Menna Asghar

Most people were going to be in class right now, which meant tracking down these students would be easier but at the same time difficult. The roster sheet you were handed provided the classes the ten students were attending, but that would also require you to waltz into a class full of people just to bother the new student. So, you made the decision to head over to the gym; nobody really tried in that class, it was rather big, and the teachers were rather chill. Checking the sheet, you saw that there was at least one student currently in gym, Menna Asghar. You speed walked through the empty halls, making your way to the gym, which was a rather far distance away from the library.

After three minutes or so, you made it to the hall that houses the gymnasium, where you could hear the shouts of people and the squeaks of their shoes. It wouldn't be long until you reached the front doors of the gym room. As you made your way down the hall, you noticed a rather peculiar sight in what was supposed to be an empty hallway; someone walking down toward you. As the person got closer, you began to recognize who it was. It was Chris, who was still in her gym clothes. "Oh, hey Chris-" You began to greet her but stopped short upon noticing the state of her appearance. Her face was bright red and checkered with lines. The lines remind you of the texture of a dodge ball. There were two tissues shoved into the nose; you could make out red stains near the area that just barely stuck out of the nostril. Her expression was deadpan to the point where her eyes looked lifeless, as if she were barely conscious. It would appear that she had been pelted in the face by a dodge ball. "Uh, hey, are you good?" You asked, to which the the Tomboy ignored you and walked right past you, his facial expression unchanging. Guess she was heading off to the nurse. Chris was a pro softball player, though that wasn't her only specialty; gym was very much the class she succeeded in the most. So, the idea for her to get badly injured in a game of dodgeball never crossed your mind; in fact, the mere concept seemed like an impossibility after all the years you've known her.

You continued to walk forward as you pondered this new possibility. There were few people that could best Chris in a sport, and fewer than none that would even be able to send her to nurse like that in a game. You made your way up to the front door of the gym before getting startled upon hearing the loud scream followed by the pang of a dodgeball smacking against something, most likely a person. "Han!!!! I said, go easy on the other students!!!!!" You heard Ms. Cassidy, one of the four gym teachers on staff, shout.

...Han?! No way, no way could it be that bastard in there right now. You poked your head through the doorway and were greeted by the sight of a male student laying down on the ground, groaning in pain. Looking further in, you could see two teams on the opposite sides of the court, one team consisting of twelve students, excluding the one laying injured on the ground at the far end of their side. On the other side that only had three members, there were Lucy and Paige standing toward the back. And yup, standing there in front of them was him. Muscular, white hair, purple eyes, and that damn smile. The only thing different about Han was his lack of jewellery and the fact that he wasn't sucking on a lollipop, though he was chewing on something. "我的錯!" He responded, smiling smugly before blowing a pink bubble out of his mouth. He had gum in his mouth, this man can't keep himself away from sweets, can he?

You looked down at the roster sheet in your hands. You hadn't bothered looking at the classes that Han was in due to him already having a purple slip; I guess he shared gym with Menna. Speaking of whom, you began to scan the gym for her; you didn't spot the Egyptian girl among the players, so you turned your attention toward the bleachers. Among the crowd of people sitting out, the only noticeable people you could see were Mónica and Nicole, the former looking lost and the latter looking uninterested in the game. Besides those two, no one really stood out; there weren't any new faces.

"Great, just great." You muttered in annoyance. If she wasn't here, then coming over to the gym was a waste of time, and it wasn't like you had any interest in meeting with Han again. Though oddly enough, you found yourself invested in how the game would play out. Maybe it was because the team that Han was on was outnumbered; after he threw you like a piece of paper, you were interested in seeing him take an L.

The men and women on the opposite side of court looked rather unnerved as they stared the white-haired man down despite their apparent advantage of having all the balls on their side of court and the team consisting entirely of athletic students. With a ball in each of the players hands, the team of athletic students threw their dodgeballs with all their might, all aiming for a single target, Han Chengxuan. Yet no matter how much **** they put into the throw or how accurate they were, none of them hit him. Han moved past the onslaught of rubber balls, dodging each one with a subtle movement. Weirdly enough, rather than his body moving to dodge the ball, he seemed to be moving in tandem with the person's throw, as if he knew at what angle each of the players were going to throw their balls the second they picked up the dodgeball. Now, with nearly every player emptyhanded, Han stood proudly in the center of his side of the court. "Goddamn it! He hasn't been hit once throughout this entire class." One of the players complained. All the balls were on Han's team's side of the court, with the exception of one that was being held behind the back of one of the players. You recognized who the student was, Tad Jupiter, the star player on the baseball team.

"Wow, Han. You're so amazing." Lucy complimented. The two popular girls had gone untouched as well, given that the main focus had been on Han and Han alone. Though it was rather surprising that they hadn't been hit by a stray ball.

"Thanks." Han replied, not bothering to face Lucy but instead opting to look forward to his opposition. Both Lucy and Paige began to inch closer to the Chinese student.

"Yeah, you're so cool. Can we feel your muscles?" Paige asked, a playfully lustful look on her face as she eyed the muscle on Han's back and arms, her friend Lucy doing the same.

Han whipped his body around to face the two, causing them to stop inching toward him. Tad smirked at the sight, moving the ball he was hiding behind his back in front of him. In response to Paige's question, Han began to boisterously laugh before abruptly stopping, "No." he firmly asserted, blowing another bubble with the gum in his mouth.

Tad brought the arm that was holding the dodge ball behind his head before taking a step forward and bringing his arm forward, releasing the ball from his grasp and letting it fly forward at a curved angle toward the back of Han's head. The ball raced forward at an incredibly fast speed; it was no baseball, but Tad was nonetheless still able to throw it with a level of skill and precision unfound in the average person; you'd even go as far to say it was superior to most pro athletes. Yet, when it came time for Han to be struck in the back of the head, the event did not come to fruition.

Within a fleeting moment, you watched as Han's body became nothing more than a blur. He had spun around right as the dodgeball was inches away from kissing the back of his hair, grabbing the ball at the same time and grasping onto it with enough **** to cause some of the air to come out. Han then performed a second rotation, torquing his body as he followed the momentum that both he and the ball had generated, before throwing the ball upon completion of the spin. As the ball soared through the air, you could've sworn you heard the sound barrier break based on the loud boom that encompassed the room, though perhaps that was instead the sound created by the dodgeball popping upon making contact with Tad's body. The **** of the impact quite literally sent him flying, lifting him off the ground and tearing a hole through the front of his shirt...along with sending him out of his shirt as well as his pants, socks, shoes, and boxers. The entire situation reminded you of something you'd see in a cartoon, like one of those old Charlie Brown comic strips.

The naked baseball star hit the ground with a large thud; most of his teammates had been frozen in astonishment through the whole ordeal. Hell, you couldn't blame them since you were in the same boat. You found your mouth agape as you stared into the room, your eyes focused on Tad before trailing toward Han, who popped the bubble he had blown earlier with his teeth, allowing him to show off a proud, wide, toothy grin. "Woah, hot naked dude!" You heard Mónica shout from across the room, being the first person to snap out of the trance-like state that everyone had found themselves in, most likely because the Ditz forgot about the events that had just transpired, allowing her to focus her short attention span on a subject in which she was far more interested. More and more people began to snap out of the state of shock and turned their attention toward the naked, **** man lying on the court. You heard a few girls begin to snicker as they stood over Tad's body, several pulling out their phones to save the moment within a photograph; a few people rushed off from the bleachers to get in close. Ms. Cassidy made an attempt to calm everyone down and dispel the crowd, but her efforts were brushed off by the crowd.

Well, you were glad that wasn't you, though you still felt bad for the athlete. Lucy and Pagie turned their heads away from the scene happening at the other end of the court and turned their attention toward Han. The two then gave one another a look before smiling deviously. "You're so cool!" Both girls shouted before moving in to embrace him; the two were attempting a pincer attack in order to feel up his body. Despite Han seemingly not paying attention to the duo, he still managed to avoid them, hoping back right when Paige and Lucy were about to wrap their arms around him, resulting in the two butting their foreheads together.

The popular girls groaned in pain while rubbing their foreheads. Han's face twisted into a confused frown. "Hadn't I said 'no'?" The Hong Konger pondered to himself before smiling once more, pressing his index finger against his right temple, and tilting his head. "Fine then, I shall say it louder next time!" Han declared while twisting his index finger lightly against his temple. You frowned at the sight bitterly. Ah, so he dodges them but is willing to throw you. You see how it is.

Wait, you still need to find Menna; she should still be in here; the roster said she had gym, so it's not like she can be anywhere else, and if she was, well then you wasted a shitton of time. You scoured past the crowd of girls and boys that had surrounded Tad; there was no one that you didn't recognize. You turned your attention to the bleachers once more; there were more people sitting on the bleachers than there were currently on the court, so you took your time to analyze each of the faces. And yet, no one stood out to you by the time you finished. Just great. You'd have to check this room at least three more times just to be sure you didn't somehow miss her.

"Sam?" You heard someone call out to you, a voice you easily recognized, it belonged to Ms. Cassidy. The gym teacher pushed her way past the crowd and made her way toward you, guess she finally noticed you poking your head into the room like a creep. "Is there something you need?" She asked.

"Uh, yeah," You stepped fully into the gymnasium, "I'm here for the new students; I need to give them something for... an afterschool program, I think." You explained to the best of your ability, your face scrunching up in contemplation slightly due to you yourself not being too sure about the purpose of these purple slips.

Ms. Cassidy nodded "You want me to call Han over?"

You frantically waved your hand side-to-side. "No, not him; he's already been dealt with." You glanced over at the white-haired student, he was currently-... he was currently in a martial arts stance. It didn't look like he was being challenged by anyone, nor was he trying to start a fight; he was just standing there holding that stance for some reason. Actually, now that you think of it, you believe you've seen something like this before; Shaolin monks sometimes spent minutes, if not hours, holding the same stance. It helped with balance, if you remember correctly; did that make Han a martial artist? ... That's a stupid question; obviously he was one. He could throw you like nothing and was muscular as all hell; his physique reminded you of what the stars in old martial arts movies had. Sexy as fuck- let's not get sidetracked. "I'm here for Menna, but I don't see her anywhere."

"She's should be at the library right now." Ms. Cassidy responded.

You blinked twice in confusion. "Come again?"

"She doesn't participate in gym since she has a medical exemption." Ms. Cassidy clarified.

"I see." You muttered before sulking off out of the room and toward the library once more. You had just come from there, and now you had to head back.

Walking down the hallway that led to the gym was tedious this time around; going to the library wasn't too bothersome; it was a relaxing room to be in, especially when you had no assignments to do; but you still felt bummed out that you weren't rewarded slightly for your little trip. Well, you did get to see a pretty fun game of dodgeball. You're happy that Han wasn't in your gym class, at least; you wouldn't want to even attempt to play against him. That guy was crazy athletic, being both skilled and ripped at the same time; in fact, the other new students you've met so far have been pretty similar. Kallaicone had quite a bit of musculature to him, and while Miyamoto was small, they hardly looked frail. That jacket of theirs did a good job at hiding their bodies, so it was hard to tell, though they did scare the shit out of you for some reason. A shiver traveled down your spine as you thought of the Japanese student. It was almost instinctive to be afraid of them. Were they all athletes? Maybe that's why ten new students from different countries showed up to some U.S. High school; maybe there was some type of sporting event... No, that couldn't be the case; Miyamoto said they were a painter and Menna apparently can't play sports.

You let out a large sigh. It would be best if you just mind your own business; don't even bother trying to wrap your head around something that doesn't affect you. Maybe you can pay Chris a visit in the nurse's office if she's still there; seeing her was always enjoyable and enough to warm up your heart. The nurse's office was in the same hallway as both the gymnasium and theater, since those were the two places most likely to get injured in the school- You froze in place mid-walk. You had just passed the twin doors of the theater room when you noticed something off about the entrance to the room. No, not with the main entrance, but with the third door, the one that you are currently standing in front of. The third door was a direct entrance to the hall that led backstage and to the catwalk above the stage. What was odd about it today was that it was partially open; this was basically never the case due to safety concerns; only faculty members had access to the stage-room door during school hours, and if they did use it, they most definitely made sure to close the door behind them to make sure students wouldn't wonder back there to mess with props or hurt themselves with the lighting.

You scratched your chin at the sight; you were too preoccupied to notice it when you first walked down this hall. You hadn't noticed it, but now that you have, you have come to the conclusion that it was none of your business... So, anyway, you got up close to investigate. Upon reaching the door, which opened up further, you noticed something wrong with the mortise plate. The deadlock and latch were fucked up beyond repair, looking as if someone had taken a blowtorch to them and deformed them. With them melted out of shape, the door would be unable to close properly. What was odd was that the door knob was unaffected, which implies that whoever did this attacked the plate itself, which requires the door to be opened in order for that part to be exposed. Did someone do this after school in the prior days? That couldn't be the case; there would've probably been an announcement about vandalism, and Crystal would've no doubt been sniffing around for a culprit, so in that case, this must be something recent.

You entered the hallway and immediately turned your attention toward the stairs to the catwalk. You weren't even going to bother with going backstage since there was a class going on currently. While Ms. Villagomez was a music teacher, she also taught drama; that class, of course, took place in the theater room, and you could hear the students fooling around in it at this very moment.

You crept up the stairs quietly. Not wanting to draw attention to yourself. None of the new students had drama at this very moment, and Ms. Villagomez heavily disliked interruptions; it would be for the best that she didn't know you were here. You went so far as to remove your shoes so that your steps made less noise as your foot made contact with the metal stairway.

Eventually, you made it to the top, and it didn't take very long for you to encounter the culprit. Standing in the center of the catwalk, looking down at the stage below, was a woman. Her skin was dark, and her black hair was short with bangs heavily focused in the front. She had a cleft chin, and her eyes were amber in colour. She wore a plain black gallebaya that had black and gold melaya luf wrapped around it. Over both of them was an opened djubbeh, which was black in colour like the rest of her clothing. Resting over her shoulders was a white, undone scarf, which reached down to her calves on both sides. The scarf was patterned with black amenta. From below her gallebaya, you could see a white shintijan covering her would be exposed ankles. She wore a pair of black flats on her feet. It seemed like she really liked the colour black since her nails and lips were painted with the colour. She even had black eyeliner on. She had the text" مصيبة" tattooed underneath the corner of her right eye, along with these beautiful black, floral henna tattoos covering both her hands. On both of her ring fingers were silver rings that had the god Apep embroidered into them.

She leaned against the railings of the catwalk, a small leather notebook in one hand and a charcoal pencil in the other. The girl was sketching the faces of the people below and the smiles they had as they goofed around with their performances. Also leaning on the rails was a walking cane. The cane's shaft was made of doum palm wood, which was painted black and polished, giving it a bit of a gleam. The handle was shaped like that of a jackal's head. Both the handle and the ferrule heel were silver in colour.

The woman suddenly stopped sketching, placing the pencil into the notebook and snapping it shut. Her free hand fell onto her cane as she turned around to face you. Just her staring at you now was enough to make you feel like you had butterflies in your stomach. Her beauty was stunning. "H-Hi, my name's Sam." You whispered, not wanting to gain the attention of the people below. "I'm guessing you're Menna, right? I thought you were supposed to be in the library right now."

She stared at you for a bit, her facial expression unchanging; she looked very tired. "You know a lot about me; I do hope you aren't a stalker of some kind." Her voice was soft with a heavy Egyptian accent to it; from what you could tell, she wasn't very serious with what she had said, which must be her way of joking. She pocketed the note book, allowing her to place her other hand on top of the other.

You quietly chuckled, doing so just loud enough so that she could hear while you rubbed the back of your neck and avoided eye contact. "I've actually been searching for you...and your friends—the other students, I mean." You explained, pulling out a purple slip from your pocket.

The Egyptian woman began to approach you, "Oh, then, my apologies for giving you trouble." Menna unnecessarily apologized. It wasn't really her fault; it's not like she knew you'd be searching for her.

"You need to apo-" You attempted to reassure her.

"Do you want for me to leave?" Menna interrupted.

You gave her a confused look before realizing that both of you weren't supposed to be here. She must've mistaken you for someone with authority. "Ah, no. I'm no one special; I can't **** you to leave against your own will." You clarified. Menna simply hummed in response. The two of you stood in silence for a bit before Menna reached forward and grabbed the slip out of your hand. "So, did you do that to the door back there?" You asked, not being too big a fan of the background noise that was the performances below.

"Oh that?" Menna's hands awkwardly shifted on her cane as she responded to your question, "...I found it like that." That was clearly a lie, but you didn't have any way of proving it; it's not like she had a welding torch on her or anything.

You leaned your right arm against the railing, "I see, you were just taking a stroll down the hall and noticed that the door was open. Your curiosity got the better of you, I presume?" You interrogated further.

"I assume it was the same for you." Menna retorted, causing you to hunch over in embarrassment. She had you there. "I like viewing the smiles on people's faces; this seemed like a good place to do that, so I took advantage of the opportunity." The Egyptian woman turned away from you and turned her attention to the stage below. There was a faint smile on her face as she watched the fun the students were having. Though that smile would turn into a grimace upon seeing one of the performers standing near the edge trip off the stage.

You pursed your lips, "Well, I guess there's nothing wrong with you being up here since you don't really have a class to attend." You attempted to continue the conversation, "You injure your knee recently?" You jabbed your index finger at her cane.

Menna glanced down. "Would you like to see?" She asked. You opened your mouth to say something, not wanting to be rude; it's not that you weren't curious, but you didn't want to come off as excited to see it, even if she was willing to show you. You wouldn't get the chance to make more than an indecipherable noise before having her cane thrust at you. "You mind holding this?"

Without giving much thought to it, you took hold of the cane and immediately noticed that it was heavy. You let out a forceful breath in surprise. It wasn't as if the cane was overwhelmingly heavy; it couldn't have weighed more than five kilograms; it was more that the cane weighing that much took you off guard. It took you so off guard that your hands strained themselves for a second, which was enough to get your arms to shake ever so slightly. Or no, the longer you held onto the cane, the more you noticed something was off about it; the thing that was shaking wasn't your arms, it was the cane itself. The entire thing was vibrating at a very low frequency, one that wasn't noticeable to the eye but to the touch. What the hell was going on with this thing?

You eventually turned your attention away from the cane and toward Menna, who was now crouching on the catwalk, having removed the flat from her left foot. She was wearing black stockings underneath her shintijan, which you could see more of due to her gallebaya being lifted up. You could make out the shape of her left foot, and something was off about it; it looked like it wasn't filling out her stocking entirely. Menna then began to roll up her shintijan, going up to her thigh and reaching up to where her stocking started. The Egyptian woman then pulled her stocking down, revealing more of her beautiful slender leg, eventually getting far enough down to pull the garment off, revealing her foot.

Your eyes widened upon seeing her fully exposed left foot; it was deformed. She lacked a big toe and an index toe; there was just this off-shaped lump of skin where they would've formed. Her middle toe lacked its distal phalanx and was partially fused into her fourth toe. "It's been like that since birth." Menna looked up at you with a ****, tired smile on her face, "Just one of a series of misfortunes; nothing to worry about." Menna reassured.

Was it really? Menna began to redress her foot while you just awkwardly stood there. You didn't want to leave on a topic like that, but you couldn't think of any conversation topics, leaving you a stuttering mess. Luckily for you, Menna was interested in continuing this chat. "You've met with some of the others, I presume. I hope some of them haven't given you too much trouble." Menna pulled her stocking up to her thigh while she made small talk.

You didn't want to be rude, assuming that the others were in fact her friends, though you did have comments to make on the three that you had met previously. Kallaicone is fine; he seems like a chill dude, and your complaints wouldn't be anywhere close to being directed at him. Miyamoto is beyond fucking creepy; be it the eyes or their smile, something about them was off-putting, but you weren't going to say that out loud. And then came Han. "I've met this one guy; he's a bit troublesome... A bit too eccentric, kind of does whatever the hell he wants." You began to relate, wanting to give a vague description of the martial artist without calling him out entirely, despite your grievances with him.

Menna's face lit up with a genuine smile. "Is that Chengxuan that you're referring to?" Menna asked, standing up, having fully redressed her left leg.

Who the hell was Chengxuan? Oh, wait, that was Han. "You mean Han? Any reason you're calling him by his last name?" You questioned while handing her walking cane back to her, subtle vibrations ceasing to reverberate through your hands upon letting go of the cane.

"I'm not, but you are." Menna answered, her smile turning into a smirk. That's right, in Chinese culture, people are almost never referred to by just their given names; typically, they're called by their full name and, on occasion, just their family name. Being called by your given name was rare and quite informal. Menna, whose hands returned to rest on top of her cane, twisted them so that you could view her henna tattoos better. "He's a very special man, don't you think? Really knows how to brighten things up; always finds a way to smile and just be himself, refusing to let things keep him down." Menna's smile grew warmer the more she talked.

A scowl formed on your face. "Yeah, he sure is something." You grumbled while rubbing your still-aching back.

Taking note of the displeased look on your face, Menna's smile softened. "He threw you, didn't he?" The Egyptian students asked, to which you responded with hum of affirmation. "Shouldn't have touched him, he really isn't fan of that."

"Likes sweets and doesn't like being touched, got it." You quipped

Menna let out a soft chuckle before walking up to you and taking a hold of your hand. Her hand was soft and there was a delicacy to how she held onto yours, as if she were worried she was going to break it. "You should give him a chance. He likes people and I'm sure you'd get along with him, Sam." Menna encouraged.

A blush quickly overtook your face. You quickly pulled your hand away to stop any more heat from spreading across your cheeks. "I'm going to go now; find the other." You whisper yelled and moved quietly yet quickly toward the stairs. Before you made your descent, you looked back at the Egyptian girl, who was watching you leave with a waiting expression on her face. You groaned softly before mouthing 'I'll consider it' to her. You weren't a fan of making promises you couldn't keep, but you figured having an actual conversation with Han couldn't be too hard.

You made your way down the stairs, reaching the ground floor. Upon getting down, you immediately noticed your shoes were missing. You knew damn well that you had left your shoes right at the base of the first step; where could they vanish to? You searched around the area near the stairwell and even looked down the hall. Your efforts to find your footwear were met with nothing. You did notice one thing, the once-open door was now closed. Someone had been here...And stole your fucking shoes! What an absolute dick-shitter!