"Fight, fight!" The students cheered loudly. Everyone watched the two young men use their abilities against each other, despite the risk of expulsion.
One of the students wore a varsity jacket, had a typical short haircut for privileged kids, and a cocky grin. He was using a A-level wind ability to blast at the other student. The other student fighting wore badly worn-out clothes and had long, unkempt hair. He dodged the winds to avoid slicing his skin, but he couldn't fight back properly without his weapons.
"C'mon Little Raven. What, can't fight back without your precious little blades?" The mockery he gave out was as lame as his haircut. Ash hated his taunting, especially being called Little Raven.
Ash Raven was his name, and for now, his curse.
"C'mon Little Raven, gotta get that last-minute wing clipping done before end of day. Try to make it interesting. Or do you prefer to cheat like your deadbeat brother did?"
Hearing that, Ash's eyes turned red. Insulting his older brother was a weakness he couldn't ignore. He charged at the jock, full of anger, even as more wind blades flew his way. He refused to back down until he had the jock's fat neck in his hands. The jock didn't realize that Ash didn't need a knife to fight back. Ash saw a student nearby with multiple pens in his shirt pocket. He raised a hand, and the pens flew into his hand. A wicked smile spread across his face as he threw the pens at the jock.
Usually, everyone would laugh at such childish antics, but they were fools to think that. The pens shot out like bullets, piercing the jock's legs and making him squirm in pain. He fell to the ground, trying to hold himself up by one leg. He barely managed to lift it before Ash stepped in front of him, a pen aimed at his eye.
"How'd you do that?"
"Dumbass! Did you think I just needed an actual knife to use my ability? I have Grade C-level telepathy and a Skill book on knife handling proficiency. Basically, as long as I have an object that can be used like a knife, I can use my Skill." Ash held the pen close to the jock's eyelid.
The thought of stabbing him in his stupid eyes was satisfying after everything he'd endured. But he wouldn't do it. He wasn't going to stoop that low. He threw the pen aside, grabbed his belongings, with everyone near him backing off.
Everyone else blocking his way cleared a path for him. Even though he was classified as a Lvl 5, he was still strong enough and angry enough to fight back without problems. The teachers and security finally arrived after the chaos had settled. As usual, they coddled the jock and blamed Ash for everything.
"Mr. Raven, what have you done now!"
"Me? I did nothing. He started it. Look at him and look at me. Who looks more beat up?"
The teachers looked at both of them. Even with minor puncture wounds from the pens, the jock's injuries were slight. Ash had cuts, bruises, and his clothes were worse than before. It was clear who the real victim was.
"He's lying, sir. He got mad because we touched his bike and he went off on us for it. He's just crazy."
Ash snapped, angry at that. It wasn't his bike that the jock damaged, but his brother's.
"Screw you, meathead! You didn't just touch it your trashy girlfriend spilled a latte on it, and your friends kicked it for laughs. How do you have the nerve to say I started this when you did that?"
The security team examined the bike. The evidence was clear: it was defiled with a cheap latte drink, and the tires and frame showed scuffs from being hit by their shoes. The lead teacher hesitated to admit it, but Ash was right. Yet, the jock came from a wealthy family, and Ash was an orphan with a bad reputation. Who would support him?
"Mr. Raven, even so, you shouldn't have resorted to violence. It's barely the first week of your senior year and you're fighting. You can't tarnish the school's reputation like this." Ash clenched his teeth, tired of being scolded for nothing. The jock smirked as he got away with everything once again.
Ash had had enough. He hadn't done anything wrong but was always the target.
He grabbed his ruined backpack and headed for the bike. The teachers tried to stop him, but the look in his eyes made them reconsider.
The students near his bike stepped back; he was close, and in his saddlebags were the knives the jock had mocked him about.
Ash was fortunate to have three gifts: one to consume ability stones like the telepathy stone he used earlier, another to learn skills from Skill books like his knife proficiency and a third linked to divinity arts, blessed martial skills. Unfortunately, he had no access to a divinity scroll or weapon, so that ability was unavailable now.
Still, even with those, he was bullied like it was a graduation requirement, all because of rumors about his brother's last tour of duty, which claimed his life and ruined his credibility.
Ash tried to wipe the coffee stains from the seat. His irritation boiled over; he grabbed a simple throwing knife and punctured the tire of the jock's expensive BMW.
"What the f**k? My car!"
"Mr. Raven! What are you doing?" the lead teacher yelled.
Ash flipped him off.
"Bite me! That was payment for my bike, Bastich!" He started the bike, did a 180 spin, and sped off in the opposite direction. He threw a few more knives at the car until it looked like a pincushion. Since he didn't use them on students or on school property (as it was in the parking lot across the street), he broke no rules under the Revhound mandate, which allowed abilities to be used freely in self-defense of within good reason.
Ash left with a satisfied smile, feeling he'd had enough nonsense for one day.