Intellectual War

Silently, like a viper, a special task force of the infamous Yuki was stalking the halls, all members with smoke bombs in each of their hands, ready to throw into the unexpected classroom. Five were holding cloths containing certain anaesthetics that were strong enough to knock out ten elephants for about five hours flat. The five freaks at the doorway would not stand a chance.

“On the count of three,” whispered one masked alien.

They wanted to be quick about it. In and out. Distract the students and bodyguards, while the boss receives his precious object. Their master was to be feared when he did not get what he wanted. And what does he want? Shouta Fuji, the man he obsessed with since they met fourteen years ago, when both were still young and innocent – well… Fuji was. Yuki, on the other hand, was already the head of the Mob at age fourteen.

Yes, Yuki and Shouta had gone to school together. Yuki had been the most popular jock of the school; with his black hair and dark eyes he was dangerous and sexy. Girls swooned just at the sight of him, only to land flat on the floor because said boy would do nothing to try and catch them!

He felt disgust, disdain to those foolish enough to worship the ground he walked on. Money and power was what attracted them to him, but not one Shouta Fuji, the school nerd. The school nerd would give him a look of disinterest and walk right passed him.

Now, this little midget dared to consider the Prince of Sakura High as nothing but a normal insignificant human being, someone that went to his school, nothing special. Nothing worth taking notice of…

It seemed that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. Even with hundreds of fan girls, even fan boys, he still wanted the one thing he could not have. The only one who could resist his charms, his dangerously good looks and his wits. No one was more cunning, more ruthless than this man. Yet, even with all those charms, and with lots of planning and plotting, Shouta would still always, always slip through his fingers. Every time. Every bloody time!

Well, that would change soon. He would have Shouta within his grasp and he would never let him go again, even if the God of Thunder struck him repeatedly with his Heavenly Hammer. The world could end for all he cared, as long as he held Shouta tightly in his arms, in a loving embrace. Hell could freeze over, so could Heaven, even Earth, as long as they were encased in an iceberg together for all eternity.

It would be so simple if Shouta just gave himself to Yuki. Did he not see that all Yuki could think of was him? All he needed was him. His very life depended on the words and action of that school teacher.

When you love too deeply, you cannot think about anything but that person. Hoping and wishing that they will accept you for who you are, for everything that you are made up of, faults and all.

Alas, Shouta cannot, will not bring himself to love this man. He held nothing but a mixture of contempt and pity for the man who had embroiled himself with the Mob. He simply was not interested. He actually had a huge crush on the self proclaim “girlfriend” of Yuki; the president of his fan club. The most popular girl of town wasn’t going to spend even a moment of her day on the super nerd, let alone date him. Poor Fuji… puberty was a tough time for all of us.

It was like a merry go round. One person loved another person, who liked another and that other person liked yet another human being. They went round in circles that led them to nowhere but heartbreak and unhealthy obsession.

Hence, a string from the past kept wrapping itself around Yuki’s darkened heart. Something changed the irritating feeling of dislike for his rival, into an obsession, a need to possess such perfection that the young lanky boy had developed into.

The past and future were now ready to collide head on as Tahesi prepared to defend the man that he knew as Mr. Fuji, the love of his life.

“Three.”

All hell broke loose.