Jaws of Sweet Death (Project Moon High School AU)

[kaillll]

betaed by the helpful breakingamber! Thank you for spotting my spelling mistakes and fixing my shitty grammer!
And also special thanks to them for helping me and refining my shitty idea.
Is also on AO3!


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'School was boring today.' Shiyama Iroko thinks to herself, those pale fingers running through a collection of knives, picking out the biggest one for the ingredient she has on the table. Smiling in delight, she grabs the one with a metal handle. 'Just those same old things, class, getting annoyed by some pesky things that I cannot do anything about, exams…' oh how she wishes that there were less exams, all those papers wasted on useless questions. Is she well? How is she feeling? Does she see anything happening? Did she hear anything? Stupid questions given by stupid people with a stupid paper. Thank god that she gets to have some fun after all that…Otherwise she might go crazy!

And bad things happen when she goes crazy… At least she thinks so, she never actually did go crazy, not once.

The knife she grabbed is a meat cleaver, about 18 centimeters long, sharp, good at cutting meat and extremely easy to use. Not to mention the metal handle won't have any bloodstains left after you wash it. (not like those wood handles, how annoying those were.) Easy to use and effective! Just like what Mr. Goggles had taught her.

If the thing doesn't work, throw it out.

In the hands of a cook, this single knife can make a thousand dishes. Designed to cut bones, meat and everything in between, a single swing and the muscles give way to reveal the yellowish-white bone protected by those meats and the skin. And after a second swing, well, there go the bones. She always likes to hear some noise when she is doing this. This is the reason she never gags them. Spoils the fun. She will never understand why Mr. Goggles never does this.

Letting go of that piece of meat and wiping the blood off her face, she smiles. That face, pale as a dead body, turns to face the slab of meat on the table. Her hand touches the exposed meat, causing a second scream to shoot out from the poor thing.


"Hush hush, I'm doing my thing, you know? I really hate someone trying to spoil my fun." She lies with a big smile on her face, enjoying the face of the meat, full of terror and anger and fear.

She leans in, extremely close to their face, that almost heartwarming smile completely disappears like a piece of ice under the hot summer sun. "So would you please shut up? Maybe some peace and quiet will make things go quicker and make me not want to eat sushi tonight! Don't you know that sushi is best served fresh? That's why sushi masters are always wandering around at the freshest markets possible! And they keep their fish alive when they do things! How interesting is that, don't you think?" Her hand runs down the blade of the cleaver, a black tongue licks the bloody palm clean, not a single drop of blood left, only a thin layer of black spit. "Don't be afraid… I will never be something like them…I mostly just eat!"

The thing is screaming again, shouting curses and pleading you to let them go. How stupid is that? He tried to attack you! You obviously are going to repay that, by killing him, slow and steady.

Ding dong~ the doorbell chimes, telling everyone inside that someone is at the door. Seeing this as their only chance at surviving, the food screams louder, begging someone, anyone, save them, save this pathetic slab of meat from the hands of this school girl.

Too bad. That will not be the case.

"Coming! " Without even putting the cleaver down, the black hair girl walks towards the door, and opens it without hesitation.

"Cronen kun! welcome! You are here for an unforgivable luncheon I hope!" she stretches out her gloved hand, the leather covered in blood. It's dripping down on the concrete floor, painting the gray steps red. An annoyance.

"Hello." says a voice, young, obviously a teenage boy, that voice is extremely, incredibly normal."... it's noisy here, want some silence. Hungry too."

The…thing that walks in is anything but normal. Discolored eyes, one green one blue, his face covered in stitches, the skin of his hand seems unfitting, like someone put on some skin-like gloves to trick people. One hand is too big, saggy, like the fingers of the glove are too long for the hand in it. One hand is too small, stretched, limiting, like a string on an instrument that is too tight for its own good. The monster of a man walks closer to the table, limping like a reanimated corpse. That thing is not a man, it's something in the skin of a man. What horror!

The meat screams, not from the pain of losing a limb. Oh no no no! It's not pain or the hope of being saved that dragged the last scream out of the meat. It's fear, there is nothing but fear. In its last moment. The meat looks at the monster, and remembers an old book he never read, Frankenstein's monster.

….Pop. He kicks the bucket.

"...Oh dear! Looks like this one is dead…how clumsy of you, Cronen kun! I can't have fun now…" The young girl pouts her mouth, but clearly that face only shows playfulness, not anger, not sadness. A bit of disappointment for sure, but what's the life of a slab of meat to her but some fun? She can get something like that from poking the butterfly with death jokes.

"...Sorry." the Frankenstein's monster-looking freak lowers his head. That messy red hair faces the pouting girl. He is sad. He should be sad when people are disappointed in him, that is what people do, so that young voice that comes out of him is sorry, genuinely sorry.

The pout disappears, the much shorter girl smiles and hugs the tall..man thing. A spark of happiness lights in those dead eyes. The dulled pupils finally show something other than the eyes of a corpse…feelings, happiness, it's alive.

And it's extremely alien, at least on her face.

"Oh, it's ok!" Her blood covered hands pat his lower back, leaving an almost unnoticeable bloodstain handprint on the black suit, the school uniform. "Let's just start on dinner, shall we?"

Letting go of the now smiling 'man', she pulls an empty chair over to the table, tells the teenage monster to sit down, and the cleaver once again chops down on the meat. In an eerie silence broken only by the sound of crunching bone, the two enjoy this silence, and the smell of blood.

---

"..." Her classmate looked at her, eyes narrowed. Sniffing again, the hairy man opens his mouth to say something but just sits back down under the eyes of Dave Cronen. Mumbling under his breath, those sharp eyes of a killer lingers on her and Cronen, disgusted. He turns around, no longer facing the black hair girl and her friend, telling the dog, his brother, to not get close to the two.

Because they stink of blood…

The Wolf…or Victor Channon if you want a name, a prideful fucker that is scared of her friend, and his coward brother, the buddy of that blue-hooded dickhead. With her friend Cronen kun, that Holiday hating dumbass that stinks of rotting pig skin, and some boring dummies in between, that concludes all of her boring classmates.

Under the watch of her…Ms.Gebura… sigh, she doesn't hate her, she just wishes that Ms.Gebura didn't take Cronen-kun away from her.

She wants to spend more time with him! He always gives her snacks that are way better than those street filth… but now she can't hang out with him too much! What nonsense….

Well, it was nice of her to let Cronen-kun come over for dinner, she couldn't deny that, but…

'Oh whatever. Let's just get this over with,' she thinks to herself. 'Maybe if I count my strands of hair, the time will go quicker.'

Time, in fact, did not go quicker, and the sound of bells emanating from Rudy's phone is really testing her patience.

"Turn off your phone, reindeer. Homeroom starts now." says Gebura, putting a stack of books face-down on the podium "So to remind you all of the last months Incide-"

Iroko tuned her out and started looking out of the window, staring at those beautiful green trees and the great blue sky. She wonders how it feels to be a bird, to fly around and never worry about anything but food… and maybe air pollution but who knows? Some bugs, some berries and a nest that will be all she needs and she doesn't have to worry about anything…. What a nice life it would be.
… with the autumn wind blowing through her hair… Free of fear, Free of burden… flying through the sky with Mr.Goggles…

…maybe with Cronen-kun too..

"-iss Shiyama, don't make me ask you again, come up to the podium and take your book. Now."
The harsh voice of Gebura drags her back to reality, quickly Shiyama stands up and fast-walked towards the teachers desk, takes the cheap leather notebook, and returns to her seat in the middle of the class. Next to Cronen.

"...Right. Since there's an airhead among us, I will repeat what I just said." Gebura says, in a tone Iroko can't really describe, "Every single one of you is given a notebook. You are to write down how you are feeling and what you think will make you happier every day. We will check this book every 2 weeks, just write something down and we will be all fine. Don't lose it. Got it?" The annoyed woman looks at the black hair girl.

"Yes, Miss Gebura!" Iroko says, in unison with the class. with a smile that can be described as a shit-eatting grin.

Which to her is a perfectly normal smile.

"...That's it, homeroom over. P.E at tomorrow afternoon, don't skip it." The red-haired woman picks up the files, and leaves the room.

"...She is…mad? ...Don't understand. There's nothing to be mad at. Did Mark do something wrong?" Cronen says, sitting in the chair that is clearly too small for him, deep in thought.

The carefree girl leans into him, smiling "Oh I'm sure it's nothing! Some women just like to be mad and angry when they get old! It's normal!"

Taking her phone out, she starts to look though Lets-Chat, scrolling though the ocean of Cameron's messages (which is all just some photo of him at some weird 'party' thing), she finally finds some that actually interest her.

A video of Laetitia shoving a jar of little bugs down the pants of the blue-hood asshole, with a caption of "A good two year anniversary to you, dickface!" posted by Laetitia fan club.

She remembers that day fondly, it's been 2 years since she laughed that hard.

"...Normal." says Cronen "...Ok."

---

"Mark is Normal." says Dave, as he writes the word down the empty book. "Happy."

"..." Silently, Gebura walks over with a mug of orange juice in hand. "Having trouble there?"

"No." The reply came out not even a second after the question. The tall boy looks over to the worried teacher and smiles a big toothy grin.
.
…Those teeth are too…thin? Can you even call a tooth thin?

A deep sigh leaks out of Gebura, and she puts the mug down next to him.

"You don't need to write it if you don't want to. It's just something that the headmaster thinks will be best for the students. Despite what Chesed and I have been saying." Patting Cronen on the shoulder, she walks over to the door of his bedroom. "Go and sleep after this… you are done with your homework right?"

"Yes." Dave says with barely any feeling. He picks up the mug, those discolored eyes looking at the sweet liquid.

"...Good night." She closes the door.

Why that bastard thinks she is the best one for taking care of him, she will never know.

"Gebura not angry. Mark…Happy? ...Sleep." He takes the mug up with two hands and starts using his dog-like tongue to drink.

---

She sits down at the bloodstained table, the marks from yesterday that she hasn't cleaned, and looks at the leather notebook. The crusty dried blood made the cover dirty.

She will need to clean it…. How annoying.

Looking over to the living room, she walks over and grabs the black clicker. The TV turns on right after.

The big plastic plate is playing an uninteresting show of someone sitting at a desk and saying dumb things again, something about a guy getting a new chair that needs to be plugged in.

Why would a chair need to be plugged in? Isn't that just dumb? What an unfunny joke, the script writers need to get better, or else the show will get canceled! And the plastic plate will just be a weird looking decor that is not useful to the house. An inconvenience.

Oh well, maybe they are just lazy. It's ok to be lazy sometimes, being lazy is fun! Just sit down, grab some food, and wait for something to happen.

Like someone coming over and saying hi, like those blue men… and who knows what else! She can even do something…

She yawns. The comfy chair is too soft! She wants to sleep now! And to be honest,
homework can go in the oven and burn. Too bad she can't do that, the house of Mr. Goggles will burn down if she does.

…When will Mr. Goggles come back? How long has it been? 3 years? She has been living here for three years already….

… She wants some food. She wants Mr. Goggles home. She wants Dave-kun here.
The dark eyes of a dead girl look at the bright TV screen, there's nothing there but a frown.

She… she should do her homework. Mr. Goggles hates undone work. So she should do it so Mr. Goggles does not get mad. Yes, she will do that to make him happy!

She smiles, and gets up from the comfy chair.

"Today, im happy. i wish i can get more food to stay happy."

 

[kaillll]

Betaed by the helpful breakingamber.

---

Meet the Red hood

---

"Would you two please stop following me?" A boyish voice comes out under that signature red hood, a bit muffled because of the scarf to the point that someone can easily identify her as a boy if they are not careful.

Blanchette R. Marelle, or if you don't want to piss her off with her full name, Red.

"No," says Dave, following her every step of the way, a fresh cut on the side of his neck. The fresh stitches are crude and obviously not performed by a professional surgeon. They're still bleeding.

"Nope!" Iroko adds, following Dave every step of the way, a half melted red lollipop in her hand. Judging by the smell, it's some kind of new strawberry flavor that she doesn't know about, extra sweet too.

These two have followed her ever since school restarted. She doesn't understand why, she doesn't want to know why, but she is annoyed.

It means she cannot go anywhere she wants to go because these two assholes are following her and it doesn't fucking help that the two stink of the bastard's scent.

Which, if you didn't know, means that fucking wolf.

God damn it.

Grabbing a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket, she takes one to her lips and lights it.

"Cigarettes are bad for your health!~ It makes your meat all stink like rotten eggs," says the unnaturally cherry girl. Of all her time in this hellhole of a town, she never saw this girl be this happy, not once. And they've been classmates since middle school.

…Although she never did pay too much attention to anyone else in middle school, she'd been busy with something.

"..." This Dave who calls himself Mike just keeps staring at her, his face emotionless. And there's more scars on his face than her, which is saying something. His hand is in his pocket like her… She just noticed it now but this guy is mimicking her movements.

She raises up her hand and scratches the back of her ear, and Dave does the same.
she yawns, and Dave does the same.

She walks two steps to the right, and Dave does the same.

…Okay, now she is sure of it. These two idiots are obviously trying to piss her off.

" Listen here, buddy. if you want to mimic someone like a mime go to mime school you fuck." She walks up to the tall student, poking her fingers to his chest.

… And Dave almost does the same.

"Cronen-kun, that's quite enough don't you think?" Smiling, Shiyama's hand grabs his arm and stops his hand from going any further.

"...Ok." The freak replies, the hand with saggy skin retracting. Those discolored eyes still stare at her, clearly wanting something.

Whatever it is, she is not going to give it to him.

Sigh... "Since you two are not gonna leave me alone and I could use more hands anyway, keep up," she says, and disappears into a nearby alleyway.

"...Follow," Cronen says. His hand grabs Iroko's, and they run into the same alleyway.

Although Shiyama doesn't know how he knows where Red is going, he is clearly following her, the proof being that little bit of red scarf right visible around the corner every time they turn.
'Oh this will be a fun time…'

It was, in fact, a fun time. For her at least.

---

"So I didn't lose you two fuckers on the way. Great," she says, squatting down on a big wooden crate. Her damaged scarf flows like a ribbon in the salty ocean wind.

Somehow, the two of them followed her to the docks, which is weird because normally they would need to drive for at least half an hour to get here from school. Which, translated into walking speed, is about…

Shiyama actually doesn't know how fast they were running, so she just assumes that both of them walked pretty damn fast.

"Oh, how your words hurt me, Red… If you really don't want us to follow you, you could've just disappeared into one of the warehouses on the dock. Those places are excellent hiding spots when someone is trying to find you…also! Not even an explanation for all that, Readily red Red?"

Smiling, or in the eyes of Red, a shit eating grin appears on Shiyama's face.

"... Fuck you. Never ever call me that ever again or I stab you in the fucking knee." She says this, sounding a bit angry but not really, and jumps down from the crate.

"Okay, my dear Red. Now the explanation? I think Cronen-kun wants to know too. Isn't that right? " Iroko takes Dave's arm, the smile now much more genuine. Dave looks at her and his arm that she is hugging, confused.

In confusion, people often just agree. So he just agrees.

"Yes, Mike wants to know."

"...Okay, fine." Her hands now out of her pocket, those bandaged up knuckles knock on the wooden crate. It is full of something; there's no echoing so Shiyama knows that it is completely full.

"I'm here to steal whatever is inside this." She takes out a scrap of paper from her pocket, a shipment notice with a W on the corner of it. Judging by the rest of the paper on the box, she ripped it off. "School's order. Straight from the headmaster himself. Maybe we can finally learn something about the bastard besides what he looks like and how he talks."

How messy. If she wants to work together, Shiyama needs to do something about it.

"Hmm, That's certainly interesting. You're sure you won't get in trouble?''Shiyama lets go of Cronen's arm and takes a few steps closer, a finger on the always upward corner of her lips, thinking.

She does have a switchblade in her pocket, but that's for other purposes, so she doesn't want to get wood dust on it.

Maybe she can us-

"Stealing is bad."

The big Frankenstein's Monster looking man suddenly speaks up, almost making the red-hooded girl jump in surprise.

He looks at the two of them, completely serious.

Those eyes… There is something strange in them. Something…foreign. A spark that is not quite there.

The monster is contemplating doing this, he doesn't know why Red is about to do this, why do something that leads you to trouble? Do people like being in trouble? Is this how normal people act? He always wants to be normal. Everyone is telling him to be normal. He certainly wants to do that, but….

This is normal, is this normal? He doesn't know.

"...So what? You're in or not?"

… when confused, people often just agree.

"In." he replies. Those sparks in his eyes disappeared, making the window of mind look like something artificial…something doll-like.

Humans, when in situations that could result in their downfall, often are consumed by curiosity, and it is normal.

"Okay then. Grab something and help me open this, you're the tallest one here and definitely stronger than you seem. Do your thing." Red says, looking around for any sort of metal tool that can help her on this endeavor.

Dave walks up, puts his hands on the lid of the box, and rips it off.

…Looking at the wooden crate, then looking at the tall bastard, Red laughs.

"Fine then! This makes it easier." Throwing away that piece of paper, Red walks up to the wooden crate, eyeing the contents. And after a second, she is very visibly stumped, her shoulders lowered, head almost hitting the top of whatever is in the box.

Picking the paper up and following her, Iroko looks in too, those dead eyes feeling nothing, that ever present smile seeming to grow bigger for Red.

The contents of the box are just some cans. Beans, it would seem. With some lunch meat mixed in.

"..."

"...So, was it worth it?"

"Fuck off."

"Nope!"

---

Dave puts down a big bag of canned food in front of Shiyama's front door, not even huffing despite climbing eight floors with a huge bag of very heavy food.

"Thank you Cronen-kun! " she says with a smile, hugging the man that is taller than her front door.

… He should feel good and be happy when a girl hugs him, and he made a Normal friend today, so he is happy. He is supposed to feel happy.

"You're welcome." he says, face unmoving, that cut on the side his head still bleeding, those dirty strings doing nothing to stop it.

It smells delicious… Iroko wants to just bite down on that wonderful meat on his neck, and enjoy every single drop of blood that leaks out.

The tall not-man, unbothered by the Cheshire Cat smile she is putting on, scratches the dried blood on the side of his neck, leaving bits of "human" remains on the stairs.

"Do you want to come in and take a seat? Cronen-kun? I can try to make something with all this food you know! Maybe even stay the night? There's a few empty rooms I can clean up pretty quick and I can ev-"

"No, thank you. Mike won't need it." Skin on his face stretches, forming a horrendous smile. Like the monster is trying to outperform Shiyama.
Even if the mimicry is a complete failure, the feeling it gives is the same. There is something horrible, terrible hiding beneath that smile. Something that shouldn't be there.

Fortunately, on the creepiness level, a smiling corpse wins.

Unfortunately, the smiling corpse is not smiling anymore. Her colorless eyes lock on the not-man, seemingly shocked at his refusal, but this girl never feels shocked, a dead corpse cannot feel shock, or surprise, or any feeling if that matters.

But what if a decomposed body still feels hunger? Still have a drive to seek what it lacks from the living? Bite down on the tender meat and enjoy itself and fulfill that insatiable desire humanity will always have even in death.

Smile reappears on the girl's face, this time a lot more forced. Like someone is trying to put a smile on a corpse that's already been there for half a day, the rigor mortis already sets in and muscles refuse to let go or stretch.

"It's okay, I will see you tomorrow at school, Cronen-kun." she says, putting the key into the lock of her door and getting it open.

And the monster wonders, what is this feeling? As the door closes, he wonders.

…When in confusion, people often just agree.

He did not agree, he is not normal, he is-

Dave Cronen stops thinking, and chooses to go home.

Home? He doesn't have a home. His 'home' rejected him…He has a place to sleep. He will return to that place. People often say a shelter is like a home, so this shelter for him to sleep in can count as his home. Does he need a home? Do normal people have to have a home?

What counts as a home?

…When confused, most people often give up and go back to their comfortable place. It's normal.

Gebura is waiting for him. He should go home or else he will be abnormal.

He wants to be normal.



Lying on the iron dining table, her eyes as dark as the room. A half full can of vegetables spilled on the ground, moonlight shines in though the rarely opened window, and gets reflected by the salt water. The patterns on the walls change as chunks of vegetables and salty water flow out the can.

The night wind blows in, and the blood-stained curtains dance.

…The ceiling is looking good today.

"...I'm bored." Shiyama's dead eyes close, feeling the wind on her pale skin. The coldness of it doesn't seem to bother her, as her finger taps on the iron table.

tic tic tic tic.

The table still stinks of raw flesh. it won't come off.

tic tic tic tic.

Those blood on the curtains are calling for someone. They want to be cleaned.

tic tic tic tic.

The stain on her skirt is still there. and she can hear the furnace upstairs on the balcony, burning away those bones.

tick tick ti- She stops tapping.

There's a piece of paper in her pocket.

Her hand reaches into it, hoping to take it out. Hoping that there is something interesting that can take her out of this boring hell. Her hands grab onto that sliver of hope. A crumbling piece of paper.

She takes it out, holds it in front of her face and opens her eyes.

The moonlight is just bright enough for her to read it.

"Warp Express: Shipping goods right to your doorstep."

She doesn't know this brand. She buys a lot of stuff, from kitchen wares to seasoning to fuel for burning her waste, but she never heard of this brand.

How exciting.

She looks down, unfortunately the shipment number is scratched out by someone. Possibly Red, but from what she heard from the wolf (The few times that beast actually talked with her), the girl didn't seem that careless.

And a wolf doesn't forget that easily.

Looking further down, she finds something interesting.

It's from Japan. This whole box of canned goods that she could have found in the local supermarket is from Japan, and it was supposed to arrive at the docks, for the headmaster himself to come over and pick it up.

Oh dear… what kind of idiot does that? Spending those unreasonable fees for a big box of food that anyone can find?

She decides to think the headmaster is not bright. There's at least one thing wrong with his head….which is not that weird, everyone is a bit wrong in the head! Those who are not are the weird ones!

…And that's it, that's all the thing on the paper. Rest of it was still on that crate, which Red had brought home.

How inconvenient.

This was a complete waste of her time, she thinks, as she slips down from the iron table and crumbles the paper to a tiny ball.

She pops it into her mouth and starts walking towards the comfy chair.

Oh well, at least it wasted her time. She smiles as she picks up the remote, and an exciting show starts to play.

"... What a nice smile." She says, looking at the man in the leather mask (or plastic, she can't tell) inside her TV, those dead eyes finally showing something again.

She should get a mask like that, stopping her mouth from opening itself… But that means she can't eat whenever she wants, which is dumb.

That mask is dumb, but that smile is still nice.

She hopes everyone can put on a happy smiling face like him. That way, she doesn't need to hide.

 

[kaillll]

Betaed by the helpful breakingamber!
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Ice-cream
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Nosferatu, or Louis, like what he likes to be called around these parts, is having a small panic attack.

You see, he has a friend, one of the few genuinely good friends he will ever have. Not like those fuck ups in the student council who will stop talking to him as soon as they find out that nobody is going to help them climb the ladder, because theres no ladder left for them. Not like those 'friends' his family wants him to meet, those are associates at best and future rivals at worst. Or even worse, future 'partners'... another word for parasites that won't leave you alone.

No, this is a genuine friend, the kind of friend that he can sit down and vent to without worrying about her stabbing him in the back.

He still remembers the day they met, that terrible, terrible rain… but that's a story for another day. There's a more pressing matter on hand…

This friend of his, Blanchette, or the nickname she prefers to be called, Red, sitting and eating lunch with those two.

The Corpse and her puppy.

Why does it always have to be him that deals with all the problems?

A businessman's smile appears on his face, a smile that he puts up when he has to deal with some….let's say, trouble.

"Good day Red!"

"...Oh, everyone, the tick I talked about is here." Nosferatu almost stumbled and fell to his face after hearing that, the smile breaking apart in an instant, showing an annoyed look.

"...Still...using that nickname I see."

"Yep, since you were wearing that asshole smile, I thought that'd be the best way to break you out of it." Jamming her fork into a piece of meat, she smiles with that uncovered mouth, that red teeth-patterned scarf resting on her lap. There's a gaping scar at the corner of her mouth, one of the few scars she has that is not obscured by the red hood. It makes the otherwise ordinary and even pretty face seem broken.

"So what brings you here?... Louis, right? "

Well, at least that stuck. He spent a lot of time telling her not to eat with her scarf on, and getting her to use his fake name. If it hadn't, he'd be really disappointed in both her and himself.

He should really spend more time with her, but the goddamn student council is getting busier and busier every day.

"Yeah, you remembered. So, are you going to introduce me to your new pals here or not?"

Sitting down next to the redhead who is looking longingly at the plastic knife in those deformed hand, he looks at the corpse-like girl who is sitting adjacent to him and the redhead.

Truth be told, he already knows a bit about them. That redhead that got into EINSOF because the school has to follow a government mandate and the corpse in the school rumors.

… Ever since that mandate came down the three brothers have been the king of this place, and what good did that do…

If he remembered it right, there's total of five students that are accepted into the school because of that mandated program, something about recovering and helping troubled youth.

Seriously, President Hyeonun needed to organize his papers better. He could find every single classified document just by snooping around his desk when he was out. The man relied on Braille keeping his secrets, well, secret. Not the smartest idea to be honest, Anyone with a phone, a bit of curiosity, and a shitton of boredom can figure out what is on the paper after spending an hour or two.

…All in the name of curiosity, of course. He doesn't really have that much malicious motive, but simply getting some information is always good.

…Hmm, let's see…Dave Cronen, after being saved from a cultist base, his family rejected him and basically disowned him. But thankfully because of that program, he was put under one of the teachers of the school to take care of…Ms. Gebura, if he remembered it right.

Shiyama Iroko…. Kidnapping victim. Was one of the central pieces of that cannibalism group case 7 years ago… Got out of the orphanage three years ago after clearing out her identity…Has been living alone ever since… which means…Hun, Nosferatu doesn't really remember how this girl got in. As far as he knows, she isn't the part of the deal that the headmaster made with the City Council. Just doesn't add up, since Every single one in that mandate has a caretaker.

…Wait. Oh right. The Shiyamas were rich. And this girl is the only one left of that family line… That explains it. God, poor girl.

"Do I really need to introduce these two to you? I mean, you are a member of the student council, you can just go and take a look at their papers right? Why don't you go do that and I finish my lunch, hmm?" Red says, her hand playing with that fork with a piece of pork on it.

"Oh come on, you aren't mad about me not calling you the past few days right?" Not intentionally, of course, he was simply busy with something… Something confidential. Anyway, that's not related to the situation at hand. "And we both know that I don't have that kind of clearance anymore, not ever since we changed student council presidents."

"Piss off with your boldfaced lies. The corner of your left eye still twitches every time you try." Red says, clearly getting cocky.

Oh, two can play that game.

A smile appears on his face as he leans in, a fork from nowhere appears in his hand, and he spears a piece of meat off Red's overfilled tray.

"But I don't want to, you know? I already sat down, you might as well get on with this… If you do, I can buy you something. Still have some change in my pocket, and I can treat your friends here too if that's what you want." The fork takes the overseasoned pork close to his mouth and he takes a bite.

… He might need to buy some water after this, maybe some mouthwash too.

"Doesn't fit your taste, pretty face?"

He swallows the rotting meat.

"No no, it's perfectly fine! It's pretty good, actually! So would you please, please introduce me to your friends here?" He says with a clearly forced smile. The tall man next to him is barely reacting while the girl sitting right in front of him is close to breaking down in laughter.

Good for her.

"P-pp..pew- pahahahahahah… AH-HAHAHA! Fine! Seeing that you are being so genuine today. I, your dear friend Blanchette · Ruby · Marelle, accept your request," she says, the smugness level off the charts.

He is going to kill her for this.

…A second passes, then another, then another.

"So?"

"I don't know their names. They just walked over and decided to eat with me."

"..."

He is going to fucking kill her for this.

"If you two are done, I can introduce myself, you know?" The black hair girl suddenly speaks, her smile is a lot more natural than his right now, and that goddamn smile is the smile of a corpse.

The taste of that goddamn rotting pork is still in his mouth…

"Oh! Of course! How silly of me." His head turns, facing the black-haired girl sitting next to Red, who is laughing like a dysfunctional leaf blower. "Just trying to talk more with my old friend, you see. I haven't spoken with her in a good bit… "

"It's OK! I'm Shiyama Iroko. Red called you Louis, so I will call you that too!"

" Shiyama Iroko…oh! You're the one in the school rumors I see. Yes, yes, I'm Louis, I presume you two quick friends of Red must have heard a lot about me… I've heard a lot about you too, I must say you're nothing like the rumors said you were!" he lies.

This girl is everything the rumors warned him about. The stench of blood around her is extremely noticeable, to him at least. That pale corpse-like skin and those dead eyes looking at him is creepy, but nothing compared to that smile.

God, that smile… No wonder the butterfly hates her, nothing about her face is natural to the human eye. A smiling, walking corpse should not exist. They are monsters of modern films and should never exist in real life, yet here she stands.

Looking at him, with those dulled pupils.

Eyes of a dead girl.

God, how he wants to puke, that piece of pork in his stomach makes him feel like he ate a rotting corpse, a piece of meat he took from Shiyama's rotten body.

"..." She stares at him, smiling, her expression unreadable… She blinked, showing her snow white teeth with a bigger, more deformed smile.

…Fucking hell, that smell is definitely blood. Humans blood.

"Thank you," she says with that disturbing smile.

He really, really doesn't want to be here right now.

Turning to the side, the businessman regains his composure.

"And you must be Dave!"

The stitched-together man looks at Nosferatu, seemingly thinking about something, then suddenly a smile that's much more memorable and only a bit less disturbing than Shiyama's appears on his face.

"Mike. Meeting you is nice." Stretching out his unnaturally saggy hand, he wants Nosferatu to shake his hand.

…He seriously doesn't want to touch this man's hand, but that would be both impolite and suspicious, so he forces himself to reach out… and shakes "Mike's" hand.

"Mike?...But, your name is Dave, correct?" He already knows his name of course, but Mike …huh, so that rumor about him calling himself different names is correct. Nosferatu puts on a bit of a frown, showing the others that he's confused.
He's not, by the way.

"...Mike. Name is Mike. " The stitched together man says, smile disappearing as soon as he is finished. And he's back to cutting the meat in his tray.

… Who bothers to cut meat into hundreds of small bits? Nevermind the fact that he is not even eating it, just cutting and cutting and cutting.

…Fuck it, not his problem.

"Just call him Dave, he doesn't care if you call him Mark or Dave or Mike."

"...Sigh, okay."

"Now that you know both of them, why are you here? Last I remember you are doing some business with…" Quickly he picks up the fork and shoves another piece of meat into her mouth.

"Confidential, you know how it is." He smiled as his friend almost chokes on that piece of rotten meat, After a few seconds of chewing she swallows and looks at him.

"Fine. Did I mention how much I hate your taste in clothing, emo boy?" Oh no, not this again.

"Oh, yeah, I'm wondering the same! Care to explain why, Louis?" Shiyama looks at him. The two girls in front of him smile so cockily that it must have created some kind of singularity of smugness.

"Listen here, you two, I don't wear these kind of clothes because I'm emo. I just hate whatever the fuck my family thinks is acceptable clothing! And Red you stop bringing this up, goddamn it!"

"P-S-sure, of course." Goddamn it. She's going to bring this up again.
"Ok~" And no wonder Red tolerates her, fucking hell. These two devils are going to kill him.

"Anyway, still have some pocket money, yeah?"

…. His spine shivers, Nosferatu is really regretting his life choices now.

Fucking hell. If he were to tell the two girls sitting in front of him that their eyes were the splitting image of the fucking wolf's… He'd get hacked to death by Red in a bloody awful event. And then his corpse would be Shiyama's lunch.

Guess he's buying lunch.

---

"Mike likes ice-cream." Dave says, his doglike tongue licking the vanilla and strawberry flavored ice-cream happily. Shiyama hugs his unoccupied right hand, eating the same flavor without a care in the world.

"Agree, so why didn't you brought me here before you fucker?" With a black chocolate flavor in her hand, Red looks at him, the hood finally down because the chocolate ice cream might dirty the fabric.

Nosferatu stops licking his dark blood-like cherry ice cream and gives her a look.

Her dyed brown hair is messy and unkempt, the original gold color growing back out again. Deep scars made by something sharp pop out on her left eye. It doesn't work anymore, making the otherwise beautiful golden eyes broken, shattered. The scars on her face are very noticeable. Not something that some makeup can just cover up.

… He is going to deal with Victor one way or another for that.


"I have told you again and again that I was busy, the whole student council is very busy these days… Ever since the new president started going mad with the rules."
Seriously, thank God the actually important people (him, Rosh, and Marie, none of those chair-fillers will put up a fight against the Saes' policies and rules or they get kicked out) are trying to tell him to calm down. And it's working; otherwise the papers alone would cost the student council 80% of its supply budget.

Sigh, he licks his blood-cherry ice-cream, at least that horrible pork taste is gone now.

"Damn, too bad for you. Answer the question." Red says, squinting her eye.

"... I'm saving up for something, satisfied?"

"...Satisfied."

Fuck, the taste is back, fuck him.

 

[Lichzim]

This fic is fun. Can't wait for Plague Doctor to be the schools nurse

 

[kaillll]

Betaed by the helpful breakingamber!

---

The Secretary of The Student Council President sent her regards

---

The room is dark. The fluorescent lights are turned on, of course, but the mountains of documents and stacks of books block nearly all illumination from reaching the middle of the room, where a young girl sits, hands blurring in motion.

"..." Despite her eyes being covered, her writing is perfect and everything is in perfect order. Her fluffy hair is a bit messy but clearly well kept, reflecting a bright shade of green even under the dull light of the secretary's office.

One has to wonder why she chose that shade of green. A bit on the paler side, of course, but that is still neon green! Arguably unfitting for a student council member.

A little pile of broken pens rests peacefully next to a clearly full trash can, crumpled up papers overflowing.

Ideas for implementing policies, from stricter rules about school uniforms to a new school ID system. Security measures to make last semester's incident never happens again, and to her, a necessary step for the safety of the entire student body.

Now useless once again because those three have yet again changed President Hyeonun's mind.

She would need to go see the record keeper and ask Louis for an updated budget. And have a talk with the vice president too. If all of President Hyeonun's peers agree with him, then it will be too easy for him to push his agenda, with the remaining voices too scared to dissent.

He is too easily persuaded… That cannot do.

Her hand grabs a mug of cold coffee; nothing too fancy like what Mr. Chesed recommended to her. Just some instant coffee: quick, efficient and effective, doesn't need her to think too much about it. Pour hot water, stir, and that's it.

She needs to clean that spot of spilled coffee off the table or else it is going to stain permanently. Later, she still has papers for class that need to be edited, most which are due tomorrow.

She needs to send some of this paperwork back to Louis. The bastard keeps pushing his paperwork off to others, just so he can have a day off whenever he likes. No matter, she will just simply add some more to his plate. Not like he has the right to refuse.

Throwing the now empty pen into the pile, she grabs another from her drawer.

"...!" Her hand stops, something is vibrating, what is it? Where is it?

Oh, yes, she forgot.

Putting aside a stack of documents, she picks up a very outdated phone from where it was hiding underneath them. Strangely enough, even though the model clearly doesn't support it, it can receive voice messages, even text messages.

A notification pops up on her phone, giving the dimly lit room a bit more light. Despite her eyes being covered by a layer of white cloth, her fingers open the application precisely.

A message from Suho, voice message of course. He is not so inconsiderate as to send her a text.

He considers too much. He worries too much.

Schedule a meeting, me and Hyeonun need to talk, keep this off the record.

Rosh is not going to like that, Yuki thinks. She wants everything on the record, an old habit learned from Mr. Hokma.

May I ask why?

Family business. The same reason as last time. What did he do this time?

She sighs. Taking out the Council schedule, she crosses out a few events that President Hyeonun doesn't need to attend, reschedules a few meetings, which means she needs to make a few phone calls, and a few events that she can attend in his place.

Putting down her pen, she takes another sip of stale black coffee. The bitterness assaults her tongue, but at this point she is used to it.

Understood. Is tomorrow afternoon acceptable?

Yes, thank you. Also don't drink that much coffee; it's very very bad for you.

Of course. She types in her phone while taking another sip of her cold, bitter, disgusting coffee. Also, there have been a few student complaints, mainly about you regarding some bags. You are already on thin ice with Mr. Yesod. Please do not make me remind you again that you do not have the right to search through your fellow students' backpacks.

The reply came quickly.

I will not have a repeat of last year's incident. I will take whatever measures I see fit to make sure nothing like it ever happens again.

The worst part was that he meant it. If he'd been insincere, condescending, perhaps Yuki could have hated him. But no. He genuinely cared that much about the other students' safety. He would do whatever it takes to make sure that everyone will be safe in the school. To make sure a mistake like that would never be repeated.

Sigh. He'd been like this ever since Ai left the student council, and even if she, by some miracle, came back, he'd never change.

… Maybe she should schedule a meeting between him and Mr. Roland, the two of them might be able to figure something out.

… Dragging herself back into reality, her fingers start typing again.

But blatantly breaking the school rules and privacy laws is not the answer. We can request the Headmaster for better security. There are other options available than taking things into your own hands.

He doesn't respond.

He never responds to her questions, her suggestions.

But she already knows his answer.

And look how that turned out.

…She can still hear some of the voices, calling out to her…

Taking a deep breath, she puts her phone down and stands up. She needs to take a few documents to the nurses office… Yes, she will do that now.

She will do that now.

---

"Right, you are telling me you don't know how that wound showed up on your neck. Again," A tired voice says, gloved hands carefully removing the cruel stitches. He wonders how a teenage kid can do this to himself, the cutting to the stitching it back, without Gebura catching him in the act.

A pair of scissors slowly cuts open those blood-red strings. And the tweezers pull them out, one by one.

No matter how many times he does it, he never gets used to it.

"Yes." The boy says without hesitation, eyes unblinking. He didn't put any sort of painkillers in the boy's system. The boy just doesn't seem to react at all, even though he should be in excruciating pain right now.

He sighs and puts down the tweezers.

It's only Wednesday and this is the 3rd time this week. Fifteenth time this month. If not for that NDA he signed with the headmaster, this boy would be in the hospital right now. And not just for that wound, mind you.

Picking up a bottle of disinfectant and soaking that piece of cloth in his hand, his hand gently scrubbed the wound, cleaning it and killing off the bacteria.

The boy didn't even twitch, his eyes staring blankly into the mirror on the other side of the room, thinking about something.

The red-haired boy's reflection, looking at the green-haired man, as still as a painting…is he even breathing? Did he blink at all? He takes out a roll of fresh bandages, putting those thoughts behind him just so he could have a good night's sleep.

The boy's wound does not need stitches. The flesh will grow back before the weekends.

"...Is it done yet Mr. Netzach? I'm rather bored now and my dinner won't prepare themself you know?" a girl adds, sitting in that spare chair by the open window, hands hugging her knees, black untied hair resting on her shoulder and covering her face.

Yet, those black hairs can not hide them, those strange eyes…

Those eyes, unmoving, disinterested, looking like all the soul has been sucked out of her and all that is left is an empty husk…a dead, empty, smiling husk. And if he is being honest, that's probably true, considering that she was a victim of those freaks. Whatever happened to Shiyama Iroko, he hopes that she will pull through.

But why did she follow Frankenstein's teenaged monster here? He does not know and does not want to know.

Whatever it is, it is not his problem… Ayin will be the one that has to deal with it.

Oh, but how he wishes he does not have to deal with this every week…

"...Right, just a seco-." Netzach does not get to finish that sentence, as a green-haired girl pushes open the door with such force that several medicine bottles fall down from the open cabinet and the tools, previously resting on the tray next to him, scatter across the ground.

Blood paints the tiles under him and the boy crimson. Like someone splashing red paint on a blank canvas.

Thank God that this room does not have a wooden floor. Netzach would rather change the floorboards then scrape the blood out of them.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Mr. Netzach!" The short girl quickly puts the stack of papers in her small hands on his desk and kneels down. "Here, let me help you…"

Her hand grabs blood-stained scissors and completely stops.

Netzach wants to go home.

"Am I… interrupting something? What is… Oh." She puts the scissors gently on the table, letting the blood stained tool rest on those papers she brought. Her eyes, covered by a thick layer of white cloth, seemingly unable to see. Yet she knows exactly what is happening.

"Dave Cronen is here for his checkup. Aren't they?"

… If he remembered correctly about the student health records Chesed sent to him, her eyes have a condition which causes them to be extremely fragile and sensitive to light... Scleritis, he presumes.

Netzach sighs and replies, his voice even more tired than before, "Yes, Ms. Yuki… Does the student council need me or something? To be honest, I'm really tired for today, so can it wait?"

Iroko, deathly quiet, watches the situation with utter glee on her face.

Oh, this will be fun, she thinks to herself.

The corpse does not need entertainment, yet it desires it nonetheless.

"And judging by the smell… Shiyama Iroko is here as well."

The smile disappears. This is not fun anymore.

"Hello." Dave waves his hand, not caring about his open wound leaking red juices and his shirt getting all red. "How are you? Nice to see…you!"

"Hiya, Yuki chan!∼'' Iroko adds, jumping down from the chair and walking right next to the taller-then-Netzach boy, not caring in the slightest that she is stepping on delicate surgical tools. Netzach makes a pained expression and Yuki's face adopts a slight frown. "What a wonderful afternoon it is! Am I right, Cronen-kun?"

Dave looked at the smiling girl, then showed his own smile to Netzach and Yuki, but since Yuki can't see with those covers, only Netzach can see that horrible face.

He is… somewhat used to it by now…

"...Good afternoon, and nice to see you too Mr. Dave and Ms. Shiyama." Yuki says, her head lowers for a second, thinking of something and suddenly looks back up again, facing directly at the boy with some loose and bloody bandages on his neck. Then she opens her mouth and says politely, "Forgive me, but can both of you do me a favor and leave so I and Mr. Netzach can have a private conversation?"

"Check up not done. Mike can't leave. Gebura gets angry." Dave turned his head towards the short stack, disregarding the wound on his neck getting stretched and reopened.

"I quite like the smell here, and I go wherever Cronen-kun goes!" Netzach is 95% sure that by the smell, she means the blood on Dave's clothes and upper body.

"I must insist, Dave, if you are inconvenienced by this, I can apologize later but right now I really need to-" she was stopped by Netzach's hand patting her on the head.

"...Um, hate to interrupt here… but I can talk after I finish up with Dave…Mike…Whatever just, wait for a sec. If that's okay?"

"...Of course."

---

Netzach closes the door to the infirmary and locks it, his fingers lingering on the door handle for a second.

He looks at the scenery outside. The golden afternoon sun covering the empty school grounds in a perfect orange hue. The noises of teenage boys complaining about the up-coming exams and the chance of someone falling in love with them. The sound of students leaving after their club activities…the feeling of closing his eyes and just forgetting it all with her….

A world that he cannot go back to.

A cough escapes his throat as Netzach turns around and looks at the overworked girl, sitting on an empty bed that he usually sleeps in. She looks downward at her hands, which are resting on her knees. Even though her eyes are covered, he can still see the exhausted eyebags, somehow even worse than his own during his med school years. The stink of coffee and ink is noticeable from more than a few meters away. The green hair, much like his, is unkempt, messy, but you can tell that it wasn't always that messy, a symptom of someone presumably overworking themself, just like Chesed.

Walking over to the window and grabbing the empty chair that Iroko was sitting on, Netzach sits down in front of Yuki.

"...So…Ms. Yuki… What brings you here today?"

"..." She slowly looks up, and the eyes under the white cloth look straight at him.

The two sit in silence for a moment, with Netzach suppressing his urge to cough at Yuki's face, as the clock on the wall slowly ticks to 16:00.

"...I…Don't know."she whispers, her voice quieter than a feather falling, Netzach can't even really make it out. "I don't know why."

Netzach looks at the girl. his hand quietly takes out his phone and presses the record button.

"I was..working on some files… and talking with someone, then…I just felt like I needed to leave, to just…run away, to somewhere else than… there." her head lowers again, those fragile pale fingers grabbing the fabric of her uniform, the anger slowly bowling at the bottom of her heart. "I just…feel that I can't stay there, that I need to… stand up and do something. anything."

"...so, I ran. I grabbed the first excuse I could find…and ran away."

Her head turned towards those messy stained papers on Netzach's desk, some of it lying on the ground. The afternoon wind blows through the window, a faint scent of sea fills the room.

She hates it.

"...Were you feeling unwell at the moment?"

"No. Not really…" she is lying, her stomach was hurting the whole week, her head is killing her right now, the bitterness in her mouth just refuses to go away…her eyes…when was her last check up? She can't even remember.

"...is it because of things at the student council? "

"..." she stays quiet, her already lowered head looking away.

Things were always bad at the student council, she was always busy, Louis is alway looking for a way to run away, Maria just wanders off to the nowhere town in her head, Rosh never listens to Hyeonun no matter what is going on and the rest of them just ignore her, like she wasn't even there. Like she doesn't even matter.
Maybe they are right… Nobody listens to her anyway, nobody cares if she represents president Hyeonun or not. After all… Why should they care about a failure that can't help anyone?

"...Is it because of the incident?" she finches, scoops up her legs and burying her face in her knees.

…it's all because of her, isn't it? if only she pushed Hyeonun a little harder…if only she didn't give out those keys to him. Maybe things won't become so bad. Why is she always not doing enough? If only she did more, if only she looked through that mask of his a bit sooner…Why is she such an idiot?

Why? Is she so blinded by this cloth on her stupid face that she can't see the sense and reason of a person? Is she so blinded by the feeling of having a friend that she can't even tell if they are good or not?! Why does the only friend she had in her goddamn life have to be a fraud! a trickster! a murderer!

Why can't she just get something right in her life!? Why is she the only one in the family that has to wrap this goddamn piece of fabric on her face!?
Oh how she wishes that she can just wrap her hands around his neck, to squeeze the life out of him…

but it won't fix anything. she made a mistake that she can not bear…

"No one will know what you say here. it's ok. let it out…"

…So she opens her mouth, and screams.

---

Iroko, leaning on the wall next to the door to the infirmary, smiles as she listens to the cry of that annoying shortstack.

How interesting, how fun….

Oh don't get her wrong, she is not planning to use the cry of a frustrated girl against her, she just enjoys the noise of that scream, some say that screaming is bad for everyone but what do they know! She likes screaming, it's funny! how these people shout out the foulest of the curses even though nobody will ever hear their voice ever again. their last lines of words on this world full of corpses, cursing the so-called god for letting them die in her hands…Even though it was their own action that led them towards the doom they deserved.

Oh the screams…Wanting to grab onto even the smallest chance of escaping certain death, the desire to stay alive…the last way for a person to say they are alive, living! Breathing! ALIVE!…before it got sniffed out. leaving a dead husk on the ground, a new cut of fresh meat for her.

she wonders if her voice can reach that note, it might damage the eardrums of anyone next to her, but why not give it a try? A quiet giggle leaks out of her as she swallows a piece of fresh meat, blood flows down from the corner of her mouth as she chews the new cut.

"Oh… What fun it will be… " announcing her thought out loud, the meat lover hops away. The owner of the flesh looks at the seemingly happy-go-lucky girl, smiles, and follows her footsteps. the overly large red-head, walking like a young little girl, following her movement, and close up the fresh cut on his arm.

…leaving only a faint smell of blood behind.

---

sorry that this taked so long, school is a bitch and a half