Spirito hauled tail to escape two new bullies. Why was it always the older students? He turned a corner of a hallway and sped through its length to turn again and twist his path in an almost figure-eight to lose them. Of course, he was now further away from his Sune class than he wanted. With quick steps, he took a few more turns and waited at one corner to see if they kept to his trail. Thankfully, they were only the taunting version as they followed him in the halls. His usual hallway companions, Chance or Brun, could not meet with him today. And of course, the waiting ended for those who watched for him to be alone. It was just another day at the academy, it seemed. 

He was more than irritated by the head games. Either the students slandered him and his family, or they enjoyed poking and prodding at him constantly with various methods—anonymous notes left in his gym bag or locker, random paws reaching out to grab his notebook to crumple it, others knocking his tablet on the ground, being pushed from behind, or flat out challenging him to a fight. He tried to stay calm about it all or stop it from happening. Still, he was in constant aware mode and it was wearing him down. He had restless dreams. His progress in training in five different ways was slow like grass growing.

Tempted to just stop and actually face these two idiots, he knew it wouldn’t help. He was only losing his patience and they’d be replaced tomorrow. In the beginning, he thought if he kept his head low, stayed focused, and raced in his own lane, his low-key behavior would avoid the absurd idea of anyone messing with him. But it didn’t happen. Now that he was several months into his training he thought avoidance may have made things worse. Not getting involved in the antics of bullies and bitches must have made him appear weak. The one time he reacted at the start of it all, he’d not only hurt that boy by breaking his arm, but he seemed to fuel the fires for more destructive actions. His aggressors were constantly reminding him he deserved a return punishment. Fending off new and relentless assaults, whether verbal or physical, he somehow kept out of their clutches. But now, he was losing weight. And his ability to drop into deep thought was getting more difficult.

He didn’t hear them anymore from behind so he turned to make his way to his class. He couldn’t wait to share some good news about his Tao test score with Me-ume. She was his little cheering buddy and he loved hearing her giggle at his horrible jokes.

“When am I going to grow up? It ain’t Sune. And probably not Tao.”

He snickered at his own sad jokes. But his written test was 185 out of 200. That was worth telling someone about. His Da and sister have been so busy lately. And his mom would have asked to go over the 15 missed questions. Me-ume would simply congratulate him and give him a quick double pump, fist bump paw shake they established after a successful test. And she always smiled. He liked that. With that thought he frowned. He was a little worried. She looked down lately. Her smile was not all there. 

He looked over the hall with kids everywhere, walking toward him and by him and some just standing around talking. The noise level was loud. He was at least three hallways away from where he needed to be. Looking upward he saw a small movement and blinked. It was his little green bird, diving and dipping above the river of canids kids. He watched its intricate weaving and twists in fascination. Although he moved slowly toward it, he never bumped into anyone. He was solid and everyone else was mere smoke. He slid through them. As he arrived beneath the bird the kids of the hallway seemed to melt away and he stood quietly. He watched as it flit over toward a nearby door and he moved to follow. 

Before he got there a small figure darted out of the glow of the opening. It was Me-ume. Her eyes were wide and she was frightened. Looking behind her she opened her mouth but he couldn’t hear what she shouted. Spirito felt his head moving to see what she was looking at, but turning took all his strength, his neck muscles were too stiff, and he was in slow motion, as if every muscle resisted his brain’s commands. He pulled his gaze just far enough to catch four large male youths, much bigger than the small Me-ume, exiting the door and searching for her. They were grinning teeth flashing, one had an off-white yellowish tinge. Spirito held up his hand—to stop them, to grab an arm, anything—but they brushed through him. He was the smoke.

One clutched at her and physically dragged her over to the side of the hallway. He shouted something at her and the other three closed in behind. Me-ume opened her mouth to scream, but he covered her muzzle with his thick paw. She shook and struggled against him, but he jerked and shook her hard. The other three laughed. 

Spirito felt his anger roar inside his head. He took a step toward them but they were not in sight. He was once again in the noisy hallway walking forward. He almost stumbled at the abrupt loud clamor around him. But in the distance, he thought he heard a muffled whimper. His face froze and his eye sought out that direction toward the opposite wall that was just beyond his classroom a mere 50 paces away. He found the four boys huddled against the far wall, one of them laughing his off-white teeth visible. A dusky gray form was blocked from view within the group. His heart lurched what he knew was held there. 

His mind boiled over with fury and he bolted forward toward the group, bashing into two of them with his broad shoulder, he knocked them clear down the hall. Even as his eyes confirmed they were trapping Me-ume, he saw her tears streaking down her fur and his rage stoked even higher. His back foot lifted and kicked with deadly precision at the head of the kid to her right. His target slammed into the wall and bounced off with a hollow thunk only to thunk again as the unconscious body hit the ground. 

Me-ume gave a squeak beneath the fat paw of a boy who was too slow to realize Spirito was not playing nice today. 

The momentum of his kick and bulrush took him ten paces away down the hall. He twisted in mid-flight and landed on all fours. But he never stopped as he loped forward, his mind focused on channeling Chu to his paws. Anyone watching would not have seen much of a change or might have blinked in the time it took for him to infuse his paws, but the bone-crunching noise when he struck was clearly audible. As was the painful cry of the canid boy flying backward down the hall a good twenty meters. 

Spirito swept his gaze around to ensure Me-ume was no longer trapped. His eyes met hers and she trembled looking so shaken. He snarled as he swung back around. He tucked her behind him before he roared at the two boys brave enough to return to fight. 

The one on his left was moving forward his paws making a quick and jerky Tao symbol that Spirito completely disregarded as he threw his own hands down and cupped them upward. There was no way he was going to allow that punk to get near him or Me-ume. He pulled his force from within and with a violent motion, one hand thrust away the other sliding down the length of his arm, his Tao power surged. Tao’s power helped the one wielding it as it all came from within. But he treated his Tao power as a weapon and flung it toward the boy like an extension of his own foot kicking forward, only it struck his target’s entire body. A sudden bowing arch and the boy crumpled backward from the instant pain. 

The other kid simply charged forward to physically fight his target only to be met with Spirito’s strongest tool in his arsenal, his extremely skilled Fac training. He simply stood tall and let the larger kid swing at him. Reaching out he caught and stopped dead the fist near his head. Then he glared at the boy, who stood a foot taller than him, and just tightened his grip. The boy grimaced in pain and after only seconds whimpered as Spirito’s eyes began to glow. Anyone near would have heard the bones breaking without trying. A single crack then another. The boy screamed and Spirito snarled. Not caring for the slowness of his brutal action, he dropped to the ground and swiped his claws across the boy’s stomach. His clothing ripped and four claw marks were sliced into his fur. 

Spirito pushed the kid away and let him fall to the ground. Slamming his back paw down he gave a shout of pure rage and power though he didn’t use his ways. The rage was more than effective in scaring the crap out of anyone else contemplating any sort of attack upon him and his.

He looked around at the kids in the hallway who stood back and stared at him in shock. There wasn’t a student that met his eyes. Unbeknown to him, the silver lighting was still glowing from his use of Fac and it made his gaze resemble something of a Canid gone mad, in many respects. 

He turned back toward Me-ume who simply lunged toward him and wrapped her smaller arms around his body. He lowered his arms to hold her tight and murmured. “I’m so sorry, little one. So sorry.”

“I couldn’t tell you. They threatened to hamstring you in the field. They said they would torture you. Gosh, Spirito. I was so scared.”

He hugged her tight and felt her tremble. “Let’s take you to the office and call your parents. I want to call my Da, too.”

Me-ume looked up at him, her expression surprised.

“What?” He looked down sheepishly. “I may not be afraid of any of these students, but my Mom scares me to death. My Da at least knows how to fight clean.”

Me-ume shook her head and gave a small smile. Then frowned. “Maybe we should call my Da, too?”

They looked at each other and slowly nodded in agreement. 

She moved her paw just enough to give a little double pump and he met her fist with his.

* * *