Damn him! Tyne, for all his feelings of superiority, is actually so weak-minded! Instead of being rational to the end, he explodes. But if he wants to go down, can't he just go to hell alone, and quietly?
I claw at his hands that are trying to crush my airway, but my nails are trimmed, neither long enough, nor hard enough to make him feel pain. His hands tightened, and his screams in his mind deafen me.
'DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE YOU BITCH! DIE AND LET EVERYTHING BE OVER!!'
His eyes, his fierce, twisted face, his bulging veins. At this moment, he truly looks like the monster he is inside. He is like a demon unleashed from hell. A little deep inside, I feel vindicated that his mask has fallen off, even if an irrational monster is more dangerous because of its madness.
Since I can't make him let go by scratching his wrist, I extend my hand, but then fear floods my being, and encroaches on my mind. I have been keeping it at bay in my heart, but my hands stopping just a few inches from Tyne's bulging eyes become a stone that shattered the calm I tried to forcibly keep.
"Humph! Humph! Humph!"
I exert myself to extend my reach as I begin lacking oxygen. My eyes feel like they are about to explode from the pressure. I don't doubt that they have turned red already. I slam onto his arms. I don't even feel the void below a quarter of my body because I need to be alive before I can worry about the possibility of falling down to my death.
I slap him repeatedly, but this is not a simple fighting match. He doesn't take a surrender at all. But that comparison is what makes my mind flash amidst the haze of encroaching death. I hold his arm and his wrist, and I follow him in the madness of a life to end it all.
I don't even need to focus, not like I am able to right now, but I'm assaulted by the sheer feeling of pleasure that emanated from his mind. However, he doesn't manage to enjoy himself for long. I wipe the ugly smirk off his mug in the next instant.
*Bang– Crack!!!*
I don't know if heard the sound of his testicles breaking in reality or through his mind. I just know that his face suddenly looks like a pig's liver after losing all colors for a moment, then twisting like to resemble the face of a monkey raped by a gorilla, both being males.
His hands go slack, and I hold onto him to pull myself away from the edge of the rooftop with his weight when he recoils. When I steady myself, I breathe like a survivor tasting life again. My oxygen-deprived system springs back to life with all the power of the instinct all living beings have, the instinct to survive.
"Cough! Cough! Cough! Cough!"
I massage my throat, for a moment forgetting about the situation. But the situation doesn't forget about me, nor does the only person on the rooftop.
"Argh!!!"
My mind flares like it is about to catch fire and explode, and I launch myself in an abrupt sideways roll, uncaring of the dirt on the ground.
I whip my head back to see the foot that had almost slammed into my face and would have made my head slam onto the parapet behind where I have been.
My heart skips a beat, and I stand up. But a sudden weakness assaults me, and I wobble on my feet. My eyes widen and I let myself fall faster to evade the fist I read about before it could fly over and knock me unconscious.
*Whoosh*
I feel the air displaced above my head, and my heart beats wildly. My skirt flies with the wind, but my body is all focused on survival. Even my mind, which is tired, becomes energized with the shot of adrenaline and lets me catch all the flares from the mind full of anger and pain across from me.
I sift through the emotion driving Tyne, and I catch the only thing that can make me survive until the damn door of the rooftop finally gives way.
I swerve through his blows. They are wild, telegraphed, but fast and powerful. But seeing them coming turns me into a trained but inexperienced fighter.
As I move and dance with Tyne, his rage grows, but something else grows inside me. Amidst the echoes of my old life, one surfaces, coming up faster and faster as my focus becomes razor sharp. I dodge another haymaker, and step back.
Tyne pursues, like always, and this time, I stop being passive. The taekwondo training I have enjoyed in that old life comes to me and I greet him with a straight kick that has all my weight.
It doesn't matter that I weigh less as a woman, a girl still in the midst of growing up. He didn't see it coming, and his solar plexus helped him experience the sharpness of my slim shape.
This time, he can't say that my body needs to be compensated with something else, like my brain, to be attractive. I bet he felt just how attractive my straight foot is. Not even the bottom of the sneaker managed to dampen much of the blow.
"Urgh!!!"
He freezes, his diaphragm contracting into a position that suffocates him and makes him unable to keep pushing his body for high-level performance. His face returns to how it had looked just a moment ago, and he seems ready to throw up. But I'm not done. No, far from.
From the panic, anger arises, for what he could have done, for what he did, for… just existing!
A textbook sidekick flies straight into his liver. I don't care if I make it explode. I will actually feel happy if that happens.
He doesn't freeze. No, the pain is there, but his body's instinctive reactions make him shift, and I don't waste the absolutely attractive position he has let his head take. I spin around, and slam my foot with all the centrifugal force I have wiped up not in the side of his face, but in the side of his neck.
*Boom!*
The door finally gives way, and teachers arrive, with sole students behind them. I don't care about their take on the spectacle. They are just doctors who have let the horse die before arriving to save it. I don't even have it in me to complain.
"Huff! Huff! Huff!"
Instead, what I care about, as I bend down and support the weight of my upper body with hands on my knees, and breathe like a sports car running on fumes, is the sudden desire to take a leak that I finally register amidst the crowd of sensations.