The bell rang, loud enough to make your ears ring a little, and Class F's fight was winding down.
Selina darted out like someone was chasing her with rabid dogs—honestly, I half expected a yelp behind her.
Cyrus was injured. A fancy kid. Not really a match for a boxer's son. But hey, fights at school? They have limits. Everyone's family background was a minefield—tap the wrong one, kaboom.
Sitting next to Anya, Leon was sweating bullets over something on his screen. Fingers moving like tiny jackhammers. His forehead shiny enough to reflect the classroom lights. The kid looked like he was trying to solve the mysteries of the universe with a keyboard.
Anya glanced at his screen, calm as a monk. "Line 340. Transmission error."
Leon blinked. Cursor jumped. Checked it. Eyes lit up like someone had just found a hidden treasure.
"Thanks!" he said. Really, like he might cry or something. Then resumed typing like nothing happened.
And boom—everyone in Class F looked. Seriously. You could cut the silence with a knife. Leon wasn't the talking type. Never. Never. He'd make a word count as rare as a solar eclipse. And yet… he thanked her? What the heck.
Anya smirked. "You're welcome."
The class? Staring. Hearts probably audibly thumping. "Did Anya just…?" whispers buzzed.
"Hey, Anya, can I ask you something?" Crystal leaned forward, arms crossed. Tall, sharp. The kind of girl whose silhouette could slice through the air.
Anya looked up. "What?"
Crystal smirked, glancing at everyone else. You know that look. The "we're all gonna watch this" look. Classic.
"I heard… some stuff. Was it true or not? If it's true… how are you even here today?" she said, sizing Anya up like a predator measuring prey.
Some boys whispered—probably trying to sound casual while peeking over their books.
But Anya? Calm. Ice cold. Eyes like someone just turned the thermostat to Antarctica.
"Rumors without evidence? Best keep your mouth shut. There's a saying—trouble comes from the mouth."
Crystal turned pale. "What do you mean, Anya?! Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?!"
Before she could finish, Anya's legs moved. Lightning. Crystal's arm was pinned to the desk. Her whole body tilted with the force. You could almost hear her dignity cracking.
"No one taught you manners? Let me do it," Anya said, icy. Upper body didn't move. Not a millimeter. Just legs. Pure, controlled leg power.
Class-wide jaws dropped. Even Hector looked like he'd seen a ghost.
This level of control? You'd need the focus of a monk who's also part ninja, okay?
For Anya, usually ignored at the bottom of Class F, Hector had to squint harder, reevaluating everything he thought he knew.
"Anya, let go!" Crystal yelled. Struggle? Useless. Legs like iron cables.
One girl swung a chair at Anya.
"Bitch!"
The chair flew—like a missile. Anya barely moved. Crystal got kicked toward the girl, chair smack following. Sounds? Like a drum solo in hell, I dunno, someone tried to make it a symphony of pain.
"Ah!"
Silence. Everyone frozen. Eyes on Anya like she was a mythical creature, realer than reality itself.
Crystal's glare could melt steel.
Anya's gaze swept the class, calm as a lake—but underneath, every muscle coiled like a cat ready to pounce. Her legs had ten kilos of sandbags tied to them. Each kick heavier than her own body. The weight of a small moon, maybe.
She stood slowly. Taller than any girl there, shadow stretching like it had a mind of its own.
"Classmates. I don't wanna hurt my own. But… next time?" Lips curled. "It won't just be a leg move."
She knew Purple Star Academy's rules: everyone had firepower, parents stay out. Cross that line, and everyone despises you. Even if you grow rich, even if you climb the ladder—you'll be alone, mate.
So Anya knew—this? Safe. Family untouched.
Crystal scowled. Wanted revenge. Stopped by Hector. One glance. Boom.
Anya smiled politely at Hector, unfamiliar but civil, then walked out.
"Hector!" Crystal whined.
"What's the point of hitting your own class?" Hector said.
"Then why fight with Cyrus?" Crystal snapped.
Cyrus swaggered over, draping an arm on Hector's shoulder. Striking a pose like he was auditioning for a cheesy romantic comedy. "We weren't fighting, just sparring~"
Hector shoved him. "Get lost."
"Humph!" Crystal's teeth clenched. She would get back at her, oh yes.
Anya left. School familiar from memory, yes. But now, in the flesh? New vibes. Exciting.
This might be her base for a while. Who knows. Maybe forever. Maybe not.
"Wow… when did Class F get such a hot transfer?" a girl whispered.
"That's Anya! Short hair, pants, notorious fighter," another girl scoffed.
"And I heard…" Gossip, you know how it goes.
Their eyes shifted. From admiration to disgust. Boys? Rolling eyes. Classic.
Anya glanced. Thought maybe, just maybe, she should chat with Luna later.
She stepped forward. And then… blocked. A wall. Human, breathing, probably judging.
The bodies were everywhere. I counted—actually no, I stopped counting; didn't matter.