Transfer [Pure-Destruction]

Shiroiwa was not an especially large school, though it was not quite impossible to get lost in. If it wasn't for 9-B's male class representative Kyoichi Motobuchi leading the latest transfer to the classroom, the new student may have been tardy in finding his own way - or perhaps might have considered taking a little detour to explore the school some more. Class was not a priority for Kazuo Kiriyama, to say the least.

Motobuchi rambled about where to find this and that, and what their teacher was like, but it became more of a nervous way to fill the silence than a purposeful explanation. The tidy young man couldn't help but be intimidated by what was clearly the troublemaker in tow. Name coincidences aside, Motobuchi was sure Kiriyama would fit right in with the infamous Kiriyama Family. Kazuo made no effort to conceal his boredom with the class representative; his dark eyes drifted lazily through the halls, peering through doorways and looking each student who passed by up and down, as if sizing up a potential meal. It was obvious he wasn't listening to Motobuchi's explanations.

When the two arrived, perfectly on time thanks to Kyoichi, the teacher approached to greet the new transfer. "Thank you Motobuchi, go ahead and have a seat," Mr. Hayashida offered the class representative, whose face promptly fell into relief as he moved to his desk. "Welcome, Kiriyama. It just so happens we have another Kazuo Kiriyama in here. I hope that doesn't prove too confusing." The teacher smiled. His face was friendly. Kazuo didn't mind friendly teachers as long as they didn't push it; certainly better than strict teachers who always gave him crap, anyways. But the wild-haired transfer offered no greeting or smile. After taking a minute to study Mr. Hayashida, his gaze shifted to rather brazenly scan over his new classmates just as the teacher turned to introduce him. "Class, this is the new transfer, Kazuo Kiriyama."

The class perked up somewhat, and there were some giggles at the contrast between the two Kazuos now present.

Show Tsukioka arched a brow. He took his time gazing over the new Kiriyama, his cool eyes seeming to drag over every inch of the transfer's lanky form. Eventually he cast a glance to his more familiar Kazuo, whose pale face remained as unchanged as ever. An amused smirk crept over Show's glossy lips. He wondered what his dear Kazuo-kun thought of the identically named transfer. Judging by his wild hair, lax posture, and the intense look in the transfer's eyes, it would not surprise Show if Mitsuru decided to test him out after class. Numai was always hungry to 'introduce' himself to new students... And this one looked particularly tasty. In more ways than one, thought Show, his amused smile lingering.

With the class seating arrangement being alphabetical, the transfer Kiriyama was pointed to a desk prepared behind 9-B's Kiriyama. Kazuo eyed the slicked-back head of hair as he passed, even fearlessly studying the other student's perfectly blank face. The boy looked like he had been chiseled out of stone. Even after just the brief moment of looking at it, the youth's almost flawless face rather irked Kazuo.

After taking his seat at his desk, the transfer scrutinized the sleek, black hair in front of him a moment more before his dark eyes shifted to more carefully study the other students in the room. It looked like there were some real weirdos in here. In particular a boy with vivid eye shadow and a formidable pompadour hairstyle, who was batting what had to be fake eyelashes at him. Frowning faintly, Kazuo glared a little at the boy but was quick to avert his gaze. It was probably best not to get that one's attention.

Due to his rough appearance, the new transfer caught Mitsuru Numai's eye almost instantly. Usually Mitsuru would be the first to try out a student's strength, but something was holding him back. According to 'Dragonfly,' this boy's name was Kazuo Kiriyama, the same name as the boy he'd vowed to serve under.

Mitsuru furrowed his brows, how could someone have the exact same name as the Boss? There weren't many Kiriyama's in Shiroiwa, much less in the prefecture, not unless this Kiriyama was a relative to the Boss. But as Mitsuru re-examines the transfer Kazuo, he realized that the two look nothing alike. 'Boss' being a graceful, upper-class prodigy, whilst the other Kazuo had no grace and bad posture, a sign of lower-class. Not to mention that messy hair style that showed delinquency. But what really caught Mitsuru's attention is his eyes, they told him that this Kazuo wasn't a force to be reckoned with, that he was something else. First five minutes of being a part of 9-B, and he already acts as if he's superior to the rest of the class. The type of person Mitsuru hated the most.

He reminded Mitsuru of the four boys who broke his fingers on his first day of Junior high, the same boys that started the fire between himself and the 'Boss.' The thought then occurred to Mitsuru, what if this Kiriyama picks a fight with the Boss? This thought brought a smile to Mitsuru's lips. What were the odds that the Boss would put this impostor in his proper place by own will? Although, he didn't want to bother the Boss with a petty request like that, that's the sort of thing Ryuhei'd do.

As the homeroom session had concluded, Mitsuru hurried away from his desk, he was anxious to discuss with the Boss about the wild haired transfer. Did this even bother the Boss? Probably not, but he wanted to know his opinion of the situation regardless.

Before Mitsuru caught up with the original Kazuo, he noticed a familiar scene, Ryuhei was trying to pick a fight with the new transfer. That idiot.

Once the class was finished, Kazuo gathered his backpack and began his stride for the door - but was interrupted. A friendly-looking girl with shoulder-length hair popped out in front of him. Kazuo could have sworn she must have sprouted right out of the floor.
"Hi, Kiriyama! I'm Yukie Utsumi, female class representative. The school day's probably been pretty boring so far, huh? How did Motobuchi do showing you around?" She asked rather playfully, as if hinting the male class representative might not have done such a great job. "Is there anything you need help finding?"
A vaguely disconcerted look crossed Kiriyama's features, but he shook his head dismissively and then attempted to walk around the girl.
"Uhm-" She scurried back out in front of him. "Okay," she smiled and tried to maintain her friendly demeanor. "Just let me or Motobuchi know if you're.. wondering… about anything…" Her voice dwindled as the wild-haired youth again moved around her and continued out the door before she had even finished. Utsumi's smile faded in defeat, and she shook her head, giving up on the transfer and returning to her group of friends.

In the hall, however, he was abruptly pulled aside by a boy with dirty blonde hair, and shoved against the wall there. His face remained strangely calm despite the sudden conflict, like this was a routine that happened every day.
"Don't think I didn't see you eyeing the whole class like we're a bunch of dumb fucks," chided the boy. "Just 'cuz you got Kiriyama's name doesn't mean you're half as good as him, you little shit."
Kazuo eyed the other boy coolly, glancing him up and down. The transfer's posture was by no means tense… or frightened, either.
Frustrated by his captive's lax stance, the boy known as Ryuhei Sasagawa grabbed for Kazuo's collar and pushed him harder against the wall. "You think you're too cool to talk or somethin'?"
Finally, a response - but not one Sasagawa had been anticipating. A smile flickered over the transfer's lips.
Ryuhei scowled. "Well, I got news for you, stupid punk: no one's cooler than the real Kiriyama in this class, got it? So you should get yourself a different attitude, or better yet a different na-"

Without his hands restrained in the least, Kiriyama hurled a punch as sudden as a striking snake smack into the side of Ryuhei's face. The boy went toppling sideways, hands clutching the impact point.
"What the fuck…" Hissed Sasagawa. The transfer moved like a demon, and hit almost as hard, too, which was surprising for his beanpole frame. "Just you wait, you little shit! The real Kiriyama throws better punches than that, and he'll get you for this." Of course, Ryuhei knew there were no guarantees with the head of the Kiriyama family - the Boss did whatever he wanted, whenever he felt like it. But surely, the 'real' Kazuo Kiriyama would want to defend his name and take this crazy-haired chump on.

Kazuo watched the wounded youth scurry off, apparently to fetch the other Kiriyama. A wild kind of excitement had sparked in the transfer's dark eyes, like a cat entranced by a newfound toy. Maybe his day wouldn't be so boring after all.

As Ryuhei returned to his 'family', Show could not help choking down a giggle. It was not hard to guess what had gone on. "Ryuhei, that scarecrow of a boy hit you? You poor dear," he cooed, taunting. "I guess the new student's a fighter, not a lover." He giggled quietly to himself, shielding his smile with an impeccably manicured hand.

Ignoring Ryuhei Sasagawa's actions, Mitsuru Numai sprinted in front of his well bred leader, stopping him in his tracks.
"Okay Boss, what do you think about this transfer?" Mitsuru almost burst with excitement, he truly didn't like this 'imposter.'
"There's nothing of interest to note, he merely shares both my given and family names. He's no different to the other delinquents we brawl with on a weekly basis." Kazuo Kiriyama mutters unenthusiastically, which almost disappoints his Permed underling.

Out of the blue, Mitsuru could feel the familiar touch of false nails clutching both of his shoulders and the warmth of someone pressed against his back. The culprit breathed in a slightly erotic manner, "Surprise, Mi-tsu-ru-kun~"
Disgusted, the permed delinquent cringed and then instantly broke free of the hands holding him back. "How many times have I told you to stop with that faggy attitude Show?!"
As if expecting this reaction, Show Tsukioka rests his cheek onto his palm and pouts at Mitsuru. "How rude. Is this how you greet all of your friends, Mitsuru?" He says, as if he was upset with his friend's statement.
This comment infuriated the Permed delinquent more so. "I don't care what you do in your spare time, just don't get us involved in your faggy little games, fucking queer!"
"Were you always this rude? Is that anyway to act in front of our dear Kazuo-kun?" Show cooed.
Mitsuru's toned face flushed red with anger "GOD! How many times do I have to tell you? Boss is Boss!"

Kazuo watches quietly, as if it were a daily routine. He felt as if his underling wanted to ask more of him, so he thought it would be best to stay put after all, he still had time to wait for Mitsuru to question him some more before first period. The pale youth almost didn't notice Hiroshi Kuronaga's tiny body arrive at the area, prepared to ask the same question as his first 'lieutenant.'

Smack

The sound of a fist coming into contact with a hard material rang throughout the corridor. Most of the remaining members of class B, including the other members of the Kiriyama family stopped their current doings and turned to the source of the sound. Ryuhei lying on the floor, cradling his injured face and the wild haired transfer grinning like a Cheshire Cat, proud of his work. By then, it became obvious to Mitsuru that this Kazuo had dominated his friend, Ryuhei.

Mitsuru would be lying if he said that he had faith in Ryuhei's strength, but the harsh truth was, he was one of (if not the) weakest member in their small family. Because of this fact, it was no surprise to Mitsuru that Ryuhei would lose his miniature brawl with the new transfer. Although, it was incredibly lucky that none of the teachers noticed the commotion, or Ryuhei'd be excluded from the school premises once again, although that wasn't an experience alien to him.

A familiar scene, Ryuhei running away from a threat, crying to Kazuo for support. This was a sight that, unfortunately for Mitsuru, wasn't new, but a sight that Mitsuru had always hated to witness. As friends, Mitsuru was close to his Blond companion, but he hated this side to him. Always wanting what he couldn't have, always demanding and crying when he couldn't have his own way. To put it simply, Ryuhei was a brat. And like all brats, they need someone to latch onto, this person being the Boss, Kazuo Kiriyama himself.

"Boss! Boss?!" Ryuhei cried. God, why can't he just grow a pair and suck it up? He's making a scene.

"Ryuhei, that scarecrow of a boy hit you? You poor dear," purred Show, teasing the badly bleach haired boy.

When the Blond delinquent arrived to Kazuo's side, begging for some form of revenge, Mitsuru and Hiroshi both hear their queer comrade uttering another disgusting 'faggy' comment about the transfer. Both of them roll their eyes in disgust. He's such a fag.

The original Kazuo turns to his underlings "We should head to our next period now, or else we'd be late," he states, obviously not interested in their current state.
"But what about that imposter?!" Ryuhei questions, almost surprised that his beloved 'Boss' wouldn't want to have anything to do with this new transfer.

Since Kazuo was needed in another class, the family split up for their next period.

"Did you see what he did?!" Ryuhei screems.
"Yes! Now keep it down, it looks like he's heading towards our next class. Do you want another beating?" Mitsuru utters the question with a slight grin. Well, maybe he does need a beating, if it means he'll shut up.
Obviously agitated, the scrawny youth retorts, "If you think you can take him on, by all means show us how much more superior you are!"
"Hell no! There's no way I'm going to take him, nor should the rest of you. There's just something about that seems... Off." Mitsuru trails off, knowing how strange his comment must have sounded to the rest of the group.
"Well aren't we gonna do something about him?" Questions Hiroshi, puzzled at his friend's comment.
Ryuhei grimaced, there's no way this guy's gonna get away with this! "You know what?" Ryuhei hissed, fists raised. "The dumb fuck hit me when I wasn't prepared, next time I'll sneak up on him when he's prepared to crawl back to his crappy little shack and surprise attack him! See how he likes it!" The Blond claims, twitching slightly.
His peers knew he what he'd say before he'd even said it. He's such a brat.

"Why don't we all just corner him after school? All of us could take him together," suggested Hiroshi.
Another thing Mitsuru hates is when people fight dirty. He could understand Ryuhei and Hiroshi doing so as they were much smaller and weaker than most Yankees, not that he liked this fact, Show was resourceful and used stealth, always out smarting his opponent, Kazuo was extremely skilled and Mitsuru was by far the strongest physically. But this transfer was something else, he just oozed crazy. But Mitsuru hated this transfer and as much as he hated to admit it, maybe the only way to truly put him in his proper place is everyone cornered him.
"Fine, but lets wait until after school finishes."

The transfer waited patiently, but time passed, and his sniveling adversary, nor the other Kiriyama, nor anyone else came around the corner to meet him. The spark dwindled from his dark eyes until they had regained their relaxed, even somewhat bored look. With a soft sigh, he moved to stride toward his next class.

It only occurred to him the hallway had gone quiet after its noise gradually picked up again; looks like his punch hadn't been quite quick enough to go unnoticed. But Kazuo couldn't care less. If any teachers had seen, they would probably let him off easy for it being his first day. If other students had seen, all the better… Though, the vague worry crossed his mind that he hoped not to scare everybody off too quickly, or that would mean no more stupid thugs coming to introduce themselves to his fists.

He could hear the murmuring behind him in the hall. Girls exchanging hushed conversation intermingled with giggles as he passed. Whether their giggling was of mocking or infatuation made no difference to the wild-haired youth. His face maintained a lax and largely blank look, his dark eyes skimming lazily over his peers as he moved through the hall; his gaze was quick to drive other eyes to the floor upon contact. No one could hold his gaze for long at all. This school would be a cakewalk - which was a loathsome thought. If Kazuo couldn't find trouble, he would have to make it.

He was aware the blonde boy was behind him, too, talking with some friends, though he couldn't make out what they were saying. Plotting against him, probably. He felt a delicious ripple of adrenaline through his muscles, bracing to pounce; his gait remained confident and relaxed as always, but beneath his lax stride he was poised, waiting with anticipation, to dodge out of the way if the group came at him, or otherwise whip around and hit whoever approached first. Waiting. But the transfer reached his class without any of this happening, and, disappointedly, the adrenaline slowly drained from his form. How boring.

The rest of the school day drifted by painfully uneventfully. Kazuo was rather surprised the blonde did not approach him at any point for round two, nor did anyone else muster the testicular fortitude to place themselves in his path. On his way out of school, just as he had begun to give in to the idea this place really was hopeless in the way of excitement, someone grabbed him by the back of his collar to haul him around the corner to the side of the building, more or less throwing him into the wall there. His back hit the wall roughly but he bounced off it without flinching… only for a faint scowl to seep into his calm features. The only person he had made a note to avoid.

"Mitsuru-kunnn," called Show, having pulled the transfer Kiriyama to around the side of the school. Tsukioka couldn't deny his masculine frame came in handy from time to time in the way of brute strength; but now he backed up to await the rest of his family's approach, knowing better than to linger alone in the punching range of this new, dangerous, wild-haired plaything. "Ryuhei, Hiroshi, Kazuo-kunnnn," continued Show in a singsong tone. "I caught our pretty little transferrr~"

By the time most of the Shiroiwa Junior High school students had left the building, the supporting members of the Kiriyama Family had parted ways to search for the wild-haired transfer. Mitsuru despised fighting dirty, but by this point in time, he couldn't care less. In his mind, beating the Transfer senseless seemed like he was avenging all those people who were brutally beaten up by junior high psychopaths, like the four boys who sent him to the Hospital all those years ago. He didn't care how he did it, all he knew was that he needed to do it to give him some peace of mind.

Mitsuru was in charge of searching through the second floor of the main building, during his search, he'd never came across his Boss among the premises. Maybe he'd already left, he didn't even know that they were doing this.
"Mitsuru-kunnn," a familiar voice called. Arggh, fucking queer.
"Ryuhei, Hiroshi, Kazuo-kunnnn," the voice continued in a singsong tone. "I caught our pretty little transferrr~" Well, it looks like Show's finally found him.

Mitsuru traced the voice to the left side of the main building, he rushed to the nearest window -looks like Show has kept him busy. Hopefully, the permed teen would make his way to the two delinquents before anything interesting starts. Ryuhei and Hiroshi had arrived before himself, luckily, they hadn't begun the fight without him.

Ryuhei was the first to make his move, moving close enough to the messier Kiriyama that their faces were almost touching.
"HA! You don't look so tough now, do yah?" the Blond boy flicked the Transfer on the shoulder with the palm of his right hand back against the wall, "you're so dead you little shit!" The wild-haired Transfer bounced against the wall behind him, letting his upper body lazily fall forward, as if he were a Puppet who lost it's supporting strings.
Hiroshi stepped closer to the messier Kiriyama, "What? Are you too scared to fight? Huh?" pushing his face closer to the Transfer's.

Ryuhei launched his right fist, aiming for the Transfer's face "Don't fuck with me, you little shit," he was close enough that he should at least have skimmed his target. The smaller delinquent followed the Blond's lead and threw several punches at the wild-haired Transfer while he was distracted, attempting to land some blows. Mitsuru darted toward the distracted delinquent, aiming to knee him in the stomach.

Ryuhei, convinced that the messier Kiriyama would be quite a powerful adversary, dived over to the Transfer's side, attempting to pin him down, as to let the other members of the 'Family' have their turn with their new plaything. Mitsuru tries to take advantage of his ally's detractions. Cautiously, the permed teen closes in on the target once again, attempting to dodge any potential attacks.

With no one but Tsukioka to stop him, the transfer Kiriyama was just about to drift off again before more familiar faces appeared, one of whom was the blonde he had hit in the hall earlier, who already had a faint bruise forming on his cheek.

Anyone with a healthy sense of self-preservation might have raced for safety just then, especially considering how outnumbered the young man was now; yet instead of moving away as he had been about to, he stopped and turned to lean back against the wall. Now the day was looking more promising.

When Sasagawa neared his face, it was obvious another grin was fighting its way into Kazuo's features, despite that he seemed to be struggling to hold it back - as of someone trying not to laugh to himself about a joke he remembered in the middle of class. Even after he was pushed at the shoulder, he appeared to strain on the verge of laughter. When he should have been trembling out of fear for his physical well-being, the wild-haired youth was blatantly amused. If the subtle bad vibes emanating off of him weren't making it clear enough, it was increasingly apparent there was something wrong with this boy.

All the while his gaze was on the ground, never lifting to make eye contact with any of them. And still he tried to keep from grinning at the second thug to near his face, dark eyes sticking firmly downward. It was a bizarre combination - the timidity of having his gaze downcast, and the eerily brazen feel of his persistent smile.

With the same lightning speed he had exercised in his offense earlier, the transfer literally twirled out of the way of the first punch, Sasagawa's fist knocking past the back of his head - though apparently not enough to much daze him - as he whipped around to grab onto the back of the blonde's head and shove it mercilessly face-forward into the brick wall. But just as he turned around, arm rearing back to strike for the next victim, said next 'victim' in line socked him in the gut. Kazuo crumpled but worked with the reflex to hit the other boy hard at the waist also, then tottering sideways so as to try to gain some space, not to mention put distance between him and the blonde he had shoved into the wall, who he knew would be recovering soon enough.

The smaller boy he had hit in the gut, however, recovered quicker, lunging forward. Kazuo dodged back before promptly flying forward for a punch in the face a second later, which was returned almost as swiftly. The youth reeled back, but was soon steadied only to be kneed hard in stomach by a larger boy who had just entered the fight. Kazuo reached up to grab for his latest adversary, throwing a punch into the side of his face, but was then tackled out of the grip to the ground.

Instinctively he wrestled to pin his attacker underneath him, hurling relentless punches for Sasagawa's already battered face all the while. Kazuo knew he did not have the upper hand in brute strength; but he might have had the endurance, and knew from experience if he could get enough hits in quick enough, he could wear his opponent out. Throughout the fight it seemed he paid little mind to whoever was not before him at that moment, his fists and all their ferocity focused on one target at a time.