Chapter Text
Kiri fought every instinct that said to run. The hairs on the back of their neck pulled their attention away from their textbook. Someone was watching them. It was an unfortunately common feeling lately.
Kiri ran through everything they knew about the classroom they were in. There were no external windows, so whoever it was had to be in there with them. Without looking around, they knew there were twelve students and one teacher in the room. It was a free period, so half the students ran off, while the smart kids used it to study. It wasn’t the teacher. He was grading papers, so that ruled out the most ideal situation. If he wasn’t keeping an eye on them, for once, then someone else in the room wanted to pick a fight.
Before long, Kiri couldn’t stand it. They turned around and scanned their classmates to find the culprit. Their eyes immediately locked with the offending gaze. It was an orange-haired boy. Some smart kid, top of the class. Maybe even top of the grade. Oh yeah, Hara Iori. That made sense. Kiri kicked his ass a couple weeks ago; took him out of school for two days. He should know better than to try anything, so Kiri turned back around and kept reading. He’s just glaring at the back of their head. As if he can do anything to get back at them for it.
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Apparently he can do something. Kiri stared up at him as they realized what happened. Hara had been watching longer than Kiri realized.
He figured out that Kiri hated crowds—not even crowds, just people—and funneled them into a dead end alley behind the school. Damn. Kiri cursed for not realizing it sooner. The few students they kept coming across (even though their path home was always clear) were all his friends. Why does someone have that many friends anyway? Three guys were blocking the entrance of the alley while this son of a bitch just followed Kiri into the alley, and shanked them from behind. The blow brought Kiri to their knees, and he was gloating as if he actually won something. Sure, he had the upper hand at the exact moment, but he wouldn’t keep it for long.
Kiri seethed silently as he spoke. They didn’t pay any attention to what Hara said, instead thinking of the blood that seeped into their jacket. That would stain. At the very least, the bleeding stopped quickly. Kiri took a couple of seconds to knit their flesh back together, closing the wound and dulling the pain.
“You think you just did something impressive?” Kiri’s voice cut through his cocky demeanor. Horror filled his face as they stood up and dusted off their skirt. “I mean, your aim is terrible. Did you even try hitting something vital?”
Kiri’s eyes flicked past the boy’s shoulder. His friends were closing in now that Kiri didn’t look helpless. Two of them weren’t very threatening, but one boy looked a couple years older. He’s a mystery, the only one they really needed to be careful of.
“Come on! Let’s get this over with so I can go home.” Kiri cracked their knuckles and stepped into a wider stance, “You clearly didn’t learn anything from our last fight.”
That helped Hara find his voice, “I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t broken, like, half my ribs! Bitch!”
“Six is not half your ribs. Get over it.” When he started to reply, Kiri lunged forward. He was off balance and went down easily. Their fists met meat, bone, and blood in quick succession. His face was barely recognizable in a matter of seconds. Kiri only let up as the bigger of his friends stepped forward.
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Kiri sat on the floor outside the principal’s office and ran their hands up and down their arms. The past half hour continually replayed in their head. The whole fight had lasted only a few minutes, yet they were straining their quirk to keep all their injuries covered. As they recalled each of their injuries, they cringed and folded their legs closer to their chest.
First there were bruises on their knees and hands from fighting back. Bruises were surely covering their whole back, as well as one in the shape of a hand on their right thigh. The grip was so strong that there was even a fracture in that femur. Three long slashes to their right arm, and four short gashes on their left forearm. Their nose and jaw were both broken. Their shoulder was no longer dislocated, but they could feel the swelling around the joint. Kiri couldn’t stop from shaking when they remembered the hands around their neck, claws digging into the sides. Kiri clapped their hands over the invisible wounds. A single lapse in concentration would open them, and the collar of their shirt would quickly be drenched in red. Finally, the stab wound on their back. The knife glanced off their lowest rib, leaving behind a fracture, otherwise the cut would be much deeper.
The teacher that dragged Kiri away had not been very gentle. His barrier knocked them backwards from the fight, and then he grabbed them by the wrists as a mimicry of arrest. Adrenaline kicked back up as Kiri put his face to a different memory. He was the only teacher they had ever had an altercation with. Was he extra rough to pay them back? A power trip to remind Kiri that they couldn’t fight back or else? Kiri looked up. He was standing across the hallway, leaning against the wall as if he was chatting with a friend instead of trapping a teenager in an impenetrable dome.
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