Hey long time no see, eh? Sorry I know people are probably thinking "Did she drop off the face of the earth?" No I didn't, it's much worse. School started. So I ahven't had time to update the cursed which is killing me because I want to get to the end. I would love to actually finish a story. Anyway, I've also been working on this...well I guess you could call it a project and it's taken up every last bit of my spare time. This is something I wrote forever ago when I saw that stupid Mandy Moore movie. Please don't kill me I was tricked into it by an evil friend. Well the whole time I could only think that this would be entertaining if it were like Heero and Duo instead of whiny Mandy Moore and that boyband wanna be guy. I promise now that I'm done with my project all spare time will be dedicated to The Cursed so I should have a new chapter out soon, that is if anyone remembers actually that story. Dang it's been forever since I updated. But hey at least I've posted something so you know I'm still alive.
Shakespeare's Worst Nightmare
The dim halls of East Bay High were usually silent during the first class period on Monday morning. All the students were neatly filed away in their respective homerooms, writing notes to each other or generally ignoring what the teacher was lecturing about. But today the silence of the halls was shattered by the sound of heavy, solemn footsteps and the occasional slight squeak of the pair of worn yellow sneakers that a lonely figure wore on his high-socked feet. The dark shadow of a young man walking down the hall broke up the usual monotony of the locker littered background. His head and eyes were downcast, not in shame or guilt, but in pure defiance. If you ever got a chance to look into those eyes you knew that this guy followed his rules, and only his rules. You could tell that he decided what his missions in life were going to be, and he didn't take kindly to direct orders if he didn't agree with them. Most teachers found out pretty early that they should just give him a final goal and leave how he accomplished it up to him, because he was going to do it his own way anyhow. He did what he felt like he needed to do, regardless of everyone around him. Yet despite all his problems with authority, he was one of the most dedicated and passionate people the teacher's had ever seen, well at least the teachers who paid enough attention to their students saw this, and it was only truly noticeable when he really cared about the assignment. To the rest of the world he was just a cold-hearted kid with a great left hook and hauntingly chilly eyes.
He was East Bay's best student too, and not just academically. He did all of his homework on time and did it extremely well and, to top it off, he was the tight end for the school's football team. In his first year playing he had been declared the team's MVP, scoring more touchdowns in any given game than all the alumni before him, hell they didn't even come close to his total. His second year on the team had brought him another MVP title and a nomination for co-captain, his touchdown total now surpassing all the alumni put together. He was untouchable. Everyone knew that this season now that James, the old captain, had graduated he was first on the list for taking over. So here he was, future captain of the football team, honor-roll student extraordinaire, all around prodigy child, and he was walking the hall with a pink slip to the principal's office. Was this a one-time occurrence you ask? Nope it wasn't unusual at all. See the young man's complete disregard for authority often got him into these predicaments. Now mind you, nobody thought of him as a delinquent, he was actually quite honorable, but he wasn't intimidated by rules or punishments.
You see this perfect student had one big problem, fighting. The football player's solution to all problems in life was to hit the other guy. He would either sock the bully or just up and deck the kid getting bullied just to stop him from getting into a fight that he obviously couldn't handle, saving him from a lot more pain. He wasn't known as a bully, he was just someone you didn't mess with. Everyone, especially his fellow peers, had known that from the guy's arrival the first day of his freshman year. Just looking at his face they could tell. The icy expression and emotionless façade, you knew you didn't touch this guy unless you were extremely masochistic or just plain suicidal. His eyes, his eyes were what really scared them. His face told you nothing, no feelings good or bad, but his eyes were always a storm. Dedication, passion, pain, and something deeper, something raw and primal, they were all there perfectly contained in those deep cobalt blue orbs. You felt like you were staring down a wild animal that considered you its next prey. When that fiery blaze was cast on you, even just a glance, your blood ran so cold it burned. Even the seniors hadn't been able to sum up the courage to haze him during his freshman year.
They were very thankful when he became part of the football team and they could claim that they wouldn't hurt him and risk the game. Then when he became the best damn thing to happen to the school since all Personal Pizza Friday, the seniors realized they would never have to justify their lack of rough play. So the guy was pretty much left alone, he wasn't very social to begin with and his problem with authority tended to make people shy away from him. Yet he was still considered a member of the popular crowd. He sat at the jock table, and was constantly sought after by head cheerleader and all around Barbie doll, Relena Darlian. He was in with the in crowd even though he never actually spoke to, or cared about any of these people. And Relena was merely an obstacle in his life that he had to endure while refraining from the use of his preferred way of overcoming all obstacles, punching their lights out. True he usually accomplished this by running at the mere glimpse of pink, or faint sound of that obnoxious giggle, but in this case the end justified the means. He was willing to hide like a coward if it meant he would avoid having to listen to that whiny little girl rattle on about inconsequential things all the while trying to touch him.
He had, however, made one friend at the school, the star of East Bay's gymnastic team, Trowa Barton. They both spent a lot of their time in the small weight room connected to the gym, and eventually they spoke to each other, though it took about six months. It was the gymnast that had finally initiated communication between them, and he actually did it in good time, the not-yet captain would probably have never said a word. The two became fast friends, even though Trowa was a year older. They were comforted by each other's understanding of the benefits of silent communication, and the older boy quickly grew to respect the man behind the stoic mask. He knew it was a mask, after all he wore the same one. Though his was more a cool calm indifference, where as the MVP's was more an emotionless yet hostile wall. The tight end wasn't nearly as volatile as his persona may lead one to believe, he never actually caused any of the fights he was in. To him, every time he threw a punch it was because that was the most logical solution. His problem with authority made it so he didn't care if teacher's agreed with him or not. Though truth be told, one punch from the co-captain usually spared the teacher's a lot of grief from big gang fights that would get a lot more innocents hurt. The school was in a rough neighborhood and secretly the teachers all agreed that his interventions were probably the best, if not the only, way to handle these situations without a lot of people getting hurt. But rules were rules, and that was why at this moment the young man pushed open the door that led to Principal Kushrenada's office waiting room.
"Oh Heero, we've only been in school for a month. This is no way to become captain of the football team." The principal's secretary, who everyone just called Noin because she hated formalities and her first name, greeted Heero as he stepped into the office. He silently handed her the pink slip and took a seat in one of the three chairs against the wall opposite Noin's desk.
"Fighting again, I don't even want to imagine what we would have on our hands if you didn't step in. I'm sure Sally would be a hell of a lot busier." Noin always spoke what was on her mind, the principal encouraged this in his employees, but that didn't change the fact that they had to follow the school board rules. Noin, however, was second to Sally, the school nurse, in the talent for blurting out her thoughts about the school's inadequacies. Sally and Noin were both young and got along well, they could always be caught on their breaks in the teacher's lounge sharing gossip and grievances. Sally had been a medic in the Marine core, and old habits die hard. She had worked with mostly men and she cussed, told dirty jokes, and openly expressed her discontent with the school board. Heero was one of their prime examples of where the system went wrong. Heero was a good person and acted selflessly in tough situations. He would also be the only one punished since no one else threw a fist. Everyone knew that Heero hadn't started this fight, he never did. The guy was pure as gold, he just wasn't the refined and molded gold that society desired, he was the raw stuff straight from the mine, rough and jagged on the outside, but underneath it all, he shone brilliantly.
Heero sat there, seeming to tune out the world around him. He had one leg crossed over the other and his arms were folded in a casual pose of indifference. His eyes were closed as if to shut everything out. His usual frown was etched firmly into his features. The occasional rise and fall from his chest signifying that he was breathing, was the only thing that ensured this young man was not a statue. After a few moments, during which the only sound in the room was Noin's typing, he lazily cracked open one eye then another and surveyed the surrounding office for the millionth time in his high school career. He looked bored while he examined what kind of books the secretary had on her shelf. He noticed an unusual amount of Steven king novel's for an institution of learning, but there was also a lot of career advancement manuals and what looked like a few college textbooks from courses taken throughout the years. His eyes traveled carelessly around the room and landed on a billboard with all the postings from the school clubs and such. He saw the football team's tryout sign up, the drama club apparently was looking for a new stage team member, and the student government was looking for a new treasurer. Already bored with the postings, his eyes roamed over to the various knickknacks on Noin's desk. There were surprisingly many though most were on the cabinets behind her. Apparently she liked geckoes, she had stuffed ones and sculpted ones and wooden ones, they were on picture frames and magnets. There was even the occasional chameleon here and there, gifts from students who probably just saw lizards and got the first one they found. He had seen all this before though, many times actually. His face completely neutral, he slipped his eyes back closed and once again pretended the world around him did not exist. Minutes ticked by and he barely moved. His eyes remained closed, even when a buzz somewhere nearby told him that the principal was talking to the secretary. He didn't even bother to listen to their conversation. It was always the same when they discussed him.
"You can go in now Heero." Noin looked apologetic, she always did when she sent him into the office, like if she thought she could, she would just tear the slip up and pretend nothing happened.
Heero took his time opening his eyes and getting up from the chair he had been occupying. He strolled over to the familiar door of the principal's office, as if he didn't have a care in the world. The shiny nameplate twinkled with the principal's last name, Kushrenada. He paused when he heard the cessation of the secretary's typing, he could feel her eyes resting on his profile. He remained neutral, he was used to people sneaking nervous glances at him. This was different though. There was something heavier in her stare. She wanted to ask him something. He could feel it.
"Before you go in Heero, I have to know." There it was, he knew it. "I have to know why. Why don't you just let them kill each other? Why don't you just ignore it, it's not really your problem? Why hurt yourself and help them, they never learn their lesson." Noin was pleading with him, she wanted to see him go far. She knew he would, he didn't let anyone walk on him. But his honor would hold him back in life, it was disgusting to her to think about just how true that statement was nowadays. Heero simply looked at her, there was nothing in his face, no annoyance, no anger, nothing. It was as though to him the answer was obvious, like it was as sensible a solution as an umbrella when it's raining.
"What would you do." It wasn't really a question. He expected her to agree that, of course, she would do the same thing. He had so much honor and such a noble mind that he didn't even think there could be another solution. Running away wasn't an option in his mind, and just ignoring was as bad as being the one who actually picked all the fights. He stepped into the office and shut the door behind him, not even bothering to wait for her response.
"I don't know Heero, I really don't know." She replied to the closed door, lost in her own thoughts. She was sure that the person she used to be, the Noin from the past, would have done exactly what the young Asian boy did. What had she become? The world had hardened her, made her concerned for her survival and no one else's, but people like Heero brought out the old Noin that she missed. The Noin that would have chosen honor and love over paying her taxes, the Noin that did love. 'Oh Zechs,' she mentally cried, 'Where did you go?' She shook herself to clear her mind of the memories and went back to filling out paper work, as secretaries seemed to endlessly do.
"Mr. Yuy, I would say it is a pleasure to see you if it were under different circumstances. Not the best way to start off your junior year. Though it seems to be a ritual with you, this has to be the earliest you have graced my office with your presence." Principal Kushrenada set down the manila folder he had been looking at and turned his piercing gaze up to Heero. The Principal was the only man who could unnerve Heero and, even more impressively, he did it with just his eyes. He turned Heero's own defense back on him. But Heero never let his discomfort show through and proudly looked back into the older man's eyes without so much as a flinch. He was quite positive that it was his permanent record that now lay on the principal's desk, and he knew that these incidents were starting to stack up.
"Hn." Heero grunted with a small nod of his head, as was his usual response to…well everything. He was well aware that he would probably be suspended this time, and that it would automatically make him ineligible for Captain. Maybe he wouldn't even be allowed to play on the team this year, but Heero didn't do something without thinking it through first.
"Well, as I'm sure you're aware, fighting is strictly against the rules at this school. The Board of Education requires of me a rather harsh punishment for this many infractions." The principal leaned back in his wooden chair and observed Heero's nonchalant behavior, at least it would be taken that way by a passing onlooker. Treize Kushrenada, however, had taken a special interest in the boy. He had studied his mannerisms and discovered that what people thought was uncaring aloofness was actually the result of calm acceptance. The boy logically thought out and weighed every action he took before making a move, like life was a game of chess. His indifference was actually acquiescence, since in his mind he had already decided the necessity of his actions outweighed the consequences before he even raised his fist. Heero nodded his head once again, though this time it was slower and a little hesitant there was something in Treize's eyes that made him wary. It was obvious to Treize that he was not going to try to defend himself like everyone else who walked into this office immediately spouting off any excuse their feeble minds could invent, all in order to lighten punishment. But not Heero, if he were Catholic this would be his atonement, and he took it without complaint. Treize had great respect for the young man.
"The Board, however, does not technically have a clearly stated required punishment for ending fights before they start. Even if you end those fights using…self defense techniques." Treize smiled at the boy in front of him in a way that made Heero narrow his eyes suspiciously, but still he said nothing. Always calculating, always weighing. The boy was quite an amazing person for any age. Even now he was balancing in his mind the consequences of asking what the principal meant, he opted for silence as usual.
"So I suppose I'll just have to invent a punishment that I see as fit for the crime." Treize once again picked up Heero's record in the manila folder, and appeared to be examining it, though in truth he wanted to see how the boy would react. Heero sat still, absolutely nothing revealed on his face, though his posture was a little stiffer and mistrust was sparkling in his eyes. He was sizing the principal up in his head, determining if his punishment was going to be lighter or a lot harsher. It seemed though, after some deliberation, that either way he was prepared to take what was given to him for the suspicion had left his deep blue orbs. The young principal set the folder back down on his desk and folded his hands on top of it. Something in the smirk on his lips put Heero back a little. The boy remained taciturn however, for he was still unsure of what the principal's actions meant.
"Well Mr. Yuy, it has come to my attention that you have difficulty communicating with your peers. Other than football you are involved in no other after school activities. I am aware that practice is demanding on one's time, but I also know that you spend twice as long in the gym as any of your teammates and you hardly communicate with them unless necessary for the game. Although I usually support an individual's preferences, it is my job to prepare you students for the future and communication is important no matter what you go on to do Mr. Yuy." Treize paused in his speech to evaluate the shock value of all this on Heero, and as suspected the boy remained absolutely stoic. This kid would do great in poker was the odd thought that popped into the principal's head.
"So I have decided that the most appropriate punishment for someone such as yourself would be to have you join in a highly social activity. One where you could not avoid communication no matter how good at it you are." At this however Heero's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits and for the first time in the three years that Treize had known the boy, there was a hint of distress in them. Treize was oddly glad that he had been able to visibly unnerve the boy, and judging by the range of reaction he had probably rattled the kid more than anyone else had in his life. Treize smiled further as the thought crossed his mind that he would not have that title for long. Where he was sending Heero was where the greatest rattler of minds, young and old, usually resided.
"Mr. Yuy, it is my pleasure to announce that you are this year's newest member of East Bay High School's Drama Club."
So that's that, unoriginal I know. The Cursed is next, I promise. Stupid Mandy Moore.