“I don't like it,” Hitomi-chan said. “First you and now Noriko-chan.”

Kyoko stifled a reflex to defend Kuri-chan. For once she agreed with Hitomi-chan, even though both of them had taken part in the brutal roll call.

“So what? It worked,” Kuri-chan said.

“No,” Hitomi-chan said. “It didn't work. You just turned the bullying around. Fine, you're both scot-free, but damn you've hurt a lot of people.”

“They deserved to be hurt.”

There was something in Kuri-chan's voice Kyoko didn't like to hear. Something hard that hadn't been there, not even when they were called 'the fatskies' early in ninth grade. Sure, Kuri-chan knew she'd become beautiful one day, but months of being called out for being ugly should still have hurt. Kyoko remembered how it sure hurt her.

“Kuritina-chan, please, you want the bullying to stop, not the hatred to start. Just trust me on this,” Hitomi-chan suggested.

Maybe Hitomi-chan wasn't as much an airhead as Noriko would have her to be.

“Shut up! You think you know so much about...”

“No, you stop it, Kuri-chan! She's right,” Kyoko interrupted and grabbed her friend.

Kuri-chan's face flared with hurt anger. “What, I thought you were my friend.”

Gah! How hard can it be to understand? “Kuri-chan, we both are. I'm your best friend, remember. I'm telling you she's right as your friend.”

“Fuck you and go to hell! Why don't you just shut up as well?”

That hurt. Before she could stop herself Kyoko lashed out. “Yeah, why don't I. Just like when you told me to shut up last time.” Pent up anger and fear loaded her voice. Kuri-chan recoiled like a whipped dog. “Dammit Kuri-chan, you know exactly how to hurt a friend.”

From the corner of her eye Kyoko saw how Kuri-chan cringed from the sudden onslaught. I didn't mean it that way. But Kyoko needed fresh air to clear her thoughts, even if it meant running from her friend. She needed Yukio. She needed to feel needed, and loved.

There were no tears in her eyes when she stormed away, and that scared her the most. She was supposed to be the cool-headed one, second fiddle or the wingman. She should have the back of her friend and be the voice of reason, but if she became cold herself instead of cool it was all for nothing.

Kyoko ran down the stairs the way she had seen Ryu do sometimes. Half a flight of stairs at a time. But she wasn't Ryu, and the outcome was a given. Halfway between the first and second floor she missed a step and flew headlong into the wall beside the windows. Another half a metre to the left and she would have vaulted through the glass and fallen to the tarmac.

The impact was still hard enough to make her groggy and she staggered down the last flight and walked into the corridor feeding the main entrance and the cafeteria.

She felt dizzy, and something was wrong with her eyes. Fuzzy figures stared at her, arms grabbing just like she had been grabbed that night. Kyoko veered away from the assault, fell into the vending machines and dropped to her knees.

Scared! Scared!

She threw up on the floor.

Someone grabbed her from behind. There would be no getting away this time.

Yukio I need you. Yukio help me!

***

The world spun and someone rang with a hammer in her head.

“Will it scar?” a voice asked.

Where am I? Kyoko wondered.

“No, I don't think so. She split an eyebrow, but I could tape it just fine.”

There were curtains around her, and the voices came from the other side of them.

It hurts. Why does it hurt? Kyoko tried to sit up, but she was too weak and a feeling of being disgusting caught her all of a sudden. Leaning to her side she retched, and for some time there was only the heaving and the pain in her stomach.

When she came to again familiar faces surrounded her bed. Somehow she had ended up in the infirmary.

She saw a Yukio she'd never seen before in her life, and a Kuri-chan smaller than she could ever remember her friend having been.

“Happy now? Desert her when she's assaulted and tell her you hate her when she tries to help you? Just die you bitch!”

What is he saying? Don't do that to Kuri-chan!

“I'm sorry. It's all my fault.”

What's your fault Kuri-chan? Something was wrong with her. Kyoko felt it even if she couldn't understand what had happened. It was as if she was dreaming. I fell into the wall, she remembered.

“Just shut up and go to hell!”

Yukio, what are you doing? Can't you see she's hurting?

“I'm sorry...”

“I don't want to hear you're sorry. You hurt my Kyoko so just go away and die!”

Why are you so angry with Kuri-chan, Yukio? Kyoko's head began spinning again.

Someone grabbed Yukio. Someone slapped him. Hard.

“Shut up! She made a mistake, OK?”

Why Hitomi-chan, why did you slap Yukio?

Watching Yukio being hurt turned Kyoko's stomach all over again, and she bent to her side and retched.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Leave her you idiots! She has a concussion!”

What's going on? Why is nurse angry? Darkness took her again.

***

“I'm not going to apologise.” Yukio still seethed with anger at the memory.

“I don't expect you to,” Urufu said.

They sat under the great sails outside the cafeteria. With only a day until the cultural festival the place had seen a transformation from student hangout to what looked like a festival area with almost finished stalls.

On the other side of the building, close to the soccer field, the international food plaza was also nearing completion, and the two friends had taken a short lunch break.

“You know, Christina was in the wrong this time. I'm not going to defend her,” Urufu said when Yukio didn't say anything.

It wasn't fair to his friend being this stubborn, but Yukio just felt helpless when Kyoko got hurt. “It's not your fault,” he started, “and I don't want to say bad things about your girlfriend, but it's...”

“It is my fault as well,” Urufu interrupted. “Christina's behaviour was out of line, but I agree with her initial assessment.”

When did you start learning Japanese words like that? “What do you mean?” While Urufu's grasp of kanji was still awful his spoken Japanese evolved faster than was decent.

“The bullying has to stop. If we're going to fight Red Rose Hell we can't afford this kind of shit on our own turf. Anyone try to screw you up they have to be put down mercilessly.”

Yukio stared at his friend. “That's harsh.”

“Uhum.” Urufu took another bite of his atrocious noodle sub and swallowed it as if it deserved to be called food. “Look, I didn't get to run a company because I was so damned friendly with everyone. I've fired a few arse holes, and once I made certain an idiot was blacklisted. Illegal yes, but damn that got the attention of any wannabe racists.”

He can be cold sometimes. “Didn't you get into trouble for that?”

“Hell yeah! We had to pay a hefty fine, but the dick stayed blacklisted all the same. Well worth it.”

Suddenly Urufu laughed at the memory, and Yukio stared at him again.

A few students, mostly freshmen, looked in their direction from the stalls they were finishing.

Urufu played in a totally different league. Not for the first time Yukio felt inadequate. “Man, sometimes I just don't understand why you stick around with me. I give you headaches and I'm just a school kid.”

The glare Yukio got in return for his comment was devastating. “Don't you ever ask that question again! I stick around because you're the bloody best friend anyone could wish for. I stick around because you stood up for me when doing so put yourself at risk. Fuck it Yukio! I'm the one honoured to have a friend like you, not the other way around!”

That was about as close to a love confession Yukio had ever heard in his life. The harsh sincerity in the words made his heart lurch even though he instinctively understood there was only a sense of deep friendship behind them.

“Sorry,” he said.

“And don't you bloody sorry me! Your girl got hurt and she's my friend as well. At least to the degree she accepts my friendship. Worst case I'll accept a one sided friendship crush on her if you get what I mean.”

Yukio thought he did. Urufu had absolutely no romantic interest in his Kyoko, but he valued those he considered his friends almost as much as he valued Kuri.

“I wonder,” Yukio said. “Sometimes I wish I could make you smile the way you made me smile, but it's only Kuri who has that power. I'm a bit jealous, you know, if you get my meaning man.” And that was for all practical purposes a love confession of his own. Friendship was funny that way. Two persons. Two he had found he was willing to risk everything for.

Urufu lit up in the grin that made more than a few girls look twice after him the last couple of months.

There's nothing left of your attempt to be part of geek squad, but there's also nothing left of the rebel kid from middle school. The thought was sobering. Urufu must have grown back into the man he had been before he arrived in Japan, even if he sometimes acted just as childishly as Yukio and the others in their gang of friends.

“Look, I'll talk with Christina. She wants to apologise anyway. Kyoko's important to her. It's her best friend after all. Deal?”

“Deal,” Yukio answered.

“Let's head back to our area. The poor sods there don't know crap about organising a large scale event.” With that Urufu gobbled down the last of his bread and rose.

Yukio downed his bottled tea and followed Urufu around the right wing.

No one knows crap about your kind of organising, he thought. Two thirds of the club were grouped into three teams of six members each and each team was given full responsibility of one third of the barbecue area, including coordinating work with the other stalls there. Another group worked with the fashion show and Urufu assigned three of the hardest working members of the club to be what he called the fire brigade.

That had come in handy more than once during the planning and set-up.

Yukio shook his head and followed Urufu to the barbecue area. From the almost industrial planning and set-up it was clear to Yukio that management consulting only played part of the organising here. Urufu must have some prior experience from setting up parties as well.

As they passed into the area Yukio found himself surrounded by people with questions. Most were from other stalls, and he redirected them to their respective culture club team just as Urufu had requested, but a few were internal questions. Among other things something was awry with the fashion show.