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Kyosuke Sakata, a handsome student who lived to hone the craft of slapping ass and hiding, /felt/ Rin Nakamora’s presence as she walked past him on the way to school. He didn’t hear her. He didn’t see her. As it usually goes, he simply knew she was there and found himself following the tall, slender body under that messy, black hair without thinking.
Not Naka‘mura’, as the whispers often call her; Naka’mora’.
???: OI!!! YOU!!
Barely a few steps in, a man jumps out of an obsidian, light-absorbing car, wearing nothing above but a yellow boa print snakeskin blazer. Out from the back and from the car behind it spawn many others; one is wearing glasses, another an eyepatch, and another, the driver, is wearing an eyepatch for each eye. Although the man in the blazer and the other finely dressed gentlemen behind him (most over their 50’s) keep their distance, his mannerisms remain loud and frantic in contrast.
Rin: Bitch Slapper.
No one called him that, no one; until Rin saw him slap a bitch. In his defense, that woman was being too rough with her son’s ear just because the kid tried to bite the box the juice comes from instead of drinking from the straw.
Bitch Slapper: Bitch, where’s my parrot?
Rin: The webcam I stuck to his head only shows all black.
Bitch Slapper: …nah, nah, no way you bitch ass sent my parrot to SPACE!
Rin’s, on the other hand, are blunt, grave, and quiet like her voice, which is just another way of saying that she barely moves. Just like with those retarded dogs, her eyes can’t be seen behind the dark curtain that is the fringe of her hair, so it’s always hard to tell how she feels. Pale as the prettiest dead, she’s like a walking old picture. As more and more students gather behind Rin, instead of running away from an obvious criminal organization, the man with the blazer couldn’t help but pause.
Bitch Slapper: BITCH you can throw me like thirty-thousand slimy ass teenagers and I aint even gonna sweat I did image training punching dragons and shit! You are getting my parrot back even if you have to fly by flapping your… ass…cheeks?
His voice begins to fade and falter as Rin simply walks up to him, then past him, totally fixated on something beyond the eyes of those who gave up on adventure. Upset, the man in the blazer licks his hand, perfectly ready to deliver the bitchslap that turns musicians into accountants- but one of his own gets in the way.
