Run Over Chapter 2.9

Bring Me Up
Chapter 2 Part 9

Both good and bad news awaited me.

The good news. My thieving skills did not worsen enough, for Fushimi to notice me. He called me out of the school because of Tanabe's, his girlfriend's, request, and noticed me only after our exchange.

The bad news. Force was applied to me faster than I expected. Without further conversation, Fushimi brought me to the back of the school and without any words drowned his fist in my solar plexus. How did I get into this situation? The pain was spreading through my body, and I lost track of time. A-a-ah, sh*t.

"Couldn't you have talked first, and then hit?"

My body ached in pain. I lifted the corners of my mouth and squeezed out a smile. A-a-ah, I should've at least done my crunches.

Suppressing the pain, I opened my mouth… and another blow hit me in the stomach. My insides whined from the sharp pressure. The feelings in the place of impact sharpened, and I felt a furious pulse there.

"In cla.s.s you usually keep silent, and now do not blabber."

I tried to block the blow to my face with my left hand. I felt pain and the rubbing of my school uniform against my skin. The blow was done in a too sweepy manner, but I didn't manage to block or dodge it. The hand took the second and third stroked. They were so strong that they could have broken a bone.

The pulse sped up, and the skin on my left arm became numb. I breathed heavily. The blood flowed from my hand and everything swam before my eyes. I tried to inhale, for a moment loosened my stand…. and at that moment Fushimi's left hand flew into my forehead. He didn't hit with his dominant hand therefor not with his full strength, but I still unwillingly squinted and swayed.

I recoiled two-three steps and collapsed, reflexively throwing my hands before me. And here I felt a kick, Fushimi drowned his foot in my stomach. My guts were terribly twisted. For a moment I became breathless, I then buried my face in the ground and coughed heavily, there was a tickling pain in my throat from the sand that had gotten into it.

Fushimi's legs were before my eyes, and when I slowly looked up, I was his smirk. He was waiting for me to get up with a sneer, like a cat playing with a mouse. Why do I have to endure this? Because I didn't take Tanabe seriously? "Sorry, I'll stop talking with Minato." Is this what I was supposed to say? So I had to obey the order of the one that ridiculed me? And then again, why was I even ridiculed?

I didn't regret anything, I didn't feel bad, I just detachedly thought about it.

Fushimi, looking at me from above, crouched down and pulled out a jackknife. The blade hardly reached five centimetres, a trifle. Fushimi turned the knife around with his left hand. What an idiot.

Why am I being beaten by such an idiot? Why am I not hitting back? Why do I have to endure? What will happen if I answer? Malice would spill over the edge. Exactly, answer him. No. I'm always angry. Why am I being beaten, why?

And I will be okay with it? Why? Why do I have to endure this garbage that just infuriates, infuriates, infuriates, infuriates, infuriates, infuriates, infuriates, me.

I rested both my palms on the ground and tore my face from it. My palms got covered in dust. The blood rushed back into my brain, and the picture before my eyes flickered and brightened, this is how the consciousness clouds in videogames. I was mad. I saw the smirk on Fushimi's face. He infuriated me. Fushimi put the knife into his pocket and clenched his fist again, and then, as soon as I somehow got to my feet, he came up close and drove his fist into my stomach.

But the pocket, in which he put the knife, was right by my right hand.

My hand.

At that moment my mind cleared and time stopped.

I.

Took out the knife and with all my might drove it into Fushimi's right leg. All, that I was feeling with my right hand, blocked out everything else, even m.u.f.fling the dull pain in my stomach. The formal trousers tore, and the knife protruded from the leg of the monster that angered me. The blade turned out to be dull and therefore did not break through the flesh, but rather just pierced a hole in it.

When I loosened my grip on the hilt, from the small wound, which, it seemed, couldn't even hold the knife in it, gushed out blood, forming a stain on the trousers. The stain slowly grew, and soon a thin band stretched from the fabric.

Fushimi stiffened and shivered convulsively. He tried to lower his head. On the contrary, I, slowly lifted his – and saw that Fushimi's face expressed horror. I perfectly understood him, and so the corners of my mouth rose. In the depths of my mind, m.u.f.fled hands clapped. When I took the knife out, Fushimi desperately started looking for it in his own pockets. He idiotically turned out his pockets and, finding no weapon there, grimaced as if he were about to howl. Fushimi didn't notice, that I'm holding the knife, right under his nose.

However, he could suddenly notice the loss of his own smartphone. Anyway, I couldn't leave it at that. I lifted the hand with the knife over my head. Sent it down. Fushimi tried to dodge, and the point of the knife struck his belt.

The knife bounced back and fell with a clatter. In an attempt to pick it up, I lost my balance and collapsed back onto the ground. My head was incredibly heavy. From the corner of my eyes, I noticed that Fushimi fled.

My body didn't move. There was no one around, and I was completely exhausted. My hands and legs didn't move. Everything mixed up in my head. I only had enough strength to turn face up, just so dirt wouldn't get into my mouth.

Now I was annoyed by the clouds of dust, dancing around in the wind and trying to get into my eyes.

I scratched the ground with my fingers.

Useless.

In my field of view, I only saw the school's slanted building, a tree with wide leaves and a cloud-covered sky.

My head completely emptied.

The pain in the beaten places gradually increased. Once I tried to get angry again, I heard approaching footsteps. My head lay on the hard ground, and the sounds were delivered straight to my skull.

"Uh… hey… I-Dzono… kun, how are you?" I heard from above.

I was looked at by a student, who was used as a punching bag.

"Ah, Hara." He must have followed me. "Give me your hand. I can't get up."

I raised my left hand, and Hara pulled it on himself, but weakly and sluggishly, so I stood on my feet and nearly fell back again, and Hara had to support me.

"Sorry."

"N-no… I-it's fine, let's sit somewhere."

Hara, whose height was around a hundred and sixty centimetres, literally dragged me on himself. Without his support, things could've ended much worse, this way I at least won't die here. I felt completely broken, but somehow I kept walking. Having stumbled over to the school with me, Hara headed for the club building.

What club is this guy in? I can't remember for the life of me.

We slowly walked up the hallway on the first floor and stopped at one of the rooms. The sign on the door read "Literary Club". Understood, it's the very thing for Hara. He turned the handles and pushed the wooden door.

It opened with a nasty creak.

Inside was a pretty surprised Minato.

***

"What… Idzono-kun, there's no living place left on you… are you ok?"

A shabby long table, rust-covered chairs made of iron pipes, a crumpled metal rack with books, formed the whole atmosphere of the literary club. And from the people there were only Minato, Hara and I. In short, the room had a simple interior, and to be honest – it was tasteless and battered.

"You're… what, in a literary club?"

"No, not at all. Instead tell me about yourself, how are you?" Minato asked with such an expression on her face that I couldn't tell whether she was worried or not.

"I'm exhausted."

"It doesn't look like you're just exhausted. What happened?"

I was called out of the school, got beaten up, my attacker fled, and before that I cleaned out his pockets right in school.

I wonder what's interesting enough to tell? Except for the fight.

"I don't even know where to start…" I glanced at Hara telling him to explain what happened.

"Ah, that, I'll…go…get the first aid kit."

He ran away. Hara disappeared behind the door, which was used unusually often recently. A fluorescent lamp, which dangled from the ceiling in a room that was hungry for sunlight, was covered in a layer of dirt and therefore shone very dimly on us.

"Well, it's not really 'what did I do?' More precisely, it's 'am I really still whole?'"

"You were beaten for no reason?"

"Why these questions?"

"No, just wondering. Oh, yeah, what's with the phone?"

Having remembered about the smartphone, I took it out of my pocket. I clicked on the Home b.u.t.ton of the aluminum case of the fashion device with an apple sign, and waited until the screen lit up. A pa.s.sword request popped up.

"Oooh." Minato got up from her chair and approached me. Without much difficulty she took away the smartphone from my exhausted hand and ran her finger across the screen. For some time, the girl was messing around with the device.

"You did well." Saying so, Minato patted my head from behind while I was sitting.

“Pain, pain go away! Eheheh!”

Come to think of it…

She didn't say these things for nothing. She forced me to steal it with threats, and if you untwist the logical chain, she became the main reason that I was beaten by Fushimi. But with all this Minato kept stroking my head, as if calming down a child. She did not apologize and didn't show a single bit of worry about my wounds. She probably thinks that I'll just forgive her. Or she just doesn't care, that I'll get angry.

Pain pulsed in the beaten places, and it was as if the places that Minato touched were getting numb.

"Oh, this Fushimi-kun." Minato wrapped my head in her palms. "Let's beat him up."

Exactly. It seemed to me that this sounded quite good.

Minato, who was still standing behind me, put her left hand on my head, and her right on my shoulder. I don't know what expression she had on her face, I couldn't see. She was probably smiling. When Minato stabbed Tanabe's hand, the corners of her mouth raised slightly. Then, she was smiling for sure.