Author's Note: thought it'd be fun to listen to this during this chapter. For the first part, Yuki Kajiura's "Everyday Life". watch?v=cCBTgN9pO-s. For the second part, Yuki Kajiura's "Vanity". watch?v=C-PhDVemv6s

Chapter 1

Vanity

Riki watched the clock.

The teacher had just finished directions for the worksheet and called random names at a time. When he paired Riki with the new international student, Riki suppressed a groan.

Her new partner looked at her with hazel eyes. "What?" she asked knowingly.

"Nothing!" said Riki.

Her partner smiled equally—what was her name?—and leafed through her notebook. Meanwhile, Riki pulled out her cellphone, hiding it under her pile of folders on her desk. From his angle at the front of the classroom, Professor Tokiha wouldn't see her texting.

When Riki saw her partner's notes, she stole a glance: they were in French, with some attempts in Japanese.

"What's your name again?" asked Riki.

"Audriane Dupont," said her partner.

No wonder Riki couldn't remember her name—was Audriane a French name? Was it even an actual name?

Riki nodded blankly, putting away her phone. What a relief to not have to switch from the comfort of her own language to English or French. She jogged down answers on their worksheet, not wanting to waste time explaining a complicated equation to a foreign student.

"Hey," began Audriane, watching Riki. "We do together. I learn Japanese and chemistry at the same time."

"I'm helping you," said Riki—in a thorny tone that earned her a glare.

"Slow down, we a team!"

Riki stopped immediately, raised her hands defensively. She restrained a frown, eyes bulging. Audriane stared her earnestly in the eyes, then traced the words on the worksheet with a finger, reading aloud for Riki to follow along.

….

Gun parallel to her face, the assassin crept along school grounds. She disappeared behind a tree, crouching low into the crotch of its thick roots. Her eyes swept the perimeter for any slight movement.

"Go," ordered the head Knight, with a wave of his hand.

His men in suits trotted through the wooded backyard of the school. They snuck behind trees, behind walls, trashcans and benches in the baseball field, under windows, on top of a long row of rooftops that split from the main building—architecture boasting geometric shapes that overlapped each other, like pieces fitting together in a jigsaw puzzle. Other Knights casually walked into bathrooms to hide in the stalls, awaiting orders.

The assassin glided behind a row of outside lockers. She squatted behind the prickly flat-headed bushes lining the walls of the school.

The head Knight touched his earpiece: "Bring in the hellfire."

The assassin took out a pocket mirror and lifted it to the window above her.

It reflected who was inside the front office.

One of their snipers on top of the school said, "Target found."

…..

For the next ten minutes, Audriane struggled with Japanese here and there. On some words, Riki was patient, explaining, or correcting in Japanese. Near the end, however, she wanted to speed things up, and from then on, often wrote the answers down without explaining in Japanese how she got them. She was eager to text again.

"Please help," said Audriane as calmly as she could, pointing the eraser of her pencil at a specific problem.

Riki was already throwing her sweater over her pile of notebooks. She faked to write with one hand, her other hand under her sweater as she texted. Professor Tokiha merely circled the room, checking on pairs. He smiled at Riki and Audriane with only a flitting glance at their paperwork, and moved on.

Such a nice man; Riki frowned; a man that should have been more stringent, for it butchered his credibility. It made her frustrated toward his efforts as a teacher, but sorry for him as well . . .

And yet she couldn't resist the gossip she was texting Asuke—about Sakuya and Ojiru breaking up. About if this was her chance to pounce, see if her slightly blossoming feelings for Ojiru would confirm that they weren't just "friends". That she just wasn't "crushing" or "infatuated" by him.

"Riki!" snapped Audriane, stabbing her paper with a finger. "Help!"

"Hold on," said Riki, texting furiously. From the principal's office, Ojiru just texted her about a "hot woman" here for the interview as the new receptionist. Stupid Ojiru. This was the same guy who leered at other women after a just-breakup. Riki should be mortified, but she liked him. That pulse of jealousy she felt whenever he was with Sakuya . . .

Next to Riki, Audriane waited, but not for long. She finally snatched Riki's phone, threatening a glance at the teacher whose back was turned. Riki gasped, glaring at her.

Ok, that was too much.

"Give it back, Dupont!" hissed Riki, reaching for it.

Audriane stood up so abruptly to dodge, that her chair toppled backwards. Professor Tokiha turned around.

…..

All Riki wanted to do was throw her phone right at her lab partner's head—when she'd get it back from Mr. Tokiha.

As she trudged to detention, she smacked the wall with her hand. Then anger took over reason and she slapped the wall so hard it stung, and shook her hands and hissed.

Sure, she should have helped more, but at least she had helped at all. It was just a few texts! Audriane's impatience was reasonable—but to rat Riki out like that? It was like breaking the law: who rats their fellow classmates texting? Every teenager knew that.

Riki passed classrooms; they echoed with muffled laughter and lectures. She approached a hallway intersection of white brick walls, with triangular tiles shining caution from just being mopped by the janitor.

The detention room was in the back of the principal's office, just down the hallway. Riki stopped and leaned against the wall to kill time, felt the detention slip in her pockets. But something was missing. She desperately searched her red hoodie.

"Nooo, my iPod—where is it?" she whispered.

She whined to herself, slowly walking the other way toward the cafeteria. Maybe she dropped her iPod back there on her way to detention. She also hoped one of her friends would have Lunch Period B, just to kill time.

Enter the scenery of love, lovers are in pain, they blame and pick on each other.

When she stepped into the cafeteria, she looked across to the clock high up on the wall above the lunch line. It's been five minutes; Mr. Tokiha would contact the office to make sure she was actually there . . .

Masami wasn't in Lunch Period B. Riki didn't see any other of her closest friends, either. Now she really wished she had her iPod; she could have sat in the food court outside and killed time with her music. Besides, she couldn't get that one song out of her head.

The melody rippled through her mind, almost tangible strings and piano, leaving heavy prints in her brain.

You played melodies of love . . . forgotten phrases, tender and sweet . . .

The assassin snuck into the school and hid in a locker.

Come a little bit closer, don't stay in the shadows, my boy.

"Show 'em hell, boys," said the head Knight. He signaled.

The melody's fading . . . Now or never, love will go—

Footsteps.

I'll be there, by your side; share your fears in silent redemption.

Riki heard someone walking by, hoping it wasn't Mr. Tokiha. She leaned casually against the wall to keep from looking jittery or suspicious.

Someone stepped around the corner that was back-to-back to her wall. Black boots slapped the tile floor, buckles strapped the ankles, clinking beautifully. Riki's eyes flickered up bare legs to a black skirt. A long greenish-brown jacket swung over a red turtleneck sweater. The newcomer had almost walked by Riki without noticing her but stopped and turned her head.

"Oh. Hey, Riki."

Touch my lips, hold me tight . . .

"Sakuya," said Riki, smiling neutrally.

Live in vanity, for a while . . .

Riki had a bit of ego. She sometimes saw herself quite popular and pretty, so when she first met Sakuya she she actually didn't like her. Simply put, the sophomore was competition. But after meeting her when she dated Ojiru, Riki didn't find the sophomore too horrible. She had doubted Sakuya paid her much attention, too. In a way, in her mind, that put them on common ground.

"Oh, right! Perfect timing running into you," said Sakuya. "I think this is yours."

The brunette fished something from her pocket, the wavy curls from her bushy mane bouncing just above her shoulders. She handed over an iPod. Its sushi ear buds coiled around colorful bubbles and specks.

"Oh thank god!" said Riki. "Where'd you find it?"

She took it, as Sakuya pointed over her shoulders. "Right here actually, on my way to lunch, on the floor. Akane was this close to declaring 'finders, keepers'."

Sakuya paused, smiling, as if expecting appraisal. That freckled, flawless, creamy skin. Those unnaturally bright-blue eyes. How lucky she was to be a "mix": her Japanese father running for mayor who had flown her over here to Tokyo from her American mother in Washington. A transfer student who's been here a year longer than Audriane.

"By the way," added Sakuya, "it was in the middle of playing a song. I didn't know you liked Anime." Grin.

"You listened?" said Riki, eyes bulging.

Sakuya shrugged, smiling meekly. "I was curious."

Riki's face felt hot. Even though Anime was part of Japan's culture, her friends didn't care for it, so she tried not to. This side of her personality was a secret. To the grave.

"Music is music, right?" said Sakuya, shrugging. "Doesn't matter if it's sad, happy, classic, video game, or Anime—oh, um, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude—you're ok with that, right . . .?"

Riki was not. And yet, Sakuya's eyes burned right into her; Riki felt belittled in front of them. When they first met, Riki thought nothing of the girl. They barely talked at mixers or in the presence of Ojiru. But when they did, the atmosphere was casual. Ever since, those eyes always left an impression on Riki: poisonous. No. Addicting. Like blue fire, tingling her face—so hot, like the sun, she'd go blind and melt if she looked too long, too deep.

Just looking at godliness was too much; Riki was beginning to understand why Ojiru dated her. So why did he break up with her?

"I know what you're thinking," said Sakuya, feigning a smile. "How horrible of me for breaking up with one of your friends. And why."

Riki made a face, not knowing what to say. "Uh, I heard it was pretty mutual, though, so . . .? I mean, what about you? You ok?"

Sakuya shrugged, smiling thinly. "I mean, I did care about him—I hope he's ok. Funny, you should be asking him that . . ."

Riki opened her mouth but said nothing.

"But yeah," said Sakuya, "I'm fine. Thank you."

More awkward silence.

"So . . . why?" asked Riki. "Why'd you break up?" Although she was glad they did, she still didn't like the idea of someone hurting Ojiru—even though the asshole was checking out the school's new receptionist. People had their ways of coping or moving on.

Sakuya laughed dryly, with a huge shrug. "Look, if you wanna know everything, wanna hang at the mall sometime?" She lightly tapped Riki's arm. "I could use a friend after a breakup. And I mean a new friend, a fresh outsider from the whole relationship drama that so-called 'friends' vulture over. Someone to tell me that it's ok to be single."

Riki chuckled, hands on her hips as she looked around uncertainly. "Sure."

"No pressure. Whenever you have the time." With that, Sakuya walked back into the cafeteria where her friends waved her down back to their table. Riki glanced after her, cut short when Sakuya looked back over her shoulders. Everyone at the table followed her glance. Riki recognized Akko and Kenji. Barely knew Hiroshi and Chikane. Didn't know who those other two were . . .

In that glimmer of a second, their eyes met. Sakuya smiled and waved awkwardly. In the same attempt, Riki shot her hand up and down. When she turned around and hurried back toward the principal's office, she suddenly liked the idea of something new to look forward to at school that wasn't a boy: a new friend.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I drew some of our characters. Find me on deviantart as "duskricorn"!

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