There was a place for everything. That idea had gotten Wasabi through just about everything in his life - from his struggle (and failure) to fit in at his middle school (because that wasn't his place, as he had later realized) to his realization that he needed to apply for college at The University of San Fransokyo. If anyone had a good college physics program, then it was there, and it came with a whole list of other great science courses alongside it. That was where he belonged.

He certainly didn't belong in Fred's house. House didn't even seem like the correct term for a place as big as this, but mansion didn't quite do it justice either. Fred's room alone was bigger than some of the classrooms that Wasabi spent his school hours in, and that included the lab areas in the back. There was stuff everywhere, from action figures and vintage comic books held behind glass cases, to old B-movie posters tacked up on the wall. Glow in the dark stars were glued to the ceiling, and stuffed monsters sat on Fred's bed. On one wall was a giant flat screen TV with over a dozen video game systems plugged into it. A few paintings were hung on the wall, made with fine, purposeful brush strokes and clear artistic skill, except of course for the pictures of Fred's face glued to parts of it.

On the floor was a pile of dirty clothes. Judging by how much of it alone was underwear, Fred had not been lying when he had said that he wore his underwear at least four times before getting it washed. Wasabi shivered, remembering when he had first heard the words. Wasabi himself wouldn't touch the dirty clothes pile with a ten foot pole (and a whole pile of cleaning supplies beside him). Considering the pile's atrocious odor, it was hard not to feel bad for Fred's butler. After all, it was his job to both touch and clean that stuff up.

Like all things, there was a place for Fred's dirty clothes - in a dirty clothes hamper or, even better, a washing machine.

There also was a place for everything on Fred's desk. When Wasabi had first seen it, it had been cluttered and nearly overflowing. Papers covered in doodled sat under piles of comic books, and writing utensils (everywhere from mechanical pencils to crayons) were scattered across the desk. Wasabi had taken one look at it and gotten to work, sorting the items into neat piles. The writing utensils had been placed into a cup, the pile of papers stuck into the fat center end of the desk, and the comic books stacked and pushed to the far right. Now, Wasabi could finally see the polished brown wood surface of the desk. Everything was orderly and neat, just as things were supposed to be.

Or at least they would be, once Wasabi had figured out how to organize these action figures. These toys weren't special enough to be held behind glass shrines. If their looks were any indication, with their chipped paint and broken limbs (repaired only by glue and duck tape), then he could see why.

At first he had tried arranging them smallest to largest, and then after that largest to smallest. Neither had worked, as some action figures were so similar in size that it was impossible to tell which were bigger by eyesight alone. Fred had just about everything in his room except for a ruler, and Wasabi wasn't about to go hunting around for one. There was always a chance that he could find something that he didn't want to see.

There was a place for these action figures, Wasabi reminded himself. Once he found it, everything would make sense and things would click into place. Still, it was hard to hold back a sigh. Couldn't it just be a little easier to find that place?

He arranged the figures both out of habit and to pass the time. If his watch was correct, then Fred should have been back in his room some time before. No one said that they were going to the bathroom and then not return for nearly an hour later.

Maybe he got lost in his own house, Wasabi thought. Considering the colossal size of it, he wouldn't have been too surprised if that actually did happen.

He couldn't help but chuckle for a moment at his own joke.

"What's so funny?"

It took a moment for Wasabi to start breathing regularly again. "Oh, Fred," Wasabi said, slowly turning his head to face him. "I didn't hear the door."

Fred walked forward slowly and squinted.

"Did you come to my house just so that you could color code my action figures?"

Wasabi froze, looking from the toys to back up at Fred. He had just finished arranging the green figures from the lightest to darkest shades before he had walked in. After a moment, he shook his head. "I came to ask you something." The room suddenly felt small, so very, very small. It was a ridiculous notion, but his mind no longer seemed to logically process what was around him.

"What?" Though Fred's tone was curious, his face was unusually blank and his eyes were unreadable. Though he was only a few steps away from Wasabi, an ocean seemed to be between the two.

"I, well," Wasabi replied. "Ugh." He paused, closing his eyes for a moment and taking a few deep breaths, just like his mother had taught him.

In. Out.

In. Out.

If he could just relax then things would work out and things would be the way that they were supposed to be.

Oh, why had he insisted on doing this alone with Fred? He could just have easily have asked over a doughnut and coffee at Hiro's aunt's cafe. That seemed much more preferable than here.

"I was wondering if you wanted help applying for The a University of San Fransokyo. I could get the papers for you, unless you want to apply online of course." Though he had calmed, his last few words still came out in a rush.

"Applications? What do you mean?" Fred's blank face vanished, replaced by a raised eyebrow and half frown on his lips.

"You know," Wasabi replied. "College entrance letters."

"Wait," Fred said. "You want me to sign up for college?"

Wasabi nodded. His eyes turned down to the floor.

"Why?"

"Because I think that you have a lot of opportunities, whether you realize it or not. You could learn a lot and make something fantastic."

Fred's eyes widened. "Like I can actually make myself a monster? Or make the invisible sandwich real?"

"Don't get too ahead of yourself. That isn't real science." And considering that there was quite a bit of real science that Fred would need to learn, Wasabi would probably have quite a bit to teach him and more than a few books to loan him. Not that Wasabi would mind. "You'd be a science student, not a miracle worker."

"But I already do go there!" Fred threw his arms in the air. "I'm the school mascot!"

"Yeah, but you could do more than just dress up as..." Wasabi paused again. "Whatever the school mascot is, some weird fish or evolutionary anomaly."

"I'll have you know that I Sam dressed up as a mythical monster." Fred smirked. "Or at least a formerly mythical monster. Once I make that thing, it'll be a part of real science."

"So does that mean that you'll be going?" Wasabi could see Fred already. Just like Hiro, he would be a new student but would fit right in immediately and already know his way around the (nerd) lab. He would still act like his old self, cracking jokes and making references to obscure, older comic books that only he had read, but he would do it while taking advanced physics and chemistry classes or while he was building something of his own in the lab.

"I had never considered it before, but you changed my mind." Fred grinned.

"That's great!"

Fred walked forward, wrapping his arms around Wasabi's neck and putting his chin on Wasabi's shoulder. His touch was familiar, warm, and comforting, and Wasabi relaxed. "You do know that I'll be around you and the rest of the gang all day if we do this?"

"Yeah, I know." Wasabi had already considered the possibilities. It wouldn't be too different from how things were already, and he could certainly think of worse things than being around Fred all day. "Why do you think that I want you to apply so badly?"