"So, this is it. The school for... hunters."
Possessing sharp and wavy hair, a teenager set foot upon a concrete sidewalk.
Groups of fluffy clouds raced through a cyan sky as they overshadowed a towering school.
Maybe, just maybe, this is how I can avenge them. As he walked further along the concrete path, which led to a set of two doors, a second figure came into view.
"Who are you?" The second individual stood next to the doors, his arms crossed over a white dress-shirt.
"Maximus D. Kaline, but you can just call me 'Max', I guess." The adolescent stood with excellent posture, setting his arms beside his olive colored jacket. With a smile, Max brushed a stray clump of hair behind his ear.
"I see. Well then, the name's 'Chimner'. Kyle Chimner. And I'm tough on new kids. Perhaps it's because I like to give newbies a hard time so they can get better with having a fire under their ass and all, or perhaps, I'm just a sadist!" Kyle, a bespectacled and blond student, stood near a pot of flowers as he uncrossed his arms. "You're early to your first day of school, rookie. That's a good habit to start off with. Also, jeez, that's a wildly stupid color to dye your hair."
Max's face went hot as he grabbed at the side of his long, red locks. "Wh- What? What do you- Oh. This. I was- Well, I was- I was born with it."
Frozen in stance over the hardened asphalt, Max never broke eye contact with Kyle.
"Well, that's impressive." Revealing a silver watch, Kyle slipped a plain backpack off of his shoulder. "I remember hearing a dirty myth about red-headed kids, once. Parents must've had unclean sex or-"
"Tsk! Shut up. Don't mention my parents." Once possessing a timid demeanor, Max now felt a sudden peeve of irritation.
His knuckles turned purple as both fists clenched in response to Kyle's comment.
Kyle's hair waved around some, his head turning left and right. "Hmph. You just told an upper-classman to shut up. Pretty bold of you, greenhorn. I like that. You've got spunk!"
Max turned his head to the side, staring at the pot of flowers. "I- Uh. I didn't think I'd get so emotionally compromised on my first day here, you know? My apologies, really!" His burgundy bangs falling over his eyes, he stole another look at Kyle's hairy wrist. "If it's not too intrusive to ask on my end, may I know where you got your watch? Looks pretty bourgeois!"
"Ugh. Shut up, newbie. Don't make me think about my parents." Kyle shook his head some more.
"Oh. Um. S- So, your watch has something to do with your parents t- too? Uh, sorry-"
"Nope, I'm just making fun of you." The right corner of Kyle's mouth perked up.
"Oh." Max took in a deep breath as the gaze of his eyes grew. This guy is pretty rude.
Kyle, cracking up, took out a piece of parchment from his backpack. "Do you have your schedule on you? I'd like to escort you to your first class of the day."
"Sure!" Max took out a crumbled sheet of paper from the pocket of his jeans, which emanated a blue like the deepest of oceans.
"Jeez! Your poor schedule."
"I mean, I didn't think to bring a backpack. This is a school for combat, right? Sounded sporty, so, I imagined we'd be in locker-rooms a lot."
"I guess you won't need a backpack very much after all, then. That's true."
"Also, why are you, like, helping me? I thought you wanted to give the 'new kids a hard time' or something like that."
"Because I know that new kids have difficulty finding their classes in a new environment, and I don't want you to be having a hard time with that because I want to be the one to give you a hard time, rookie. Make sense? Now, let's see- Oh! You have Ms. Meloncrop." Kyle stretched Max's paper out, squinting his eyes through the frames of his glasses.
"That's a name if there ever was one. Wow." Max whistled, closing his eyes for a brief moment.
"You're tellin' me. Anyway, I'm in that class this year, too, along with... Natalie Carwell."
"Natalie Carwell?"
Tracing his fingers over his tear-ducts, Kyle rose in his posture. Clearing his throat, he kept his eyes on Max as he stood in a tall, blue hallway. The two stood at a fork in the path, a sunroof beaming down onto them.
"Natalie Carwell. I didn't stutter."
"Well, why does she stand out to you?"
"Only 'cause she's the most beautiful girl here! Hotter than a 1000-degree blade over a grill at a cookout. Anyway, she's gained a slight reputation which lends her the name, 'The Screaming Petunia'."
Max stepped back, trying to stifle a chuckle as his lips went up regardless. "Th- The 'Screaming Petunia'?"
"Yes, the 'Screaming Petunia'."
"Uh, why-"
"Because... her way of winning against tenacious opponents is by being really fuckin' loud." Kyle closed his eyes as he spoke. "You have to see it with your own eyes, man. Those emeralds of yours will be put to the test trying to watch people duel in the arena."
"E- Emeralds?" Max's brow went up. "That's pretty -- I guess -- Complimentary of you to say, Kyle."
"Hmph. I don't even like emeralds."
"O- Oh." Max slumped his shoulders, rolling his eyes. "Of course you don't."
Kyle took in a deep breath, then signaled for Max to follow behind him as the two walked into the school.
"You know, I actually like your fashion-sense, even if it's a bit overdone. Perhaps it's very overdone." Kyle spoke up again, his larynx going up and down. "You're almost too spiffy, ya know? Green jacket, white shirt with buttons -- I think I even see a grey vest under there, even -- and that hair! Ha! Wait a minute. Do you ever have the decency to fuckin' match? Every color on you is extremely different." The student cackled as he sped down a hall which had many windows.
"Oh yeah?" Max bit his bottom lip and squinted his eyelids. "Well, your backpack has too many dumb zippers!"
Kyle whipped his head around. "You can never have enough zippers."
"Uh-"
"Never."
Max shook his head as he made it into a room with a giant, wooden sign above its door. Man, this guy is so annoying.
As Kyle stood beside him, Max noticed a buxom girl. Wearing a form-fitting dress, the third student approached them through the door-frame. The fruit-like colors of her dress could've assisted her in standing out among the crowd, but the lack of a very populated room, in the first place, proved a stark reality.
Her eyes, a bright blue, gazed upon Max's face.
"Kyle? Who's this?" The girl's gaze never fell away from Max.
"This is Max. He's a new student here." Kyle pointed with his thumb and shrugged.
The stares of the two kids burned into Max's skin. He tried not to make eye contact with any one of them.
His gaze followed a series of skid marks which rested on the vapid, vanilla floor as the ceiling of the classroom reflected the coating of a dark, blue paint.
"You never really escort the new kids to their first class of the day unless... you see potential in them." The girl inhaled. "Oh. Oh! Wow, I'm impressed. Well, hi Max. My name's Natalie." The young woman put her hand out.
"Hi," Max shook her hand. "I'm Maximus D. Kaline."
"What's the 'D' stand for?" A fourth voice broke into the conversation.
An enormous afro rustled from the back of the classroom. Coming down from that fell a figure so hidden by a laptop that Max almost didn't see the individual when he entered. With a freckled face to contrast the wiry hair, this stranger introduced himself by getting up from his desk with a slow fashion. He had such bad posture that, at first, Max thought he didn't even have a chest.
"My name's Tony. Tony the Hunter. One day, I wanna make my own cereal company! In the meantime, though, I guess I'll just settle for gettin' good at bein' a hunter. Hahaha."
Max nodded, furrowing his brow. "A respectable goal-"
"Man, I can just tell that we're all gonna be good friends soon enough." Natalie smiled, clasping her hands together.
Max scratched the back of his head, trying to force a smile. "Uh. It seemed to me like you already knew Kyle, though. Heh."
"I did." Natalie nodded, unfolding her hands. "But not exactly Tony, nor you."
"Ah, yup. That'll do it then." Max sighed, a genuine blush spreading over his nose and cheeks.
Kyle looked to the entrance of the classroom, where he and Max had entered, with a charging zeal. "Well, what are we waiting for? Titanium Corps Academy is a combat school. And newsflash, newcomer, there really are only four kids in this class. What you're seeing right now is what you're gonna get. It shouldn't be a surprise that not many kids go to combat schools. In fact, all the classes here only ever have a handful of students, if that. Now, let's not waste any time, I wanna go to the arena already."
"Uh, already?" Max shifted with hesitation, his rosewood hair whipping about.
"Yeah, I'm with Max on this one, actually. Where's Ms. Meloncrop?" Tony cowered back towards his seat.
"In the arena already, you doofus." Kyle crossed his arms and scowled Tony down through his glasses. "You yourself aren't really a new student, are you? I thought you'd know by now. Teachers like to begin classes in the arena, not even commencing any kind of 'roll-call' in their classes prior."
"Well, I guess that'd make sense, but I don't know." Tony shook a little. "All my teachers last year never did that. Maybe Ms. Meloncrop is just the slightest bit impulsive? Maybe?"
Kyle pushed the bridge of his glasses up his nose. "I'm a little impulsive. And I say we should head to the arena. I wanna mess with those Cobalt Katanas again. Or, how about the Bauxite Guns! Maybe break something with a Mistral Shield. You boys ready for the thrill of a lifetime?"
Max felt apprehensive and looked to Tony.
In the next moment, however, he produced a toothy grin as he faced Kyle. "Yeah, I guess I'm ready. I came to this school for a reason, after all."
"I like that kind of talk, stranger. You're finally starting to impress me. Mind me asking what that reason is?" Kyle patted his new classmate on the back.
"To... avenge my parents."
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