“I refuse.” Cur said adamantly, staring at the man before him.

“If you don’t talk, your friend will be put in an even worse position.”

“...”

The man sighed, “I’m not asking you to confess his crimes. I just want to know how he acted in his daily life, nothing serious.”

“That has nothing to do with you.” Cur snapped back.

“According to this folder, you’re wrong. At the end of this talk I need to write something down. Don’t you want to be sure it’s the truth? A few words from me can make or break his fate, if you truly think you're his friend, you should tell me what I need to know.”

[p=center]•••[/p]

“What happened to your face? You fail again?”

Cur rubbed the red mark, “Actually, no… strangely enough, she gave me her number afterwards. We have a date this sunday. Though I’m not sure why she had to slap me first.”

“Must be a girl’s natural reaction to seeing your ugly mug,” Aren laughed, leaning back in his chair. It wouldn’t have been a surprise to see him fall backwards. Aren’s current expression was as childish as it could get.

“Eh?” Cur joked back, “At least I can get a date with a girl.”

“You are talking like I can’t.”

Cur laughed, “Well, I’ve been waiting for you to ask her out for how many years? No matter how many girls we flirt with, you’ve never managed to ask the one you actually care about on a date.”

He looked towards the door, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“You think I’m blind? I know you like-”

“Aren likes who?” A girl suddenly asked from behind them. They hadn’t noticed her enter from the doorway. Her long golden hair was tightly tied back into a ponytail.The girl was wearing jean pants that had been cut at the knees to allow easier movement. If a single word had to be used to describe her, it would be tomboy.

A loud bang was heard as Aren’s chair slipped out from underneath him, slamming loudly into the floor. Both Cur and the girl glanced over, holding back laughter as they checked to see if he was alright. After seeing him twitch, they went back to talking.

“Hey, Clare. Where did you pop in from this time?” Cur asked, holding back some laughter. Clare pointed to the open window behind them, “Where do you think?”

Cur sighed, they were on the third floor…

She placed her hands behind her head, placing her back against the wall, “So which lucky girl is this playboy’s crush?”

“Sorry, can’t tell you. It’s sensitive information. I can’t sell my friend out.”

Clare pulled out her cellphone, “It’s a pity, and here I was going to give you this girls number, she asked me to give it to you... If you won’t tell me… I guess I can tell her you turned her down. It’s a shame, she seemed like your type...”

It didn’t even take Cur a second to make his decision, “Well the person he likes is-” A sudden flying kick sent Cur careening into the wall.

“What the hell man. Why are you telling her?” Aren yelled.

Cur picked himself up, “Oh so you admit that you like someone.”

...Aren clicked his tongue, realizing he had been tricked.

“Oh?” Clare asked, “I’m surprised the second biggest playboy on campus actually has a crush on someone. Was it one of those fragile and weak damsels you are so intent on saving?”

Aren remained silent. Only to grow red when both Clare and Cur broke out laughing. This was their daily life, a natural pattern on a natural day.

[p=center]•••[/p]

”Sounds like he is a violent kid. A Flying kick? That must have really hurt.”

“You’ve never had friends have you? That much is only a joke.”

“...”

“Well,” Cur sighed, “He is a little violent, not really his fault. He didn’t get to pick what happens around him. As far as I’m concerned, if he ignored it, I wouldn’t treat him as my friend.”

[p=center]•••[/p]

“Hey Aren, you sure you're okay?”

Cur was currently helping Aren limp over to their class. Aren had several cuts and lacerations on his limbs. The wounds would still be bleeding profusely if Aren hadn’t tied them off with sections of a shirt he ‘found’.

Aren broke out into a laugh, “Of course, Just a few nicks here and there.”

“I’m surprised you made it out alive. There was ten of them.”

“Eh? I just forgot how hard it was to fight alone… I’m used to fighting more than that with you and Clare, the number just seemed like an easy match.”

“Just because they are rich snobs, doesn’t mean they are weak rich snobs. Some of them have taken lessons from several famous martial artists.”

“That didn’t stop me from beating them before.”

“You had Clare and I to guard your back.”

“Ehehe, I forgot about that, you two are always there. I tend to forget it’s possible to walk the streets alone…”

Cur chopped his best friends head, “Hey, we have lives too. We can’t guard your back all the time. You can’t forget the dangerous position you’re in. Don’t be an idiot and walk these streets alone.”

[p=center]•••[/p]

Dangerous position? Why was his position dangerous? Isn’t he just a regular student?”

“You have those papers in your hand, and still don’t realize? You don’t know anything about this place, do you?”

[p=center]•••[/p]

Clare sat alone with Cur. They were in an abandoned classroom as usual. Aren had been sent to work in one of the many facilities on the campus. Due to his scholarship being unable to pay for everything, Aren was treated as a pack mule by the teachers and forced to run random errands.

If the school had even known that Aren slept in Cur’s section of the dorm, they would have already kicked him out. They wouldn’t want their beneficiaries to think they were treating a commoner who couldn’t pay the fees the same as their children.

“You think he is done by now?” Clare asked, somewhat mournful. She was looking out the window toward the setting sun.

“Nope, on nights like these he doesn’t return till the sun has risen.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“I need to use my card to open the door to our room. Why are you?”

She went silent.

“So you plan on using Royal Road to get closer to him eh?”

“...” Clare didn’t meet Cur’s eyes.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Cur leaned back in his chair. Silence blossomed between the two of them. It was a dead heavy silence, an invisible barrier that separated the two. Cur broke it easily with a single line, “I hate this school.”

“Eh?”

“Do you know the reason Aren is still allowed to stay here?”

Clare answered quickly, “His scholarship right?”

The playboy shook his head, “No, his scholarship alone is nowhere near enough to get him here. Aren is the scapegoat that the school prepared. When you have so many kids with noble standing, one of them is bound to stir up a fight. If they are allowed to fight those of equal standing, a long and violent feud could be born.. As long as they have someone beneath them to target, they have no reason to fight amongst themselves. He is here just to be looked down upon..”

“That’s a lie… I don’t look down on Aren.”

“You did. Don’t you remember when you two first met? You were even more violent then, than you are now.”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with this.”

“Did you think the only reason we got in fights was to protect damsels in distress?”

[p=center]•••[/p]

”Royal Road? You guys decided to start playing it?”

The playboy looked up at the man surprised, “You mean you're ignoring the obviously very dangerous thing I mentioned?”

He shrugged, “I’m not here to blackmail you, I just need a good understanding of the guy.”

“So you ask about Royal Road?”

“What can I say?” The man smiled, “Can’t an old guy be curious?”

Cur looked out the door of the room, growing silent. “Well…” Cur finally said, “They’ve been talking about playing it for awhile.”

“They?”

[p=center]•••[/p]

“Hey Aren, have you ever heard of a terror build?”

“Is it like some haunted house gimmick?”

“Nope, its about the idiots in RPGs that only increase one stat.” Clare explained, smiling brightly. Her long golden blond hair curled loosely around her neck, looping behind a single ear as she leaned forward to speak. Cur sat off to the side of the two of them, reading a book as his two close friends chatter. All three were sitting alone in one of the many abandoned classrooms.

Aren wrinkled his brow, “What? Wouldn’t they end up dying?”

Clare shrugged her tiny shoulders, “Depends.”

“Depends?”

“It depends on how the game is made. The programming of the enemies is important. Same with whether the game is skill or turn based. As you said, only focusing on one stat would be license to getting the player killed.”

Aren thought about it for a moment, before asking,“So what about it?”

“When we get our capsules, how about we do that?”

Aren spat out his drink, “What! Why?”

“Wouldn’t it be cool? You’ve always been quick on your feet. If you max speed, no one will be able to match up to you. You would be the perfect kiter and distraction for mobs.”

“So a thief?”

Clare shook her head, “A thief with speed thrice his level. When you level in RPGs you normally have to split your stat bonuses on all the stats you’ll need. A terror build increases your risk, but allows your to reach limits impossible for other players.”

“How the heck am I meant to fight anything?”

“I’ll deal all the damage, I’ll be the world’s slowest damage dealer. I may not be able to hit much, but when I do, I’ll make sure it stays dead. We can overcome each others weaknesses and become a perfect set. We can conquer Royal Road with our teamwork.”

[p=center]•••[/p]

”So those two are a couple, eh?”

Cur shook his head, “Not yet.”

“In the future then?”

“I don’t think he has it in himself to ask her out. He probably won’t even risk it until he fixes his situation. Aren is a coward for the things he actually cares for.”

[p=center]•••[/p]

Cur and Aren were walking through the town. Clare had been off doing her own thing, and couldn’t join them that afternoon.

“Only two more weeks till your capsules arrive,” Cur announced, “You would think that with so many rich kids here, you would be able to order them a bit faster.”

Aren shrugged his shoulders, “It can’t be helped, most of us don’t even know what country we’re in.”

Cur held his hand out, stopping Aren. “You should get ready.”

Aren nodded, pulling out a red bandana out of his pocket, putting it on in order to sweep his hair back. When his hair grew too long and became an annoyance in a fight, he always tied it up like this. “How many this time?” he asked.

Cur looked around, taking some time to count the thugs, “Only 12.”

“You think we can make it in time for dinner?”

Cur laughed, “If we don’t, we can always have them buy us some.”

They pounded their fists, ““Let’s do this.””

[p=center]•••[/p]

”It seems you and your friend, have it tough.”

“Surprisingly, It just makes it easier to successfully flirt with the girls…”

“About that…” The man went quiet, “You know what I’m here about right?”

“...”

“I was surprised, the boy was covered in blood. The cops wouldn’t have found them, if that boy hadn’t been screaming.”

“Yeah,” Cur said, “He’s fine as long the fight remains man on man, but once a girl get’s injured he tends to panic...a bit.”

“A bit?”

[p=center]•••[/p]

“Damn it…” Cur sighed…

He found himself in a large abandoned warehouse. The town had an absurd number of them scattered about. A strange number really, if they all hadn’t been unlocked, you would start to think something suspicious was happening in this small town.

A group of people stood in front of him. All of them held a makeshift weapon of some sort. Their postures were all relaxed and uncaring of Cur’s presence. Why would they be? He was already tied up and shoved against the wall.

The leader of the group was a noble brat with a spiked neon green haircut. He was considerably more ripped than the rest of them, standing at the forefront, closest to Cur. In that instance, Cur decided between Spikey, and Neon boy as the brat’s impromptu nickname… since Spikey was actually somewhat cool, Cur immediately settled for neon boy.

The group standing behind neon boy were all in the school’s uniform. The school actually doesn’t force anyone to wear the thing, the price tag alone could make CEOs faint. However, among the students it was a sign of power. If you owned a uniform, no one would doubt your background within the schools walls, or the town below it.

Cur complained to no one in particular, “Why do I have to be the damsel in distress? Can’t I be the hero saving some pretty girl from ugly thugs?”

Neon boy stared down on Cur, “It’s your fault for hanging out with that trash.”

“Hmm? I don’t remember ever hanging out with someone like that… or do you mean right now? Is the fact that I’m talking to you right now, the sole reason for you dragging me out here?”

A kick sent cur sliding farther down the wall. “Shut up,” neon boy screamed. The kick hit Cur just beneath the ribs, knocking all the air out of his lungs.

“I mean come on,” Cur said after regaining his ability to breathe, “couldn’t you have let me finish the date with the girl first?”

“The girl is the reason you were caught so easily.”

Cur paused, “OH, I was drugged. That explains it… I thought I just had a rather exciting night in town.” That explained the gap in his memory.

The mob of people grew silent.

“Well, what do you plan on doing here anyway? Don’t tell me you kidnapped me just so you can stare at my brilliant body all day long? Sorry, but I’m not into guys.”

“Like hell!” Neon boy screamed, “You are the bait for the trash you call a friend.”

If Cur wasn’t too busy laughing, he might have felt threatened. Neon boy was twice as ripped, thrice as stupid, and was leading a small armed group.

“...oh.”

“‘Oh’? Is that all you have to say?”

Cur thought about everything he could say, ‘Children shouldn’t play with weapons…’ ‘How much do they charge for dry cleaning?’ ‘Couldn’t you have given me a chair?’ But ultimately he settled for the most proper response he could come up with, “Who was that girl? Your sister?”

Neon boy stuck his chest out with pride, “It was my girlfriend, actually.”

“Oh really?” Cur’s eyes lit up, “Can I have her number?”

“She. Is. My. Girlfriend.”

“I know, she was pretty cute. Quite good at kissing too.”

“You what?”

Cur shrugged, “What do you mean, I what?”

“You did what to my girlfriend?”

“Hey man, she was the one who kissed me. I was just curious if she wanted to continue later on better terms.”

Neon boy was turning a scarlet red, “I’m going to kill you.”

“I see, your noble pride is fragile enough to beat up a man tied up in ropes. You even had your girlfriend kiss me to accomplish that.”

“I did not such thing!”

“Oh… so I was right. I knew you wouldn’t tell her to use her tongue…”

One the uniformed members gripped neon boy’s shoulder, “He is probably lying. Don’t trust him. Calm down, our target should be arriving soon.”

Cur laughed, “Well it’s up to you if you believe me or not. I have no reason to lie.”

‘Well’ Cur thought, ‘Besides watching this guy become a human christmas tree.’

…

“What did you guys send to call him out?” Cur asked, “Not another girl I hope, I can’t have him being more suave than me.”

“A letter of challenge of course,” Neon boy stammered, still a bit red, “It says,’Come to the abandoned store shed at 9, or prepare for your princess to get hurt.”

Cur looked over the objects in the mobs hands, “You guys might want some better weapons...”

The large doors of the warehouse slammed open, the light of the setting sun shone against the man’s back, making him look like some sort of hero in a lame action flick. If it weren’t for the loud resounding sigh he gave off when entering, he might have pulled it off too.

“Oh my hero! You’ve come to save me!” Cur said in falsetto.

“I thought you guys said princess…” Aren looked at Cur, “Can I go home now?”

“What?” Neon boy yelled, “Aren’t you going to save your friend?”

Aren complained to everyone in the warehouse, “Think about how I feel for a second. I thought I was going to save a girl in distress. And instead I found a flirt tied up in ropes, surrounded by a bunch of sweaty guys… I would rather just leave.”

“...”

“...I’ll treat?” Cur lamented.

“Alright you bastards!” Aren yelled, “Which one of you buggers hurt my friend! It’s time for your punishment!” Aren was a little too motivated when food was on the line…

After their initial shock, the group of armed men in the room all started to laugh. They held their weapons in front of them, as if to show them off. In response, Aren took the time to count them one by one. Even in a situation where he faced off against eight armed individuals, he was rather calm.

As long as they outnumbered him, Aren would be able to fight as much as he wanted. If the school reported him, it would only demean the status of those in uniforms.

“I wouldn’t mind releasing your friend, if you got on your knees and begged for forgiveness” Neon boy said sweetly, as he gripped a knife in his hand. He must have felt empowered by having the blade in hand.

“Why?”

“You are outnumbered maybe?”

“Shouldn’t you surround him first? Surround then threaten, can’t you idiots do anything right?” Cur stated, leaning back against the wall. His hands were tied behind his back with the rope, so he had a hard time getting comfortable to watch the show.

They must have actually agreed with Cur’s advice, as they started to walk around and form a circle around Aren. The entire time they set up, both Aren and Cur watched, twiddling their thumbs.

“Hey Cur,” Aren asked, “What are the chances of you getting out of those ropes?”

“...”

“Fine…” Aren hung his head, “Eight isn’t that bad anyway… I just hate fighting people with knives. They tend to be idiots and hurt themselves more than necessary.”

Aren spoke rather calmly, but kept himself facing neon boy who was holding the knife. A weapon like that was nothing to joke about. It was easy for both the victim and the attacker to get hurt badly.

“What was that?” Neon boy yelled, “Who ya calling an idiot?”

Cur replied nonchalantly, “Take a guess, its the guy swinging a knife around while complaining about being called an idiot.”

If neon boy hadn’t already joined the circle to pummel on Aren, Cur would have had another kick to the gut.

“Shall we begin?” Aren asked, “I’m hungry and someone promised to treat me to a expensive meal.”

“Who the hell said anything about it being expensive!” Cur yelled.

Aren glanced at cur, raising his eyebrows, “I can leave you know.”

Even with Aren surrounded, Cur didn’t doubt his words, so he gave up, “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll treat you to something expensive. I can’t stand having a bunch of guys admiring me.”

For Aren, a fight was a mere game. A game with some stakes on the line, but a game all the same. When facing abnormal numbers, it was less about striking and more about dodging. Well, that was what he was taught at least. He didn’t always follow it.

Luckily for him, only neon boy was using a knife. The others had bats and other makeshift weapons. There were even two people using brass knuckles.

One of the men swung the bat horizontally, causing a few to jump back to avoid being hit by their ally. Aren ducked down low, avoiding the strike as it flew past his head. The bat continued to swing forward, sending it careening into one of the two brass knucklers.

The knuckler tried to use his arms to block, but the force of the swing pushed into him, shoving his guard directly into this face. A thin trickle of blood started to form at his nose. His arms probably were going to swell in the morning from the bruise.

Cur yelled, “Aren, want to make bets?”

“Not this time, Cur.” Aren jumped back as three weapons slammed into the ground where he was a second before. Three of those attackers actually worked well together. They timed their attacks so that Aren had a harder time dodging them.

Aren was forced to take some light blows as he continued to forcefully dodge all the attacks. He had yet to attack his opponents in retaliation, in fact, he hadn’t even bothered to raise his hands in defence.

Cur laughed as he noticed the mob slowly growing angrier. He belonged to the same boarding school as them, so he could understand their mentality. They were taught that anyone without the proper rank was a weak and worthless individual. The reason Aren was targeted was to prove that fact. The mob felt insulted that they had not been able to bring down the person they viewed as trash.

Following the pace of neon boy, the attackers started to speed up in turn. They must have thought the more they attacked, the harder it would be for the trash to dodge. However, it only led to them hitting each other as Aren danced around them.

“Are you sure you don’t want to make a bet?” Cur asked.

“Can’t you act more damsel like?”

“Oh great Prince Aren, can’t you save me from these ugly beasts? They fell in love with my grace and beauty and have kidnapped and brought me into this foul and abhorrent place.”

The men grew distracted from Cur’s insults. Aren finally sent two quick uppercuts to the two closest fighters. The men he hit fell forward, dropping to their knees. Without waiting for them to get up, Aren jumped forward, kneeing the one to his right in the face. He spun on his heel and delivered a strike to the other with a roundhouse.

Red splatter had started to turn Aren’s pants into a twisted and devilish appearance. The devil wearing them smiled as he turned to face those remaining.

Only six more to go.

Aren launched forward, successfully delivering one more punch. This time he didn’t follow up with a kick. Instead, he swung himself behind his victim, twisting his arm around his neck.

The attacks from the others continued. Aren twisted the poor boy around, using him as a sponge to absorb their attacks. When they realized they had only been managing to hurt their ally, the strikes slowly stopped.

Blood was slowly trickling down Aren’s arm. If he were a kind person he would have started to worry about his shield…

“What are you doing, you coward! How can you take a hostage?”

““...”” Aren and Cur deadpanned.

Aren dropped the bag of meat to the ground sighing, “Sorry… I really shouldn’t have done that. Only a coward uses a hostage. If I want to even act noble, I should stick to one on one fights and never use a woman as a tool.”

“...How the hell do you know we did that?” neon boy yelled.

Aren pointed to Cur, “That idiot wouldn’t have been captured by weaklings like you, unless you used a girl. He may be a fool, and act in questionable manners from time to time, but he would, by no means, lose to trash nobles like you. He isn’t even injured.”

“...”

Aren sighed loudly, “When I first saw him tied up, I thought I would actually find a decent fight. That I would find someone strong enough to beat him up… and what do I find instead, HE’S UNHARMED AND SMILING.”

“...”

“You know for trash villains, can’t you even do your job properly? A hostage shouldn’t be smiling!” Aren glanced at the few of the fighters he had bothered to attack. They were still lying on the ground bleeding. The bag of meat was the worst off, but that wasn’t Aren’s fault.

“We aren’t trash villains!” Neon boy yelled.

“Seriously? Then why are you guys giving up from only that much pain?” Aren asked.

“We aren’t giving up.” Neon boy jumped forward, knife in hand.

“Aren!” Cur yelled.

Aren twisted violently to the side, barely dodging the strike, it had been by luck more than anything else. Panicking as he dodged, he overestimated the force needed. Aren lost his balance and hopped comically on one foot. One of the men using a crowbar, took the chance to send a strike harshly into his side.

A sharp crack echoed in the empty arena, even Cur flinched at the noise.

Aren clenched his teeth, biting down the sound that tried to rise from his throat. his left arm bent oddly, facing the wrong direction.

“AHAHAHAHA,” Neon boy laughed, “Now you see the might of Noble blood!”

A quick right straight, sent neon boy flying.

Aren went back to clutching his arm, “Ughh… that hurts.” he took a deep breath, calming himself. A steady trail of blood escaped from his left arm. This time it wasn’t from his meatshield.

The three remaining men stared. They were all wannabee nobles, and weren’t used to the sensation of pain. Aren must have seemed like a monster to remain standing with a broken arm.

Neon boy stood back up. In total, four of them still remained. Aren was visibly surprised that neon boy was still standing. He may have covered in muscle, but pain was pain. It was a strike to his face too. The thin trickle of blood from his nose could have him mistaken for a pervert in some novels.

Cur shook his head, “Why aren’t you fighting back?”

Aren shrugged, “I am.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes I am.”

“No. you. are. not.”

“I broke my arm.”

“You can break your arm playing around.”

“I. Broke. My. Arm.”

“Doesn’t matter, you are still not fighting..”

“Why do you say that?”

“They are still standing.”

“...”

“...”

“Am I some sort of super human?”

“You say that… but you’re talking right now, aren’t you?”

“And?”

Cur let out a long drawn out breath, “They are attacking you right now…”

Aren glanced around dumbstruck. “Oops…” He clutched his arm melodramatically, “Oh, I have lost, the pain has brought me down to my knees.”

“You’re still standing.” Cur said monotone.

“To be honest, I’m wasting time.”

“Why?”

“Why else….”

It took Cur a brief moment to realize what Aren meant “Do you want to get them killed?”

Aren shrugged… only to breath in sharply as his broken arm moved. Although he put on a tough act, a broken arm still must have hurt a considerable degree.

“We have you now!” Neon boy screamed.

“STOOOOOOOOOOP” A new entrant screamed. It was a short person, easily the shortest among the people here. Yet her voice carried such authority with it, that everyone in the room froze. No one such as so much as blinked, as the girl stepped towards the mob of people.

“Clare,” Aren bowed.

“Aren, Cur,” Clare smiled.

She approached the group armed with nothing but a smile. A chill raised on Cur’s back, he had seen what happened when she fought. It was never pretty…

At first the four remaining individuals did not view Clare as a threat. Even with her tomboyish attire, they were taught that all girls were fragile and weak. That stopped when she snapped one of their arms. Some flowers are quite poisonous.

In terms of combat prowess, Aren was nowhere near the level of Clare. Their fighting styles were quite similar, but that was because Clare was the one who taught Aren to fight. Her movements were so smooth that you would be hard pressed to think she was attacking.

It was as if the entire battle was being conducted. She didn’t fight so much as manipulate. She danced through the men, attracting their gazes and sending their weapons careening into each other. Only when their strikes came close to hitting her, did she bother to defend.

“And I only get to watch… Well, the perks of being the damsel in this situation I guess.”

“...What?” Clare turned to face Cur. “Why the heck are you the damsel?”

Taking the opening, one of the fighters swung at Clare from the newly opened blind spot... A kick from Aren sent him and his weapon flying to Cur on the farthest wall.

“Hey Idiot, watch what you are doing.” Aren yelled, his foot still raised into the air.

“Idiot? The idiot calls me an idiot?”

“Who you calling an idiot? Idiot.”

“It takes one to know one.”

Like oil and water, those two fought at the most inopportune times. You could tell how close they were by how they treated one another. They needn’t worry about the other being hurt, and hurled harsh jokes at each other.

“Okay you idiot duo,” Cur yelled, nonchalantly kicking the corpse that landed near him, “Mind finishing this fight already? I want to go home.”

““You shut up!!” They both yelled at once.

Cur kept his complaints to himself, and continued to watch the rest of the match. The fight seemed to evolve into a dance, a style of movement that could only be born between the Clare and Aren..

Dodge, Slide, Punch, Sidestep.

Slide, Sidestep, Sidestep, throw.

Dodge, slide, punch.

The opponents, fell into chaos. They couldn’t understand why they couldn’t hit their targets. Their weapons only struck air. Their weapons started to weigh more in their hands, and drew closer to the ground.

The occasional splatter of blood, continued to eat up away at their courage. If it wasn’t for the fact that running was considered cowardly, they would have fled long ago. Because of their pride, most of the remaining fighters had turned into piles of meat.

The reason Clare was terrifying to fight with, was not her strength. It was her ability to judge. She knew just how much force to use to keep her opponent from falling. Clare simply kept the damage below what the adrenaline could hide, and slowly worked her way up.

Neon boy was the last man standing. He had several welts going up the side of his face. The spikes in his hair had mostly been snapped. The neon green hair was now tipped red from the splattering blood. It was quite the grotesque scene.

“You… You… bastards!”

“blood… blood…” Aren ignored him and started to mumble.

Clare put her hand on his shoulder, as if to calm him down. “It will be alright. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’ll be fine Aren, just calm down.” Cur chipped.

“But the blood… so much blood…”

““Aren…””

“I’m never going to get this blood off my clothes! This was my only good pair.” Aren was nearly in tears. Neither Cur, nor Clare, could tell if he was joking or not. Judging by the smile, it was probably a joke… they hoped it was at least.

Neon boy shuddered.

In the next moments, none of the fighters were willing to open the door. If the friends had allowed neon boy to scream, even the cops wouldn’t have been willing to enter the door.

[p=center]•••[/p]

”What happened to him?”

“Haha. If I told you, I would have to kill you.”

“...”

“It’s just a joke. We just fixed his hair for him… And his clothes… and… tended his injuries with some swabs of iodine… We were doing the proper thing in that situation.”

“...”

[p=center]•••[/p]

Aren was currently in panic, standing next to Clare. He hadn’t expected that to happen. If he had been paying attention… If he hadn’t been late… she wouldn’t- have gotten a cut on her cheek.

Cur sighed, rubbing his wrists. He watched as his best friend get himself worked up over the tiny injury. It was always like this, Aren was so obsessed about his friends being hurt, he forgot his own injuries.

Apparently, Clare thought the same.

“What are you doing? Calm down already, it’s just a cut.”

“What if it get’s infected?”

A rather heavy chop sent Aren to his knees…

“What is the idiot with a broken arm talking about? Shouldn’t we be rushing you to the hospital?”

[p=center]•••[/p]

Cur laughed, “That idiot was more obsessed over the cut, than he was about his broken arm.”

“....”

“He made us treat her cut before allowing himself to be rushed off to the hospital. The idiot started to scream when the adrenaline finally wore off.”

“How’d you explain the blood?”

“They stopped asking around the 104th time we walked through that door. They’ve gotten used to it… Young nurses are nice…”

The man heard a thought that he felt was he was better off ignoring, “Why is she curious about that violent boy? I just can’t understand it…”

“Who is curious?”

“Not something you need to know.”

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Spoiler : Hello everyone,

I thought I would take the time to write a little side story of the main arc. Cur yelled at me for this, so It seems I was a tad bit mean here. Oh well…

Just curious, would you guys like me to make a teaser and discussion topic? My favorite part about the FFs is all the conspiracy theories that go into it.

Like always, Thanks for taking the time to read this.

Tui signing off.

End Chapter 6

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