Academy

Kuzuyu.

Somebody's screaming.
And even, worse its raining.
I transmute the air around me so that it no longer allows water to fall through the spaces between its particles.
Its a trick I learnt from a book, because literacy is good, and my hair is not water-friendly.
I walk through the the darkness of the night and the thin layer of fog that always shrouds the grounds of Clair Stz.
At night, the fog shifts as if stirred by an invisible wind, twisting and swirling as if were ghosts in its fabric.
It used to creep me out, till I realised ghosts are the last things to fear in Claire Stz.
I see Kyle, he's in his armoured trench-coat, which is grey, dusty and hasn't been ironed since he last enchanted it.
"I thought you said you're done with cigarettes?" he asks, reaching out to protect me from the rain.
I'm not wet whatsoever but he doesn't seem to notice, so I duck under his outstretched arm.
I hear him mutter something under his breath and the sigil oh is left coat pocket glows white, the rain around us stops in midair. 3 metres away
I can see water droplets splash to the ground, collecting in dark little murky pools.
"I say a lot of shit."
I take a pull, and the tobacco burns the back of my throat like gin used to do before it became my day drink.
We walk through the old school courtyard, there's a chill out, one that I used to hate but have learnt
to love, because its easier to accept these things.
"I'm really getting sick of this shit being our job." I say, exhaling a huge plume of white smoke.
"We don't get paid for it, so technically its not a job." He says with a smile.
I shrug.
"Duty, whatever. The point is i'm tired of it."
I say.
"Stop fucking complaining..."
I look up at him and he's smiling.
I smile back.
"Thank you so much for the positive feedback, Kyle" I say dripping as much sarcasm into my words as I possibly can, stopping to look up at the dorm.
It's a hulking black building, dirty with black squares cut out into the concrete where the windows that aren't broken are.
Outside, dying trees litter the seemingly abandoned courtyard.
The people over here don't take care of themselves, you see, the emo kids don't give a fuck.
And the Clair Stz emo kids never knew what a fuck was.
I pull away from Kyle and let the rain fall on me, it's cold and feels like the night looks.
Kyle looks at me deep with his blue eyes.
"And what the fuck are we doing?" He asks.
It takes me a second to remember.
"Well we're standing outside in the rain. I'm, specifcally, smoking a cigarette"
"Is it a good cigarette?" He asks, pulling Wolfbane from his back.
He looks at the blade like it's his bastard son.
"All cigarettes are shit." I say, kneeling down to tie up my boots.
The cigarette starts to burn my fingers, so i throw it at a window and light another one.
"Can I ask you one question?" Kyle asks, tying his long black hair in a bun high on his head.
I take another drag.
"Yeah?"
"How drunk are you right now."
Another scream from inside.
I smile.
"Not as drunk as I usually am actually."
Kyle laughs and it cuts through the silence like the screams from inside the dorm haven't been able to do.
He straps his sword back onto his back and marches up to the door, which he knocks on with the intensity of a wolverine.
"Hello! " he screams past the wood.
A second passes, and the sound of thunder booms in the background.
" Who is it?" a voice calls from inside.
I can't help but laugh. Who could it be?
The navy?
Kyle looks at the door for a second later, then looks back at me.
"How much do you think this door costs?"
What a stupid fucking question.
"Do you plan on paying for it?
"No," He shrugs.
"Then it doesn't matter does it?" I say, lighting another cigarette.
They're bad for me.
They really are.
Bad Kuzuyu.
"I guess you're right." he says, stepping away from the door.
"Well, then, could you knock it down now."
"You haven't asked them to open it yet."
He puts his fnger up and wiggles it in the air like I just said something quite profound.
"Quite, quite right." he steps close to the door again and screams.
"I'm agent Kyle Savy, this is agent Kuzuyu Bradshaw. We're with the FBI. We have intel that you are harbouring off brand chicken embryos in your living quarters and would like to do a full sweep of the premises to rule off all doubt of chemical or biological warfare. "
The voice that calls out again sounds very confused.
"What?"
"Chicken embryos, sir!"
The voice, I'm sure I've heard this voice before,wavers before saying shrilly.
"Fuck off, Savy. No Prefects allowed round here. New rules."
I laugh and Kyle shrugs.
"I really tried to reason with him."
I roll my eyes.
"Oh yes, totally. You really did."
He bows dramatically.
"Why thank you."
"Landsorf, I'm breaking down your door now." I warn Karl, projecting my voice loud, so he can hear me genuine the oaken door.
I reach inside myself, into the crackling, powerful part of me and a wave of rippling, cold, energy washes over me.
Calm, but deadly.
You have to let it flow through you.
Its like weaving lightning.
No, actually.
That's exactly what it is.
Blinding white lighting strikes the door from the sky, ripping a great hole in it. And the air smells like char and smoldering metal.
Splinters rain about, but Kyle's already in the building with his fists flying and hair falling out it's bun.
I roll my eyes.
Back to this shit again.
I've been gone for two weeks and I don't get a cupcake, or a "how was the funeral?
I get Kyle's horrible home made hot
chocolate(don't ask how), and splinters in my hair.
Welcome back, Kuzuyu. .
I finish my cigarette, roll my eyes again and charge through the smoldering door into the dorm.