Snippet #2657610

Things exploded into action immediately, with everyone jumping recklessly into a fray centered over the little boxes at the back of the room. Even Damien raced off, carving a path through some poor students and disappearing into the commotion. Ieyoshi simply stared, bewildered by his own past actions.

Why had he changed his mind so suddenly? He still didn't feel like being here, but...

Ieyoshi brought his thumb to his lips, kneading them as he engaged in a deeper level of introspection. What he'd just agreed to wasn't really logical. It didn't line up with his current goal of going back home. So why had he agreed to participate? What had derailed his train of thought? Was it Damien's prodding? Nah. He was fairly confident he wasn't susceptible to peer pressure, and he made sure to keep an eye out for that. Was it his brother?

Ieyoshi glanced sideways at Ieharu, whom simultaneously glanced at him. They met eyes for a moment, but Ieyoshi looked away before anything meaningful could be exchanged. Ieharu had a way of seeing through his twin brother like no one else, and that's not the type of exposure he desired right now.

Or maybe... hmm... maybe it was Yume?

Thinking of Yume-senpai always made Ieyoshi feel strange. She brought back into the forefront of his consciousness the precarious position is was in, the constant balancing act he was forced to play, and the delicate mask he was required to maintain. Not that he particularly minded, it was just—

A firm grip on his forearm pulled Ieyoshi back to reality. Snapping his head to the right, he noticed that Ieharu had snatched his forearm out of the air and was gripping it rather ferociously.

Ieyoshi raised an eyebrow, genuinely confused. "What?" He almost hissed, his tone indicating slight annoyance.

"Get out of your head, Yoh," Ieharu chided, looking his brother in the eye. "I know I f-ed up yesterday," he began, slowly casting his eyes downward as he did, "and I know you're mad at me for yesterday and I'm sorry, but don't just stand there." Ieharu flashed his brother one of his toothy grins. "Didn't you say you were gonna go get one? You're missing the fun!"

Ieyoshi twisted his way out of his brother's grip. Something seemed to shift in his demeanor, his aura, after coming into physical contact with Ieharu. His shoulders slumped slightly, his stance becoming less tense. With a sigh, Ieyoshi closed his eyes briefly. Yeah, his brother could see right through him sometimes. Kept him grounded. "I'm not mad, dummy." That was the truth. He wasn't mad at Ieharu. How could he be? None of it was his fault. "Anyone that messes with us gets their ass kicked. Period. Even upperclassmen. Even Godot." They hadn't seen much of Godot since yesterday's events. Ieyoshi still wanted to have some, er, words with that gun-slinging douche bag.

Ieyoshi swept his eyes over the scene before him a second time. The twins must've been standing there for a while, because the scene was already different. One or more of the so-called Godbreads had already been taken.

Interesting.

Ieyoshi wasn't particularly tall, so he couldn't see to the core of what amounted to the giant mosh pit, but relying on his intuition (and pointers from the familiar voices shouting out announcements), he was able to pinpoint several different people of interest.

The first thing he noticed was Erin. Initially, he'd mistaken her for an older male classmate, with the way she was throwing people around and—was she spitting at people?

"Eeww," Ieyoshi muttered under his breath.

Rosa's goons were to be avoided. He'd already had his fill of them yesterday.

Next he noticed Shou, leaning against the wall off to the side. Ieyoshi half-way wanted to join him, but... if Shou was here, that meant his brother was too. Enn. The bounce-off-the-walls one that would talk your ear off. Ieyoshi sighed again. Great.

Suddenly, Ieyoshi activated, moving forward at an expedient yet measured pace. Ieharu lagged behind for but a second before catching up to walk beside his twin.

"So you're gonna do it? You're fight for the bread?" Ieharu asked, voice filled to the brim with an otherworldly exuberance. His brother was excited for reasons Ieyoshi could only imagine.

Ieyoshi shrugged. "I guess."

As they walked forward, the crowd parted before them like the red sea. Those that were fighting in the immediate vicinity paused to gawk as they passed.

"Mad Hatter, however, is putting up a fight just as good," Came a familiar voice. It seemed to be projected over a loud speaker system of some kind. "As seen by the impossibly fast roundhouse kick to the face with his other leg, using her iron grip on his leg as an anchor to carry out the blow. But oh - The Spitter let go of him and he fell to the ground!"

"What is a 'Mad Hatter'?" Ieyoshi asked, curious.

"Damien tells me that's Ryuu!" Ieharu responded, grinning. "And Damien's the Hokage!"

Ieyoshi grunted in response, which amounted to an effective eye roll. "And if I get this bread, do you have the money to pay for it?"

Ieharu halted immediately, as if his feet had turned to stone. "What? Yoh! No! That's not fair!"

Ieyoshi turned to face his brother. Those that had paused their own battle to eye the twins tensed. Were they about to fight one-another?! "If I do the work, you pay for it." Ieyoshi pointed at his brother as he spoke.

Ieharu pointed a thumb at his chest. "I'll pay half."

"You pay all of it," Ieyoshi corrected, "and you can get..." He chewed a number over in his mouth for a moment. "20% of the bread."

"50. Half!"

"25. 40% of it goes to Yume."

"Then 30! Don't be unfair!"

Ieyoshi eyed his brother for a moment before cracking a short-lived smile. "Fine. We'll split it. But you're paying for it." Ieyoshi looked up towards the ceiling, scratching the side of his head. "I, uh, actually didn't bring my wallet anyway."

Ieharu shook his head, feigning a hurt expression. "So this was your plan all along?!"

"No," Ieyoshi responded, stepping closer to his brother and grabbing the boy's arm. "This was." Like a ringside announcer at a boxing match, Ieyoshi raised his brother's arm into the air and proudly declared in an eerily calm voice to all those watching: "This is my brother, Ieharu Sawada. He's the guy you saw kicking ass yesterday morning before school. You losers better not mess with him or he'll take all the Godbread, so watch out."

Mortified is not a strong enough word to describe the look on Ieharu's face. His eyes grew wide as he noticed everyone hone in on him like hungry wolves. "Wait, what?"

"You're gonna be the bait," Ieyoshi muttered offhandedly, as if his intentions were as clear as day.

"B-b-but—!"

Ieyoshi dropped his brother's hand and began walking away. "I'll catch you later."

"Wait!"

But it was too late. Ieyoshi had already melted away into the crowd, and though Ieharu tried to follow, his path was cut off by those around him. One tall and particularly portly fellow stepped out from the crowd to confront the younger twin.

"They call me B.O." The guy declared both to Ieharu and to all those around him.

"Yeah, cause you smell like shit!" Someone in the crowd laughed. Another student, a lanky blond girl, took that as an opportunity to attack, and lunged at another nearby student. Suddenly, the all-out brawl resumed in earnest, with Ieharu in the middle of it. He immediately raised his hands as if surrounded by police, the universal sign of surrender.

That's when B.O. stepped forward, literally bowling over several fighters like a bowling ball would a set of pins. Most of them slid across the floor to collide with others. Many held their noses, eyes scrunched. It seemed that there was something more terrible than his size: his odor!

B.O. turned his attention towards Ieharu, leveling him with an icy stare.

Ieharu scrunched his nose a bit, taking an unsteady step backwards, his hands still up. "Uh... um... I'm not, uh, playing this game. You see, I'm just a, er, well, I don't want any bread or anything so—"

As Ieharu stumbled backwards, B.O. pressed forward, matching the Sawada twin step for step. "You're that kid from yesterday, right? The one queen Rosa marked for death."

"Marked for what?!" Ieharu squeezed between two brawling first-years, hoping to escape his pursuer, but B.O. plowed through them, too. Was this guy unstoppable? And what was he even talking about? "I told you I'm not playing!"

"Then fight me, ya lil' bitch!"

Okay, this guy wasn't getting it. With a panicked squeal, Ieharu turned on his heels and began running through the crowd, though in which direction he wasn't quite sure. He just wanted to find the cashiers, the exit, and the relative safety they would give him. Several others noticed him and assumed he was making a play for one of the Godbreads. Though he was surprisingly agile and quick on his feet, it didn't take long for him to collect a gaggle of pursuers, and they were closing in fast. He knew B.O. was among them, thanks to the burning sensation that attacked his nose and eyes.

Dammit, Ieyoshi! Dammit dammit dammit!

Elsewhere, Ieyoshi walked with purpose, dodging and weaving through what amounted to different battlefields. Some people were slapping each other. Others were rolling around, laughing. Others still were in "serious-business" mode, engaging in epic combat with one another.

This whole thing seemed so chaotic and unorganized. It was surprising that a school would even allow something like this to occur... but then, this was Namimori High. Not only had crazier things happened, but they'd already happened within the last 24 hours.

Following his intuition alone, Ieyoshi slithered his way through the vortex of fists and kicks and shouts until his target came within view: one of the Godbread statues. It was the Hera statue, which held the "Herabread," or, rather, it used to. Someone had already nabbed that Godbread. Oh well.

Maybe it'd be fun to chase after the person who had the Herabread? For a moment, he seriously considered it, but then Ieyoshi slumped his shoulders, losing interest. Again, he wasn't quite sure why he was even participating in this thing. Plus, he wasn't really in the mood to work for his food. He'd already brought a lunch from home, after all. Ieyoshi sighed. "Whatever," he muttered, turning away from the Hera statue and resolving himself to leave the area. He'd fulfilled his piece of the social contract, right? This was enough interaction for today. Maybe he'd just ditch and go home early.

As he began walking away, Ieyoshi felt something—someone—lay their hand on his head. For a moment, just a split second, it felt like... well, like his father. Like Tsunayoshi.

Ieyoshi whipped his head to the side, eyes wide, his expression unusually animate, but when he swiveled on his heel in search of the source, there was no one there. No one was close enough to have done that.

Did he just imagine it? Blehk. Physical contact itself was already annoying enough, but he absolutely hated when people touched his hair!

Though the person that had laid their palm on his head was nowhere to be found, Ieyoshi noticed a familiar face in the distance over by one of the other Godbread statues. Without turning as he did, he would have missed it. Missed him.

It was Damien. He was single-handedly holding off what looked to be an entire army of zombie-like bodies reaching for the Godbread he protected.

Ieyoshi smirked, clenching and unclenching his fists a few times, as if testing them. That's right, Damien was in this game too. And when was the last time they'd gotten to spar one another? Ieyoshi couldn't stop his smirk from growing wider and wider until it overtook the entire bottom portion of his face. Those within the elder Sawada twin's vicinity noted the shift in atmosphere instantaneously and began putting distance between themselves and the enigmatic first-year.

News of what Ieyoshi had done to that one kid yesterday morning had spread like wildfire, and few in the vicinity wanted a piece of that action. This was supposed to be a game, after all, not a serious fight...

With re-purposed resolve, Ieyoshi stuffed his hands into his pockets and began walking towards Damien. Maybe this thing would turn out to be fun. But if anyone touched his head again, he'd kill them.

He wasn't sure if he was being serious or not.