Chapter 17

Flash Point

Flash Point: The lowest temperature that a volatile material can vaporize to form an ignitable mixture in air.

There has been an odd escalation of violence in Namimori ever since we returned to school. It's unprecedented, and it seems to be directed exclusively at Nami Chuu's students (There have been three separate beatings of five students over the last few days alone). Something tells me that those Kokuyo punks might be mad at Hibari again.

Other than that, it's been uneventful for the last few days that we've been back at school; though I guess that's not such a bad thing...

But, still, I'm feeling antsy. I need to fight. I feel like causing a schoolyard brawl, crossing blades with Hibari, or even just arguing with Bomber-Boy. I need something to jolt me awake from the sleepy peace of Namimori.

But it wouldn't be bad to spend the rest of your days like this... Peaceful...ne?

I scowl to myself. Of course not. I need some action; some trouble... or I'll go and cause some.

It's a regular school day. I leave a bit earlier than Tsuna so as not to be seen walking with him—and no doubt pestered by Yamamoto and Gokudera—and so I can walk with Haru for a while before parting ways. She attends the prestigious (or so I've heard) Midori Girl's Academy on the other side of town, but I've found that she's interesting to talk to. Well, mostly she talks and I listen. We're not a bad match.

She talks of producing the school play and how she's the set and costume designer, as well as a stagehand and how tough the jobs actually are, especially all at once. She had turned down the offer of being the lead's understudy so that she could commit fully to her other jobs. Haru says that they have to practice for many hours, but how, in the end, everything would come together and it'd all be worth it—the money earned by the production would be donated to charity.

She gasps suddenly, having forgotten something or other—homework, scripts, her measuring tape and the like. Today, it's her lunch.

I chastise her lightly about her forgetfulness and the stress that her jobs are causing her, but she insists that she loves them despite the long hours and effort required.

Then as I hand her the small package, she brings up a common topic—manga—and we're off. It turns out that Haru's a closet otaku, though she mainly reads Shojo and the psychological thrillers, while I generally stick to classic Shonen and Seinen and the occasional horror manga. And, as it would be, she's also an avid cosplayer (which would explain her passion for costume design in spite of the tedious labour involved).

At the corner by the bridge, we part ways. I laugh and wave to her as she turns down another street, yelling a loud "thanks!" back at me.

And then I continue on alone.

"I'll be handing back the science tests that you wrote a few days ago. I'm shocked and appalled that three of this class's students failed it," Sensei says.

I mentally go through the attendance list. One of them is obviously going to be—

"Sawada Tsunayoshi! You've pulled down the class average with this!" Sensei holds the paper up for all to see the '20%' clearly marked in angry red ink.

Tsuna sinks down lower in his seat, and I see Gokudera's chair start scraping backwards. His anger is evident even if I can only see the back of his Octopus-head.

"What? You have something to say, Gokudera? Well, why don't we see what your mark is?" Sensei skims through the papers, pulling one out. His face darkens, matching Bomber-Boy's sour expression. Only from my seat can the mark be seen, because of the light shining into the room and bleeding through the paper—'100%'.

Who knew Bomber-Boy was a genius?

Sensei slams the paper, face-down, onto his desk. Gokudera, even knowing he's technically 'won', still doesn't calm down because of the earlier slight at his precious Juudaime.

It's not until Sensei moves onto the next person he's got beef with that Gokudera's scowl disappears. "Yamamoto!" he barks.

I hear shuffling behind me as Yamamoto is startled awake. "'M'here!" he calls in a sleepy, yet jovial tone.

Whatever that means...

"Stop sleeping in class!" Sensei looks exasperated. "You'll need remedial classes if your marks are consistently low. You might also be temporarily taken off of the baseball team," he warns as he walks past me to put the test paper down on Yamamoto's desk.

"Aww..." Yamamoto sighs at his 49%, "I was so close..." I watch him as he fixes the textbook in front of his face and probably falls back asleep.

I sigh, then freeze as I turn back around to see Sensei glowering down at me. "And you..." he growls. "You've beaten the class's...no, the school's, personal record." He holds my test up like a trophy, letting the entire class revel in the mark. "You've even beaten Sawada!"

He slams the sheet down on my desk, and I look down at the angry kanji and loopy hiragana crisscrossing the page, complimented by X's; insult is added to injury by the single-digit numeral in the top right corner: 7%.

"—obviously guessed! Your answers, when actually applicable, are hardly even legible!"

"That just means that you can't read English..." I mutter to myself.

By this time, people are either blatantly staring at me or have politely ducked their heads and refrained from making eye contact with me. But no matter, I feel their gazes and thoughts on me, and my cheeks flush in response.

"Excuse me?" he asks, voice rising. The rest of the class is silent as they watch the altercation. "The only questions you answered correctly were the balancing of chemical equations. Why is that? The rest of your paper—the short answer questions, the essay questions, even the multiple choice—was completely wrong!"

I turn the test over. Sure enough, I screwed up on the multiple choice questions as well. Hmm, oh well. This stuff is garbage material anyway. Why would I ever need to know this? My fingernails dig into the palms of my hands underneath my desk.

Sensei continues in his self-righteous rant, no doubt to 'make an example of me' since he can't exactly do this to Gokudera. He's having a field day. "Can you not read? Is that it? Who taught you Japanese?"

I was only taught enough to get in and out of Japan to assassinate the Decimo—I'd never really expected to stay this long. My teachers were both powerful people—multilingual, non-Japanese, of the Mafia underworld, and above all, dead.

It takes all of my willpower to stay in my seat and not take my frustrations out on him—this just isn't the right opponent—and just to answer him civilly.

"Why're you so hung up on that?" I throw back, subconsciously jutting my chin out challengingly. "You're a science teacher. So teach me science, and leave language to the language teacher. Maybe if you were more concerned with actually teaching your students and not trying to outsmart Gokudera—which you really fail at (he's the one that makes you look stupid)—then you wouldn't have students that were failing. Just a thought... You can carry on now if you'd like."

...Alright...somewhat civilly.

I watch as Sensei's face gradually reddens. "That's a detention for you, Asunake. Report to the Reception room afterschool," Sensei says tightly.

Most of the kids avoid me at lunch, opting to 'stay away from the trouble kid'. I shrug. It's not like I wanted their attention, nor company, anyway.

I head up to the rooftop. Instead of feeling better after that row with the teacher, I actually feel pumped; and I'm thinking that a confrontation with Hibari would be great right now. But I don't see him anywhere.

I kick at the still-rusting chain-link fence, mulling over my irritation, letting it fester and grow. It's probably not the healthiest way to blow off steam, what with the creation of yet more anger, but what else is there to do?

There's the ta-tap, ta-tap of running footsteps, accompanied by much yelling, then the door opens, revealing a panting Kyoko.

"Kyoko?" I walk over to her, unsure of what happened, or what to do.

She looks up with a worried smile. "Kariya-chan! Are you okay?"

"Geez," another voice calls, "what were you thinking, Kyoko?" Hana walks up to us, offering her hand to Kyoko who accepts it.

Hana cleans Kyoko off while the smaller girl looks up at her. "It's alright, Hana."

"I'm telling you," the black-haired girl says to Kyoko, then looks up at me, "I mean, no offense to you, Asunake," then she turns back to Kyoko, "you shouldn't associate yourself with such people. It's bad for your own reputation and education. You don't want to get on the teachers' bad sides," Hana says matter-of-factly.

"Hana!" Kyoko exclaims.

"What? It's true," Hana says.

"Hana's right," I agree. "You shouldn't worry about me. You've got problems of your own. Go ahead and eat your lunch." I turn away from them. Leave me alone...!

"If it's alright with you, Kariya-chan, we'll eat up here with you," Kyoko says determinedly.

"Kyoko-chan! Kurokawa!" Tsuna's voice shouts. His eyes settle on me. "Kariya-san!"

"Hey," I greet gruffly, turning away. Great. More idiots. What is this? A travelling freak show? Of course, if Tsuna's involved, he's not in it alone—

"Tsuna! Sasagawa-senpai's still looking for you!" Yamamoto laughs. "He says that he wants you in his boxing club whether you like it or not."

"Nii-san..." Kyoko sighs.

"Juudaime!" Gokudera leaps out from the stairs. "I won't let that Lawn-Head get you!"

Hana scoffs, which sparks a (sort-of one-sided) argument between her and Gokudera (because as much as she insists that she's mature, I can see that she's just as opinionated as the male in question).

Somehow, though, we end up sitting in a rough, circular arrangement on the rooftop, the boys having already eaten, and the girls who have pulled their bento boxes out.

Tsuna shoots me an odd look, but I disregard it.

"So, is it true?" Gokudera asks suddenly, breaking the uncomfortable silence (even Kyoko has stopped trying to fill it with idle chitchat).

"What?" I ask.

"That you can't read," he elaborates.

"I can read!" I shoot back indignantly.

Reborn appears, seemingly from nowhere, landing on Tsuna's head and bowling him over. Hana cries out, hives breaking out on her skin. She stands, yelling something about 'hating kids' and runs off.

Kyoko looks around at us before scooping up her and Hana's belongings. She bows, excusing herself quickly, and runs after her.

"...What just happened?" I ask.

"Kurokawa doesn't like kids...she gets hives whenever she's near them," Tsuna explains. "Especially around Lambo..." he adds as an afterthought.

I nod. Around Lambo, that's understandable. But I have to think back to the ten-years-later Lambo. He didn't seem that bad. At least Lambo, no matter how annoying he is now, grows up to be a nice kid.

"Anyway, why're you here Reborn?" You just conveniently showed up now to rid us of the only two among us that aren't related to the Mafia, ne? Coincidence? Obviously not. Some shit's going down.

Reborn smirks, pulling out a manila folder ("Waa! Reborn! Where'd you get that from?"). He takes a few sheets out. "These are some of your documents. They were all returned just a few days ago, am I correct?"

I don't bother replying as he already knows the answer.

Reborn continues, "No matter...I dug into the school system and found your grades for the short time that you've been at Nami Chuu."

"Where's this going?" I question, genuinely confused.

He smirks, and then begins reading off of the sheets. "Physical Education: 71%. Asunake Kariya is encouraged to participate more in class and for team sports. When she does participate she is a pleasure to teach." Reborn pauses to assess my reaction.

"Generic crap," I say. "The teacher actually just hates me, all because I'm a ball hog and I need to share with all these idiots. Well, if I do 'share', then I'm not exactly participating anymore, am I?"

"That's not true, Kari-chan," Yamamoto replies. "That's just how team sports work. And it's more fun that way, isn't it?"

"No," I answer immediately, playing Devil's Advocate. "No, it's not."

Reborn continues to read, effectively cutting Gokudera off. If he hadn't, it would've ignited the argument that I'm still itching for. I sit back, a bit disappointed. "Math: 83%. Asunake Kariya is encouraged to participate more in class. She demonstrates an average understanding of concepts taught in class, and is encouraged to try to apply these skills in word problems, which she appears to struggle with."

"What he means is that he wants me to pay more attention in class," I transliterate. "That and the fact that I suck at word problems. So what? Everyone does worse in word problems than the simple arithmetic ones, ne?"

"No, it's just you," Gokudera mutters under his breath.

That's it! I smirk internally.There's the fight I've been waiting for.

Reborn jumps onto my head, keeping me down and unable to move over to Gokudera. I growl shortly at his action as he flips the page. "Science: 44%. Asunake Kariya is advised to change her attitude regarding her education."

Their eyes widen, and I do my best to glare up at Reborn, who's still occupying the crown of my head.

"Is that all he bothered to write?" I ask, a smirk creeping onto my face.

"For a failing student with that kind of attitude, you should be grateful that he bothered to write anything at all," Reborn replies smartly, effectively killing the self-righteous sense of pride growing in my chest.

"Kariya-san...I didn't know you were struggling in school..." Tsuna breathes.

"Shut up!" I retort, face turning red, then add in a mutter, "It's only because I hate the subject..."

"Is that so?" Reborn murmurs thoughtfully. There's the sharp crackle of the paper as Reborn flips another page. The corner of the sheet pokes me in the eye, and I flinch, brushing it angrily out of my face, threatening to rip the staple out and send the papers flying.

Reborn ignores me as he reads, "History: 51%. Asunake Kariya exemplifies her knowledge of dates and timelines in her work, though she is advised to focus more on the happenings and events in history in a more in-depth manner."

"Well, you always seem to know the right answer when it comes to the date of an event or war or stuff like that!" Yamamoto says brightly.

"Are you stupid?" Gokudera scoffs. "The teacher's saying that that's all she knows."

"Well those things are just easier to remember, and it's faster to read those—y'know, last minute studying and all that...just connect a number to a major event. That's it."

"And that's why you're barely passing the subject," he fires back.

Touché... I have nothing to say to that.

Reborn cuts in then, saving me the trouble of thinking of a retort. "English: 90%. Asunake Kariya shows an exceptional understanding of the English language. She shows avidness for the language, writing book reports, and even essays, in English. The effort is much appreciated, but she is advised to follow the rubrics and write them in the required language—Japanese."

"Show-off," Gokudera mutters.

"Why would you do that anyway, Kariya-san?" Tsuna asks. "I mean, it—"

Reborn cuts him off. "Japanese: 29%," he pauses for effect before continuing, "Asunake Kariya is advised to take remedial classes to catch up to her classmates. She shows a below-average understanding of the written language. The current mark is from a weight system using a 50% weight factor for written Japanese, 30% for reading and comprehension, and 20% for oral. She scored 10% in writing, 20% in reading/comprehension and 90% in oral. Supplementary classes are strongly suggested."

There's a long silence.

"What?" I growl. "If you have anything to say, don't hold back for me. Just say it, dammit."

"Even Tsuna has a low 50 average in Japanese," Reborn speaks. I can hear the smirk in his voice.

"You're illiterate," Gokudera concludes.

"I'm not fucking illiterate! I can read and write perfectly well!"

"Yeah, not Japanese, obviously."

"K-Kariya-san...can you really not read or write Japanese?"

I look away from them angrily. "I can speak it fine."

"You should ask for help when you need it, Kariya," Reborn says, jumping over onto Tsuna's head.

"Che. Is that why you did this?" I hiss. "Well, I'm telling you, I don't need help! I can get along just fine. I can recognize enough words to survive and that's good enough for me!"

"You won't be much to use to us if you can't read or write," Reborn replies calmly.

Yamamoto interjects, "Do you really write in English on your tests?"

My anger is temporarily defused as my train of thought switches tracks. "What? How do you know that?" I ask, surprised.

"I heard you in class," he replies simply. Well, that's to be expected, as he sits right behind me.

"Wait, weren't you sleeping?"

"Haha~ I was kinda'...ish half awake."

"Che. Well you shouldn't be sleeping in class anyway."

"That's true...I'll pay more attention if you try harder in school," Yamamoto says. "Or, I can help you in Japanese if you'll help me with math!"

"Che. You? Teaching?" Gokudera laughs shortly at Yamamoto.

I'm caught off guard and I stammer for a few moments until I realize what it is that he's trying to do. "Do what you will, and I'll do what I want. What you want to do is no business of mine, just like what I choose to do is none of yours."

"Kariya-san, we can help you."

"Che," I scoff, standing and walking back towards the stairs.

"K-Kariya-san! Aren't you at least going to eat something? Where's your bento that Kaa-san made for you?"

"I threw it out," I say sarcastically before rolling my eyes. "What do you think?"

I slam the door behind me.

"Oi..." I call out as I slide the door to the nurses' office open. "Oi...anybody here? I feel sick, so I'm gonna' lie down and sleep some. For a bit. Or for a long time. Whatever..." I say to the room.

Shrugging, I plop down on one of the beds, only to find myself face-to-face with a lecherous grin.

"Why hello there, young lady. It's a small world, isn't it?" Shamal chuckles.

I have no intention of giving up the comfy bed, so I hold my ground. "Fancy meeting you here; I would never have expected the school to allow such a pervert to become the school nurse. I'm not one for small talk, so leave me alone." I then roll over and close my eyes.

"My, my, Kariya-chan—" I stiffen at my name, but realize that as the school nurse, he probably has access to a whole bunch of my files. "—why so sad? Won't you tell me what troubles you?"

"No," I answer curtly. "Leave me alone. I don't even know you. All I know of you is that you've got something to do with the—" I cut myself off. I only think that he's in the Mafia...but what if he's not?

He chuckles. "It's alright, little lady; Reborn told me about you."

"You know Reborn?" I frown, sitting up.

"Yes, we go back a ways," he answers vaguely—professionally.

My eyes narrow, and I offer a small (testy) smile, if not only in admiration. This man hides an intelligent mind behind his outer persona.

He sits up, chuckling lightly. "You are quite the feisty one," he says, and I pause, unsure of whether to lie back down or bolt. So I just stare at him suspiciously. "...But it couldn't be that you're hiding something, could it? Why won't you tell me, little lady? I might be able to help."

"Yeah right. I highly doubt it. Now leave me alone, dammit." I shake out the blanket, letting it settle over me naturally.

I feel Shamal's observant gaze, examining me, poking holes in my defence.

"I know why the ballerina dances," he says, studying my face closely. The statement is too sudden, too random, too unexpected for me to anticipate. Dammit! He got my guard down!

"O-Oh? What do you mean?" I attempt to cover up my mistake weakly, when all I'd like to do is pound his face in until he tells me where he got his information from and why the hell he's digging into my past anyway.

He chuckles, smoothing his jacket down, and walking to the door. "Don't play dumb with me, Kariya-chan."

I freeze, a shocked expression giving way to anger.

But before I can retort, he deals the killing blow: "The ballerina still dances."

Then he leaves me to ponder and seethe at his words alone.

I skip the rest of school, staring at the ceiling of the nurses' office. When the final bell rings, I head to the reception room—maybe instead of a detention, I can release my anger in the form of another scrimmage with Hibari.

However, when I enter the room, I find it filled with various members of the Disciplinary Committee. They're lined up on the sides of the room in an orderly fashion, while one appears to be speaking to Hibari at his desk. They all look so tense.

"What's...going on here?" I ask, not sure that I should be asking, or even here, for that matter.

Their eyes all turn onto me, and I gasp as I see the man at Hibari's desk. When he turns around, I see the blood running down the side of his face, which is bruised and starting to swell.

Hibari looks peeved when he sees me. "Get out," is all he says.

Suya-san puts his hand on my shoulder, guiding me out with only a silent shake of his head. I'm quick to comply. It's not like I wanted to stay there anyway. But I can't help but wonder just what it is that he's so annoyed about, and why that guy was bleeding...

Was he another victim of the gang activity? If so, then I'm assuming that he's either one of the luckier victims (from the gruesome tales I've heard from eavesdropping on some other student's conversations), or that the violence is only going to get worse from here on in.

I frown, looking back up at the school. I sigh, then join the steady flow of students streaming through the gates, heading home.

Hibari, you idiot...what'd you do to the Kokuyo kids this time?

I toss my shoes in the genkan before stepping into a pair of red house slippers that (embarrassingly) have my name embroidered onto them. Have I been integrated into their lives so easily?

"Ara? Fuuta-kun, is that you?" Nana-san calls. "Oh! Welcome home Kariya-chan!" she greets as she sees me. I'm a bit taken aback at her words, and I opt to just duck my head in response. Her voice draws me into the kitchen, somewhat against my will.

"What happened to Fuuta?" I ask.

"Oh..." she says, donning a worried look that only mother's have. "Fuuta-kun hasn't come back since this morning when he went out to play with Lambo-kun and I-Pin-chan."

I glance out the back door to see the two younger children playing in the backyard. "So Fuuta's missing?"

"I don't know...Tsu-kun and Reborn-kun went to go look for him and they haven't come back either."

Well, Fuuta's a mafia kid. He can take care of himself. But I can't tell her that, for obvious reasons. So I just settle for, "He'll be okay. Fuuta's a smart kid. He can take care of himself."

"You're right. I should have faith in him and Tsu-kun and Reborn-kun." Then she swiftly changes the subject. "How did you like the bento?" she asks.

"Ne?" I'm caught off guard at the sudden change of topic as well as the offhand question.

"Tsuna wouldn't tell me what you thought of it, so I just assumed that you didn't like it..." her voice trails off as her face falls ever so slightly.

"Um..." I decide to be truthful. "Well, the vegetables were gone really fast."

She laughs lightly. "I know that you don't like vegetables, but you still have to eat them, you know."

I nod. I didn't eat any of it...so technically, I'm even on all those counts, ne?

"What about the octopus wieners? I know that you like them."

Now, those, I'd been kind of sad to see go. But it was a necessary sacrifice. "You're absolutely right, I love them! Thank you, Nana-san!" I force out through a painfully fake smile.

Thankfully, I'm saved by the doorbell.

Nana-san excuses herself to answer the door. Then, I regret being thankful at the sound of the doorbell.

"Kariya-chan!" Haru bursts into the room, quickly followed by Kyoko.

I groan internally, already halfway up the stairs. I'm not in the mood to talk with anyone. I just want to be alone to mull over Shamal's words, and the beaten Disciplinary Committee member and let my anger fester.

I close my door behind me, hoping that that will be enough of a (feeble attempt at a) message for them to leave me alone.

But, apparently not, as they walk up with their schoolbags and a tray of food that Nana-san no doubt gave them.

"How are you, Kariya-chan?" Haru begins.

"Good..." I reply, spinning slowly in my spinney chair.

"Well, we brought some of our homework to do, would you like to join us?" Haru pulls out a math textbook.

I grimace and change the subject quickly. "How was the rehearsal today?"

"Oh. Thank you for the bento this morning, Kariya-chan! You really saved me! We were practising all through lunch, and I would've starved if not for you!" She places her textbook back in her bag, which I sigh internally at, and gives me a quick hug, which I simply stiffen at. She doesn't take it to heart, and deftly releases me.

"In drama class we were learning how to mimic someone else. And there's this girl who looks almost like you, Kariya-chan! I was partnered up with her. And see, if I take my hair out of my ponytail…like…this," she pats her hair down, smiling at me, "and then if I pull this on," she puts my hoodie on hurriedly, "I look a lot like you, don't I?"

"You do!" Kyoko agrees. "Here, let me try, too!" She pulls on another one of my sweaters.

I look in the mirror, and am shocked to see that they actually do look a bit like me. To someone who didn't know any better, or wasn't looking particularly closely, they might actually confuse Kyoko or Haru for me.

"Don't do that," I snap.

"Hahi! Why not, Kariya-chan?"

"What's wrong?"

"Um. Eh. I..." I fumble for words, smacking myself mentally for my brazen reaction. I manage an awkward laugh. "Ne...Well, I like being...unique... (?)"

They blink, unsure of my response, but they take it in stride. Either they're saints, or they're the biggest idiots that I've ever met—and I've met some pretty slow kids.

"Oh, well, Kariya-chan is unique!"

"Yeah! You're right! We're all unique, so we should just dress like ourselves, right?"

I rummage through the plastic bag full of goodies until I find the make-up set. I toss it onto the dresser, and Haru and Kyoko gasp. They admire the casing and the thing in its 'new' glow. "It's all yours," I invite them, gesturing for them to...dig in.

They attack the packaging with much enthusiasm, leaving me to wonder whether they really were admiring the thing, or were they examining it before the kill? Or rather, were they already mentally taking it apart?

Haru picks up my cell phone from the table as Kyoko discards the plastic packaging. Haru slides the phone open, before giggling.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"N-Nothing! I'm sorry! I shouldn't have laughed. That was rude of me."

"No, it's okay, you can tell me," I prompt. No, it's not okay. You've gotten me hooked—now I need to know why you were laughing.

"Your wallpaper is really cute—Tsuna-san, Yamamoto-san, and Gokudera-san!" Haru answers. But I know that as believable as that was, it was a cover-up. I raise an eyebrow. "Alright, I'm sorry, Kariya-chan...It's just that I saw that Yamamoto-san is your only contact."

Oh. Was that all? I shrug. "It's no big deal. I don't use that phone anyway; so it makes sense for me not to have a million contacts."

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant. Kyoko-chan told me that—"

"Haru-chan!" Kyoko cuts her off quickly with a giggle of her own.

For some reason, there is no need to know what they're talking about this time—subliminal messages (I don't want to know, for reasons unbeknownst to me).

Haru smiles, adding her number onto my contact list as well, then leaves the phone on the dresser.

The two girls turn their attentions onto the box of make-up, and I slink over to the bed, plopping down onto it and booting up my laptop, hoping to read some more manga to keep myself occupied—I have no idea how to talk to these girls, or what to say to them. So, in these situations, I should retreat.

Suddenly, the cell phone on the dresser vibrates, buzzing in a small arc until it reaches the edge and falls off, bouncing twice before landing upside-down in the carpet.

I bend down to pick it up.

"Who's it from?" Haru asks, applying some sort of mascara.

"Um..."

"Haru-chan, we shouldn't pry..."

"Oh! I'm sorry, Kariya-chan!"

"No, no. It's fine. The text is from..." My eyes dart around the small screen, trying to discern the characters. I find the term 'sender', and set to work in deducing who the person is.

My mind first translates the kanji into English. There's the character for 'Mountain', followed by 'Down'. Both are simple kanji that I'm sure even foreigners (like me...kind of) can easily learn to recognize.

Then my mind converts the words into romaji—so 'Mountain' becomes 'Yama', and 'Down' (in this particular term meaning 'the bottom of') becomes 'moto'.

I grin triumphantly, raising the cell phone high. "It's Yamamoto!" I cheer.

The two girls turn to me, blinking, then begin to giggle.

I stare at them, blinking back before I realize my mistake. I wave my hands. "No, no! I didn't mean it like that! I mean...yeah! Just not the way that you guys think!"

But whatever I say obviously does not convince them. But they stop their (blatant) teasing after a while, opting to leave me alone to decipher the cryptic code hidden with the bane of my existence (also known as the Japanese language) while they apply funky shades of eye shadow.

After staring at the screen for so long that I'm sure that a layer has been burnt off of my eyeballs, I admit to myself that I just can't read it. I'm not dyslexic, no. But the little loops and curls begin to look pretty damn similar after a while.

But I'm not about to ask for help. I mean, it's these girls. I'll be laughed at for the rest of my life—not because I can't read it, but because of the questionable contents of this text. I mean, it's Yamamoto. Who knows what he texts people—especially me—about?

Meh. I'll do this myself then! On to Google translate!

Long after the girls have left, I find myself disappointed with Google Translate and the internet in general. Gone are the days in which I thought Google was the answer to everything—that it was possible to find anything and everything on the blessed search engine that we mere mortals had been graced with.

"What are you doing?" Tsuna asks.

"Cracking a code. Like a message in a bottle."

"Kariya-san..."

"Didn't I tell you this already? Drop the '-san'. It makes me feel old. I hate honorifics."

"Umm, alright, K-Kariya. You said that the only problem that you have with Japanese is reading and writing, right? But you understand it if it's spoken...so, this might help." Tsuna puts a piece of paper down in front of me.

"It's a chart of hiragana. On the flip side is katakana. It doesn't help much for kanji...so unless hiragana is also given, there's nothing much you can do about that."

I study it. Each character (read: squiggle) is accompanied by a Romanized pronunciation guide. It's completely handwritten, but not in the topsy-turvy, falling-over-at-any-moment chicken scratch of Tsuna's, nor is it the angular, slanting this way, then that way, sometimes big-and sometimes-squished-into-a-line script of Yamamoto's. It's in the rounded, full, neat characters of Gokudera's impeccable handwriting.

It was probably made for Tsuna's use anyway. But it looks brand-new—without any smudges or coffee stains (from Reborn), nor any folds or bends of any kind.

Whatever it is, or its initial purpose, it is now in my possession and I intend to capitalize fully on this rare opportunity where a solution is handed down to me. Easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy style.

Luckily for me, I spot no other kanji in the short message other than Yamamoto's name. It takes me a while, but I connect each character to a romaji segment. Then I read it aloud to myself.

"Yamamoto Takeshi: Yo, Kari-chan! Stay indoors today, alright? There've been some more attacks on Nami Chuu students—we found one guy after practice today. It was...pretty brutal. So make sure the kids are inside and that Tsuna's okay. If you see Gokudera, tell him that too. Be careful."

My fingers grip the phone tightly. Lambo and I-Pin have already been tucked in. Tsuna's home and he's in his pyjamas—so he's not headed out anytime soon. Nana-san's taking a bath, and she seems pretty worn out. But Fuuta...Fuuta's still missing... I know that Reborn's covered for him, mentioning something offhand to Nana-san, but still, I'm...worried about that kid.

I grab my cell phone, scrolling through it. No, I don't have Gokudera's number.

After ascertaining the fact, I head into Bianchi's room. She's reading some romance novel when I enter unannounced. "Um, Bianchi?"

"Yes, Stella? What's wrong?"

"Can you, um...You know the attacks on Nami Chuu students that we've been hearing about lately?"

She nods solemnly, her brow furrowing slightly in the same way that her younger brother's does.

"Well," I continue, "there have been a lot more today...So can you...can you make sure Gokudera's okay too? I don't have his number, or I'd call him myself." Not text...

"Alright. You should make sure to get some rest, Stella. Get some sleep and don't worry too much about everyone."

"I'm not worried!"

"They are stronger than you give them credit for, Stella. Goodnight."

I close the door behind me. I should call Kyoko to make sure that she's alright, and tell her to try and stay indoors, other than going to school, or if she really has to. And what about Hana? I don't really like Hana, and I'm sure that she doesn't really like me. But seeing her get hurt doesn't really benefit me...but then again, she does come off as a sensible girl. She'll be alright. And Kyoko can make sure that Hana's okay.

I put my cell phone in my pocket, opting to use the phone in the hallway, finding Kyoko's home phone number from a neat list beside the device. But no one at Kyoko's house picks up. I look at the clock—11: 17 p.m. They might be asleep already. Oh well. She has an older brother to look out for her. She's a pretty sheltered and loved girl, so she should be okay.

Yamamoto had said that it was Nami Chuu students that are being targeted, but I should call Haru too, to make sure that she got home safely.

There's a lonely sound as the phone rings, and I wait for someone to pick up, scuffing my slippers on the hardwood floor, biting my lip in anxiety.

I breathe a sigh when a voice on the other end greets me. "Hello?"

"Um, hi. This is, um, Kariya from uh, the," I swallow before managing a quick, "Sawadaresidence."

"I'm sorry? Oh. Oh. This is Haru's father. I was just about to call to make sure that she's alright."

My blood runs cold. "What?"

His reply is delayed a few seconds, as he's probably reached the same conclusion as me from our hesitancy. "Haru hasn't come home yet."

I drop the phone.

'I look a lot like you, don't I?' Haru's words echo in my mind, and I shiver. I fumble for the device, holding it to my face to say, "Hold on, I'll be right over."

"Uh, what? Wait a moment! It's not safe at this time of night! I'll—"

"Your address is still the same right?"

"Yes, but, wait!"

"Then it should be the one that Haru gave me. I'll go and find her. I'll bring her home." After all, if something's happened to her, it's my fault.

I hang up on him, placing the phone down a bit forcefully. I run upstairs, footsteps thundering, and snatch my jacket off of the floor of my room.

I run back down the stairs, skipping the last step, and charge into the genkan. I locate my shoes in a rush.

"Kariya-chan?" Nana-san's voice calls tentatively. "Kariya-chan!"

I pull my shoes on, and open the door roughly.

"Hunh?" At this point, Tsuna's also been alerted by the yelling. "Kariya-san! Where are you going?"

I pull the door shut behind me, ignoring them in the wake of my rising fear. If anything's happened to Haru, it's all my fault...

The street is silent save for the murmur of late-night television and the occasional cricket that hasn't yet been killed off by the cold.

The neighbour's Chihuahua growls at me when I pass it but I don't stop to tease it, nor do I stop at the crosswalk to check both ways before trotting across it.

The shopping district is dark now, the shops closed, and the only lights are from the downtown region. But my immediate surroundings make the place feel like a ghost town. If I close my eyes, I can almost feel presences pressing against me.

I shudder and speed up, looking up to the starless night, cloaked by heavy clouds. I turn my eyes back down to the earth, scanning the horizon for any sign of Haru.

Where could she possibly be? My eyes dart around the dark street, struggling to stay open. I swallow a yawn and push on, running into the park. I circle the playground, then dash through the open field, swing set creaking ominously behind me.

I feel my hackles rise, and I shiver, biting my lip and pushing on.

I check the convenient store by the bridge. My footsteps sound hollow as they pound over the thick metal, accompanied by the quiet gurgle of water rushing along below it. The streetlights are just turning on—no...they're flashing. It's like they're warning me—telling me to turn back.

"Hey! Yo! Finally!"

I leap three feet into the air, screaming.

"Is this what you've been waiting for? Brand new G-D!"

Dammit! I slap my hand over my mouth as my phone rings in my pocket, and dive into a low hedge on the side of the road. I wince and whimper as one of the stocky boughs cuts the back of my neck, one sticks into my ear, and the rest poke and prod at me painfully.

"I'm all by myself, but it's all good!"

I fumble for the phone, but all I manage to do is cause another stem to stab into my side. I wriggle, shifting into a better position, pulling my phone out of my pocket and part the branches of the bushes, peering around the area, heart pounding in my throat.

"You're my heartbreaker~"

Silencing the obnoxious K-Pop—who the fuck set this as my ringtone?—I answer the call. "Hello?" I whisper, still keeping a lookout.

"Hello? Kariya-chan?" a feminine voice greets me.

Shocked, I pull the phone away from my ear to look at the name. There's the kanji symbol for 'Three', another kanji, then two Hiragana characters that I recognize: 'Ha' and 'Lu'. Ha. Lu. Halu. Haru.

"Haru!" I gasp, pulling the phone back to my face. "Haru! Are you okay?"

Why didn't I just call her cell phone earlier? Stupid!

"Of course I'm okay!" she replies. "Where are you right now? Are you alright? You sound like you've been running."

"No," is my automatic answer. "I'm fine."

"Well, I'm just calling you to say thanks. My Dad was really worried. I'm at Kyoko's house for a sleepover right now, and I guess I kind of forgot to call him to let him know. He just called Kyoko's house a few minutes ago. I didn't have my cell phone on, so he couldn't reach me like that either."

So, I couldn't have reached her even if I had remembered to call her cell... and that probably would've made me even more anxious, anyway.

"Well, as long as you're okay and not in too much trouble, then I guess that it's all good, ne?" I breathe a heavy sigh.

"Yeah. I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble, Kariya-chan!" She apologizes profusely, and continues to do so long after I lose my patience, almost reminding me of Gokudera.

"It's. ALRIGHT," I say for what seems the umpteenth time. There's a loud sound behind me, and I spin around, glancing around wildly. It sounded like a cross between a crash and a wild cry.

There are sounds of running feet—and they're fast approaching.

"Haru," I cut her off hallways through her tangent on cakes and making it up to me with them, "I've gotta' go."

"Oh, alright. See—"

Beep.

I hang up on her, slipping the phone in my pocket.

Something's out there. Something's here.

I bolt, unable to take the pressing feeling of killing intent. I see a flash of what seems like glare off a pair of glasses, but I'm not stupid enough to stop and take a closer look.

It doesn't matter at this point. I just want out of here.

So, I turn tail and do what I'm best at.

Under the cover of the black clouds, beneath the heavy tension of the atmosphere, being pursued by enemies that may or may not exist in the darkness of the September night, I run.

"Run, Riri. Run, and keep running. Don't stop. Don't look back. Do you hear me? Just keep running!"

There is no rush of excitement accompanying this sprint through the backstreets and past blaring car horns. There is only fear.

Somewhere along the way, I feel my pursuers peel off and dissipate in the night, but the fear doesn't let up, and I keep running.

I run over the bridge, past the bright lights of the convenience stores, the soft glow of the streetlights, over cracking pavement, through sparse traffic whizzing past in a blur of headlights, hot air and angry curses.

I run and run and run; back to the only place that I know as safe.

I run back home.

I run back home into the waiting arms of Nana-san, who's dressed in her nightgown and house slippers with a worried expression on her face. She smoothes my hair down in a soothing manner, the tension leaving her slight shoulders while laughing lightly. "We were all so worried when you suddenly ran from the house. Don't scare us like that, Kariya-chan... Let's go inside, shall we?"

I rub my eyes, and, not meeting Nana-san's eyes, I nod.

I'm home...

A/N:

Heya everybody! I hope school's been treating you (relatively) well, unlike little Kariya here. I may enjoy throwing crap her way a little too much. But it's just so much fun irking her~

For those people who didn't know, balancing chemical equations is a chemistry thing (no duh), that mostly uses math, as well as the chemical short forms—like the ones on the Periodic Table of the Elements. The table is used universally, so no matter what language you speak, the abbreviations are always the same—that's why Kariya was able to do that part on the test.

And yes, Kariya's ringtone is 'Heartbreaker' by G-Dragon. It gets really annoying after a while.

If you're ever being followed in the dark—or in any situation like Kariya's near the end—then keep your cell phone on, and keep talking to the person on the other end. Make sure to let them know what's going on your end. This is because the stalker is less likely to try something if they know that you're talking to someone. Furthermore, if they do act, then you can call for help immediately.

Fuuuuuu... Enough with dark stuff.

Actually, I lied. The next few chapters may be a bit dark. Your mileage may vary though. But rest assured, in the darkest night, there's still light, though it may be hard to see.

Damn, that was so corny. X)