"Your cracked heart cries for them,
Yet no one ever fixes what they break."
- Author.

***

Ken straightened, took a deep breath, and threw the basketball down, hoping to see it bounce back into his hands. The ball did bounce, but it bounced away from him.

He sighed, then ran to catch the ball that was quickly rolling away. His hands gripped it, and he thought of trying again, but he felt like he had tried too many times.

Before he knew it, his hand was on the light switch, turning off the lights in the massive covered court that his brother owned. He then placed the ball back in its shelf.

He was good at basketball. He was, before he had to study for his mission: keeping an eye on Señor's daughter. Since then he had stopped playing, and along with his love for basketball, his skill disappeared too.

His lips curled into a smirk. That brat Yassi was probably crying in a shower about her crush right now. Spying on a hopeless romantic, even when it was tiring at times, was entertaining. Even if that hopeless romantic was his boss' daughter.

A bark sounded from the inside of his brother's mansion, and he began running. It was well past Choco's feeding time.

Another bark sounded as he opened the door. Soon, a small teacup Shih Tzu with chocolate brown fur and adorable eyes ran down the massive hallway that was only part of the front of the mansion.

Ken, with the laziness that he was infamous for, crossed his arms and waited until the dog finally reached him. Even when he saw that it was panting, the boy still refused to pick it up as it danced around his feet.

Finally, after a few minutes, he picked up the exhausted dog. He could feel its heart beating through its chest. As if not really knowing what such stress could cause a little innocent animal, he laughed.

"Nice run, Choco," he said.

The dog was so tired, that if it was human, it wouldn't even be able to nod in response. Ken could sense that it was slowly starting to die from exhaustion.

With a smirk and without a care in the world, he ran to the hallway to his lab. Inside, he grabbed a syringe filled with bright green liquid from a wide table filled with other instruments and more syringes.

He injected the liquid into Choco. In a few minutes, the dog was immediately revived, and its tongue was sticking out in a happy smile.

Ken set Choco down on the table and grabbed a clipboard from a drawer. On it, he wrote the date, the time, and how much time it took until his pet reached a dying state through exhaustion.

There were other dates and times on the clipboard, indicating moments of agony and pain for the dog that would make an animal rights advocate scream in outrage.

But, of course, Ken knew science was much more important than the petty feeling of a soft-hearted person with a weak mind.

Ken was about to return the clipboard when he remembered something. He wrote before the date today: sample has not been fed recently.

Then he noticed something else. The time it took before the dying state was almost the same as the others even though Choco had not been fed before the test today. Basically, Choco now had much more stored energy than before. That meant that the bright green liquid was working. Ken was now one step closer to creating a revolutionary energy drink.

Choco barked beside the clipboard. Even though the dog had been energized, she still had a lingering sense of hunger. That was something else Ken had to fix later.

He picked up Choco, this time very gently and with care, and patted her on the head. "Sorry, little girl. Had to do that. Still you're alive now, right? Right, good girl?"

He nuzzled her, and she smiled.

***

Chris sat in the detention room, a bored look on his face.

The teacher who was observing him wrinkled her nose. "God, that t-shirt of yours smells awful. Do you even wash it?"

He glared at her. "No."

"Well, you should put some effort into being more approachable, at least. You're going to have no luck if you try to get that best friend of yours to like you."

His eyes narrowed into slits. "News flash, Miss, I don't give a crap about what you think. And besides, is this really how you want to waste your time here?"

"Watch your language, Morrison."

"You watch your back."

"You're right, this isn't how I want to spend my time obserivng your sorry ass," the teacher replied, and walked toward the door. "Have fun, asshole."

"Language!" Chris shouted as she closed the door.

*

The teacher smiled as she walked out of the detention room. The little sucker would probably die of boredom; she could swear the room was specially designed to do just that.

Her quick steps led her to the ladies' restroom, and she ducked inside one of the cubicles. She pulled a small device from inside her skirt. "Señor?"

"Dolores. Have you succeeded in crushing that boy's ego?"

"Not yet. It may longer than expected. I'll give him credit for at least one fact: he's a sure ass of himself."

The deep voice of her boss purred through the device's speaker in an amused laugh. "Good. Once we break him, he shall be ripe for my dear Yassi to take. Do everything you can to make sure that happens."

She smiled. "Absolutely, Señor."

*

Meanwhile, alone in the detention room, Chris felt like he was dying of boredom.

If he knew what exactly was happening in the ladies' restroom, or who the rude teacher earlier really was, he probably would be more than a little excited.

He absently wondered about where Gwen was, and what was taking her so long to return. Was she in danger? The woods were dangerous only if you became lost. That was impossible; she knew them well. The teacher? She didn't look like trouble, but she was weird...

He pushed thoughts of Gwen from his mind and got up. Worrying wasn't going to help her. Doing something would.