Black Rose- A Weak Hero Fanfic [OLD VERSION]

Wolf Keum

Whoomph. 

I landed with a sigh, fingers and knees digging into parched soil for purchase. It had taken far too long to descend to ground level, courtesy of waiting until White Mamba entered school grounds. And now I had to spend fifteen minutes trying to get the dirt out of my nails--not to mention the splinters embedded in my fingertips.

I pulled myself up, neck cracking as I surveyed my surroundings. 

My "observation post" was blanketed in dust and cobwebs, paint flaking as it creaked dismally in the wind. A forgotten shack, crouched in the shadow of an equally forlorn dumpster. Easily overlooked--which rendered it the perfect checkpoint. 

My phone lit up to display the time: 6:49. As I watched, the glowing numbers flickered to 6:50.

Today's trip had been a success. 

A low, satisfied chuckle sprang to the back of my throat. I shook it away, reminding myself that now was not the time to be triumphant. Although these past few months of training had paid off, this was no guarantee that the plan would go smoothly. 

He'd smiled, then. Smiled as he fell. 

The air seemed to close in on me, my mind howling as a scream thrashed in my throat. Froze. And suddenly I could feel something lodged in my windpipe, feel a searing itch in my knuckles as I longed to shatter them against stone. 

Instead, I clenched my fists. Took a deep breath. Reminded myself that I didn't have the luxury of falling apart now, that these were just memories. 

Yet these memories were my very reason for standing here. For standing at all. For the chill in my bones whenever I thought of that night, for spending months lost in grey and tears and pieces. 

I couldn't allow myself to slip back into that lethargic, pitiful state again. 

Slowly, painfully, I gathered myself and headed out. It would be a short, five-minute walk to Eunjang, barely enough to ruminate on things yet again. But with all that was weighing on my mind like vultures tearing at my psyche, it was bound to be an eternity.

...

A motorcycle sped out of nowhere, engine gunning. 

My heart slammed against my ribs and I recoiled, shielding my eyes against the morning sun. Dimly, I caught a glimpse of unruly purple hair and a red blazer--right hand raised, a single finger lifted. The middle one, in particular. 

Well fuck you too, arrogant grape-boy.

I reached into my bag and pulled out a tissue, seething. A clammy glob of spit slid down my cheek, its coldness in stark contrast to the blood rushing through my veins. I wiped it off and took a deep breath, reminding myself to tread carefully. 

Red blazers were a part of the Ganghak school uniform. And an arrogant, purple-haired guy that went to Ganghak could only mean one person: 

Wolf Keum, ranked fifth in the Union. Lost to the White Mamba a couple weeks ago. 

I pressed my lips into a thin line, considering my options. Chasing down grape-boy and intentionally antagonizing him would put me at a disadvantage--his durability supposedly rivaled that bastard Donald Na. Though Donald was hardly merciful towards failure, either. If I played my cards right, Wolf's position would be within my grasp soon enough. 

But now was not the time to plunge headfirst into thought, I realized. The streetlight glowed green in front of me, illuminating my path forward. For now, I would stick to the plan and keep a low profile. When Wolf's turn came around, however, I would be thrilled.

...

The first thing that hit was the smell--artificially sweet but acrid. A kind of lemon cleaning agent, just barely masking the stench of sweat and cigarette smoke. I wrinkled my nose, blinking rapidly at the vacant hallway of class 1-1. 

I glanced at my phone. To my relief and a twinge of dismay, school didn't start for another thirty minutes. In a futile effort to be productive, I decided to wander the building in search of the teacher's office. 

"Serves me right," I muttered, aiming a halfhearted kick at the shuttered office door. Of course, it was empty. Another reminder that everything had a price, no matter how small the action.

A wave of fatigue flooded my body, coaxing my mind into blissful oblivion. Despite myself, I could feel my back slumping and my head dropping against my chest. In a last-ditch effort to ward off sleep, I dug my nails into my forearm. Hard.

My muscles tensed in reflex, my mind fumbling in limbo: this was no use. I hadn't expected the caffeine to wear off that quickly. Granted, 2 am wasn't a normal wake time by any means. Either way, I would end up dozing off and losing track of everything if I didn't do something now. 

Pushing my shoulders back, I strode down the hallway. Each step brisk yet unhurried, grimy tiles squeaking underfoot. The more confident I looked, the more composed I would feel, I reasoned.

 And because there were so few people in the building, anyone with half a brain would know not to challenge someone who seemed so self-assured. Without witnesses around, fighting me would do nothing for their ego or reputation. 

I rounded a corner. No witnesses meant I could go as far as I wanted. 

My lips quirked upward, a tight little grin that didn't feel as much a smile as a grimace. A smile for the dozens of hungry eyes that lurked outside my vision, just waiting to sink their teeth into me. 

They'd have to try a lot harder than that. 

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Authors Note:

Hey there! I hope you've had a great day so far.

My spelling and grammar may be terrible right now, but please remember this is only the first draft. Whenever I finish Black Rose, I will go back and massively edit so future readers don't have to read a train wreck. I would also appreciate it if you would comment if you notice a spelling or grammar error, or if some part of my writing doesn't sound quite right to you. I will do my best to revise/edit to your suggestions. Please don't hesitate to be blunt --I appreciate you taking the time to give me feedback.

Thanks for reading!

--Lorene707