The Right Ring

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Obviously, there is a fair difference between us, the students of Shibusen, and normal kids our age.

For one thing, our day to day lessons consist of combat training, defensive strategies, leadership skills, necessary teamwork and of course, kill techniques. What we don't learn on the field, we study it on paper. We memorize until we can't think of anything else, we stress over every single sentence until all we see are words running up the corners of our eyes. We sweat and bleed as much as we can during training because the more you lose there, the less you'll lose when you're against the real action. Or so we hope. There are never any guarantees. No matter how smart or how strong you are, one slip of the hand, one tiny mistake in judgment can prove to be fatal.

That is how we, students of Shibusen, are set apart from the rest of the world.

Though, I suppose there are some things that we share in common. Out there, people learn what they're taught so that they can make a living in the future. They study for years and years, just wasting the best stage of their lives away so that when they're older they can find proper jobs, stable income and so on. When you think about it, it all comes down to survival. And that is exactly what we are taught in our school as well. To survive.

Another thing that is all too similar in Shibusen and other normal kids' schools is that we do have those awkward stages of teenhood. You know, like dating, dances and of course, boys.

You would think that the backbreaking, bone-crippling, skin-tearing assignments that we are all put through would somehow at least compose a group of decent young males with decent sized brains. Unfortunately, that kind of proverbial gene selection seems to have alluded Death City as well as the good part of the rest of our planet.

I never really shown much interest when it comes to boys, truth be told. I don't need to. I can get by fine with just my friends and of course, my meister, Kim. Also most of the school population are practically together anyway. Not officially, but good enough to be labeled 'unavailable'. Half the meister and weapon partnerships are mixed genders after all, in other words, one girl and one boy. And it is a known fact that eighty percent of past graduates of Shibusen have known to marry their partners. Why do you think Maka, or even Soul never gets ask out? It's not that suitors are hard to come by. It's just a sort of rule in an unpublished rule book that says: HANDS OFF MY MIESTER! and vise versa.

And well, those with same gender partnerships, like Kim and I, are too hard to approach anyway. Hardly ever do I get asked out. Kim too. But note the word: hardly.

The Winter Festival is approaching, a month from now to be exact, and Shibusen is having a party (as usual) in celebration. This event is more prestigious than the rest however, given the fact that parents are encouraged to attend and meet up with our teachers from the institute. It is like an end of the year PTM (parents-teacher-meeting) and dance rolled into one big social catastrophe. It is also during this time when boys seem to muster up that much needed bravado, stop by the local flora shop, corner girls when they least expect it and take that rather scary leap which is also known as 'asking someone out'.

And that is exactly how I ended up with my back against a noticeboard and a bundle of badly handled daisies tickling my nose.

"I-I rea-really like you, Ja-Jack-Kie and I ho-hope you'd like t-to go with m-me to the d-da-dance?"

I glance over the boy's shoulder where Kim stood a couple feet away besides the girls bathroom, her face sympathetic but powerless, just as I am. Despite her obvious pity, I know what she would want me to do though. Just accept the poor boy, John, Javen, Jake or whatever his name was. It's not everyday someone is gutsy enough to go up to a girl with flowers (not to mention during busy lunch period).

"Look, Jason . . ." I start.

"Erm, i-it's Je-Jeremy." He flushes deeper than I thought possible.

"Jeremy," I say softly and, hoping to ease his nerves, I place a hand on his arm. "Thank you for asking. I'm really grateful that you did." It sounds more genuine than I could aim for and I smile.

It seems to work. The boy looks somewhat relief. He lowers the flowers and, still blushing madly, grins. I have to admit, he is very cute. Not handsome, but cute. And very, very neat which is more than I can say for most guys I know. His brown hair is a little long, nearing his shoulders, and combed straight. Absentmindedly I play with the image of him with a ponytail and how much good that would do for him and his appeal. I'm not sure where that thought came from but all of a sudden I force myself to focus on his eyes instead. His lovely, grey eyes. Though I do prefer them to be a darker shade, like maybe black. Smoky black. Also if his features were more sharper, more defined, it wouldn't hurt too.

"So, you'll go with me?"

Had he not repeated the question, I would have forgotten that he was even there. Mentally, I shake my head clear of another boy's face I had in mind and turn my attention to the one in front of me.

"Umm . . ." I take another look over at Kim but she's not there anymore. She's probably in the bathroom, waiting to hear every detail once I'm done. I sigh. "Jacob-"

"Jeremy."

"What?" I blink.

"My name." He shuffles his feet in discomfort. "Y-you got it wr-wrong again."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I try laughing it off though deep down I feel like a complete idiot. "It's just really noisy right now. I couldn't hear you right." Which is true. What else do you expect from lunchtime?

"I guess . . ." mutters Jeremy.

There is an uncomfortable pit in my stomach. I honestly have no idea what else to say. The boy is sweet, generous and interested in me. Me: the boring, studious weapon who's friends sometimes use to roast marshmallows. It's been so long since I've known the feeling of being liked. Not just as a friend, but as an actual girl. All I need to do now is return the feeling with one single word. All I need to do is say: yes. Simple enough really. But if it's so simple, why do I feel like my tongue is in knots, like there's something holding me back.

Jeremy. Jacqueline and Jeremy. Jackie and Jeremy.

I repeat our names again and again in my head, getting more uncertain by each tick of the clock. Even his name does not appeal to me as much as I hope it would. It just didn't flow together. Not in my opinion anyway. I much prefer something like, I don't know, say . . .

Just then, something pricks the sides of my face and pinches my nose. I blink as I realize the school suddenly became dark in under a second. A hand intertwines with my own and I feel a pleasant squeeze. I turn, only to see this pair of intense eyes, smoky black, soften at the sight of me.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he says and in his free hand is a sandwich, wrapped in plastic foil. "The cafeteria lines are hell."

I'm speechless. Because this is more than unexpected. This is a dream. It must be. He turns to Jack, I mean Jeremy, and instantly his gaze hardens and he mutters: "Beat it. She's taken."

The boy doesn't need to be told twice. He takes off, leaving a trail of daisy petals behind him. The dream seems to end once the boy is no longer in sight. Harvar lets go of my hand, plucks his sunglasses from my face and puts it back on. He then unwraps the sandwich and take a big bite while I, the ever articulate one, can only stare in dumb silence. I don't realize he was watching me back (you can never tell with those damn glasses) until he shoves the sandwich under my nose.

"Want some?" he mumbled through his full mouth.

I shake my head, pushing the offer away. "What was that?" I demand.

"What was what?"

"You know what I mean."

He shrugs. "Kim came running to us, saying you needed help." He takes another bite and I wait for him to finish chewing. "Ox, as usual, cave in before she even got two words out. He always did have this fantasy of playing the knight in shining armor. Anyway, once we heard the story, they both turned to me with these big hopeful looks. I couldn't say no, could I? So I got sent to do the dirty work and well . . ." He swallows loudly. ". . .here we are."

"So, that was all," I steady my voice. "An act?"

"Yup." There's a pause. "You mad or something?"

"No!" My tone louder than necessary. "I mean, why would I be mad?"

"I dunno. Maybe you wanted to say yes and I butted in-"

I cut him off there. "Trust me, I couldn't ask for better timing. Thanks."

He nods. I wait for him to leave, for him to rejoin his partner but instead, he leans casually against the noticeboard, munching on his sandwich. I join him. I'm not sure how long we stood there but eventually, the din of the school starts to recede and the crowd thins. I take this as a sign that the bell is about to go off. Still, I do not move. Because I quite enjoy his presence and the silence between us. While some might feel the need to fill up empty spaces with conversations, I find the quietness comfortable. So does he, I bet. There is a crinkling of plastic and he throws the now empty wrapper at the trash can. It's a clean shot.

A piercing ring sounds and we watch together as student rush off to their respective classes. Soon, it's just me and him in the hallway. After awhile, he gives a sigh, peeling himself off the wall, hands in his pocket.

"We should get going," he says. "Maria-sensei's gonna throw a fit."

"I never took you as one for tardiness." I venture.

"Likewise." A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

As we walk along, we pass a blushing couple and as I look carefully, the girl takes a rose from the boy and nods, to which the boy looks ready to punch the ceiling in joy.

"Looks like we're not the only late ones," comments Harvar. "You know, I never really understood these dances. Why do people always think that they have to get dates if they're going? Can't they just grow a pair and go solo?"

My eyebrows rise in surprise and I process his questions thoroughly before saying, "That's . . . That's just stupid." He turns to me at this point and I continue. "You're not brave if you go on your own. Because even if we did, we wouldn't really be by ourselves in the first place. Our friends would be there, so would our teachers and you'll get to enjoy the night with them. Just like you would any other night. But getting the chance to spend time with a special person, that's different. And not many people get that chance because frankly, they can't seem to grow a pair in time to ask them. You can think that going solo means being brave or cool or whatever, but to me, if you turn up at a dance alone, it just means that you're a coward. A coward who's stupid enough not to realize it."

I don't know where that outburst came from and I don't really care. I just felt a sort of trigger go off at his words and was unable to stop myself. We are at our door now and underneath those glasses, I can feel him studying me with those intense eyes. It makes me uncomfortable for I have a feeling that I've crossed some sort of line. I reach for the knob to end the torment but he stops me, his hand on my wrist. He steps closer, closing the space between us until I can smell a faint trace of cologne and chicken mayo.

"Fine," he says. "Go with me."

"What?"

"You're right. I'm a coward. So go with me to the dance."

Again, there is silence. I suddenly had the urge to laugh. Why, I hadn't the slightest idea. "Take off your glasses," I say. He looks confuse and I smile. "So that I know you're not pulling my leg."

Though his movement is slow with reluctance, he lifts the shades off anyway and set them atop his head. "Happy?"

I nod, barely holding in a grin. "Now say it again."

He rolls his eyes, and I have to say that is the first time I've ever seen him do that. "You're right. I'm wrong and I'm a coward. Will you go with me to the dance?"

"Fine."

"Fine," he puts back on the glasses and we finally enter class.

Maria-sensei looks up from the blackboard as we step inside. We bow hurriedly, apologizing as we did. Usually, if Black Star or Soul rush in late, they would be greeted with the chalk eraser to the face. I brace myself for the same treatment but instead, Maria-sensei simply glare before shooing us off.

"Since it's your first offense, I'll let it slide," she says. "But remember I won't be so lenient next time."

We nod and I sigh with relief. We ascend the stairs to our seats when Maria-sensei calls out again: "Oh by the way, I forgot to tell you." She grabs two papers from a pile on her desk and hands it to the nearest student. "We're having a pop quiz today on yesterday's topic," she says to us and then, addressing the student, "Pass this to Jackie and Harvar please."

I take my seat next to Kim who barely looks up from her work. Not that I mind. Everyone else looks just as engrossed in their papers anyway. Maria-sensei always throw the most challenging quizzes. As I grab a pencil and start with the first question, there is this bouncing happiness inside of me and I can't stop a smile from spreading across my face.

Jackie and Harvar. Jacqueline and Harvar.

It has a nice ring doesn't it?

End

Author's Note: Honestly, they can make the cutest pairing ever! (in my opinion anyway) :p

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