MiraRei
Junior Member
It was the start of a new school year. The sky was a clear, bright blue as clouds lazily floated by. The last of summer's heat hung in the air of the school's courtyard, where a multitude of teenagers gathered to mingle with their friends. Freshmen whispered excitedly among themselves about the joys of high school while seniors prepared themselves for their last year of familiarity and comfort. The grass beneath their feet was bright green, and short trees grew along the sidewalk that led to the doors of the building. The name of the school was spelled out in bold black letters above the main entrance, and the symbol of the school was plastered on each door and window. The buzz of the new school year had everyone on edge, mostly for the better.
Among the sea of multicolored backpacks, a single black backpack sat apart from the rest. It sat, empty and dejected, held together with duct tape and marred from years of use and abuse. Its owner was a teenage boy, about 16 years old. A mop of blonde hair sat on his head, hanging into his dark brown eyes. The teen wore a black t-shirt with a red logo of a rock band on the front, a pair of baggy, beaten up gray cargo pants, and a pair of black tennis shoes. The chain of a necklace hung around his neck, though it disappeared underneath his shirt, and he wore a black leather band around his wrist. The teen kept his eyes down, not meeting the eyes of anyone that walked past him, and his hands in his pockets as he waited for the bell to ring to let them all in.
"Hey, new kid!" A group of three teens, all in their mid to upper teens, approached the loner. One of the teens was a short guy, maybe 1.5 meters tall, dressed in a plain green shirt under a grey hoodie, a pair of green pants, and a pair of dirty black and white tennis shoes. He wore a blue beanie that hid his eyes, and the tips of his long black hair were dyed blue. The second teen was a tall, lanky guy with glasses, smooth brown hair, freckles, and a set of braces. He wore a red t-shirt, khaki shorts, and a pair of white tennis shoes. The third guy, the one who called out, was a little taller than the first guy. He wore a black tank top that showed off the muscles in his arms, a pair of black sweat pants, and a pair of black running shoes. The guy had spiked up red hair and dark brown, fiery eyes that seemed to be itching for a fight. He seemed to be the leader of the group, and looked the new kid up and down. "Haven't seen your face around here... Whatcha doing over here by your lonesome? Think you're too cool for school or somethin?"
The blonde guy lifted his gaze to study the group, then lowered it again. He didn't say a word, but he didn't seem scared or even annoyed. He really hoped these guys would just move on...
"Hey, I'm talkin' to you! What's the matter, you deaf or somethin?" The red head grabbed the blonde guy by the t-shirt and brought him up to his face. This guy's eyes... they looked empty. And for some reason, that pissed the red head off. "You seem to be new here, so let me give you a quick lesson... Here at big boy school, we treat each other with respect..." He tightened his grip on the blonde's shirt. "That means you do what I say, or I get rough, got it?" The red head's lackeys snickered as they imagined how scared the new guy must've been, and shot glares at any students who looked their way. Their group had a smaller reputation than they believed they did, but they made it clear that getting involved with them meant trouble.
The new kid kept his gaze down until it was forced up, and at that moment he just stared into the eyes of his new bully. That fire... he'd seen it somewhere before... And for some reason, he really couldn't bring himself to care much past that.
Among the sea of multicolored backpacks, a single black backpack sat apart from the rest. It sat, empty and dejected, held together with duct tape and marred from years of use and abuse. Its owner was a teenage boy, about 16 years old. A mop of blonde hair sat on his head, hanging into his dark brown eyes. The teen wore a black t-shirt with a red logo of a rock band on the front, a pair of baggy, beaten up gray cargo pants, and a pair of black tennis shoes. The chain of a necklace hung around his neck, though it disappeared underneath his shirt, and he wore a black leather band around his wrist. The teen kept his eyes down, not meeting the eyes of anyone that walked past him, and his hands in his pockets as he waited for the bell to ring to let them all in.
"Hey, new kid!" A group of three teens, all in their mid to upper teens, approached the loner. One of the teens was a short guy, maybe 1.5 meters tall, dressed in a plain green shirt under a grey hoodie, a pair of green pants, and a pair of dirty black and white tennis shoes. He wore a blue beanie that hid his eyes, and the tips of his long black hair were dyed blue. The second teen was a tall, lanky guy with glasses, smooth brown hair, freckles, and a set of braces. He wore a red t-shirt, khaki shorts, and a pair of white tennis shoes. The third guy, the one who called out, was a little taller than the first guy. He wore a black tank top that showed off the muscles in his arms, a pair of black sweat pants, and a pair of black running shoes. The guy had spiked up red hair and dark brown, fiery eyes that seemed to be itching for a fight. He seemed to be the leader of the group, and looked the new kid up and down. "Haven't seen your face around here... Whatcha doing over here by your lonesome? Think you're too cool for school or somethin?"
The blonde guy lifted his gaze to study the group, then lowered it again. He didn't say a word, but he didn't seem scared or even annoyed. He really hoped these guys would just move on...
"Hey, I'm talkin' to you! What's the matter, you deaf or somethin?" The red head grabbed the blonde guy by the t-shirt and brought him up to his face. This guy's eyes... they looked empty. And for some reason, that pissed the red head off. "You seem to be new here, so let me give you a quick lesson... Here at big boy school, we treat each other with respect..." He tightened his grip on the blonde's shirt. "That means you do what I say, or I get rough, got it?" The red head's lackeys snickered as they imagined how scared the new guy must've been, and shot glares at any students who looked their way. Their group had a smaller reputation than they believed they did, but they made it clear that getting involved with them meant trouble.
The new kid kept his gaze down until it was forced up, and at that moment he just stared into the eyes of his new bully. That fire... he'd seen it somewhere before... And for some reason, he really couldn't bring himself to care much past that.