Lacerations

In the apartments neighboring Datian's, they were treated to an afternoon full of clinking, banging and a not so occasional swear. Nearly the entire complex, while unsure of the tomboy's full identity, had some idea of what she was. They had seen the visits to her apartment from all sorts of unsavory types. Sounds of people raucously yelling in amusement, sometimes fists being thrown, the smell of cigarettes, were all common sounds to hear at all hours of the day. A symphony of vileness that even some adults would be hard pressed to stand, let alone a bunch of kids. Many of the residents wanted to call the police, but never did for fear of violent retaliation.

Unfortunately for many of them, this sort of disturbing noise making was a new experience. The din of clanging metal and the odor of some kind of smoke not belonging to cigarettes for once, did little to soothe people's anxiety. One of the bolder residents, a middle aged woman who had raised a couple difficult children herself, decided to steel herself to do what nobody else would do and see what the problem child next door was up to.

Tentatively knocking on the door, she heard a litany of curses even she hadn't heard before. As the door creaked open, the woman had difficulty keeping her features in check. The tomboy she had seen a few times had her face and clothes covered in bits of egg, rice and other assorted mashed up pieces of food. But what truly disturbed her was the girl's hands. Multiple cuts and a bruised knuckle, most likely given out of frustration, were angrily pulsing and dripping as Daitan held the door open.

"What do you want, old woman", Daitan growled.

Harrumphing to clear her throat, "I was just wondering what it is you're getting up to. You're causing an awful lot of racket again."

"And this surprises you?"

What surprised the woman more was practically the entire conversation. Any other time someone tried to get the girl's attention, they were either ignored, or found themselves getting screamed at or threatened in some way. Instead, the supposed punk was simply talking to her. Albeit, her manners and tone of voice needed work, but any sense of cordiality was most unexpected.

"No", the woman recovered, "It's just that I was wondering what's causing all the noise and-"

"Don't worry", Daitan interrupted, "I'll be done soon and you can go back to being a miserable hag in your preferred silence."

With no further ado, the door slammed in the woman's face and she was left on the doorstep , completely red in the face at the girl's utter lack of respect. But the question still remained, what on earth was she doing that made her hands bleed so much?

...

The next day at school, people seemed to be avoiding Daitan even more than they usually did. One look at her told them all they needed to know in terms of approaching her. Of course, that didn't change how they usually saw her. It wasn't an uncommon sight to see the young punk with some kind of bruise or sometimes a busted knuckle, but seeing her hands so cut up was a new one. A sight that brought all sorts of suspicions.

"Hey, Sis", her friend Shiro called out, "Regular place for lunch today?"

Daitan stopped in the middle of her stride but didn't turn around, "Uh, not today, Shiro. I got something I need to take care today."

Shiro's face scrunched in confusion, "What the hell could you possibly have to-", she stopped when she walked around and looked at her captain's hands. Seeing the various lacerations was nothing new to her, but what she had in her hands was a different story.

"Dai, why do have a lunch bag with you?"

The tall girl shifted the baggy as if trying to make it disappear, "I've been eatin' a lot of junk lately. Figured I'd try my hand at cooking. And I just felt kind of industrious and decided to start making a lunch."

Shiro narrowed her eyes in scrutiny, "Dai, you're a lot of things, but a chef isn't one of them."

"Who says I can't try something new?"

"You hate cooking and everything that comes with it. Remember that one time a couple of us bunked at your place? You were so bad at cooking that you couldn't even make toast right. ?You even told us you'd rather rob a fast food place than cook yourself."

As Shiro continued to talk, Daitan could feel her palms becoming sweaty. She tried thinking of a way to exit the conversation that would get her best friend off her trail, but knowing who she was talking to, fat chance. While Shiro usually preferred to settle things with the metal bat she usually carried, she was by no means stupid.

"Look, I just made a lunch that I'm not getting to eat right now and if we keep on talking here, we're both going to miss out. Just go on without me and I'll see you a bit later, alright", Daitan tried to placate.

A look of skepticism and scrutiny passed over Shiro's face as she bounced her eyes back and forth between Daitan and the sack in her hands. Light of possible realization dawned.

"That motherf***er", she exclaimed, "Is he extorting you?"

Stepping forward to hold up a silencing hand, "Shut up, stupid. Do you want the whole d**n school to hear you shrieking?"

"That skinny little twink. Ever since that day where you went off those yakuza guys calling shots for the Kusakabe guys, we've been seeing a lot less of you. But a few of the girls said they saw you walking around with that pathetic excuse for a human. What's going on? Is he blackmailing you or something?"

"What on earth are you on about", Daitan's voice cracked. This just had to be one of the times that Shiro noticed little details.

"What do you mean, what am I on about? All that stuff happens and for whatever reason, you end up hanging around that guy. He's got you making him lunches now. Did he threaten to report you to the principal if you didn't play ball?"

One of Daitan's hands shot out to grab Shiro's arm, "Enough with the d**n conpsiracy theories Shiro."

"Sis, I swear, if that guy is trying to mess with you in any way, I will personally talk some sense into him."

Daitan cringed knowing that Shiro's 'sense' usually left people completely senseless when she was finished.

"Look, whatever you're thinking, stop right now. This is my problem and I'll deal with it my own way. Just do what's best for everyone and stay away for once."

The shorter girl stumbled backwards in shock. Her mouth trembled as she tried to formulate what could pass as human speech, "Sis, you-"

"Ugh, look at the time. You made me waste too much time, and now almost half of lunch is over."

Shaking her head, Daitan weaved past the stunned girl who simply stared at what she believed to be her fearless leader's back slowly become further away. Her throat was constricting as she thought about the anxiety inducing possibilities of what could've caused the change in her friend. Snapping out of those thoughts, she marched down the hall to find other member of Fearless. It was time to get a few others on this.

A few hallways away, Daitan stood outside the door to the music room. Muffled voices could be heard on the inside. Looking down at the lunch in her hand, 'Maybe I should just go back to Shiro and the others. This is pretty low quality. I can just pass it off as some kind of practical joke.'

She ruminated for a moment and seriously considered just turning around. Before she could take a step, the sound of a distinctly familiar female voice that was seriously starting to grate on Daitan's nerves could be heard.

"Seriously, if you want I brought some extra lunch with me. It's no big deal."

Spinning on her heel, 'Screw that! My name doesn't mean 'Bold' for nothing, now does it?'

Throwing the door open, she strode inside, the lunch sack dangling from one hand. In front of her, the Chihuahua was trying to pawn off some of whatever supposed 'extra food' she brought with her. Jeez, she was such a terrible liar. On the receiving end was her skinny, little tutor who had stopped trying to deny the small girl's request to look at the newcomer. Look at her with those eyes. Those hypnotic, kaleidoscopic eyes.

"You do what I told you", Daitan asked.

Benjiro nodded his head. Holding up the baggy, "Good, I've got something for the both of us right here."

"Just what are you trying to prove", Akiko protested.

Daitan quickly shot her a glare that promised suffering if she continued. Inwardly, she was just begging to any god that would listen that her food didn't suck.

'Here goes nothing.'