This is kind of awkward. I never really considered writing a fanfiction, and this is my first one so thanks to anyone who reads it.

My great friend awesomeo123 finally convinces me to write one and two weeks later, KHR ends. Ain't that swell?

Anyways, here goes nothing.

Chapter 1 - You're Violent

It was a very ordinary day when I first met him.

Wait, scratch that.

It was a very ordinary day when I first met...it.

You see, when one considers himself as a 'carnivore', he is, in fact, degrading himself to the level of an animal.

Stupid, really.

Why would any normal person want to lower himself to such an inferior race?

So anyways.

It was a very ordinary day when I first met it.

And now that I look back, I really should have made a better first impression.

No, not to it. What difference would that have made? No, I meant the student body. I should have made a better first impression to my classmates.

Ah well, too late now.

"Move."

I blinked and looked up, slightly confused. For a moment, I wasn't sure if I even heard correctly. It was pretty early in the morning, thus the corridor was mostly empty. People didn't seem to want to come to school so early for their first day back. So, even someone with a severe case of bulimia would be able to weave around leisurely. I didn't see why I had to 'move'.

And besides, I was totally not bothered.

Like, seriously, the momentum I had, completely disappeared the moment my motion stopped. I was so not screwed to muster the energy necessary to just steer from my intended course.

So I looked up from my very interesting iPod and glared at the not-so-very interesting obstruction. The dude glared back. I saw that he was really wearing slightly different uniform, and honestly...he was kinda short. And not very...buff. For a guy, that is.

So, seeing that he too, didn't seem like he wanted to move his ass, I, very calmly and politely, said, "Stuff you. Move yourself."

"I'll bite you to death."

...Say what?

See, this was what I heard; kamikorosu. And what my mind translated that to was, kami-god and korosu-to kill. So I was like...kill God? Or did he mean kill paper? Or was it kill hair…?

So, since I didn't know what the hell he was saying, I stood there and raised an eyebrow.

There was an awkward silence.

It seemed to me that he was waiting for a reaction. He was sorely disappointed.

Then he pulled out some...metal thingies. All I could think was that they were shiny. It was so cool, like, when he lifted them above his head, they caught the light of the sun and glinted in the bright light. It was like, dramatic epic moment.

Then I realised, a little too late, what the hell he was doing.

Oh shit.

He whacked my shoulder and I fell on my butt.

Ow… I put my iPod away, and glared up at the retard. He had a blank-ish face and was staring down at me.

I didn't like that. See, I kind of have this issue with feeling smaller than people. So if people were in a room with chairs, and no-one sat, even if I was really, really tired, I still wouldn't sit down. Because I just hate the feeling of people looking down at me, literally and figuratively.

So I groaned and stood up, facing him again. Man my shoulder stung like hell. So this guy wants a piece of me? I calmly folded my arms over my chest. I'd like to see him try.

He didn't move. I wasn't completely sure, but it seemed like my lack of reaction pissed him off a bit more.

There was silence.

Crickets chirped.

I brushed my fringe behind my ear.

He still stayed frozen.

…What a loser.

Then I noticed some flashy thingo on his arm. Oh, it was an armband. A very fancy looking armband.

I couldn't read it.

It's a sad fact, I know, but I just can't read things in fancy font. Like calligraphy; all the letters just blend together and I just can't see where one ends and where another starts…

So I squinted and unconsciously leaned closer.

Fu...u…fuu...ki…fuuki?

Fuck?

The bastard conveniently chose my moment of confusion to slam my face with his sticks.

I took a step back, but he still got me and I, once again, crumpled elegantly to the floor. I gently cradled my throbbing head and tried to maintain consciousness.

I got up and fully unleashed my rage in his face.

"I hate guys," I muttered darkly as my vision had started to blur from the rage.

Or maybe that was just what happens when someone slams your skull with a solid object. Like HARD FUCKING METAL.

He ignored me and lashed out again.

Now I was pissed. What the hell was this guy's PROBLEM?!

I was not going to just stand there and get beaten up by some guy. I lunged at him aiming for his...uh...private parts.

I missed.

He once again whacked my head that sailed under his arm.

Why did the floor have to be so frigging hard? At least the damn freak had the decency to let me get up before he attacked me again. I tried to kick his legs, but he sidestepped it and...HIT ME ON THE HEAD.

OH MAH FREAKING GAWD.

I NEED MY INTELLIGENCE GODDAMN IT. And I'm not going to have any left if a hooligan keeps on WHACKING MY FUCKING HEAD.

This time, he didn't wait for me to get back up.

I finally knew why all those bully victims are always curled up on the ground. When you're up against a lot of people, or in my case; a nutcase with insane strength, it's so much easier to just protect yourself.

Namely, my HEAD.

The pain was unbelievable. At least he was hitting places other than my head too. Which kinda didn't make much of a difference.

Suddenly I looked up because the continuous string of beatings had stopped.

I slowly peeked out from under my arms to look up at the asshole. I pondered whether I should get up, or if that would just be a waste of energy since he would probably just beat me to the ground again.

Ah, who gives a crap.

I got up, with much difficulty because MY WHOLE FRIGGING EXISTENCE HURT LIKE HELL. I looked the freak in the eye and slowly put one hand on my hip.

I didn't see it coming. He swung his thing so fast it blurred.

And thus, I oh-so-gracefully blacked out. And probably face-planted the floor.

It was at that moment when I realized…isn't fuuki like disciplinary committee or some crap like that?

"Kami Kaze! Is there a Kami-kun here?"

"Hai sensei. I'm here," I muttered, slowly raising my hand. My head still hurt from the morning's…encounter, with a certain individual.

"I don't think she's here today, sensei,"Kurokawa Hana answered, looking around the classroom.

"Oi, class rep, I'm here. I. Am. Here," I called, a little louder, banging a fist onto the table. Aw man, I shouldn't have done that. Refraining from hissing out loud, I pressed an icepack to my shoulder.

"Ah, it's a shame. Does anyone here know her?"

"I heard she was a transfer student from the private school in the town next over," a boy piped up.

"According to my friend, she's really hard to notice! But she's super smart…"

I faceplamed. Hard to notice? No shit, man…

Then some girl decided to ruin the mood. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, "Apparently, this morning, Hibari-san beat her up for something. She's probably a delinquent…"

Huh, so that's what his name was…Hibari. Sounds gay.

"Okay class, quiet down, I'll just mark her as away. If anyone sees her, please let me know."

Slightly angry, I stood up and walked towards the teacher at the front of the class.

And I slapped him. "I am present, se-n-se-i."

Silence.

…

Maybe I'll just spend the rest of the day in the infirmary…

"Tadaima," I called out as I walked into the house. It was rare that my mother actually let me walk the five-minute distance back home from the station. She was the paranoid, overprotective, control-freak type, you know? I walked around the house and finally found her sleeping on the couch.

…What, did she waste too much energy shopping?

I sighed and went back to my room. Sinking onto my bed I took off the precautionary gear that was meant to hide my bruises from my mother.

It hurt everywhere.

Man that bastard was going to pay. Do you have any idea how hard it is to hide injuries when they cover more than 70% of your body? I don't even want to know what my mum would do if she found out.

So, now, what to do as payback…

I have no knowledge of self defense, whatsoever. I blame my mother completely. She wouldn't let me take martial arts lessons, because I 'have no self-control'. Apparently. She tends to think that people who aren't naturally peaceful will use their martial arts knowledge in the real world, against other people. Like my father. But that's a story for another time.

I suppose I have considered it using it on other people … but still, it is necessary for my survival in reality, you know? I tried telling her of the possibilities that would happen if I couldn't defend myself; kidnappers, serial killers, bullies, stalkers…

Her solution?

Use your brain. People who use their brains don't end up in those situations.

Like, the fuck?

So… if I use my brain:

On a dark and stormy night, a young girl walked down an abandoned alleyway. She had her umbrella at the ready, in case the grey storm clouds above let out their heavy load. Lightning lit the sky, highlighting shadows of creatures unknown. She quickly hurried down the road and as the rain started pouring down, a figure clad in black stepped out into the moonlight, blocking the female's way.

A cloud flew over and suddenly covered the moon. The only other light source available was a yellow flickering streetlamp.

The girl stopped in her tracks, pausing to see whether the stranger was a friend or foe.

The stranger slowly advanced towards the girl and leisurely pulled out a knife. It glinted menacingly in the murky light of the streetlamp.

The girl began to slowly retreat back the way she had come as the figure calmly stalked his prey.

Then, the girl swiftly pulled out…

A pen and a notebook.

Resting her open umbrella on her shoulder to protect the paper from getting wet, she pointed the pen at the stranger.

"Judging by the distance you have travelled and how fast you travelled it, I conclude that you are advancing on me at an average speed of about two kilometres per hour! If I move at a speed of three kilometres per hour, I can easily outrun you!"

The girl quickly jotted something down in her book.

"But that is only if I choose the flight option! If I decided to stay and fight, I'd also have a pretty good chance! Judging by how dim the light being reflected off your knife is, I'd say the lustre of your weapon is not very high, thus I can safely conclude that it is of poor quality. Meaning that its Moh's Law rank is around 4. Aluminium is a six. I just so happen to have an aluminium bottle in my bag. I can easily defeat you!"

…

Yeah, sure mum. Use my brain. That's going to be real effective.

I wonder why she has an anti-stalker kit when she is all for 'using the brain'.

Hang on…lightbulb.

She has an anti-stalker kit. It has a taser (don't ask me why, I kinda assumed they were illegal, but never look a gift horse in the mouth, right?).

Taser = electricity.

Electricity is conducted by metal.

Guess who has nice big shiny metal thingies that they carry around near their body?

Uhh, this is a collaboration story with awesomeo123. awesomeo123 wrote most of the story and it was her original idea.

Feel free to give me any constructive criticism, typos or just random stuff you want to share...

Falcone out.

And please, it's not pronounced the same as Batman's Falcone. It's: fal-CONE. Like ice cream CONE.

Thank you.