The halls of Shujin Academy were at this time, quite bare. It had been an hour since the grading ring of the dismissal bell and the only students remaining were those bearing the weight of extracurricular activities. Ann Takamaki however, held no obligation to any sort of club or team.
A meeting with the school’s volleyball coach had kept her from returning home in a timely manner. Just another check in; an elongated, disgusting conversation concerning her commitment to the dinner she’d begrudgingly agreed to earlier that week. Though her promise to see him tasted vile upon the curl of her tongue, she’d confirmed the agreement nonetheless. What made it more difficult to bear was the wide, imploring hand that had reached to cup the curve of her ass as she retreated.
Still sensing the heat of that oafish touch, Ann’s nose wrinkled along the ridge, her stomach lurching at the thought. It was all she could do to keep from dipping into one of the restrooms to empty her stomach into a dirty, community toilet.
The weight of the percocet she’d tossed back during lunch did little to ease this sudden onset of nausea.
‘That bastard,’ she thought bitterly as she turned into one of the empty bathrooms, her pale cheeks still blotched rouge with embarrassment and anger; her gut, hot, and coiling like agitated snakes. That vile man had been the sole motivator of her friend’s suicide attempt and still, he continued to make her life an absolute horror. She’d go on for the rest of her days hating him for it.
Swinging open a stall door, the blonde hurriedly leaned over the bowl, her skin already doting a sheen of sweat as she readied herself for the inevitable; and like a strong wave, sickness washed over her, turning her knees to jelly and forcing her arms shake.
The retching was loud and abrasiveness. Vomit projected from the hollow of her throat forcibly. spilling into the confines of the bowl and splashing nastily. A soft, weak cry passed her lips and gasping, she braced once more for the impending bile which had yet come.
After a moment of noisy dry heaving, the blonde attempted to spit the remaining, sour from her mouth and the back of her hand moved to wipe at the corners of her lips and at her forehead which was beaded with perspiration.
Staggering from the stall, Ann trembled as she moved to the sink and begrudgingly looked in the mirror; a long, shaky sigh exuded as she took in the sight of her reflection which appeared tired-- tired and pale. Certainly, not a good look. It wasn’t any wonder why rumors followed her seemingly everywhere.
Turning on the faucet, the blonde splashed a bit of water on her face and cupped her hands to fill with the clean liquid. Drinking back her fill and washing her mouth clean of stench, Ann only moved away when she felt composed enough to do so; her body still quivering as she attempted to find grounding.
Despite becoming sick, she could still feel the lazy weight of the pill; her thoughts muddled and limbs numb and heavy.
Inhaling deeply, Ann left the bathroom biting back the impulse to cry; her teeth clamped tightly upon the curve of her bottom lip to stifle any whimper that might escape. But before she had time to worry about containing a sob, her path was crossed by another.
Colliding with the other’s shoulder, Ann turned to quickly stammer an apology, but was silenced by the crimson gaze staring back at her.
Heat began its sure ascent, itching along her neck and up to the tips of her ears as she stammered to respond-- her voice seemingly lost as she openly gawked and after a moment of unbearable embarrassment, Ann stupidly uttered, “Watch where you’re going!”
The interaction surely was, at the very least, ill timed. She’d been meaning to speak with the student council president and implore upon her role in the suicide of Shiho Suzui, but this wasn’t the correct moment nor place for such a discussion. Still, she couldn’t seem to help herself as she took a small step towards the other, her anger propelled by the burden of her visit with Kamoshida and the false sense of courage which the pill graciously provided. It was inevitable that she lash out at anybody who crossed her-- that it just so happened to be Makoto Nijima however, was unfortunate for both parties.
“Actually,” she scoffed. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” Exhaling slowly in attempt to ease her nerves, Ann eyed the brunette with a gaze of unadulterated contempt and swallowed-- hard.
“Who do you think you are, covering for that criminal? Are you working with him, or do you just get a rise out of watching other people suffer?” It was low and she was doubtful of the brunette’s involvement, but still-- her emotions refused to yield and this seemed better a chance than any to release some of the pent outrage.
@nxtuselxss
