"Reina, what do you mean you got assaulted on the bus?"

I was a bundle of nerves (and pain) as the school nurse gently tapped at my arm.

"It wasn't an assault, per se, but I was definitely put into an awkward situation." I paused, grappling for more words only to be met with nothing but a prickling fear. "Can I leave now?"

Dad sent me a look of displeasure. "Why must you always get yourself tangled in something dangerous? By the time I got home yesterday your mother told me she received a call about you being brought in for an investigation."

I trained my gaze onto the white curtain encasing us then over my shoulder to the window leading into the courtyard. Blocking out the hollers and screeches occurring right outside was impossible.

"Dad," I pleaded.

"Keep still." He wrapped my arm in bandages and held it firm below my chest. "Honestly," he sighed, "this wouldn't happen if you stopped being stubborn and tagged along in the car with me every morning."

"And come here an hour earlier every day?" I exclaimed.

Dad recoiled. Wincing, he placed a finger to his ear. A mixture of trepidation and embarrassment ran through me. I awkwardly dropped my gaze.

Even if he and I were related by blood, I couldn't understand him. You would literally have to be insane to attend this high school, let alone waltz in early to boot. I could barely keep my sanity straight during the regular eight hours I was trapped here for, let alone an extra hour added on top of that. The last time I came remotely early was on my first day and it was a memory I'd already buried deep inside my heart. I didn't want to remember what those boys and girls were handing off and smoking in the main courtyard, and the piles of bodies strewn around them like Halloween decor.

I'd heard countless rumours of how notorious Akelius Academy was growing up and had already dismissed the possibility of enrolling. I mean, I lived pretty far off from here and there were closer schools. But of course, Dad, being Dad, had to come strolling into the doors of our household to declare he'd finally found a job after getting the boot from his previous one months prior. A school nurse, of all occupations, here at fight-central, Akelius Academy.

I insisted plenty for him to reconsider but Dad was stubborn—nearly as stubborn as me. And although I'd been attending for a while now, currently midway through my second year, things hadn't changed.

"Reina," he called me out of my daze, securing the last of the splint around my arm. "Just keep it elevated and don't touch it."

I raked over his work. "That's it?"

"It is only a light sprain, so as long as you remember to ice it it'll heal in a week or so."

"Seriously?"

"Sounds to me like you wanted to hear something else."

"Well, no. I'm glad it's all right."

He retreated at that, adjusting the thick-rimmed glasses that hung loosely on the bridge of his nose. "Now, get going," he said, spinning around to fiddle with some supplies at his desk. "You saw the crazy line-up."

Yeah, and stood in it, I wanted to say but held it back. Despite it not being as packed as it generally was, the blood I spotted on their bodies was messed up. It was times like these I was grateful for my short height. Slipping through without those big guys noticing me was a perk, but that didn't erase my distaste for coming here.

Considering the delinquent number in this school, injuries or broken bones needing to get patched up was a regular occurrence. And what better person to do so than the school nurse himself?

Till this day I didn't think Dad realized the only reason the school hired him was because they couldn't find anyone else willing to treat casual nosebleeds to knife and even gun wounds.

"So my arm really is fine? You're not only just saying that because I'm your daughter and you want to get rid of me?"

His pause was painstaking. "You should leave."

"At least answer the question!"

"I'm kidding," he reassured me, spotting my frown. "There's no reason for me to slack on treatment when I'm getting paid."

"So if money wasn't a factor in this, you wouldn't treat me?"

His glasses beamed in the light. "Anyway—"

"There's no 'anyway' to that! How blinded by money are you? No amount is worth working at this school for! None! And you're my father. At least say you'll treat me for free. It hurts!"

My outburst left me heaving. Dad merely deadpanned, which made it difficult to tell whether he was kidding or not. I prayed he was. It was always so difficult to tell with him.

"Hurry the fuck up! Ten minutes are up!"

The yell shook me in more ways in one.

The curtain was tugged from the other side, making me squeal.

"You heard them, Reina."

I gave Dad an appalled look. How was he able to withstand this job and all of these barbaric delinquents? A normal person would've lost their sanity by now!

Nudging the notion aside, I made a beeline for the white curtains. I yanked them apart and readied myself to make a mad dash for the exit. At least, of course, I was until something flew towards me. I teetered in time to dodge it. Whatever it was smacked the ground hard, nearly dragging the white curtain down along with it.

All the blood in my body turned to ice. I robotically craned my neck towards the source. He was in a tattered state. Blood oozing from his nose. Body scratched up.

The stream of rowdy shrieks that followed answered why.

Knuckles slamming into skin. Screams and cries. One by one, the hollers and screeches from the delinquent population blared, loud enough to quake my soul.

My jittery hands wrenched what was remaining of the curtain, closed.

I inched backwards, quivering as the beatings amplified. Eyes wider than saucers, I ducked behind Dad.

"Stop fighting out there!" he monotoned, gaze glued to the documents in hand. Not the slightest emotion surfaced. "They're very noisy today, huh?"

"Are you kidding me? Stop them! They're coming closer!"

"Oh, it'll simmer down soon. Return to your classroom, Reina."

I whimpered, crouching into a ball. Dad wasn't serious, right? He couldn't honestly expect me to leave through that chaos? There was no way I'd allow myself to be hit in collateral damage!

Dammit! This was why I was so against coming here in the first place!

After what felt like centuries, deadly silence consumed the room.

Nothing could be heard except for the ruffling of the paper in Dad's hands. Then, footsteps padded closer. The hairs on the back of my neck rose, goosebumps bristling my arms. I jerked around for a place to hide. Upon catching sight of the window behind me, I bolted in its direction.

I jiggled open the lock and slid the window ajar with ease. Right as the curtain was being pried open, I leapt out, diving stomach-first onto the field of grass below.

As soon as I collided, I grimaced. A stinging sensation sent jolts of pain up my arm.

I had to admit I was truly an idiot. This was the second time I'd hurt it today.

"Looks like you had fun cutting in line." Dad's voice drifted outside the ajar window—the one I'd moment's ago jumped from. "What brings you to the infirmary today?"

I hoisted my body upright, which was difficult with only my right hand. My left arm still wrapped in its sling remained aching terribly.

"I didn't cut in line," an oddly peppy voice snorted. "There was nobody to cut in front of in the first place."

"Ah, I guess... They're all passed out after all..."

Curious at the awkward laugh Dad produced, I patted my clothes down before discreetly crawling to the open window. Placing my fingers on the ledge, I peered inside. Dad sat tall in his chair, facing a male I couldn't quite identify from my position.

He was propped on the counter, one leg crossed and the other tucked to his chest. As the cuffs of his pants had been rolled up, his ankles were in plain sight. Considering the top of the window also successfully shielded the upper half of his face, I couldn't see anything but his lopsided grin, so broad dimples poked into his cheeks.

All of the fearsome delinquents I'd crossed paths with to enter the infirmary were now knocked unconscious—limp bodies scattered like dust around him.

My breathing intensified. He took them all out? By himself?

"Anyways, Mr. Kikuchi." He hopped off the counter and gestured to the body closest to him. Matching his small-statured frame was his voice, which sounded nothing but mischievous. "I need you to deal with this guy for me. Raidon's being a pain about needing him, so the faster you heal him, the better."

"Aki, I cannot heal people," Dad replied calmly. "I'm only capable of treating them."

The names left me frozen. Raidon... as in the Raidon Tsuki? I had to have misheard him, right? No, Dad referred to this boy in front of him as 'Aki' as well.

It couldn't be...

"Man, you're useless," Aki Mitsoyu sighed, draping a hand over his hip. "Well, I should've expected that much. You don't even have the proper credentials to be a nurse, but you went into debt at your old job, which almost left your family homeless. You were desperate to work anywhere and this rundown delinquent school was desperate to hire anybody willing to deal with the constantly fighting students. The school doesn't have to hold too much responsibility for hospital bills, and you get some money to support your family. Talk about a match made in heaven."

My throat was unbelievably dry. It was him.

"Your information gathering is top-notch as ever," Dad nervously chuckled.

"Well, yeah. If I can't collect at least this much, Raidon would've ditched my ass a long time ago."

He bent over and wrapped an arm across the unconscious boy's neck. Effortlessly, he carried him to the nearby mattress. Dad pushed himself to his feet and approached. He checked the guy's pulse before lifting his arm.

"This is terrible," he mumbled. "It's almost as if he got a knife run through it."

"Because that is what happened," Aki cooed. "It was a pretty intense scrimmage this time around. You should've seen the way Kei-Kei snapped. He attacked our opponents like a wild boar."

Though Dad looked as if he wanted to retort, he didn't. Instead, he faced him.

"You're staying here?"

"Well, as soon as that guy regains consciousness, he's definitely gonna run. I'm not in the mood to go on a wild goose chase, nor do I have the time to. Staying here is the most efficient plan." His smile was so clearly heard in his tone. "Don't tell me you dislike my company, Mr. Kikuchi? Even after all the business I give you?"

Dad pinched the bridge of his nose. I'd never seen him lose his cool no matter what delinquent was in his vicinity, but now he couldn't have seemed more uncomfortable. Aki must've been as scary as the rumours proclaimed. Well, if he could take down all those delinquents in less than three minutes and also sound like such a happy-go-lucky teenager, the fear was understandable.

Nevertheless, watching everything unfold like a drama had me entranced. Seeing as I was too absorbed in finding out whatever else I could—whilst ensuring the safety of my dad under this risky circumstance—I couldn't defend myself when a hand randomly clasped over my mouth.

I jumped reflexively, successfully head-butting the person who'd grabbed me from behind. My right hand lurched into a frantic karate chop pose.

Finding an orange-haired male groaning as he rubbed his chin was not what I expected.

I recognized him in an instant.

It was the guy from yesterday. The one who'd shoved me to the ground after I sat on his lap. The one who'd forced me to be his tour guide despite my insurmountable protests.

"I can't believe you head-butted me..." he muttered, stifling the pain. Without warning, he rammed my head beneath the windowsill. I gasped but he hastily hissed, "Shh!"

I was just about to snap something at him when I heard the shuffle of feet. Aki's back was turned, but any and all conversation he was having with Dad had come to an abrupt halt.

An ominous chuckle arose. He craned his neck back, directly at me. A broad, hostile smirk peeled back his lips.

"Which moron has the gall to spy on me?"

My lungs caved, heart taking a nosedive to my gut. His footsteps approached the window. If he saw me now, he'd kill me for eavesdropping. Hearing the rumours about him—witnessing what he had done to those unconscious delinquents only minutes prior—I knew that to be the case.

"Great, this is all your fault," Ryu Iwasaki—if I recalled his name correctly—hissed.

I could only gape. "How is this—"

He clamped his hand over my lips to silence me. Then, before Aki could dare see us beneath the window ledge, he grasped my hand in his and ran.