Bandaged Hearts

Chapter 4

"Don't. Ignore. Me!"

My jaw pops. Pain shatters throughout my body as my arms and legs are pinned down by two other guys. They continue to throw punch after punch to my stomach.

"Hey! Say something," the guy on top of me shouts.

I try opening my mouth, a fist colliding with my left cheek again. He laughs lightly, putting the punches on pause for now. "What? Can't say anything?"

"Oi! What the hell is going on here," a voice growls, snatching everyone's attention to the speaker.

My sore eyes widen slightly to the sight of the hazel eyed boy from last night. His face scowls, foot holding the skateboard in place and a metal bat slung across his shoulder.

The guy on top of me gets off, motioning for his two friends to stand me up. I'm hoisted to my feet, restrained from moving.

"We're just teaching her a bit of a lesson," the leader smirks, standing in front of me.

"Teaching... a lesson?" Yata questions with a deadly look in his eyes.

"Yeah!" The man comes and slings his strong arm around my neck. "We're initiating her into our friend group. Right?"

He peers at me with a fake smile and eyes that speak death threats. I just click my tongue, spitting at the guy's shoes.

His face contorts. His fist meets my face. "Whore! Try that again and I'll kill you," he threatens.

I chuckle. "Like hell you will," I strain out.

"What did you say...?!"

"She said, you just made the biggest mistake of your life," the chestnut haired boy sums up.

The two other guys start shaking. The pressure on my wrist releases, the two other seniors too scared to do anything. Yata's frown deepens, his red aura rising. "This is a warning for you to leave," he growls, walking to the boy.

The two other ones run, leaving the leader behind. "H-Hey! Get back here! Don't just leave me," the boy who punched me vents.

He snaps his gaze to an upset Yata. "You little... think you're so scary with that light show," he teases, making every bad mistake possible.

The Vanguard. The third best. The nineteen year old boy with a lot to live for. His burning eyes are narrowed. "What did you just call me," Yata hisses.

"I didn't call you anything!"

"You called me little. And you said my flames were just a light show," Yata snarls. His red aura increases.

The boy, who's still in front of me, backs up a bit. He bumps into me, turning abruptly and snatching my once free wrist. As he starts pulling me away from the agitated red clansman, time seems to stand still for a moment.

A rod of pure carbon fiber polymer comes crashing down on the wrist of my captivator. The bat doesn't stop there.

Crrrrrack!

Chills ravage my spine. A heart stopping shriek echos through the quiet outside. The older classmate grabs his twisted up wrist that flops limply. There are tears pricked in his tightly shut eyes.

"Get out of here and don't touch her again," Yata snarls, point his bat at the boy.

The boy nods, running off to the security of the school. My legs wobble, giving out from the weight above them. The dusty ground feels nice against my battered body.

"H-Hey. Let's get you inside," the nervous HOMRA member says in a soothing way.

He wraps an arm under by arms, lifting me up. Yata hoists me up onto his back, keeping his left hand under my body to support my weight. He bends down, grabbing his bat and skateboard in his right hand. "Alright. Let's get you to the infirmary."