Chapter Text
Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason. Those were the words whispered in the hallways of Ketterdam School, muttered in the PE changing rooms, passed between friends like notes at the back of cover lessons. The boy frequently referred to as ‘that fucking bastard Brekker’ didn’t need a reason any more that he needed permission - to break a promise, to leak private messages, to throw hands in the Sainsbury’s carpark. There were rumours that he used to bite people at primary school.
That was all bullshit of course, Inej considered as she followed the crowd out of the Maths Block. Ignoring the rumour about biting people (which she suspected was probably accurate), most of the stories that surrounded Kaz were complete and utter bullshit. Inej didn’t know where they started, only that he didn’t try to deny them. What she did know was that Kaz didn’t do anything without a reason. Every move he made was carefully calculated, every seemingly impulsive choice backed up by days of consideration. He was a chess player and the world his board. She just hoped that didn’t make her his pawn.
So yeah, Kaz always had his reasons. Inej just couldn’t be sure they were good ones.
She descended the steps onto the ground floor. Through a mass of blue blazers, she caught sight of Jesper, laughing loudly with Big Bolliger, and slipped through the crowd towards them.
“Inej will be pissed but really, what can I do?”
“I’ll be pissed about what?”
Jesper half-jumped out his skin, “Saints Inej, you’ve got to stop doing that.”
“What will I be pissed about?” She asked again, directing the question to Big Bol who was still chuckling to himself.
“He’s got detention tomorrow.”
“What the hell Jesper! What about our geography spotlight?”
Jesper threw up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m sorry alright…Ow!”
Inej had hit him with her book.
“Now I’m gonna have to sit by myself. Again.” The crowd swayed around them as they filed through the outside doors, “What on earth did you do this time?”
“Nothing I swear.” Inej raised her eyebrows, “It was a cover lesson okay and that blond teacher hates me.”
“Jesper.” Came a rasping voice from behind them, “You spent the entire lesson throwing paper darts at the ceiling when her back was turned.” Kaz stood leant against wall of the Maths Block, tapping his cane impatiently against the damp ground.
“Jesper!”
“Oh come on, I wasn’t hurting anyone. You’ve got to admit it’s kinda funny. I mean… ow! Inej, seriously?”
“Children, children.” Kaz glanced down at his watch (recently ‘acquired’), “Quit your bickering. Inej, I’ll get him out of detention so relax. And Jesper, shut up. We’re gonna be late.”
Then he limped off, leaving them all to follow in his wake.
Outside the PE hall, they met Dirix and Rotty - both sixth formers and other foster kids from The Slat. Both boys nodded in Inej’s direction and fell into step beside Kaz. Inej followed slightly behind, watching their shadows blur into one dark mass across the concrete.
Soon, they reached the empty yard between the car park and hockey pitch. It was supposed to be neutral territory, located on the outskirts of the school grounds, but it didn’t feel that way to Inej. It felt like the moment in one of those horror films that Jesper had subjected her, when the music swelled before everything went wrong. Something was going to happen.
They paused outside.
“Right,” Rotty glanced around quickly before turning back the others, “we’ll wait here. Anyone got anything they shouldn’t?”
Jesper sighed deeply, “Really?”
It always went like this. Somebody would stand guard, watching out for teachers or prefects eager to hand out detentions whilst keeping hold of everyone’s pen-knifes and makeshift shanks in a vague attempt to stop the fight from breaking out. Technically if they were caught with anything sharp, they would risk expulsion, but in central London Inej preferred those odds to the idea of getting cornered in some back alley without anything to defend herself.
Slowly, with their backs turned to disguise the transaction, weapons exchanged hands. Jesper reluctantly dropped his pearl-handled knife (a gift from his father and his most prized possession) into Dirix’ waiting hands.
“You get a scratch on that and I’ll carve ‘forgive me’ into your chest.”
Dirix laughed but cradled the knife with extra care before placing it in Rotty’s rucksack along with Big Bol’s favoured weapon - a padlock at the end of a heavy bike chain.
“And what about that?” Jesper asked, pointing at Kaz’ cane.
“That’s ableist Jes.”
“Not really, you treat that thing like a lightsaber.”
“Easiest way to get cancelled on Twitter, tell a cripple to hand over his cane.”
Inej shook her head, smiling slightly. Nobody had asked for her knives. Good, she thought, they knew better than that. She patted the shank in her coat pocket - a protractor that she had sharpened in year 8 DT - and felt for the outlines of the various switchblades hidden in the lining. No teacher would think to search her - why would a prefect carry weapons?
“Stay sharp.” Kaz muttered to Rotty and Dirix before turning to Inej, “And stay hidden. No mourners?”
“No funerals.” The others echoed.
Obviously they could just say ‘good luck’ like normal people but a. Kaz had to be extra and b. Inej had actually come to like that little exchange. It made her feel like a proper spy. She slipped into the car park.
Inej lurked by the fence, just out of sight, and watched the boys pause in the centre of the muddy field. Kaz checked his watch again, his dark hair stained almost black by the rain.
“It’s half three.” He said to nobody in particular, rolling up his sleeves.
Then, like clockwork, the doors to the changing rooms opened and Geels appeared- a burly year 13 who spent more time in detention than out. He was accompanied by two other boys, dressed in identical North-face puffer jackets, Elzinger and Oomen. Elzinger was a rugby player and taller even than Jesper. Inej was suddenly glad that Kaz had brought Big Bolliger. He might be slow but at least he could look Elzinger in the eye whilst Kaz, even wearing his Docs, only reached his shoulders. Oomen, on the other hand, was barely taller than Kaz but built like an AI imitation of a person - all joints and pale skin. Uncanny-valley, Inej thought, or maybe he just did crack. Either way, he gave her the creeps.
“Afternoon Brekker.” Geels called, “You alright?”
“Fine. You?”
“Alright.”
Since arriving in England, Inej had leant that this exchange meant nothing. It didn’t matter whether you were actually alright or not, it’s just what you said. This was usually followed by…
“Nice weather we’ve been having?”
Honestly, Inej thought, trust the British to be that predictable. The small talk had no real purpose of course, only to waste time whilst the other boys patted each other down.
“Is it?” Kaz glanced up at the overcast sky before clearing his throat. “Listen Geels, you can’t keep taking our shit.”
“I’m not taking nobody’s shit.”
“Really?”
Geels paused, looking Kaz up and down as if sizing him up. “Look here kid, if this is about your bloody park…”
“Course it’s about our bloody park…”
“It’s public property. We’ve as much right to be there as you do.”
Inej skirted around the fence, keeping to the dark margins of the field. Technically Geels was correct, but the park, surrounded on one side by a dank block of offices and the other by a multi story carpark, had been all but abandoned until the Dregs found it. After realising that the city council didn’t give a shit, the gang had spent the previous summer fixing the swings, repairing the street lamp, claiming this tiny corner of London as their own. And since Geels and his cronies had been banned from the skatepark for bullying 7 year olds on scooters, they had relocated. The presence of bigger, scarier kids with bigger, scarier knifes in their sanctuary was anything but welcoming.
“You know we didn’t spend months cleaning up that place just for you to come and trash it. And definitely not for one of you to call the cops on us when we tried to kick you out. So find yourself somewhere else to smoke and drink and do whatever else it is you lot get up to. Just stay out of the park.”
Geels considered this for a moment, “Interesting offer Brekker. But I’m gonna have to decline.”
He glanced over towards the PE block before stepping closer. Kaz didn’t stand down.
“You know, there aren’t any teachers on duty today. Only sixth form prefects.”
“I’m aware.”
“Good. Good.” Geels grinned, revealing a missing tooth. “Then you’ll also do well to know that I’ve got those prefects in my pocket. Apparently 17 year olds will do pretty much anything for a bit of cash.”
“Apparently.”
Geels drew himself up to his full height. “Bit thick, aren’t you Brekker? Do I need to spell it out?”
Kaz glanced over, catching Inej’s eyes before looking back to face Geels (who hadn’t noticed his quick shift in attention). “I know you’re trying to threaten me Geels. I’m just deciding what to do about it.”
“Cocky little shit aren’t you?”
“I’m might be cocky but at least I’m not broke.”
Fucking Saints, Inej thought, as she edged around changing rooms, Kaz clearly had a death wish.
“Of course, it would all be a lot more threatening if I didn’t know the prefects on duty. Willem Holst and Bert Van Daal isn’t it?”
Elzinger cracked his knuckled, but Kaz continued. “One wrong move Geels and we’ll have half the school facility here in moments.”
Geels paled slightly but quickly regained his composure. “What’d you pay them? I emptied our pockets for this, they’re working for me.”
“Pity. I paid them nothing. Secrets are my currency.”
“Saints Brekker. Do you always talk like a fucking Victorian crime boss?”
Jesper started to laugh at this but a sharp elbow from Big Bolliger shut him up.
“Sorry, I’ll translate: they won’t do shit for you ‘cause if they do I’ll tell their mummy’s what they get up to on weekends.”
Inej caught movement in her peripheral vision and spotted Van Daal lurking near the PE wall. His eyes were fixed on the little group of boys, oblivious to her presence. From what she’d seen, no teachers were nearby and even if it wasn’t, they couldn’t be seen here. It had rained all day and the overcast sky only grew darker. She approached Van Daal from behind, slipping her shank into her hand.
“Go on Geels. Call them.”
In one moment, Geels swung round to call out and Inej slipped next to the boys, pressing the edge of the shank against Van Daal’s kidney. “Shhhh.” He stiffened but didn’t make a sound.
“Van Daal!”
No reply. Obviously.
“Holst!”
No reply. Strange, but not completely unexpected if what Kaz said was true.
“That’s strange Geels. Didn’t have a back up plan, did you?”
From Inej’s new position, she couldn’t make out Geels’ face but she could see square his shoulders. Fuck.
“Course I did.” She heard a click of metal, and saw Oomen hand Geels a switchblade.
“We said no weapons!” Jesper yelled in outrage, “And Big Bol patted you down, he… oh.”
Fuck. Fuck. Van Daal shifted and Inej didn’t stop him, tracking Kaz’ movement with her eyes. He didn’t look surprised. Should she let Van Daal call a teacher? Had Holst done that already? Or was everybody waiting? Should she just let Kaz enact whatever crackpot scheme he’d come up with this time?
“I’m disappointed Bolliger” Came Kaz’ calm, rasping voice. “If you were gonna lie to me, you could have at least done it well.”
“I…I…”
“You…you…” He mocked, almost laughing. Inej wanted to hit him. “You told Geels about the park. You called the cops on us. I knew you were desperate for popularity Bolliger but being a snitch is not the way to go about it.”
“Still.” Geels said, a hint of disappointment in his voice - clearly he expected the reveal to have more of a reaction. “Still, I’ve got a knife to your chest.”
“True. But you’re not going to stab me. Even you can’t be that stupid.”
Inej didn’t realise that she’d been pressing the shank harder into Daal’s side until she heard him hiss out in pain. She drew back slightly. As soon as they got out of the school, she was going to hit Kaz.
“Why not?” Geels laughed. “Would any teacher seriously believe that I stabbed you?”
“Yes, quite easily.”
“Shut your mouth, Brekker. Shut your fucking…”
“Elise.”
Suddenly Geels went quite still. Oomen and Elzinger exchanged a look over his shoulder. “What?”
“Elise, that’s her name, isn’t it? Your girlfriend?”
Geels said nothing.
“She’s pretty. Polite. Goes to that prissy Catholic school a few miles over. Isn’t allowed to date, from what I’ve heard.”
Geels opened and closed his mouth, like a tall, ugly goldfish.
“I’ve got photographic evidence. Damning photographic evidence. And an automatic post set on Instagram.”
Geels phone pinged in his coat pocket and Kaz smiled, a cold smile, like a cat watching the ugly goldfish in its bowl. “Wouldn’t want lovely Elise’s parents to know that not only is she dating someone, but that she’s dating you.”
Silence. And then Geels pulled back, slipping his switchblade into his pocket. Inej loosened her grip on Van Daal’s coat, whispered in his ear; “Don’t say a word.” Van Daal ran off, stumbling over the rain slick grass.
“You’re a fucking bastard Brekker.” Geels whispered. “You’ll get kicked out someday, if there’s any justice in the world.”
“And you had a go at me for being poetic.”
Geels snarled and stalked off, trailed by his loyal hound-dogs. Kaz turned to Bolliger, “If you try anything again, I’ll break your nose.“ Then he nodded to Jesper. “Let’s go.”
They left, abandoning Bolliger in the muddy grass. He didn’t try to stop them. Inej considered saying something to him, but thought better of it.
Besides, she thought as she followed Kaz and Jesper back towards the light of the school, she didn’t have time for snitches.