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As soon as the class was officially finished Ruka had left. His sword had clattered to the ground when the gong had sounded; not out of surprise as might have been assumed, but out of sheer exhaustion. When the upperclassman fought he fought to win and none of the opponents he had faced should have been able to defeat him. It wasn't that he refused to lose (he would yield if he knew he was out of his depth), but that he refused to lose to someone who he /knew/ he could beat. But he was tired...so tired...
He walked down the hallway, keeping that carefully trained expression which pleased so many people on his handsome face, while inside all he wanted to do was collapse against the wall. All he needed to do was to reach the medical centre. Then he could rest, could surrender himself to the administrations of the nurses there. He shouldn't have gone to class at all today; they had told him that, but he'd insisted. It was a matter of principle. Now he was suffering the consequences.
Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and with a groan he doubled over for a moment, his left forearm across his bruised ribs as his hand grabbed his side and reached out for the wall with his right hand for support. His hair fell forward, concealing a pained look and his ragged breathing. Slowly, one step at a time, he continued onward. He would have used his sword as a support, but he wouldn't mistreat such a weapon like that.
He thought he heard something behind him, the way he had come, and stood up, barely keeping himself from making some expression of the pain he felt. He clenched one fist as hard as he could, feeling the hard metal of the signet ring and focused just on that. While other students were thinking of homework and socialising all Ruka was thinking about was getting to the medics...well, and maybe one other thing. |