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Third Year

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Karma P.O.V

So the first week of hosting went by without much fanfare. Things were pretty normal; classes passed without much incident and things were pretty routine. There wasn’t much of note really–

 

(Well there was this one incident at the restaurant with a customer who decided to be the dumbest person on earth. First they threw a fit over the fact that they ordered ice on the bottom of their drink and they didn’t understand that since ice was less dense than water it fucking floats, then they got pissed when they saw the menu and insisted that they wanted things not on the menu. After demanding to speak to the manager, they got me – and mind you I was blatantly balancing two trays on my arm and wearing a small pocketed apron over my business casual outfit and my name tag proudly displaying the title of manager. I’m sure they were expecting someone legit but since we trade around the name tag every hour, they were stuck with me for now.)

(So of course, I show no mercy and make that fat little spoiled brat cry. When you’re fourteen and you’re whining about what colour your cup is, you need to re-evaluate your priorities. You could tell that the kid was just trying to be difficult.)

 

–it was just a normal school week which was kind of a novelty, to be honest. Not going to lie, that was nice. All the same, I’m a paranoid piece of shit and I was constantly waiting for the other metaphorical shoe to drop. When it didn’t fall within that week, I decided to take matters into my own hand and create my own shit because boredom doesn’t appeal to my sociopathic tendencies.

I mean, it wasn’t like I was just starting my own shit because I could. I was getting back at a homophobic asshole. He was honestly asking for it. He shouldn’t have challenged me without knowing what he’d be up against. He was a fool to assume that he could get away with trying to humiliate me! Now because this school was a bit (oof understatement of the year) prissier than the last one so I couldn’t outright smack this kid – because he was a fucking child; I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of being deemed a worthy opponent – but while that was one of my strong points, I always did enjoy a good verbal smack down.

This wasn’t just me dicking with strangers anymore, I now had people that had my back and would do things for me if I just asked it of them. Of course my pride didn’t want me to ask for help so I was still mainly doing it by myself, but the point was that I could have used them and then he would have been even worse than screwed over. As it was, using Ritsu alone was kind of overpowered. Still, this guy really pissed me off.

So yeah, here I was, planning my revenge on the guy who tried to embarrass me in art class. Sen fucking Akihiko. That bitch.

Throughout the week, Ritsu had been doing some online digging to try and find everything possible on this guy. If it was online or on any piece of technology, then Ritsu would find it. In the past couple of days I had done some subtle digging in the files that I had to see if I could find anything that we kept on paper about his family, but I had no doubts that Ritsu would be the one to find the thing that I would use.

I didn’t know what I was going to do yet, but I was going to ruin this asshole’s life.

Because I’m an unstable teenager asshole and I believe in mistakes following you for the rest of your life.

 

Mine do.

 

So yeah, digging through papers didn’t really bring me all that much information that I could use to destroy this guy. I found some little bits of information about the Sen family being connected to a branch of the Yakuza, but that wasn’t exactly incriminating or even embarrassing. It wasn’t all that unusual for the students of Ouran Academy to have some shadier connections. They were rich brats who were heirs to giant fortunes, of course some of them had ties to Japan’s underground. Come to think of it, I think the heir to the Trickster’s biggest rival goes here…

That might be worth looking into later…

Moving on; basically, having a connection to the Yakuza wasn’t a big deal. If anything, that would make the students think he was cooler and the smarter ones would try to stay out of his way. There was a reason that Kyoya inspired so much fear and respect amongst the older students despite being the third son. He was amongst some of the best and brightest, so his intellect only inspired so much respect and some of that was canceled out due to being the third son. There were rumours still going around about Kyoya’s involvement with the shadier sides of business due to how successful and aloof he was, and it wasn’t like Kyoya did anything to dissuade those ideas.

But I couldn’t let people in on the fact that I had those connections because I like to make life harder for myself. This was supposed to be my normal year dammit. It was like a grieving period or some shit. Fucking whatever.

I have to fuck with Akihiko without letting on that I’m a fucking gang delinquent, so my normal kind of intimidation wasn’t going to work and people already didn’t respect me because I’m both the new kid and gay. Whatever I find to use is going to have to be very good and gang related shit just wasn’t going to cut it.

So that left Ritsu. She had been sending me a steady stream of emails for the past few hours and I had been putting them off because I was writing an English essay, but this couldn’t be avoided any longer. Time frames were messy, and I needed to know if this was going to have to be a long-term plan or if I could just get this over with in one go. Things were complicated like that. I would prefer to just sort of expose the guy and then move on, but my life usually wasn’t that simple, so I had to actually plan ahead.

I miss the days when things just sort of fell in my lap and chaos ran rampant. Now chaos was basically nonexistent, and I had to be the one to create it. That was more effort than I was comfortable with making to be honest. Kyoya promised entertainment. Well he actually promised that I wouldn’t have issues here but look where that got me.

And now I had 15 emails from Ritsu. Goddammit.

Okay, so opening the first couple emails revealed that this guy’s life was relatively boring and that he didn’t do all that much. He was the only child in a traditionalist family and the heir to some unimportant tech company. They were well off, but they weren’t making extravagant amounts of money but it was enough for them to afford to send their kid here and live comfortably. I wasn’t the type of person to make fun of someone because of their money so that was out. And it wasn’t like he was poor either – not like Haruhi. So that was pretty much out then.

In fact, there really wasn’t much about Sen Akihiko that was any kind of remarkable in the first couple of emails and I was starting to give up hope. I was beginning to think that I’d have to actually make up something for this asshole. That’s when I came across one email that didn’t look all that much like any of the other emails. At first I thought that this couldn’t possibly be true, but Ritsu had managed to build a case against Akihiko, and that’s when I lost every bit of possible pity for this guy.

You know, I might have been out to humiliate him in retaliation, but I hadn’t been planning on running him out of the school. Really, it was just a bit of vindictive revenge. I’m a cold blooded murderer on the best of days, but even people like me have things that we frown upon.

Rapists and child murderers were the things that I absolutely deem irredeemable. My main job for a while was to kill for money. I killed and didn’t ask questions. Of course I did my research and I turned down jobs that I didn’t believe in, but for the most part, there was always a purpose to the murder that I committed. I didn’t really bother thinking about the families of those I murdered – because some people just needed to be taken out.

 

(The whole idea that if you murder a murderer then you’re no better was just false. Sure there was a vigilante serial killer type, but the law was corrupt and everything just sucked. Sometimes people slipped through the cracks and innocence was subjective.)

 

Akihiko was a homophobic dick – there was no denying it. I just hadn’t known that when he was 13 years old, he and two of his friends kidnapped an 8 year old girl from a train station and brutally raped her before murdering her and hiding her body in the bushes. Due to a lack of evidence and suspects, the case had remained unsolved – but like I said, I was a murderer; I knew what to look for, and Ritsu was made to assassinate and she helped cover my scenes so she knew what she would cover. Through this, she had managed to find the bits of police had overlooked.

And with that, she’d solved the case and provided more than enough evidence to prove that it was Sen Akihiko behind everything. The other culprits weren’t in this email but looking at the subject line of the other 5 emails, I would have that evidence soon. Fuck.

How was I going to explain how I found this?

 


 

Consider what I’d just discovered the night before, getting to school a week and a half after I started hosting wasn’t meant to be anything special. It was halfway through the week and everything should have been normal, but of course that was when thing began to happen. Because I am a main character, and who needs a fucking break. Let’s just forget the fucking bombshell that Ritsu had gifted me with (I still had no idea how I was going to handle that information or whether this would be time sensitive or not), it’s not like that was important or anything.

Nope, couldn’t even catch a break. Not on a Wednesday. It was hump day.

 

I walk into the school expecting to see the usual pristine hallways and lockers. I head to mine and move to open it like usual, expecting to grab my binders and be on my merry way. As you can probably guess, that is not what I happened.

After walking a mere 5 feet down the hallway (and with the size of the school and its individual hallways, that’s saying a lot) I could tell that something was wrong. Maybe it was the way that everyone was staring at me, maybe it was the eerie silence that hung over the entire holiday, or maybe it was the bright pink words spray painted all over my damn locker.

 

Fag.

Fairy.

Homo.

Go die.

 

All painstakingly spray painted across the formerly pristine metal of my assigned locker. I say painstakingly because someone went to a lot of effort to make sure that not even a little bit of spray made it onto the neighbouring lockers. Nope, they chose to specifically graffiti those lovely messages accompanied by crude pictures of dicks drawn in sharpie on my locker.

I knew that me being gay didn’t sit right with a lot of people, but I didn’t think that these rich brats would resort to this. Trying to convince Suoh Senior to kick me out of the school, sure, but not something as low and barbaric as fucking graffitied messages. That just seemed… low.

But if it was Akihiko, then why am I surprised? Nothing is below that bastard. He’d hit rock bottom a long time ago. If it wasn’t then I was going to have more problems than just figuring out how to deal with Akihiko. Fuck, when did things get so complicated?

I stood in front of my locker for a moment and just sort of absorbed the fact that someone had taken the time out of their day to do this. Like, it’s one thing to hate someone, but it’s another thing to hate someone enough that you go out of your way to spray paint someone’s locker in a high security prep school. Like that takes effort.

 

(I am of course that level of petty, but I like to give others the benefit of the doubt.)

 

Without even bothering to open my locker, I spin around and head to my class. I have other notebooks and I can survive one day without a binder. You know what? Fuck it. I can afford to skip a day of school. I pointedly stared straight ahead as I strode through the hallways with long purposeful steps. I wanted out of this damn building, now.

I can’t fucking believe this.

 


 

With the rest of my day now open, I make a few calls.

 


 

“Hey, Akabane-chan!” Hikaru yelled excitedly as I walked into the school building on Friday morning. “Tamaki was very put out by your absence and Kyoya didn’t even know why you were gone. So, what were you doing?” He continued excitedly, bouncing to a stop in front of me as his twin brother and Haruhi trailed after him.

My mouth was kind of permanently stuck in a scowl for the day, and I wasn’t exactly about to stop glaring, so as the trio approached they quickly jumped back a little at the absolutely poisonous aura emanated from me. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I had some things to take care of. A friend needed some help with looking at evidence and my expertise was needed.” I say a little stiffly. “You might want to stick around for a little bit.” I continue, peering over their shoulders to look over at the doors of the foyer.

As usual, people had congregated around the walls and open areas of the front foyer and were chatting before class. There was a decent amount of traffic on the stair case too, but the volume of students didn’t stop me from being able to see everyone in the room. And because sometimes, sometimes, things worked out for me, Sen Akihiko and his pose were gathered right in front of the stair case and not even 10 feet from where I stood. I practically had front row seats for the show that was about to go down.

 

Before either of the Hitachin twins had the chance to respond, the doors opened and in walked in 5 police officers covered in body armour. Everyone fell silent in that way that teenagers do when confronted with an uncomfortable situation involving authority figures. All eyes were on the calm and imposing police officers as they walked deeper into the foyer, their thick boots stomping on the polished floor. They came to a stop right in front of Sen Akihiko and his group.

“Sen Akihiko,” The burly police officer leading the pack said seriously glaring down at the arrogant teenager. “You are under the arrest for the murder of Shibi Yuna. You have the right to–” he began to give his speech as the other officers moved to cuff Sen’s hands behind his back but the teen interrupted him before he could continue his memorized spiel.

“What? You’re accusing me of murder? Where did you get this proof, huh?” Sen demanded, glaring down the police officer and shaking off the others. He had puffed up his skinny little chest and was trying to make himself look bigger. Based on the look on the leader’s face, he wasn’t impressed by the teen’s insolence anymore than I was.

The officer proceeded to puff up himself and loomed over the teen. “I’ve been the lead investigator on this case for the past 4 years and just recently, a third party has come forwards with a new analysis on the evidence that we had collected. For their protection, names will not be stated.” Then he nodded at the other police officers to continue with the arrest.

One of the other officers sneered down at the teenager as he roughly grabbed his arm. “We’ve been hunting you for years, scum.” He hisses quietly, no doubt only audible to the group of teens that surrounded Akihiko nervously. They were all glancing at each other as if unsure as to what they should be doing right now. The remaining two officers herded them away from Sen and the direct area of the scene. Unfortunately, Sen was making everything much harder than he had to be, and he proceeded to try and put up more of a fight.

“Tell me who it is,” he growled angrily, struggling weakly in the grasp of two police officers. His damn near feral eyes scanned over the crowd of stunned students until he came to rest on me. I wasn’t even bothering to hide the fact that I was smug as fuck, and I’m sure my eyes had begun to gleam in that dark way they did when I really hated something. As soon as his gaze met mine his struggles doubled and he immediately made the correct assumption. Well, pretty close to correct. “You!” He shrieked, “you framed me! I’m going to kill you.”

The police all exchanged faces before they began to lead a still struggling Akihiko towards the door. One of the officers began to prattle off the rest of the pre-written and memorized speech as they dragged him towards the entrance of the building. I took this time to be a bastard.

 

“I can’t believe people like him were allowed to attend this school!” I say loudly to the Hitachin twins. My voice carried across the large room and everyone heard. Especially Akihiko, which was my goal. I couldn’t help but be a little smug as I parroted his own words back in his earshot. “I pay good money to go to this school and now they’re letting rapists and murderers attend?! I feel threatened.”

I had timed this phrase absolutely perfectly, and of course the police were escorting Akihiko past me just as I finished my sentence, making him in the perfect spot to hear every word that I said. As expected he reacted violently and despite having his hands cuffed behind him, he lunged for me. He didn’t necessarily know that I was very good at fighting, but did he really think that he’d be able to do much while his arms were unavailable? Really.

For once, the police actually did their jobs and grabbed Sen before he could get more than 2 ft away from them, but he was hissing and spitting the entire time. He was so angry that he was practically frothing at the mouth as he struggled to get out of the police’s grip. “Whatever you have on me is a lie! I’ll get you for this Akabane! You’ll hear from my fucking lawyers!” He yelled as one of the police officers shot me an apologetic look as they left the building.

A silence fell over the front foyer as everyone sort of just absorbed the fact that they just witnessed an arrest of a fellow student. For murder.

“Nothing to see here!” I call with false cheer, plastering on a grin on my face although there was a no doubt a dark glint in my eyes. Everyone stared at me with small hints of fear, and I know that the smarter ones had made the connection between my reaction and Akihiko’s words. They knew that I had done something, and it was up to them to speculate how much of that evidence I falsified. I bared my teeth in a grin so wide that it could be mistaken for a snarl.

“Move along, folks. The show’s over.”