White Wolf's Wing, part 2

Two: Changes:


School went on as usual, just like the last couple years. Kiba had to endure the boredom of most classes, while a couple were rather interesting. His schedule was formatted into what were called Red and Orange days. Red corresponded to odd-number periods (1, 3, 5 and 7), with lunch break in the 5th. Orange meant even-number periods (2, 4, 6 (with a lunch break) and 8) and was a bit tricky, for instead of a 4th period, a system called Pride Time replaced it. Pride Time meant time in the cafeteria or library, and was designed for students falling behind into the F range. Kiba never had to worry about that, since he was practically a genius in several courses. For his Red days, Kiba had, in order, Latin 2, Creative Writing (he loved to write), lunch and US History, and Pre-Calculus. Orange days meant Honors Physics, AP English 11 with lunch breaking it in half, and finally Advanced Orchestra (he was a viola player and the most advanced in the school). And despite his injury, he made it back into the martial arts team, and also found Carly and Joey had made it in.
During the first week, Kiba had to avoid the crowds who had heard about his accident. It wasn't easy, and it got extremely annoying to the point he nearly lashed out at them, but it was a good thing he could control his temper easily.
Or so he thought.
Day Nine of school started out normal, for a Red day, that is. But normality went out the window as Latin 2 started. As the teacher, an elderly woman named Sheryl Carde, gave out a quick lecture on the past tense of Latin, Kiba could easily hear the class chatterboxes, Hank LeVere and Richard West, going at it again. Kiba did his best to ignore the two sophomores, but it seemed like his temper was getting shorter by the second as they continued chatting.
"Hank, Richard," Mrs. Carde finally spoke. "I know this isn't the most riveting lecture, but you'll have time to chat later. Bear with us, okay?"
"Sorry, ma'am," the two replied simultaneously. And for a while they did stay quiet, but while Mrs. Carde went to help a group of sophomores with understanding the assignment she had just handed out, Kiba could hear those two idiots go at it again. But he had heard these guys talk before, so why was this angering him so much? He didn't realize his grip on the pencil had tightened considerably. Finally, he heard them talking about inappropriate material: sex-related stuff, yaoi subjects. Then came the one risqué phrase he never wanted to hear in his life: "a good humping."
SNAP!
For a second, Kiba wasn't sure what had created such a loud sound. But then he realized everyone was staring at him, and he felt a jabbing in his palm. He looked at his hand to see his pencil had literally broken in two. Even the teacher had heard it, as she came over to see what had happened.
"Kiba, are you okay?" Mrs. Carde asked.
"I..." he started to reply, but had to repeat. "I just need to get a drink."
"Go ahead."
Within seconds, he was out in the hallway, heading for the water fountain. As he took a long drink from it, he realized he felt incredibly hot. He unzipped his sweater to air himself out, but that didn't work for long. As he walked back toward the classroom, he made a side trip to the restroom nearby.
No one was here, which was good, as he didn't feel like dealing with anyone right now. He went to the cleanest sink and washed his face off. Much to his surprise, he actually enjoyed the icy water covering his skin, and some of the water dripped down into his wound area. He removed the sweater's right side by pushing it back, along with the Hawaiian shirt he wore, to see his injury better. Even though it still hurt a lot, it didn't seem as large.
Then he noticed something else. His muscle tone had changed a bit, and now had more prominence than before. But he couldn't remember doing bodybuilding in the past, and his martial arts training, while it did build up muscles, did not create results like this. What the hell was going on?


Creative Writing was very peaceful, as a Janice Kim headed the class. Not much except introductions and interests. Of course, a lot of people didn't have interest in the class itself, so it was no wonder only fifteen people had signed up for it, Kiba included.
Then came lunchtime. The cafeteria was huge of course, for a school of nearly three thousand students and staff. Kiba just sat in the nearest booth he could find, and started to go through his lunch. Two large steak burritos, a small salad, and an Asian pear, with a V8 Fusion Pomegranate Blueberry to finish it off. As he went through this, Joey and Carly came in to sit with him. Good thing they came, because he wasn't sure he could take being stared at anymore by all those people who knew of the incident.
"Kiba, are you okay?" Carly asked as he lay back once the V8 was gone.
"I would be if it wasn't so damn hot in here," Kiba replied, his voice coming out like ice. Did he actually speak like that?
"What are you talking about, man?" Joey said. "It's a freezer in here."
"Then why do I feel so hot?" He leaned back even further, barely noticing the sweat on his forehead. He felt Carly touch his forehead carefully, and he started relaxing at her touch.
"Well, no wonder you feel so hot," Carly spoke. "You're burning up."
"What?" Kiba whispered. "Do you still have that mini-thermometer with you?" he asked. She reached into her bag and pulled it out, keeping it secret from the others except Joey. This was a rather new type which could read temperatures from the outside by clamping onto the index finger. As he put the thing on, the reading came out... as 100.7 degrees Fahrenheit.
"Kiba, you're running a fever," Carly whispered.
"Excuse me, I need to go cool off," he told her. She let him out, and he made his way to the restroom nearby. Like before, it was empty. As he leaned against the nearest sink, he realized something he hadn't earlier. He could still smell Carly's apple juice, even though it was over fifty feet away and through two thick walls. How could his sense of smell be that strong? And on top of that, sounds were grating in his ears. From someplace in the school he could hear some student walking in a giddy manner, and listening to her iPod, probably the latest Lady Gaga song or something. The song, "Born This Way," was one thing, but how could he hear it from such a distance? Had his hearing always been this sensitive?
"Kiba?" came Joey's voice. Kiba turned to see his best friend entering the restroom.
"Hey," Kiba replied.
"You okay? You seem upset about something."
"I'm fine," Kiba answered, slightly annoyed at Joey's persistent attitude.
"Kiba, you don't seem okay," Joey continued, placing a hand in his friend's shoulder.
"Don't touch me!!" Kiba snapped, physically forcing Joey back into a wall. Kiba then realized what he had just done.
"Kiba?" Joey asked, sounding like he was scared. "Did you... just... growl?"
Kiba couldn't help but look at his friend in confusion. Did he growl? Judging by the look on Joey's face, his friend seemed to think so.
"What do you mean by 'growl', Joey?" he finally asked.
"For a second, there, you almost sounded like an animal."
"Joey, that's impossible."
"I know, but that's what I heard."
Kiba didn't know how to reply to that. Joey's accusation seemed a bit far-fetched, but at the same time he couldn't help but feel Joey may have a point.
"If I did growl, I'm sorry," he finally said. "I don't know what's going on with me."
"Might just be PTSD," Joey suggested. "I mean, you went through something very traumatic, and a lot of people can't imagine that kind of experience."
"I know, and the worst part is I can't remember everything that happened."
"Don't let that bother you. Come on, let's head back." Joey started to leave the restroom, with Kiba right behind him. Just as he was about to step out, he heard something behind him. A snarling noise, like some kind of monster. He whirled around instantly, only to see... nothing but the restroom.
"What the hell?" he whispered to himself.


For the next few days, everything seemed normal, but Kiba had never felt so on edge in his life. His fever, luckily, was not contagious, but it wouldn't go away. The fever itself wasn't the problem; there were actually two. One, any medicine he took to try and lower it failed miserably, and two, his body temperature continued to rise. To add to the mystery, he didn't feel sick, just hot and very tense. It took all his self-control to stay calm in classrooms and especially in the hallways.
In terms of appetite, it had grown, and Kiba realized after a few days he had a taste for meat. This didn't surprise him at first, since he had a rather balanced diet, but he noticed he was eating more meat each day. Coupled with this, his muscles also grew out, to the point he looked more like a wrestler than a martial artist. Again, this just added to the mystery.
But the biggest shock of all came two weeks into school.
During an Orange day Pride Time, while he was in the library doing research on the Native American tribes before first contact with the Europeans, he nearly lost control because of a group of immature seniors. They were the usual delinquents who didn't care about grades, and when one of their play-fights went a bit crazy, one of them accidentally rammed into Kiba's right shoulder. He didn't scream in pain, but something in him went crazy, and before he knew it, he had that senior in a deadlock against one of the pillars supporting the roof. Luckily, Carly had been there to defuse the situation before it got any more violent.
Once he found a place to calm down, Kiba checked his injury. But he was unprepared for what he saw. While there was a large red triangular mark on his shoulder extending down to his upper chest, and a long scar running the length of that mark, the skin had sealed up completely. With an injury that severe, he knew there had to be more damage, but the only signs he could find were the scar and red mark.
"What?" he whispered to himself. "This is impossible. How the heck am I healing this quickly?" He thought about telling Mom and Dad, but decided against it. Dad was worried enough over Mom's MS, and adding one more problem was not a good idea.
Then came the moment he anticipated for several days: the first meeting of the Fox Field High Dragons, the martial arts team. Kiba went straight to the gym after Orchestra ended, and as usual he was the first one there. In the center of the gigantic gym lay a large and thick rectangular mat, big enough for at least sixteen people. And sitting right in the center, doing meditation, was an Asian man dressed in a white martial arts outfit and a black belt with six yellow stripes. Kiba knew exactly who this man was: Ryotaro Kurogawa, one of the best martial artists in the county, and a good friend of Kiba's.
"Welcome," the sensei spoke first, without even opening his eyes. "Kiba, is it not?" His voice was a bit higher-pitched than Kiba's, and had a mix of Japanese and American accents. Not surprising, given Kurogawa came from Tokyo.
"You can always tell it's me, huh?" Kiba replied.
"Each person has a different natural pattern. Not even identical twins have the exact same movements. It is the way of nature, to create individuality."
"Can't argue with that," Kiba commented. He had already changed into his workout clothes - a sleeveless red t-shirt and some black workout pants - so he didn't have to worry. And his stuff was already locked in a locker which only he could open.
"I sense something about you has changed, young one," Kurogawa continued, opening his eyes and standing up.
"Let's just say I've been through a lot lately," Kiba replied, not in the mood to discussing the animal attack.
"If you do not wish to discuss it, then I will honor that choice."
That was one thing Kiba liked about this guy. He didn't just teach martial arts; he explained it, and allowed individual styles to bloom. Kurogawa even encouraged some students to find their own ways of combat.
As Kiba started to do his warm-ups, the fifteen other students came in, all dressed appropriately. Most were still engaged in their idle gossip, and Kiba could tell a lot of them were surprised to see him here, given his injury. Out of the new arrivals, two came up to meet him. Carly and Joey. For Carly, this was her first year in martial arts after she quit cheerleading last school year, and for Joey, this was his third.
"Hey," Carly spoke. She wore a sleeveless pink women's workout shirt and grey pants in a similar design (nothing revealing), and her chestnut hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail.
"Hey, there," Kiba replied. "You excited?"
"Yeah, and a bit nervous."
"It's okay. I felt the exact same the first time."
"I imagine you did," came Joey's comment. He wore a grey t-shirt and some black mesh gym shorts.
"Who asked you to eavesdrop?" Kiba remarked. The three of them laughed at that. Some of the other students, mainly the newcomers to the team, glanced over at them, but Kiba ignored their glances.
"You're still wearing the pendant I gave you," Carly said, noticing the silver wolf's head on his chest underneath the shirt. He pulled it out for her to see, noticing not for the first time he still had to clean it off; it was still covered in blood from that night.
"I didn't get a chance to clean it off, yet," Kiba admitted. "Sorry it looks damaged."
"I don't care about that," Carly told him. "I'm just glad you're okay, for the most part."
"Quiet down, please," came Kurogawa's voice. The chattering stopped in a few seconds as everyone turned to face him.
"Welcome back, prior students," Kurogawa began. "And to the new people, welcome to the Dragons. I am your sensei, Ryotaro Kurogawa. I shall begin by calling your name; when I do so, I want you to come onto the mat in a circle around me.
"Freshman Leroy Johnson." This was an African American boy, who was significantly shorter than Kiba, and had dreadlocks of black hair. He looked a bit thin, but Kiba could see a fire in his eyes, which meant this kid had a lot of experience.
"Freshman Ezekiel Lane." A blond haired boy who had a tough demeanor about him, and about Carly's height of 5'8".
"Sophomore Tom Haretis." This was a boy with a very freckled face and fiery red hair, about four inches shorter than Kiba.
"Junior Sasha Pratt." A girl with straight blond hair and a very business-like look to her. She also had a black water-based tattoo on her left wrist, that of a tiger.
"Junior Joseph Park." That was Joey, who sauntered up to the mat with a very confident atmosphere around him. Some of the others snickered at his rather comical actions, and Kiba had to admit Joey could be a bit of a show-off at times.
"Senior Sharif Ahmadi." This was a Saudi Arabian student, originally from Riyadh. He had a slight paunchy build, with dark tan skin and black hair in thick locks.
"Freshman Oscar Tyrell." Another African American boy, but with a bald head in contrast to Leroy. And much taller, nearly as tall as Kiba.
"Junior Jason Mikeralas." This guy had a Native American look to him, with long black hair and tanned skin, but his last name sounded Greek. Probably someone with mixed heritage, Kiba figured, sort of like himself, being a mix of Celtic, Scottish, Irish, German, Japanese and Native American.
"Sophomore Theresa Jones." A short girl with ginger hair and green eyes. She looked new to the team, as Kiba had never seen her before.
"Senior Kelly Walsh." A tall girl with blond hair in a wavy pattern. And a rather uncertain look in her eyes.
"Senior Mike Haretis." Same fiery red hair as his younger brother, but with a more muscular build and glasses. He was actually taller than Kiba, by about an inch.
"Sophomore Harriet O'Reilly." Obviously a girl with Irish heritage, and a very athletic build.
"Sophomore Adam Thatcher." Light brown hair and blue eyes, with the average build and a height of about 5'11".
"Freshman Yasmine Yusuf." Kiba wasn't sure if she was Persian or Indian, but her dark skin and silky black hair certainly gave off the impression of Indian blood, and yet her name seemed Persian in origin.
"Junior Charlene McAllister." Carly went up at her name being called, and everyone got a good look at her. One of them, probably Tom, gave a wolf whistle at her. Kiba suppressed a sigh of annoyance, as he wished people wouldn't stare at his girlfriend.
"And finally, Junior Kiba Hunterson." He went up at last, knowing everyone was staring at him. Many were whispering about his injury and the fact he was also called the White Wolf. He did his best to ignore it, but he knew a lot of people loved to gossip. It didn't mean he had to like it.
"We shall start by having mock fights," Kurogawa continued. "You will be paired off, and the winner of these mock fights will move on to the next level, until only one remains. This will not determine who is best in this team, but will instead determine your strengths and weaknesses. Due to restrictions of time, these fights will only last two minutes. We will start with..." He broke off, scanning the sixteen faces. Kiba didn't really pay attention to who he chose, except when his name was called - to fight Mike Haretis. In under a minute, the eight pairs were arranged so they didn't hit each other.
"Otogai o sonch­o suru," Kurogawa ordered in Japanese; Kiba knew that meant for the combatants to give a bow at each other, which they did. The phrase literally meant, "Honor your opponent."
"Jibun jishin o junbi," he ordered next, again in Japanese, saying "Prepare yourselves!" Kiba got into a Tiger-style stance, while Mike did a Mantis stance; he knew he would have to be careful, as that kind of stance could make one's strength backfire.
"KAISHI!!" he finally said, and the matches began.