miserable. Miserable only because I was forced to look at you.”
“HAH, right. I’ll give somebody else that luxury. I hope that guy comes back and kicks your ass for me.”