I perched in the tree, enjoying the soft wind blowing my hair. The pages of my text book fluttered as I finished pages and pages of math methodically.
"Aleeeeex!" A voice sung from below.
I sighed. This objective was turning into some freak-nightmare.
"What the hell do you want now?" I groaned, dropping down to hang upside down from my knees on my branch. Tamaki’s eyes appeared upside down—again—too close to my own.
"Tamaki! Personal space!" I growled before dropping to the ground like a ninja, ready to rip into him with harsh words rather than hands.
"Hey, that was your own fault that time—not mine!" He whimpered, looking hurt as I tried to loom over the taller boy. ‘Why don’t you like me?’
I paused for a moment, considering his words before shaking my head to clear it.
"Ha, I never said I didn’t like you—" I fixed my ponytail with a hand as I stared him down, "—You just inferred that I did."
"So you like me?!" He assumed happily, and began to throw his arms around me, but thought better of it and dropped them to his sides.
Silence hung heavy for a few moments, but he reminded me suspiciously of a puppy wagging his tail expectantly.
"Well?" I asked impatiently after a moment. "What do you want?"
"Can I host for you?" His puppy eyes grew even bigger, his sookiness almost breaking the laws of physics. And I didn’t know how long lunchbreaks were, but this one was certainly taking ages. Enough for him to 'Host', by the looks of things.
"Host?" I mimicked, my brain rapidly leaping to the conclusion of empty rooms and easy kidnappings.
"Here—I’ll show you!" He grabbed my hand, and propelled me over to his picnic towel forcefully, surprisingly strong in his grip.
And, well, so much for getting used to not touching me.
"Sit," Tamaki ordered, so I sprawled across silky fabric, watching the clouds. I was still out in the open, so I was in no position to apprehend the target. So, I may as well captitalize on the comfort Tamaki was so naively offering.
Screw sitting — why sit when you could nap?
"Cross your legs, silly. Princesses sit with their legs together." He nudged my shin with his boot.
"Do I look like a princess to you? And besides —I’m comfy here." I mumbled, my eyes drooping almost immediately.
"Hey, don’t go to sleep!" Tamaki cried. "Haruhi, Haruhi! What do I do, she's going to sleep!?"
"Wow, it almost sounds like you're dealing with an unnatural phenomenon," was Haruhi’s dry reply as he appeared above me, leaning over into my bleary line of sight. "And senpai, the other girls are going to be here soon. You need to finish getting ready, rather than entertaining and guest who doesn't want to be entertained."
"But just quickly! Quickly!" Tamaki begged.
Haruhi sighed, and rearranged his kimono. "Alex."
"What?" I groaned without cracking open an eye. "I didn’t do anything..."
"You may want to pay attention, or he’ll go sulk in a corner until you appease him." Haruhi scoffed and turned away again. "And if he does that, the girls will be disappointed. And if they're disappointed..." He ambled away, muttering something about black-hearted treasurers and debts.
"You know what, Tamaki?" I asked sleepily.
"What is it, my Princess?" He answered exuberantly, rapidly pouring tea and gathering sweets in a race against my sleepiness.
"Haruhi looks just as pretty as a girl," I mumbled, and drifted off to sleep.
︻┳═一 ❀ 一═┳︻
It was the same as always.
A man whose face I couldn't see read a story to an Alex much smaller than I perched on his knee. A similar woman walked out onto the isolated porch and ruffled my hair, murmuring to the man. They laughed together, laughing for ages.
Even though I knew what was coming, the black void that began gaping where their mouths should be still froze me with terror. My tiny body refused to move, to scream, to call for help as fire engulfed their papery skin.
Burning fingers reached for my face, and charred flesh caressed my cheek in a parody of a parent's affection.
In vain, I tried to leap to my feet and run from these human bonfires, but found I was suddenly strapped to a steel pallet, in a different room.
The burning parents had vanished, leaving in their place an even more horrific being.
I could see from my peripherals that the wheeled pallet was heading for a silver-faced room, with a weird symbol on the doors. But my eyes were fixed on the green-scrubbed man looming above me, pushing my prone body through the hallway. I actually might not be able to call him a man, seeing as there was only an empty space where his head should have been.
And I screamed.
︻┳═一 ❀ 一═┳︻
"Ale-chan! Ale-chan!" A worried voice broke through my nightmare with a shout, and I felt hands shaking my shoulders.
"Wh—" I tried to form a question, but found my throat was raw to make more than a squeak.
"Ale-chan? Are you okay?" The boy asked again.
I managed to peel my eyes open with a great effort, only to be affronted with seven concerned faces staring down at me.
"Shit!" I yelled and leapt up, backing away from the ambiguous group of kimono clad boys. Who were they? Where was I?
And the events of earlier slammed into my mind.
"Crap. Sorry," I muttered sheepishly, losing my fighting stance along with my fear.
"Are you okay? You started to scream and writhe around like you were having the most horrible dream." Kaoru rose from his crouch, popping his hands on his hips.
"I’m fine." I rubbed my shoulder, turning my face away as I shook away the remnants of my nap. In Zac Efron's grounding words - I need to get my head in the game.
"You didn’t sound fine," Kyoya shot back listlessly. "Generally speaking, people don't scream in their sleep."
"It was just a dream," I snapped coolly. "And I apologise for falling sleep in the first place." I ran a hand through my messy ponytail, quickly turning to offer the Host Club a half-bow.
How weak are you? I reprimanded myself viciously while batting back Kyoya's comments. How fucking weak?!
"You seemed really tired, Ale-chan." Hani interrupted his Kyo-chan after a while, sidling up and hugged me, seeming to think he was helping.
"I’m fine." I ground out again, squirming in his grasp and bending down to gather my stuff, the touch of those things still fresh in my mind. "Just a bit tired, y'know?" I added when I realised how harsh I sounded - nothing like a normal Ouran student.
"We’re here for you, you know?" Tamaki supported kindly, and moved to replace Hani in my arms.
"I said I was fine! I don’t know you, you don’t know me. Got it?" I burst out, embarrassment, disappointment and self-loathing overcoming me and my sense of duty.
"Alex—"
"Save it. It’s not your problem. It’s mine." I shouldered my bag, piling my books into one arm. It was irresponsible of me to leave a freaking loaded sniper rifle around like that. It was irresponsible of me to sleep so idly. It was irresponsible of me to endanger my objective like this.
"You probably—"
"I apologise for causing problems regarding the Host Club," I said, finally realising the crush of girls milling around in hushed groups and sitting daintily on blankets. "In the future, I shall be more careful in my participation."
Bowing sharply, I turned on my heel to walk away, passing clumps of girls eyeing me curiously, impatiently waiting for their turn with each of the popular boys. I was doing what all professionals did best when they fucked up -- running away.
Well, not running away. Making a calculated retreat with intentions to regroup.
"But Alex! Come back!" Tamaki called and rose as if to follow me, but I quickened my pace and dashed out of the grassed area, running past fountains, running through buildings.
Eventually I found the glittering front gates again, and I jogged through it, not even blinking when a sleek black Mercedes pulled up beside me.
"School isn't over yet," My sector supervisor, Jacob Felwright, snapped when he rolled the window down.
"My report is ready now," I snarled, throwing my things in the back before following them in.
"Status?" Jacob ignored my tone and pulled away from the curb at a speed that would've made Flash jealous.
Ah, always starting with the friggen status report.
"E-level security, a few personal guards monitoring individuals. Many teachers, none on duty or watching students on break."
"Suou?"
"Father works as Principal. President of the Host Club, no guards. Very whimsical, happy. Doesn't suspect anything."
"Understood. Anything else?" We turned into a dark alleyway, and accelerated towards the bricked end. Experience had taught me not to flinch, common sense still made me want to.
I thought of Honey’s bright smile and Haruhi’s sarcasm, watching as the bricks opened just wide enough for a single car to pass into the 'wall'.
"No, sir." The yawning abyss of a darkened driveway leading down below the road mocked my answer, and my lips curved into a wry smile.
"Good. When will you be ready?"
"Whenever you are."
︻┳═一 ❀ 一═┳︻
Finally back in my room after a long afternoon, I managed to salvage my phone from under my bed and sat back to rubbed my abused muscles.
I'd taken another self-defence session after returning to the compound, and was well prepared for any more man-handling. But it bloody hurt, and felt like my biceps were committing suicide a million times over in increasingly creative and painful ways.
Dragging myself up enough to flop onto my bed, I observed my undecorated cement walls, my white cupboard and a steel framed double bed.
I absentmindedly noted that the hellhole was in serious need of redecorating, as it had been for the last sixteen years.
Grumbling things about IKEA and sale Sundays under my breath, I dragged my school books up onto my bed and started to study.
Surprisingly, I was fanatic about my ‘A’ for every subject, which was probably not a skill train killers valued. But hey, when I was smaller I hadn’t even been able to read a book. Now though, education was everything—and when I could get my hands onto a laptop with Wi-Fi, jeez, I graduated so many online courses.
Education equals money. Money equals wealth. Wealth equals power.
And I needed power to achieve my goals.
"'lil Cat?" A brisk knock at my door accompanied a familiar voice, interrupting my learning and consequently my power plans.
"'sup Des? I didn’t realise it was dinner already." I rolled back off the bed and onto the floor, crawling over to crack open the door suspiciously.
"What in the everliving hells are you doing on the ground?" His fist was poised to knock again when my silver-haired friend looked down in shock at me.
"Having a damn party, obviously." I stood up, brushing of my black tracksuit pants as I pushed open the door fully. Not exactly dressed for an early dinner, I was only wearing ratty trackies and hot pink bra - complete with red creases on my stomach from where I'd been lying.
Nothing says hoe like rocking up to dinner with me, amirite?
"And why didn’t you invite me?" But Desmind so kindly chose not to mention my predicament with a grin, moving out of the door way so I could step out.
"’Cause you're a dork." I rolled my eyes as he unzipped his Nike jacket and draped it over my shoulders, locking my door behind me.
"But you love it," he teased with a grin, nudging my shoulder with his as I smiled indulgently and began down the hallway.
"Hmm... that's questionable..." I teased back, enjoying our mindless bickering as we walked.
Okay, maybe I didn’t hate one particular man—Desmond had been the only guy who’d actually stood up for me when I had been brought in.
There were rumours that used to circulate through the compound that I'd been found in an empty house as a kid. Unconscious, unrecognisable and covered in blood. I'd only been about three or four—none of my personal information had been around for the squad to definitely know. And the man who had found me—my supervisor—had taken me in, training me as I got older to be an assassin, spy, murderer, a criminal.
I guess it could've been worse - starving to death as a snotty nosed brat wasn't really high on my to-do list.
But, S.H.A.D.O.W and co wouldn’t have of even known my name, if it wasn't for a small pair of labelled socks that I'd been conveniently wearing.
Thank god for the small mercies. Like not being named Mary Sue.
"—the repercussions?" Des finished, looking at me with wide eyes as we made it to the set of double doors hiding the cafeteria.
"Huh?" I made a conscious effort to focus on Des’ verbal dribble rather than my edgy past.
"Have you thought about the repercussions?" He repeated with a sigh, rubbing his temples in obvious annoyance.
"The repercussions about what?" I flipped my hair over my shoulder as I surveyed the bustling metal tables, searching for an empty one. Or one that had less people I didn't like sitting at it.
"About you taking on this objective! If you’re caught—it’s game over. You'd be locked up for the rest of your life! For the love of God, just let one of the older guys do it. At least they don’t have their whole lives ahead of them if they fuck up." Desmond frowned as we wove through our colleagues to the food bar, my friend trying to side-eye me and sneak food onto my tray.
"First of all, you think I'm gonna fuck up?!" I challenged and plucked up my fave nonchalantly - a lightly toasted, warm bun that was just begging to be slathered in Nutella.
"No, no, that wasn't - "
"And, there's no way in hell the older guys would fit into Ouran Academy." I rolled my eyes, feigning fluffing out a skirt as Des groaned.
No one except me knew about the real deal that my supervisor had made with the higher-ups—if I can pull this off, I’m home free.
Released.
Gone.
Never to come back to this dump.
I glanced up from under my lashes at my silver-haired buddy guiltily. Well, sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, I guess. And the poor guy didn't need to be stuck with me for the rest of his life.
"Look, Alex! A chicken!" Des suddenly cried and scared the shit outta me, making me whip my head in the direction of his pointing finger.
"What? There’s no chick—jeez, I’m not eating that." I turned back to my platter, and glared at an offending fruit salad, steak sandwich and vanilla yoghurt. "I don't know why I always fall for that," I muttered to myself and put them all back where they belonged. Off my plate.
"But you need to eat more—especially if you’re serious about studying." He wheedled and swiped an iced-donut to slide my way. "Not to mention training. You and I both know you can't keep putting me flat on my back without the proper sustenance."
I just shook my head and stepped away after nabbing the tub of chocolaty goodness, spying a wall-table that'd be just right for me. Making my way over with a high nose, cold glare and curled lip, men scurried to get out of our way.
You bet my ass they were scared. Fuckers.
"One friggen Nutella roll isn’t going to sustain you," Des was still persisting as he pulled a chair out for me. "One day you're going to keel over and I'm just gonna say a big fat I Told You So at your funeral."
"Really?" I feigned surprise, and took a gigantic bite, the literal food of the gods oozing out of the sides.
"Oh, look. The bitch is still here," A nasty voice sneered from across the room, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
The entire hall fell into silence, the constant murmuring coming to an abrupt halt. There was only one motherfucker stupid enough to mess with me.
"Aaaaaand the silver haired freak. What a sweet couple." The speaker was of average build, toted crew cut and was flipping a knife in his hand. How edgy.
Honestly, Jack made me wanna puke my guts all over his grandma's grave.
But, I didn't, and chose instead to clench my teeth and fix him with a stare that would've shrivelled the penis of any lesser man. "You—"
"Fuck off the hell off, Jack." Desmond snapped instead, his knuckles whitening on the table as he interrupted me.
Okay, first of all - rude. Second of all,
Desmond what the fuck are you doing, boy?!
"You gonna make me, pipsqueak?" Despite Desmond being tall and lanky with no muscle to brag about, Jack’s only real talent lay with maths and weaponry.
And Des did have quite a few tricks.
Which meant…
"Desmond—don’t!" I yelled as he leapt straight from the table, tackling Jack—who was leaning languidly on the side of the opposite table—in a matter of seconds.
"I knew you’d do that." Jack snickered, being held up of the ground against the wall by a much taller, much angrier Des. He just couldn't keep a cool head!
Well shit.
I assessed the situation quickly—Jack was obviously carrying one of his newest. None of the bystanders would get in his way, probably not even the supervisor when he rocked on in well and truly after the fight.
So, all and all, Des was screwed if I didn't do something. He's a freaking sniper - not a combatant!
"Des. Put him down," I ordered lowly and rose from my dinner, stalking slowly towards the men.
"Yeah, prissy boy, put me down." Jack mimicked in a high voice. My voice wasn't even that high.
Desmond slacked his grip only to slam him into the wall again with a sickening crack. "He was disrespectful," he growled at me, before crowding Jack again. "Apologise to her!"
"I said —" Time slowed as I watched Jack lift a wicked, twin-bladed rapier from the small of his back, aiming for a head shot.
Oh, you've gotta be fucking kidding me!
I leapt onto the table, launching my body straight at Des and knocking him to the ground.
A sharp pain blossomed in my side—as I had jumped, the rapier had only wedged itself in my side, and not my head.
Small mercies, I grumbled to myself and fought not to scream.
Groaning, I rolled off Des and raised hesitant fingers to my right side. The small touch hurt like hell, and a warm, sticky blood coated my hand.
"What a great blade!" I heard Jack exclaim from someplace far away, before something like a punch shut him up.
Only mildly concerned now the urge to scream had passed, I raised my fingers my face. The red that dripping between them was morbidly fascinating. Kinda like being unable to tear your eyes away from a car crash.
Yikes.
"Alex!" Someone whispered softly, and I glanced upwards with a great deal of effort.
"Des, stop worrying," I tried to laugh, but it came up as a strangled gasp. Shit, this was probably why I had an aversion to being stabbed.
It certainly wasn't a walk in the park, as my side attested to.
"Don’t close your eyes! Don’t you dare!" He whispered again with his mouth wide open, tears filling his green eyes.
"Jack! You’re dead!" A much louder voice boomed, and I just saw Des wince out of my hazy vision.
But next thing I knew, more warmth splattered on my face and blood mixed with the sweat on ears Des' face.
Another person appeared above me.
Jacob? I knew this bitch wouldn't show up 'til the end credits were rolling.
"I need a doctor. She needs to be stitched up before tomorrow!" His voice started to fade, and a strong need to sleep overwhelmed me. Kinda like under the cherry trees this afternoon, except, y'know, I've been stabbed.
My lids started to drop, and my shoulders shook violently as another round of coughing ripped itself out of me.
"No!" The softest whisper reached my ears before I lost consciousness.
︻┳═一 ❀ 一═┳︻
"You gave us quite a scare," A grey-haired doctor informed me coolly when I opened my eyes again. "To be honest, I’m surprised that you didn’t die from blood loss."
"What can I say. I just have so much to look forward to," I replied dryly and peered around the room disorientedly. It looked like one of the special clinics in underground Tokyo, set aside for severely injured S.H.A.D.O.W. members.
"And you should heal up fine too, with barely any damage to that lily white skin." He sounded almost condescending in his speel, and I narrowed my eyes uncomfortably.
"Good."
Someone better come save this doctor before his tone lead me to castrate him.
"Leave us," the doctor's savior came in the form of Jacob's angry voice, which was deterrence enough for the both of us.
He nodded once, before gathering up his tools and heading towards the door. "Just remember, no strenuous movement for - "
"If you'll excuse us?" Jacob asked forcefully, and moved to hold the door open for the doctor.
Oh yeah, strenuous movment. Like I'd be able to do any of that, frolicking around with pampered children who'd probably never even touched gym equipment before.
(And a stab wound right under my left titty. But that's besides the point.)
As soon as Jacob had slammed the door shut, he stomped over to my bed and glared down at me.
"Why'd you do that?" He ran his hands through his brown hair, worrying the thick strands between his fingers.
"Do what?" I asked exasperatedly.
"Get stabbed!" He snapped in frustration, waving his hand in the air as if to say No Duh.
"Oh yeah, because I just love being stabbed so much I go out of my way to antagonise psychotic freaks!" I snapped back.
"But why the bloody hell did you get in the way?!" He yelled, pacing across the room. "You're nimble enough to dodge Jack, blindfolded!"
"Because Jack was going to kill Des!" I yelled back.
"He wouldn't have killed him."
"You didn't see the hight of that swipe!"
"And that’s why you got hit in the side? Please, you’re so short it would have whizzed right above your head if it was a KO."
"I jumped off a table, you moron!"
"You jumped off a bloody table?" He seemed to grow even angrier.
"Yes, yes. Now leave me alone!" I growled and let the pillows envelope my head again. This conversation was getting nowhere. Not when he was so adamant in the weapon manager's innocence.
"I'm not—"
"I said, leave me alone!"
After a moment of silence, I heard the stomp of heavy boots as they stalked out of my room. At least the rapier hadn’t given me a headache like that guy did.
But I'm sure the Host Club would - if they saw this mess, at least. Resolving myself to lay low next time I went to school, I closed my eyes and sought sleep again.