Chapter 2: Pride and Prejudice

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Eyes closed and face tilted towards the sky, Nao took a moment to relish in the warmth of sunlight streaming through the panel of glass that felt too much like prison bars right then. It really was a beautiful day, the kind that marked it as decidedly April in Tokyo, when cherry blossoms bloomed in its full glory and students ventured out to begin yet another school year.

For her, it only seemed to make her remember.

"Bloom like a sakura tree, Nao," her mother used to say on the first day of a new school year. She would stand by the front door, tall and beautiful and smiling. And Nao would laugh, waving as the car pulled out of the driveway.

It was their inside joke, its beginning going far back to when Nao had first become old enough to attend kindergarten. She had cried for days at the prospect of separating from her mother to face an unknown, until her mother took her for a walk in their garden and pointed out the pale pink petals that had barely just begun to bloom.

"Do you know why children start school when the sakura trees bloom?" she had asked. When Nao shook her head, still hiccuping, her mother had smiled like she had a great secret to share. "So that little girls like you," she said, tapping her on the nose, "can bloom beautifully at school too."

A small, bitter smile flitted across Nao's lips at the memory. She had indeed bloomed, too, once.

Leaning forward and touching her forehead to the cool glass of the wide window, Nao's eyes sought out the impressive row of pink on brown four stories down. There, Eitoku's main entrance stood proudly, giving way to the sakura trees that arced the long path leading towards the street beyond the campus gate. The flowers had bloomed earlier than usual this year, and already, the blossoms were beginning to flutter to the ground.

She traced a finger along the scar on her face, a faint groove across her right cheek. Perhaps it was fitting. Cherry blossoms, while known for its breathtaking beauty, had always been equally known for its fleeting nature - for its quick death. Sometimes, she wondered if the irony had occurred to her mother as well.

It probably had.

Bloom like a sakura tree, Nao.

Her mother had not said those words to her again, not for three years now.

Nao turned away from the window with a sigh. She was dwelling again.

Gray eyes settling back on the room, she took in the paint-stained tables, buckets of paintbrushes, and the stacks of canvases leaning against the wall. At least, Nao thought, there is this.

Even at the beginning of a new school year with the painting room looking its neatest, it was still a bit of a mess. But this was how she preferred it - flawed, familiar, real. Eyes softening a little at the thought, she slid off the counter lining the base of the window and inhaled deeply, savoring the turpentine-filled air even as it stung her nose and made her lungs protest.

She eyed the unfinished painting she had started earlier that morning, more than a little annoyed with herself. Having nowhere else to go after walking out of English class, she had ended up here. But despite spending most of third period trying to coax the image in her head onto the canvas, the only thing she had managed to do was give it an unmotivated dab or two. Not quite willing to give up yet, she reached for a paintbrush but ended up jumping about a foot in the air when a purple hand appeared, wriggling an inch away from her nose. She scurried backwards so quickly it was a wonder she didn't trip.

"Yasui-sensei!" Nao wheezed, hands fumbling to yank her earphones off. Breath still heaving, she fanned herself and tried to swallow. "I think I just lost a chunk of my soul."

The art teacher chuckled. "You kids and technology these days," she said, finger tapping Nao's earphones, "with things like this stuck in your ears all day long and getting lost in your own world."

"That's kind of the point," said Nao, a little wryly.

"Wander too far off and one day, you're going to wake up old like me and realize you've missed life altogether," the older woman warned, though her tone was only half-serious.

Nao grinned, shrugging a little guiltily. Secretly, she thought that wouldn't be too bad at all. If there was anything she wanted to miss, it'd be her farce of a life.

Yasui-sensei shook her head and smiled. Then she reached out and ruffled Nao's hair, one eyebrow raised. "Still trying to look as outrageous as ever, I see. That's quite a color you've got there."

"Ah." She gave an awkward laugh and picked at the strands of her short, flaming red hair. "I just wanted a change."

"People are going to really think you're a delinquent if you keep this up." Yasui-sensei frowned at all the art materials spread out on the table. "How long have you been in here? I know you have me next, but third period doesn't end for another fifteen minutes."

"Uh," she hedged, "not that long?"

Yasui-sensei gave her a measured look, and just when Nao thought she might get in trouble, the teacher turned abruptly, beckoning. "Come," she said, "I still have a couple more things to do next door."

Eyebrows furrowing, Nao hurried after the teacher. Making a hard right, her footsteps slowed as she warily stepped into the adjacent ceramics room.

It's your business if you want to cut classes, but don't let me catch you in here again.

The warning rose unbidden in her head and she scowled. She really didn't know where that Kurosawa got off reprimanding her and then talking as if he owned this place. What's more, he had obviously been cutting classes himself if he was also here to begin with. F4 or not, if he tried that crap with her again, she was going to rip him a new one.

Her gaze trailed over to the sculpture that was at the crux of it all. It was still sitting at the same spot on one of the long tables in the middle of the room, the only difference being the large opaque sheet of black plastic that draped over it and shielded the sculpture completely from view. Belatedly, she realized Yasui-sensei was making a direct beeline for the sculpture, obviously expecting her to follow.

"Here," the art teacher said, hands already reaching over to lift the plastic covering as one would with a veil, "help me with this. I need to move it to the kiln room before the students start arriving."

Nao hesitated, her breath catching as the sculpture came into view, the same way it had that morning when she first caught sight of what she could only describe as a magnificent art piece.

It was about a foot and a half tall, made up of unbaked white clay pieced together to form five faces - the same and yet entirely different ones - pushing outwards at various angles so that no matter where she stood, it'd provide a unique view wholly unlike the one she'd see if she had been standing just a step over to the side.

"It's heavier than it looks," Yasui-sensei cautioned. Then moving behind the sculpture, she instructed, "Here, take that side but don't lift it until I tell you to."

Nao nodded and moved closer to the piece, more than a little irked by the sudden irrational sense of apprehension making itself known, in much the same way the shadow of a figure materializing to loom over her might.

Don't touch that.

She slid her hands under the foot of the sculpture - Ha! Take this! - and resisted the crazy urge to pat down the whole thing with her hands just to spite the voice in her head. Distantly, she was aware of how childish she was being, but she couldn't help it any more than she could explain it.

When the sculpture had been securely relocated to a shelf inside the room where most of the pottery were fired, Nao took a step back and gave it another appreciative glance. "This is amazing," she breathed reverently. "Is it yours, Yasui-sensei?"

"Oh no, definitely not," the teacher replied with a laugh, like the idea itself was something incredible. "The artist is actually a third year student. He's not enrolled in any of the art classes, but he helps out around here, and in exchange, I let him work on whatever he wants to on his own time."

That was... unexpected. She couldn't imagine anyone in Eitoku possessing the skill or talent to create something like this, never mind the dedicated interest and effort it would obviously require if what the art teacher said was true.

"That reminds me," Yasui-sensei said as she checked the time on her watch and moved to leave the kiln room, "now that you're in high school, I've been meaning to ask if you want the student aide position. The art department could certainly use one more."

"You want me to be your aide?" Nao echoed. "But-" she stopped, unsure.

She had always assumed the student aide positions were offered to older students. Besides, she wasn't even sure if she was qualified to be one. Although she knew about the painting side of things well enough, her experience with ceramics was still not up to par in her opinion.

"Sure," Yasui-sensei continued, "you've always helped out next door. Why not get credit for it now that you can? It'll be useful for your records when you apply to art schools later - that is what you want to do, isn't it?"

"Well... yes," she replied slowly. The thought of returning to New York and attending an art school there after leaving Eitoku was sometimes the only thing that kept her going. And now that she had gotten over the initial shock, she could feel herself getting excited at the idea of officially helping out around here.

"Then it's settled," the teacher said firmly, all the while keeping up a brisk pace as she walked out of the ceramics classroom and down the hall towards the art department's office.

A moment later, Nao found herself standing in front of a desk piled high with graphite pencils, rendering markers, the odd paintbrush or two, and a mountain of sketchbooks that looked like they would slide right off the desk if she breathed at it wrong. Her lips curved upwards at the sight.

"This should also be a good learning opportunity for you," Yasui-sensei said between indecipherable mutters as she rifled through some folders in a filing cabinet. "Your partner's exceptionally talented in ceramics - you'll be able to pick up a lot of things from him."

Nao started. "My partner?"

"The ceramics student aide," Yasui-sensei explained distractedly as she pulled out a piece of paper and squinted at it. "Ah, here it is."

Nao accepted the paper and gave it a once-over. It looked like a pretty straightforward form for enlisting student aides. "Um, about the other aide-"

The school bell rang then, and she suddenly found a stack of brand new sketchbooks heaped onto her arms.

"Well, then!" The teacher rolled up her sleeves, a wide smile on her face. "Here's your first job as my student aide. Make yourself useful and carry that back to the classroom, will you?"

"Sensei, I haven't even filled out the paper yet, you know."

Laughter rang out from behind her as Nao grumbled and walked back to class, arms heavy with sketchbooks.

. . . . .

"She looks like a dead fish," Nao muttered in exasperation and chucked her paintbrush aside, deciding that she had tried enough for one day. The class should be coming to an end any minute now anyway, a fact made even more apparent by the almost-empty classroom. Yasui-sensei had never been particularly strict with the exact minute her students left, so long as they got sufficient work done and made sure to clean up after themselves.

Nao scrutinized the painting, nose wrinkling at its lack of notable progress. She seemed to be having one of those off-days where everything she attempted to draw came out looking flat or, worse, like a disease of some sort. And she had started off so well too.

"You know, you're going to get wrinkles really early if you keep making faces like that."

Nao's head came up just in time to see Matsuo Reina dumping a clarinet case and a large leather tote in satin gold on the table before planting herself on a stool with a smirk. Nao rolled her eyes at the amused expression on the other girl's face but didn't deign to give a verbal reply. She heard comments like that from Reina practically on a daily basis. Instead, she moved towards the sink to wash the paint off her palette and brushes.

"You're here early," Nao said with a glance back as the familiar chimes rang through the campus to signal the beginning of lunch hour. The few remaining students shuffled out, obviously eager for the break after a long morning of classes.

"There's not all that much to do in Music on the first day," Reina said, shrugging. Then she tilted her head, her thick black hair swaying from the movement, to get a better look at the painting. "You were here all morning, weren't you? I should've known when you didn't show up for the opening ceremony."

Nao shot her an offended look. "I wasn't here all morning." When a corner of Reina's perfectly glossed lips crawled higher, she rolled her eyes again and amended, "Just some parts of the morning."

Her best friend let out a small chuckle. She was probably shaking her head too, Nao guessed as she gathered her remaining supplies and began putting her things away in a crate stored under the table. She had spent so much of her free time here the previous year doing independent work that the art teachers ended up allowing her to keep her own private workspace.

Reina turned back to the painting, her lips pulled down slightly at the edges in a thoughtful frown. "It's only the first day of school and you're already cutting classes. Shouldn't you try to attend classes more often now that you're in high school?"

Nao sighed dramatically in mock remorse. "Yes, you're right of course. We mustn't miss out on all the greatness Eitoku's senior high division has to offer."

She grinned, waiting for Reina to say something along the lines of 'Nao, you do know that every time you sigh like that, you're taking away a minute of your life' but what she got instead was a noncommittal noise that sounded like it could be a laugh, and then, "Oh really? That's good."

Hands stilling, Nao glanced up from her crate on the ground where she still knelt and found Reina smoothing down her shoulder-length hair with one pale, manicured hand while the other flipped through one of Nao's sketchbooks. She paused, instantly wary. If the odd response hadn't told her something was off, this certainly did.

To anyone else, Reina probably gave off the perfect image of someone who was bored, though slightly intrigued by whatever she saw in the sketchbook, but Nao knew better. Reina wasn't the type to ever look casual unless she consciously made the effort to be just so. Besides, smoothing down her hair was something that Reina only did when she was feeling tense or self-conscious.

It was the only warning she received. And then Nao heard him, a minuscule second just before she saw him.

"Excuse me, is-"

The sight of Kurosawa walking towards them met her full on, and her breath went in sharp. He stopped abruptly, the only sign that he had been just as surprised at seeing her.

"What are you doing here?" she bit out before she could stop herself. But this was her territory, and he had another thing coming if he thought he was going to intimidate her here of all places.

"I'm looking for Yasui-sensei," he replied, tone mild like he was commenting on the weather.

She gritted her teeth. "As you can see, she isn't here." Then, unable to resist, Nao added, "Maybe you should try next door?"

Both his eyebrows lifted minutely. "Thank you," he said blandly, with a pause long enough for the gap to be noticeable. "Perhaps I will."

Despite his words, he made no move to leave at all, and Nao narrowed her eyes, half entertaining the idea of demanding outright for him to get out. A rustle of paper derailed her attention, and she noted peripherally, Reina turning a page of the sketchbook, appearing for all intents and purposes like nothing was amiss. The quiet, mundane motion was like a slap to the face, enough to jolt Nao out of her anger, and she immediately clamped her mouth shut.

She turned away, this time resolutely keeping her back to Kurosawa as she finished packing up her things with a calm she didn't feel. What the hell was the matter with her? She was supposed to be good at this - at ignoring people and not giving them the reaction they wanted. Giving no reaction at all was supposed to be second nature by now. It was what she and Reina had long perfected and done on a daily basis after all.

But then he spoke again just as she was moving her painting, and all thoughts of ignoring him abandoned her.

"Is that yours?"

Nao felt her hackles stood on end. She whirled around, but the odd look on his face caught her off guard and whatever she had been about to say ended up lodged in her throat. He wasn't even paying any attention to her. Instead, his eyes focused intently on a point beyond her shoulder.

Her painting.

She stepped forward, deliberately blocking his view, and tilted her chin in challenge. "Yes, it is."

The whole of his attention shifted back to her. Something flashed in his eyes, too fast for her to discern its meaning, but she sensed his surprise all the same when he spoke, "You're the artist."

"Yes, I am," she snapped. "What, disappointed you can't play teacher and give me some stupid lecture about not touching other people's artwork again?"

A myriad of expressions crossed his face, each seemingly warring with each other for control like he couldn't decide how he felt, until finally, he settled on staring at her incredulously. "You thought I was a teacher?"

Nao could hear the laughter in his words, and try as she might, she couldn't keep the flush from creeping up her face. But before she could reply with something suitably scathing, he added, "This morning-" He stopped suddenly and tilted his head, like he had never seen her before. "You don't know who I am."

That yanked her right out of her embarrassment. Goodness mother, he was arrogant. "Oh sure I do, Kurosawa-san," she said snidely, tone heavy with sarcasm. "Watabe-sensei made it obvious enough. Now if your highness will excuse me, I've got lunch to go to."

She spun around and snatched up her bag. Reina passed her the sketchbook wordlessly and stood, tote and clarinet case already in hand as though she had been waiting all along.

"Sure. Enjoy your lunch, Ishida." He had waited until she was just passing him before he spoke.

Nao went stock still, her head reeled up to stare at his in shock.

How did he know her name?

His expression revealed nothing - only dark eyes meeting hers, with eyelashes lowered, promising hidden meaning. A hysterical part of her noted the unexpected flecks of golden brown in eyes that she had previously thought to be black as coal. The hairs on Nao's neck rose with no small amount of deja vu, and she wrenched her gaze away, feet already moving with the need to get as far from him as possible.

She turned and ran smack right into Yasui-sensei at the door.

"Oh, careful there, Nao," the teacher said with a laugh as she reached out to steady them both. Much to Nao's dismay, Yasui-sensei steered her right back into the room. "Isao! What are you doing here again? I told you you didn't have to worry about loading the sculpture."

"It's much too heavy to lift on your own, Yasui-sensei." Kurosawa, to Nao's surprise, looked apologetic. "Besides, it seems I have another meeting later and might not be able to make it today. I'm sorry, Sensei."

Yasui-sensei waved away the apology as her eyes lit up. "Oh, that reminds me. Isao, I got you some help." Then she turned towards her. "Nao?"

She jumped a little at being addressed so suddenly. "Yes?"

"Good thing you're still here. Let me introduce you." The teacher gestured at Kurosawa, and a horrible sinking sensation began to creep up her gut. The last thing she wanted was to be introduced! "This is Kurosawa Isao, the ceramics student aide. Isao, meet Ishida Nao, your new partner. She's more than capable of handling the painting-related duties, but I would like you to familiarize her with the ceramics end of things as well."

Nao froze. What?

She was aware that Kurosawa must've murmured some inane greeting but it was all she could do to stare at Yasui-sensei in what she hoped was well-disguised horror. This really could not be happening.

Besides. Kurosawa, an F4, a student aide. An art student aide. It had to be a joke. Yasui-sensei did often have a questionable sense of humor.

The art teacher went right on talking. "As for the sculpture, I already had Nao help me load it earlier, so you needn't have come here at all." She made a shooing motion with her hands. "Go on and get out of here, eat or do whatever it is that you young people do during lunch. Sometimes I think you must be older than I am with how much you worry!"

"That's only because you're especially youthful, Sensei." Kurosawa said it with a perfectly straight face, but his tone was so obviously indulgent that it roused Nao out of her stupor for a moment only to gape at him.

Yasui-sensei didn't seem to have the same problem understanding him, for she gave him a loud whack on the arm with a dry paintbrush. "Hmph. That's what you get for teasing an old woman."

A corner of Kurosawa's lips kicked up, and Nao frowned. It was unsettling in ways she couldn't pinpoint, this image of him bantering, of all things, with her favorite teacher, of all people.

Then without warning, he shifted his amused gaze in her direction, head inclined in a half-nod of acknowledgement. "Ishida."

She stiffened. "Kurosawa."

"You have my thanks for helping Yasui-sensei load the sculpture then."

Her eyes narrowed a fraction. There was a double meaning hidden there somewhere, Nao was sure of it. "No thanks necessary. As you've said yourself, I was merely helping Yasui-sensei, something I'm always happy to do." The 'No thanks from you and I wasn't helping you!' went without saying.

"Hm. I see."

Don't say it, Nao. This is neither the time nor place for it!

"Though, of course," she added with a slow vindicated smile, and there was no stopping it now, "it did mean I had to touch the sculpture. In fact, with how heavy it turned out to be, I had no choice but to wrap my arms all over it."

Kurosawa's lips twitched, though she wasn't sure whether it was from amusement or irritation. She hoped it was the latter. "Ah, I have to admit I'm a little surprised, Ishida. You have such a mean throwing arm, I didn't expect the sculpture to give you any trouble at all after that impressive show of strength earlier."

Heat shot up her face at the blatant reference to her gum wrapper throwing blunder during English class, and it took all of her self-control to not react. Not that it mattered when her face felt and probably looked like it was about to burst into flames.

The art teacher looked between the two, an eyebrow raised in obvious bemusement, but thankfully didn't ask.

Nao really didn't hang around much longer to find out.

. . . . .

It was some time after she and Reina had turned down a hallway leading towards the student lockers that Reina finally looked at her curiously. It was the first indication that she had indeed been watching everything that happened back in the art room rather closely. Honestly, Nao would have been more surprised if she hadn't.

If there was one talent Reina had, it was the ability to observe her surroundings without giving anything away - well, to someone who didn't know where to look anyway. No one faked casual nonchalance better than Reina did. And for someone whose looks, in Nao's opinion, were rather striking, she had this uncanny way of making people forget she was there at all.

Her soft voice was laced with humor when Reina spoke, "Do I even want to know what that was all about?" Laughter tinkered in the air, and her shoulders quivered with it. "Or perhaps I should ask how you thought Kurosawa Isao was a teacher? I don't think I've ever seen you so... agitated."

Nao scowled but ignored the jibe. She'd tell Reina about her spectacular morning eventually, but she really didn't want to relive it right then. "Of course you would know who he is."

"You would know, too, if you had gone to the opening ceremony this morning instead of staying cooped up with your paintings. He gave a pretty remarkable speech, and even you wouldn't be able to miss that."

"Yeah, yeah, spare me the F4 spiel," she muttered, not fooled in the least. She'd bet all her paintbrushes Reina had known long before any such ceremony.

Reina was by far the least social person Nao had ever met, and yet she seemed to always have detailed information on the most random people. She often wondered if the girl actually made an effort to find out all those obscure information, or if she was just exceptionally observant.

"Nao," Reina shook her head slowly, a corner of her lips quirking, and Nao had the impression that Reina couldn't decide whether to be amused or exasperated. "He's not just an F4. He's the leader of F4, the Student Council President, and the Student Body Representative. You're probably the only person in this entire school who doesn't know who he is."

- to be continued -

Word Count: 4,507

Just to be clear, Isao will not be one of those insane perfect-at-everything-without-trying male manga character. I promise the whole leader, president, rep thing isn't just there for kicks.

Reviews appreciated, please and thank you, if you have time. I'm mojo-gathering in preparation for NaNoWriMo (yes, I'll be working on this fic), and I'd be super grateful for some feedback, positive or negative. My inner editor (who's more like my inner demon) has been unrelenting in bullying me this entire year, but I'm hoping NaNo will force-kick me into spewing some readable (50,000) words. :p

Thanks for reading (and for reviewing and for being generally awesome)! And thanks Fled, tsukushi87, and rah - I wasn't able to reply to your reviews personally due to the anonymity (and a disabled PM for Fled), so I'm shouting out there. :)