Guns and Cigarettes [Levi/Rivaille x OC]

Chapter 6: What is Right

My brows were heavy with confusion as I looked at a graffiti of a dick on a locker door. Someone had impeccable detailing when it comes to human anatomy; it was only admirable. One can only deduct that the talented vandaliser was taking Human Anatomy 101, or had just seen a lot of dicks. I shrugged it off and proceeded down the hallway with my heavy textbooks, ambling past the open double doors that led towards the training pools.

As if anyone uses it.

As if there was actually water in there.

Either way, I wasn't too eager to show up to my Biochemistry class today and made a U-turn back towards the direction of the pools, especially after picking up sounds of laughter and splashes. My friend Stoichiometry is going to have to wait.

Is that the swim team shrieking so devilishly? What could be so delightful about water polo ... besides a decent view of shredded abs?

Hold on a minute ... I don't recall us having a swim team to begin with.

"Hey, don't do that!" An unfamiliar voice littered the hall towards the pools as I left my thicker-than-bibles texts on an occupied bench of cleaning solutions past the change room lockers, "They can't swim!"

That explains why we don't have a swim team. I chuckled to myself.

Water quenched under my soles I stepped out of the sweaty room, only to meet a bunch of boring faces from vaguely familiar people and an unknown individual with glasses. I looked back, admiring the muddy details of footprints equivalent to Renaissance artists' paintings I have graced the floors with.

"Yo, it's Hazel! It's been ages!" Hitch's cat eyes caught me, smiling gleefully. She leaned over the pool with what appeared to be a struggling baby turtle, dangling by its claw over the waters between her index finger and thumb. The ash-blonde girl tauntingly dunked the turtle into the chlorine water. Something didn't look too pleasant about the situation. A few snickers rising in the back confirmed my suspicions, "I heard you were back, Hazel. Damn, what happened to your hair?"

"Yeah, whatever. They made me cut it off." Eyes rolling, I sat down next to a boy whose name I couldn't remember, "What are you guys up to now?"

It's pretty god damn obvious. I just wanted to hear them say it.

"We're just having fun, Hazel." Hitch sneered, "Join us."

Having fun. What euphemism.

"Can you cut that out?!" The girl with glasses screeched at Hitch, her face etched with pain. She pounced after the tormenter for the reptile. Hitch, who took ballet since she was seven, danced off the side of the pool and ran alongside the edge decorated with diving boards, the turtle still stressing in her grip, clawing at the air for dear life.

It was only when the pursuer was on one of the diving boards did the guys sitting next to me stand up from the bench and cornered her. Hitch spun to a stop, her cat-eyes twinkled at four-eyes, peering behind the hoard of people who barricaded the girl to the edge of the pool from the exit.

"Fancy a swim?"

"Hitch, maybe you should chill." I suggested from the bench, but she ignored me. She was enjoying this way too much. She always did, "Come on Hitch, just pipe the fuck down."

"W-What do you m-" A whisper behind those glasses of the girl before I caught sight of an arm that lurched forward, shoving her, closer and closer, to the edge of the board. I witnessed uncomfortably as they continued sneering like a bunch of hyenas. Was I always a part of this bullshit? Was this part of the reason why I wanted to wag so bad?