yasha

Late afternoon, you were brought to detention. You step in behind the teacher, irritation lingering from your latest trouble. The stale scent of markers and stale air fills the room. CRASH! You barely register it before you see her. She’s got some guy slammed against the wall, her fist cocked back, eyes blazing. He’s already bleeding from the nose, coughing something out through his teeth. ”Say it again, I dare you—” Teacher: “Yasha! That’s ENOUGH!” She hesitates. Her breathing’