Objective: Ouran Academy ♔ OHSHC

[23] Why Wouldn't You Listen To Me?

                My eye twitched as I detected movement to my right, deep into the shadows.

                Almost immediately instincts drummed into me for over a decade kicked in.

                Raise the back of the right hand to the left cheek.

                Flick the wrist, releasing the pins at a ninety degree angle to the chest.

                Kick some ass.

                Satisfying grunts reached my ears as three separate corpses fell into the light with a thunk, two inches of the pins visible from each man's forehead.

                Four buried in their skull.

                I had, quite accurately, punctured a small hole in their skull and severed the nerves between the right and left sides of their brain.

                Dead.

                The others stopped for a second, fazed by how quickly their comrades fell to my hand.

                No one was going to touch him.

                Tamaki had to stay safe.

                Too many people depended on him for guidance, happiness, and most of all, companionship. His demise, unlike mine, would have a much bigger ripple effect within this world.

                'Bitch!' One man bellowed, charging at me with a katana.

                My large skirt rustled as I sidestepped his attack, grabbing the sword around the hilt and wrenching it out of his grasp.

                'Didn't your mother every teach you not to play with sharp objects?' I muttered in a monotone voice, spinning the metal in my hands and turning to plunge it into the back of his neck.

                I backed up as blood spurted out of the wound, adding more the once-sparkling ground. The puddles around the first three were growing too.

                Loathsome to ruin the flourishing ocean dress the twins had gifted me with crimson; it left me more hindered than free.

                Normally, I would rip the skirt off and use the spikes on my heels.

                However, this situation wasn't normal.

                'Come at me, bro.' A ghost of a smile flickered on my face as I remembered a cute turtle with strawberry meme Tamaki showed me last night.

                This time though, unlike the park... unlike the first three... unlike katana-boy...

                Nearly twenty people, each with their own weapon, slithered out of the darkness, stalking me slowly.

                I scuffed my left stiletto around to the left, tilting my head back and to the side while I sent them a chilling glare and half smile.

                There was no way I would make it out of this unscathed, and even if I did manage to immobilize them all, the club would know I wasn't normal.

                I wasn't rich.

                I was a killer.

                Picking up my skirts, I jumped as I had a broadsword swung at my ankles. They were expecting my reaction though, and another ran start up and tackled me in the air.