♔ c h a p t e r o n e ♔ ripped jeans and yellow dresses
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"You know the plan..." A voice growled close to my ear. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. I knew how to do my job, and I knew how to do it properly. With, or without, anybody’s help. "Are you certain about taking it alone?" My Sector Supervisor's voice echoed against the bare cement walls.
"Yes. Anybody else would hinder my mission." I replied sharply, uncrossing my legs so to stretch them in the hard-backed chair.
"No backup?" A smile twitched at the edges of his thin lips. "Just remember to get the goods."
"The Suou boy. Let nothing compromise my objective."
"Good. Now hurry up - I have no wish to explain to the C.E.O. why our most prized employee is sitting around twidling her thumbs."
"Understood." I looked back down at the photo of the frivolous ‘Host Club’ posing as an overly-dramatic stage show. The tip of my finger brushed the face of a blue-eyed, blonde-haired boy as I analyzed the image. There was a small insigna on the corner of the photo, proudly displaying an OA logo.
"Objective: Ouran Academy." I grinned the grin of a predator.
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I pulled my long, wavy blonde hair into a high ponytail, regarding the yellow school dress spread on my small bed with disgust. The ugly thing even came with stockings. "No way in fucking hell am I wearing this!" I yelled through my tightly closed door.
Heavy combat boots - which I would rather be wearing instead of those weird, brown, slipper things - stomped up the hallway outside my closed door. "No choice. What the boss says, goes." A deep, rasping voice growled.
"Well then, tell him that off is about where I wish he would fuck!" I snapped back, yanking out a pair of ripped, black jeans instead.
A chuckle sounded, followed with a heavy thunk. Most likely that of a body.
"You had something to say to me?" I could sense amusement in the newcomer's voice.
"You heard me." I grumbled. I hate this shit.
"Oh, yes, loud and clear actually." The voice appeared clearer and I shot a look over my shoulder to my once-closed-now-wide-open door.
"Do you have any concept of knocking, pervert?" I muttered dryly as I stood beside my bed in nothing other than a bra and pair of jeans.
"And miss out on this work piece of art?" He winked, but took the time to look me over too. "I don’t think so." My Supervisor - Jacob Felwright - clicked his fingers and gestured to the door. "Hurry it up, girly."
"Get, out." I ordered as if he hadn't spoken. One of my fists clenched at my waist while the other mimicked his gesture and directed him to the door.
"I’m the boss around here, not you." He rolled his eyes in annoyance but nonetheless returned to the hallway. "Oh, by the way, wear the dress. It'd suit you."
"Fuck you. Never." I snarled and walked over to slam the door behind him. Having this hell hole as your home, day-in-day-out, would piss off anybody. Even me, and I was raised here from a very young age. By that bitch, actually.
However, I couldn't really do much to stop him if he ever wanted to assert his position as my Supervisor - as he could easily sign me up for reeducation... meaning punishment.
Jack; our resident weapon manufacturer, used to love testing his new, old and modelled toys on me. He used to be the main show in my nightmares when I first arrived in S.H.A.D.O.W., but as soon as I'd grown up - and smartened up - we'd been seeing each other less and less frequently.
I didn't have any complaints about that.
After all, no matter how much these born and bred criminals might joke with me, I would always loathe them. They hurt me, I killed them, they laughed at my pain and I revelled in their torture. Both they and I had to pretend to like each other, but my meetings with the other 'employees' usually ended in a brawl.
And generally an unconscious body - which was never mine.
Sighing, I looked hatefully at the dress again. I told the universe to go kick some puppies as I pulled on a black sweater over my exposed bra. I laced up my worn and scuffed military boots before shoving my books and shit into a duffle - along with a small sniper rifle and silencer. I made sure to tuck some small, stubby knives along my underwear's waistband, under my jeans. Small, clip-on bullet deflectors were strapped my forearms under my shirt like bracelets.
"Oh shit. Where did I drop it this time?" I groaned as I realised my new phone wasn't sitting on my pillow like I'd thought it was. I got onto my hands and knees to look for the phone I'd bought only a week before. "Jesus!" I cursed, spotting its shine way underneath my bed, where no position on either side could get my fingers to even brush it.
"You’re late!" Jacob's voice boomed down the hallway again. From the mess hall, perhaps. "Get your ass moving, Alex!"
"You just said that!" I yelled back and stretched one last time, wishing my arms were as long as Slenderman’s. Then I could do anything, include whipping my Supervisor’s ass.
I grumbled pitifully and withdrew from the side of the bed, throwing the duffle over my shoulder and venturing out of the dreary place that was my room with one last look. Striding through the corridors of the compound, I eventually ascended into the mess hall. Our base was below ground, several stories of ground, actually.
"Alex. Why do I see your face here?" Jacob flicked his wrist, sending an apple flying up into the air.
"Because I feel like eating." I reached in front of him and through the group of people congregating around the cafeteria bend, plucked a chocolate muffin from the stand and turned around. ‘"Now, I’ll be leaving."
"Forever?" Some dickhead laughed from behind me.
"Tch, you wish." I pretended to brush the comment off as I walked towards the doors, concealing the wound each hateful comment tossed my way ate at.
No matter how hurtful their comments were, how callous these men acted, they were the closest thing I had to family.
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I strode in through tall, eleaborte gold gates, ignoring the stares and whispers I received from other student milling about the school lawn. Just because I don’t wear yellow frilly dresses doesn’t make me a freak.
Does it? Okay, maybe I have a few self-esteem issues.
Grumbling as I examined the building - a pink as ugly as the yellow adorning it - I tried to orientate myself with the map I'd memories last night. Large double oak doors signalled the entrance to Administration, so I made haste towards them.
I trotted through too many long corridors before I finally got to the Principal’s office... late. Before you ask though - no. I didn’t get lost. I was just…exploring.
I knocked cautiously, easily slipping into the role of a nervous new student. "Please, come in." A seemingly kind male voice called.
Pushing open the door, I stepped into the room uneasily. The plush carpet, a pair of velvet seats and rich oak desk strategically placed within the room screamed wealth. "Miss Alexandria, I assume?" A man with greying hair stood up, offering me a hand and warm smile.
I shook it carefully, wary of the contact. "Yes, Mr…?" My sickeningly-sweet and deceiving voice asked. "Suou! Mr. Suou." He smiled again as he sunk back into the seat behind his desk.
So this man was Tamaki Suou's father? Interesting. That should make the objective even easier than I expected. "‘Please, sit!" He waved a careless hand at one of the soft seats. "From what I gather, you don’t have your schedule yet?" He continued to speak as I dropped my bag to the floor, being catious of the gun. I sank into the plush armchair and was nearly immediately swallowed in cushions.
"Here you go!" He finished sifting through paper, spinning a single sheet over and sliding it across the desk.
"Thank-you.’ I accepted the tabled-information, quickly read over it committing it to memory.
That's odd. All over my classes were in First Year, Class A.
"Are you in need of anything else? A guide perhaps?" He smiled at me hopefully. I didn't understand.
Men like that - easy-going, kind and compassionate - were easily crushed and easily manipulated. So was this nice-guy, best-teacher attitude he had couldn’t be real. Only a man with a backbone and a will of steel could sit on the throne of power and wealth he did.
"No, thank-you. I’m sure I’ll be fine." I gave him my most winning smile, rising gracefully to head to the door.
"Oh - and one more thing. Please be sure to attend Music Room Three where my son currently boasts his own club!’ Yuzuru beamed almost proudly, and I was unsure if that was how he really felt. Majority of men didn’t want their heirs to be frivolous idiots, they wanted them to be smart and well kept. So... shouldn’t he be displeased?
All of these fascades and illusions were giving me a headache.
"Yes, Mr. Suoh." I gave him a small smile, hiking up my shoulder-bag and quietly exiting the room.
This would be fun…especially if they had a metal detector like the last place.
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♔ a u t h o r ' s n o t e ♔
I have begun to edit this story! This ardous task may take me a little while, so please note any part like ♔__♔ is edited, and anything like [__] is unedited. However, please feel free to read on, my fellow OHSHC fans!
(also... if you spot any mistakes - and I mean ANY - that annoy the heck out of you, please feel free to leave me any angry-hunting-the-witch-with-a-pitchfork comments! ((I don't bite... figuratively)))