Story Title: In the Eyes of Angels
Disclaimer: I don't own Yuu Yuu Hakusho.
Author's Notes: There's this anime-influenced, French short animation containing a homosexual romance that since I first viewed it, I've never really been able to forget. The animation (by Pascal-Alex Vincent) is called Candy Boy (Not to be confused with the yuri anime with the same name) and this story is inspired by it and in fact was its original muse. Classical music also heavily influences this story. I do hope readers enjoy this story and I thank everybody for giving it a shot.
This story is an AU and all characters are human. I realize that Jaganshi is a title, but for this fic, it's a surname. And I also realize since Kurama is fully human that his name should be his human one, but hey, that's another minor AU change I'm making. There will be differences in Hiei and Kurama's characters due to their demonic natures being removed and altered, but I hope to keep their characters as intact as possible. I am not a proponent of the seme/uke stereotypes.
Special thanks to Payne N. Uranus for being my eyes (and sometimes my brain) and for getting the first (and second) chapter back on track in its developing stages. Without her help, I probably would have never completed the first chapter and scraped the idea altogether, so thank you, Payne.
3/9/13: Edited to break up massive paragraphs, typos, and whatever I saw fit to correct. The errors with the jumping viewpoint characters remains unchanged where I couldn't remove or rewrite however. Some early installment weirdness remains as well.
5/17/17: Thanks go out to Sami Delirium for beta-reading and catching the mistakes I have missed or didn't realize were mistakes. These chapters are in the process of being re-edited but no new content will be added to these earlier chapters.
-o-
Chapter One: The Hand-Me-Down Boy
-o-
Already Hiei's new life was odd.
But he wasn't aware of that yet, asleep in the reclined passenger seat with his small frame pulled close for warmth. He knew a slight bit, like where he was going and why, but before he drifted off to sleep, he still sensed the director of the orphanage was keeping certain details from him. Hiei did not like to be kept in the dark and he certainly did not like being manipulated. He had the suspicions that both situations were occurring…
But, alas, careful measures to wake Hiei up at an ungodly early hour to ensure that he would sleep for the entire car ride protected the director from any sharp inquisition Hiei may have prepared.
The director of the orphanage, a thin Japanese woman with a haggard appearance caused solely by the stresses of her position, glanced at him quickly out of the corner of her thin silver-framed glasses before shifting her tired russet eyes back onto the road. Until recently, she had nearly cracked from the struggle to save her orphanage, but thanks to the grace of God and the philanthropic donations of Enma Daioh, she was able to keep the orphanage open and build additional rooms to allow more children to live under her protection.
The director's life was dedicated toward helping and finding abandoned or neglected children a loving family of their own, and she enjoyed her job, even with all the other stresses that came along with the good. For many of the children, her orphanage would be the first place they would call home. Really, they were all good kids.
…Except for one.
For all her years with the orphanage and working with children, the director had never met a child as trying as Hiei. There was no shock that he chose to sleep with his back toward her. The boy had spent all his life turning away from her, usually to face a corner in her office. Her painted bow lips slid into a subtle smile as she reminisced somewhat fondly through his time at the orphanage, those fifteen years some staff members referred to as his reign of terror.
Sure, the orphanage director had spent most of those years reprimanding him in her office, or apologizing to prospective parents for his sharp mouth and even sharper teeth, or compensating monetarily for his damages on a regular basis, but not every moment with him had been bad, though not all were necessarily good either.
The director faced Hiei again. His chest softly rose and fell in waves as he carried on peaceably in his dreams, whatever they may have been. The director sighed. Here she was in her late forties, her dark hair graying prematurely from stress, and on her way of getting rid of one source of said strain, yet the director couldn't feel the slightest tinge of relief. Just more worry. Her thoughts raced from one raised question to another:
Am I doing the right thing for him? Is he going to be okay? Is the school going to be okay? Will he behave? Fight constantly? Or immediately run away?
Oh God, what if he gets sent back?
The director knew it was horrible that at the thought of him returning to her orphanage, she shuddered with dread. Now she regretted it, but the reaction wasn't without a grain of reason. She knew Hiei. She knew, politely speaking, how difficult he could be. She knew his tricks, his lies in his truths, his truths in his lies, and had learned to recognize them all quickly. One thing the boy wasn't was stupid and the entire school had better figure him out quickly, or otherwise, he'd tear them apart.
The director turned off the main road and followed the sign onto a narrow, one-lane path leading straight into the woods. Was there really a school up here? Her orphanage was a little far back from the city in its own right but not this rural. Not the visibility of wild animals outnumbered the ratio of humans kind of rural. The nearest city was an hour or more away, which meant that everything—like a hospital—was at least an hour away.
Figuring this time was no better than any other, the director prayed. Please God, grant me the assurance that what I am doing is right for this boy, the courage to see this through, and the trust that You will guide and watch over him once I can no longer. Give him temperance through any and all adversities he may face. Give him the capacity to receive and return compassion to and from others. Show him the possibility of a life without hurt and suffering. Let there be someone he can rely upon, even if that sole person is You. He has always forsaken You, but please do not abandon him. Give him what few others have. Give him a chance. These are my prayers I offer unto You, the Almighty God and His Most Blessed Son. Amen.
For an instant the director's mind was calm and clear and she breathed her first true sigh of relief today. She had never been a religious woman, a trait passed down from her family of lapsed Christians and so the director wasn't certain the Lord would be receptive of her wishes, but she was willing to try anything for Hiei, anything to give him at least a fighting shot against this world that had mostly been cruel to him.
Passing a road sign indicating they would reach the school's gates in less than eight miles, the director called Hiei to wake up. He gave no response, which didn't surprise her. He was faking, of course, just to be contrary. In that case, all the director had to be was a little more forceful…
"Hey! Wake up!" she barked and pinched the back of his neck, jarring Hiei awake. He growled and sent a hateful scowl over his shoulder. The director smiled and said sweetly, "Good morning to you too. We're almost there. Better get your wits about you before we arrive."
Hiei huffed as he turned around in his seat and raised the tilted backing into a straight position. He sat staring forward in a partly groggy, night-of-the-living-dead state. His lidded eyes were crusted a bit with sleep, at least until he brushed the sleep away the next instant. Having his eyes clear, however, did not make him any more awake.
"You can have the rest of my coffee. It's probably cold, though," the director did not look away from the road as she spoke.
He took no more than a second to look at the 16 oz. foam cup before sneering at the director. "You really expect me to drink your backwash? That's disgusting."
"I knew that's what you'd say, but I thought I'd offer nonetheless," she said smiling while turning off onto a road and flattening the gas pedal to charge up the steep incline.
Out of the forest, her car zipped up the hill to its flat top, revealing a verdant landscape of short highlands enclosed in the distance by yet more woodlands. It was positively lovely scenery, and with the way the trees seemed to embrace the hills, it felt secure. Plus there was the added bonus of being so out of the way that unless someone knew of its existence, the director knew Hiei was going to be safe here.
As the school's surrounding red brick walls grew closer, the director attempted to engage him in non-bitter conversation one last time. "Serene, isn't it? I bet there's no other school like this in Japan surrounded by such beauty."
"It's sticks and grass, get over it," Hiei grumbled not so underneath his breath.
The director merely laughed quietly.
-o-
A young nun in full habit, waiting in front of the school's wrought iron gate, smiled at Hiei and not in a patronizing manner but genuinely happy to see him as the director's car slid to a stop before the gate. Hiei guessed this was it between him and the director and placed his hand on the door handle.
"Hiei, wait, " the director said.
Hiei paused, still holding onto the door handle, as his whole body tensed. He murmured a curse under his breath and turned to her. The director was pouting her bottom lip and gripping the steering wheel tightly, as if waiting to release her held breath. Whatever she wanted to say to him (Hiei couldn't really imagine what else she had to gripe about, having nitpicked him clean all week), it wasn't easy for her to begin.
After two breath-lengths of silence, the director finally spoke, "I know… I know we've had our ups and downs but I want you to know that I don't hate you. Never did. And trust me, there were some times I wanted to…"
The young nun came over but the director gestured to her to give them a little time. The sister appeared to understand the director's vague hand signals and stepped away.
Surfacing stress wrinkled the director's attempt at a gentle, soft expression, so she ended up looking more fragile than tender to Hiei. "It's unfair what fate has done to you so far and you don't realize how glad I am that you finally have an opportunity to leave all that."
The director reached over as if to stroke Hiei's hair, but Hiei drew away in time. The director frowned but understood.
"You never were the same," the director said softly. "Not since you returned from…"
The director realized her thoughts had slipped off and that her expression had become slack and doleful. She refocused herself, but nonetheless, her face still retained a doleful quality to it. "Please, for the love of Jesus, Mary, Joseph, the whole cast and crew, behave yourself. Y'know, do the opposite of what you normally do. Act good if you need to. Just don't screw this up."
Hiei, frowning, looked away from her but her words were sinking in. How ever much it riled him to agree with her, the director was right. This was too important to his future to fight, and as much as it went against every cell in his body, Hiei was going to have to bow a little to the school's authority.
The director laid her hand on Hiei's stiffened shoulder, which he didn't tolerate for long and shoved her hand away. The director smiled, the sort of breakable smile Hiei knew was a failed front to keep him from noticing that her bottom lip was mildly quivering. "Don't take this to heart, but I don't ever want to see you again. Not like this. In another fifteen years, yes. If you find the time."
Hiei nodded. It seemed like the right thing to do in the moment. Wasn't like he was making a formal promise to her, was he? Maybe he would visit and then again perhaps never. By the sound of it, the director didn't seem to expect him to and, knowing the director, she wouldn't. But, Hiei reluctantly admitted, there was a slight sadness in her voice and smile telling him she really would like to see him at least once more as an adult. It didn't seem to make sense to him that she would ever want his presence in her life again. After all their bickering, their near-physical fights, the intentional aggravation and disobedience he inflicted, after everything…she didn't hate him.
She thinks this'll make me cry, he told himself as he once again turned away and grabbed the door handle. She's been gunning for tears ever since Child Protective Services sent me back to the orphanage, but I don't cry.
"Wait a sec. Look at me," the director ordered, swiftly back to her comfort zone of being the authoritarian so it seemed. She licked the flat of her thumb and quickly pressed it against Hiei's cheek before he could twist away. "I swear, we only walked straight to the car and you still got dirty. There. That'll have to do, I suppose. You can go."
Hiei, donated suitcases in hand, exited the car and stood beside the sister. Her warm welcome received a tepid response from him. Nothing personal but her voice was too pure, too sickly sweet for this early hour.
"He's your problem now," the director shouted. She pulled the passenger door shut and drove off, turning around in the loop in front of the gates, and zipped back down the long, winding scenic road.
At this point, Hiei hadn't witnessed anything more wonderful than that. Her last words were only a joke. The director promised that through all the verbal punches they had ever taken at each other she would have the last. Hiei paused in mid-consideration. Well, part of it was only kidding, but he was certain the sister hadn't caught onto it.
"Oh dear…I, umm," the nun, not expecting anything like this to happen, stammered with surprise.
Sympathy mixed with sadness poured from her earthy-green eyes as she laid a hand comfortingly on his shoulder. Hiei immediately drew away, his confused glare ordering her to never touch him again. She pitied him, or so he supposed. The soft-hearts always do. The sister seemed hurt by his clear rejection, but she accepted it and glazed her expression with more pity for him.
Through the silence of the still April morning air, the sound of the director's car driving away lingered for several blocks before blending into the quietness of the early day. The security guard drew the iron doors together and locked the gates. Hiei's gaze ran up and along the twisted iron bars as if they were the teeth to an unnamed monster the world had yet to discover or simply had yet to survive. But the mothering shrew was out of Hiei's life for good, and this place was a far cry from becoming the orphanage.
Sister Midori gave him an impromptu tour of the grounds by pointing and explaining various buildings as they came to pass. She was a thin woman, probably in her late twenties or so Hiei estimated, with a heart-shaped face, clear apple blossom skin, and loose straight black hair. Her innocent eyes were as green as the lush forests enclosing the school grounds and as gentle as the cherry blossom trees in full splendor lining the campus's walkways. With the way she spoke, her mellifluous voice so inviting and melodic, it wouldn't have shocked Hiei if she randomly broke out into song any instant. 'Course if she did, Hiei was going to have to punch her in the windpipe.
Carillon chimes rang. Midori explained it was the 7:20 morning bell, indicating first period had just began. She added that unlike many other schools, they followed a slightly longer and slightly earlier schedule for academics. That wasn't a problem for Hiei. He was usually up before dawn anyway.
Hiei said nothing and slipped in and out of attention during Midori's tour, having heard it all before from the orphanage staff and recalling most of her words as the same rhetoric from the Academy's pamphlets.
"We are one of the oldest Catholic boarding schools in all of Japan. We were founded early on during one of the Church's early missionary crusades…" Midori rattled on, unaware that Hiei absolutely couldn't care less about the Academy's history.
The air smelled of atmosphere as if after a light rain and the manicured lawns hung heavy with dew as Hiei and Midori walked along the white concrete paths around the school campus. The administrative offices were red brick structures with white trim and dark roofs built in imitation of European old-world colonial structures.
None of this seemed real. They were in Japan, Midori was and spoke Japanese, the names of the individual buildings were written in kanji, but nothing else spoke of the country he lived in just less than half an hour ago. And with the walls and gates, it really seemed like another world here. But perhaps Hiei was getting ahead of himself. The school buildings were as modern-built as any Japanese high school. Midori added with glee that they were readily supplied and staffed as well as if not better than the typical high school.
The largest and oldest building on the grounds was the cathedral. Large and imposing, the wonder of Gothic architecture struck Hiei's eyes and held them in awe. His gaze rose higher and higher along the cathedral, its twin spire-tipped steeples jutting into the sky. Carved into the walls in rows upon rows were niches and standing inside of each niche was a single angel statuette. There were hundreds of these miniature-proportioned angels up and along the facade alone. Having never been one to be enamored with the Church's teachings, Hiei considered stepping inside the cathedral if only to further absorb and marvel its construction.
Before the church was a large, magnificent stone statue of an armored angel. Its wings were grand in all sense of the word and arched from its shoulder blades into a circle reaching above its head. In its right hand, the angel raised a stone sword high into the blue-gray dawn in an act of triumph, for what reason Hiei could not decide upon. In its left hand, a set of scales were closely tucked beside its strong, youthful body, their purpose another mystery to Hiei.
To its sculptor, it was an act of pride to be a part of the angel's creation; Hiei knew by the extreme minute detail its creator embellished the angel. There were many months, too many with nights of little sleep sacrificed to the angel, all just to carve every line into the wings' feathers and down, to sand the breastplate smooth, or to capture the tip of its blade at the perfect angle until its maker's obsession was assuaged and the angel was as lifelike as feasibly possible.
Though it garnered Hiei's awe and admiration, it also earned his apprehension. Its wings, yes, were beautiful. Its convincingly realistic form, yes, was splendorous and a testament to the fine arts. But its eyes… Its eyes were nothing more than smooth ovoid shapes without expression, warmth, or life. It stared at him with a face of intense concentration, as if the angel was waiting for Hiei to offer something, anything, to prove his merit to the angel before it deemed whether or not to draw his sword against him. Unable to bear another moment in contact, Hiei shrank into his oversized shirt and lowered his head below the angel's icy gaze.
"Oh, you're interested in this statue. Do you know who this is?" Midori took his silence to mean no. "This is a statue of Saint Michael the Archangel crafted by one of our alumni. It was placed before our cathedral for protection. You see, Saint Michael is the guardian of the Church. He is the Prince of Light who will lead God's forces of Good against Evil at Armageddon. He is here so that no evil will ever enter our cathedral. And I dare say we'll all be safe as long as Saint Michael is here protecting us."
It's a statue. It can't do squat for anyone, Hiei wanted to say aloud but he figured that would have been too much for Midori to handle. That and the Archangel was throwing him scorching looks, so Hiei considered it was better to back off.
When Hiei did not comment, Midori asked him if he wished to move along.
Gladly he stepped away. It was clear that what the statue's face beheld was kindness and love in Midori's eyes and obviously wasn't the same as the contempt, among other things, for which Hiei felt the statue held for him.
-o-
Finally arriving at the dormitories, Sister Midori showed Hiei to his room. Despite the magnificence of the school, the rooms were homely. Not much different from the orphanage, Hiei mentally remarked. Chips of white wall plaster powdered the edges of the unpolished wooden floor. Sunlight glared mirror-bright through the broad window directly into his room and eyes. Pushed against the narrow wooden windowsill were two metal-framed cots separated by a single plain desk and an uncomfortable-looking chair. Space was limited. There was enough room for him to walk comfortably around, but Hiei imagined the space issue with two people was a fistfight waiting to happen. Setting his two suitcases on a cot, Hiei drew the thick cloth curtains closed and faced Sister Midori.
"Tomorrow, you'll start classes. Today, you can just walk around and familiarize yourself. If you find adjusting difficult, don't hesitate to come to one of our counselors or my office. It's the third one on the left as you first come into the music hall. And the church is always open." Sister Midori checked her wristwatch. "Well, I have to teach a class soon, so here is where I'm afraid we must part. Welcome to Sacred Heart Academy. It has been a pleasure spending the morning with you. Have a wonderful day and may God bless you."
Sister Midori was gone before she could see his eyes roll full circle. God bless you, like hell. Hiei figured God wanted to get a few giggles out at his expense and sent him here to a Catholic boarding school of all places. Hiei groaned, already imagining the daily headache of avoiding the conversion crusaders roaming the halls. He sat down, the bedsprings creaking and straining despite his light weight, and saw the distant forest and the spires of the cathedral in the slit between the curtains. Then, the cloud moved and the blinding sun returned. In truth, Hiei had nothing against Catholicism. He despised the concept of religion.
What now? The director had woken him up at four a.m. for their little road trip that he had slept through most of the way, so he wasn't sleepy. He hadn't been allowed to take anything to read, so that was out. He guessed he could watch the plaster flake off. Ironically, all he wanted at the orphanage was space and quiet to think. Now that he had it, Hiei was bored out of his gourd.
His school uniform and identification card were laying on top of the desk. Underneath his uniform was a folder. Hiei thumbed through the papers. Along with the rules and regulations, his room key, and a map of the school grounds, there was also his class schedule. He pulled it out and set it aside. The rest he skimmed through.
Figuring his donated dirty black jeans and one-size too big T-shirt were unsuitable attire, Hiei changed into his uniform. Reluctantly, that is. The navy blue and yellow tartan pants were the ugliest he had ever seen, and he didn't know how to put on a tie but even if he did, he wasn't about to wear one.
White dress shirt buttoned, Hiei folded up his class schedule and put it and the key in his pocket. If it was Hiei's choice, he'd wear the clothes he had on but it was the school's rules and Hiei was forced to obey them, no matter how stupid. At least for now. He was certain there was a way around, if not completely out of, wearing a uniform.
On his way downstairs, Hiei stepped into the bathroom and washed the gel out of his hair. The orphanage staff, in an attempt to make him more presentable, had managed to hold him down long enough for the director to comb out, neatly part, and slick his hair into a humiliating lacquered black bowl. Rising from underneath the running faucet, he blindly grabbed paper towels out of the dispenser and dried his hair as best as possible. Finished, Hiei looked at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was still damp and not as spiky as usual, and water was dripping on his shirt—at least he sort of looked like himself, albeit in preppy clothes. Hiei left the bathroom and, with a few light taps down the stairwell, exited the dorm.
-o-
Saint Michael's statue or no, Hiei was going into the cathedral. Hiei expected the interior architecture to be as impressive as the facade, but he wouldn't know unless he stepped inside. In a minute, that is... He stood in front of the statue and switched his view between the archangel's stoic face and the few short steps to the cathedral doors. This was idiotic. He was being idiotic. No matter how threatening its eyes were, it was still an immobile chunk of rock. But if it was going to glare at him, Hiei was going to glare back. Matching hate for hate, he held his eyes with the statue as he stepped around it. Its sight followed him, but Hiei slowly made his way past the so-called guardian. At the cathedral doors, Hiei looked back and smirked.
I guess I'm not evil enough, he thought and stepped inside.
The church's interior was just as interesting to Hiei as the exterior. His feet inched down the center aisle, the air smelling faintly of smoke and incense. His steps echoed in the vast, empty space and disturbed the still silence. He passed rows of thick black oak pews and stared up first at the lofty, pointed arch ceiling and then the eight stained glass windows, four on each side. He instantly caught onto the theme of the windows. Each mosaic depicted an angel. Two were fairly simple pieces—a bowed praying angel and the other, an angel carrying a harp. But for the rest, the designs and significance were highly complex and more assorted in subject, which was enthralling to Hiei's eyes.
He was familiar with the image of Madonna enthroned by angels from the few lessons the director gave him in Christianity as a child. But neither she was a willing teacher nor he a willing student, so it never stuck with him. Those lessons only formed the foundation to his hatred of all faiths. The walls would be raised much later in life...
Unfortunately, it became apparent that all the lesser angels were depicted with the same face, so Hiei's interest began to waver. The next window that caught his attention was stained nearly all in shades of black and white, the only exceptions being the angel and the prisoner's robes, red and dove gray respectively, and the flesh of the prisoner. Hiei finally recognized the old man in the glass as St. Peter, so this must have been a stained glass version of the painting St. Peter Freed By An Angel, another factoid procured from the director's lessons. There were also glass representations of two angels holding up another unfamiliar saint, seven angels attending God's throne, an angel guiding a young boy down a pastoral road, and finally one of Saint Michael trampling a devil figure.
Hiei walked up the two steps to the marble altar. It seemed rather morbid and inappropriate that surrounded by all the amazing architecture and appealing stained glass that the focal point of the altar would be a giant ostentatious golden cross complete with a crucified Savior. Hiei knew Jesus was the Church's hero and all, but of all the better things to look at in here, why did they choose to put the dead guy front and center? Beliefs aside, this was an image of a corpse. Hiei, lightly shaking his head from side to side in displeasure, wasn't about to understand the thought behind this and he was fine keeping it that way.
At least there was the rose window to look at just above the cross. Within the circular stained glass was a myriad of kaleidoscopic shards. The synergy of the mosaic pieces overwhelmed his senses. Hiei's eyes failed to and quit trying to discern the multitude of individual shades and hues and instead appreciated the sparkling varicolored flower and its tracery as a whole.
"Well, you're an unfamiliar face," a man's voice said. Hiei had been gazing at the rose window so intently he hadn't noticed the priest enter the room.
The priest stepped up to the altar and stood to the right of Hiei. Hiei assumed there must have been a door from around that corner the priest had stood in, being that there were no other visible entrances on that side. The priest was a middle-aged Japanese man with short sandy blonde hair and a stout but not squat body.
"You must be our new student." The priest smiled at Hiei. His smile was warm enough and Hiei could tell by the look of his eyes, he was a kind but stern man. "Hiei Jaganshi, if I am correct?"
Hiei merely nodded yes.
"I was hoping I'd run into you. I know you haven't had much time, but how are you doing? I'm afraid with everyone mostly in class, there won't be many students around for a while, but do enjoy your day. Trust me. You'll learn to appreciate moments of quiet like this." The priest laughed, a brief deep chuckle in his throat.
Hiei put his hands in his pockets and angled his body to the side. If he could, he would have liked to distance himself further, but the priest wasn't approaching him any closer. Any further attempt at separation would have been too obvious to the priest, so Hiei stayed where he was.
"Oh, pardon me. It appears that I haven't properly introduced myself. I am Father Takenaka and I am the active priest at this church. I am also the headmaster of this fine institution." He held out his hand and Hiei briefly clasped it. After Hiei abruptly dropped the priest's hand, Takenaka laughed. "Gruff, aloof, and obstinate…you're everything the orphanage said you would be."
Hiei raised an inquisitive eyebrow but Father Takenaka provided the answer for him before he could ask.
"Yes, I know quite a lot about you. Some things you might not be comfortable with me knowing."
Hiei bunched his pocketed hands into fists and scowled. Immediately, he capped his thoughts before any memories could resurface. Just because he knew what Takenaka was referring did not mean Hiei had to punish himself by reliving it.
"I asked the director and her assistants to be frank with me and they were. They told me what kind of person you are, and your history. They were so honest that one assistant told me I could turn you down and take the child with the second-best scores instead. They assured me it would be a safer bet."
Of course, the orphanage staff would say something like that. The director excluded, the staff at the orphanage liked to take personal shots at him behind his back every second they had. They were probably partying right now that Hiei was gone. Hell, they were dancing as soon it had been announced that Hiei had been accepted by the Academy. And Hiei wasn't about to forget the grins the staff had in the weeks leading up to his departure.
"But no man would be a true man without his flaws," Takenaka said and smiled rather serenely. "So here you are. You have your problems, yes, but they are nothing that would bar you from my classrooms. In fact, if you haven't sensed already, you'll find things much different here than in the world beyond our gates. I hope this change of environment is the catalyst to you discovering a new sense of self, Hiei."
New self? Hiei scoffed. He liked himself the way he was and wasn't about to change into another mindless obedient puppet for the Academy to mold, fawn over, and add to their statistics to tell the world their students always made first place in the classroom and on the sports field. Hiei was and will always be Hiei.
Takenaka turned and looked up at the brilliant rose window. "Not to be rude, Hiei, but are you Catholic?"
Hiei shook his head no. Here it comes…Hiei bristled. He knew the priest would get around to asking this sooner or later.
"Ah, I see… The director made no mentioning of it and I wanted to ask you to tell you the times for Mass, of course. It is no issue that you are not, and should you desire to attend, our services are open to you. There are certain aspects of the Mass, however, you will be declined from participating in, such as Communion."
You won't have trouble keeping me away, read Hiei's eyes and frown.
Takenaka cleared his throat. Hiei made it obvious that he was not a student he would see again in the pews. With the way Hiei had stiffened up at the first inquiry into his religious beliefs, Takenaka quickly moved their talk elsewhere. None of Hiei's glares put off Father Takenaka in any way. He showed no reaction to any defensive behavior Hiei set up. He must have been through something like this with other students for nothing fazed him. The priest continued smiling and confidently standing his ground against Hiei.
Takenaka placed his hands behind his back. Suddenly, the friendliness in Father Takenaka's voice and demeanor rapidly shifted. Now was time for the disciplinarian. Furrowing his brow, he spoke sternly, his baritone voice lightly reverberating throughout the church, "I must advise you that, while I know and understand the reasons behind your behavior and I am sympathetic to you, I will not tolerate any transgressions of any sort. You are a student and you will adhere to the school's rules and follow the honor code to the fullest extent as such. Is that clear, Mr. Jaganshi?"
"Yes…" Hiei paused, gritted his teeth, and spat, "sir."
Takenaka nodded and adopted a smile once more. "Well, we understand one another a little better now, don't we? I do wish you a fine day and a smooth transition into our beloved Sacred Heart Academy. Now if you'll excuse me, Hiei…"
Father Takenaka gave a short bow and then walked down the aisle and exited the cathedral. Hiei was left standing by the altar, not quite sure how he felt about the priest. On one hand, he hated him. He was the school's authority. He controlled every thing and everyone inside these gates. He dictated the rules and Hiei had to follow. But on the other hand, he knew Hiei's past and said he sympathized with Hiei. And even knowing full well about Hiei didn't deter his offer that gave Hiei this chance to better his life. Hiei couldn't bear Father Takenaka complete contempt because of that.
But he was hoping for change out of Hiei, and the priest could go off himself before Hiei did a stupid thing like that.
-o-
Walking around alone all morning was as boring as it sounded but it was quiet, peaceful, refreshing. Unlike now in the dining hall where all the clanks and bumps of serving trays and the scratching utensils merged with student chatter and laughter into a roaring hum no one seemed to hear any longer. Hiei ate alone. It was nothing new to him, having always kept to himself at the orphanage. What bothered him was the finger pointing, the whispering, and the inevitable jokes cracked at his expense. Not from everyone, of course. For the most part, the student body ignored him, or at least faked they were. Hiei guessed that was the double curse of being new and the Academy's charity case.
Yeah, they had to have known. Not like the papers hadn't stuck his face and name everywhere. So what if he had won a scholarship? It was an accident. Hiei hadn't even tried. It was all a publicity stunt for the Academy anyway. Sacred Heart probably chose him, not for his test results (no matter what Takenaka said), but because he had the saddest story. The school knew that the papers would eat up a good sob story.
His lunch would have been entirely uninterrupted if not for the chatty group sitting at the table across from him. Really Hiei would have just tuned everyone out as white noise, except a few of them had particularly annoying laughs and everything seemed to be a big joke today.
Analyzing the group dynamics was easy for Hiei. There was the popular guy in the center, flanked by two guys who wanted to be the popular guy, surrounded by the girls who wanted to date the popular guy, and everyone else listening in who didn't get a close seat this time. Through listening and close observation, Hiei found it odd that the popular guy, though his accomplishments and thoughts seemed to be the group's fascination, rarely said anything, except to briefly answer a direct question or to clarify another's explanation.
Crazy thing was the guy didn't seem worth the ruckus. He wasn't particularly athletically built but was more on the slender side. His skin color was a shade pale, probably due to a lack of recent sun-exposure, but fair and healthy nonetheless. Seemed unnatural though that the guy's skin was flawless and showed absolutely no signs of any recent blemishing, if ever. Plus the guy looked noticeably formal and stiff, evident in the way he sat—his shoulders squared, his back so straight Hiei assumed a metal rod rather than a spine supported him, and his fingers were interlaced and set on the table. Hiei couldn't see his legs because of all the other people but he would bet they were crossed.
And if the director was worried his hair was too unruly, she should have seen this guy's head. Up, down, his hair grew how ever it wanted and apparently as long as it wanted as well. Hands down, it was the brightest shade of red he had ever seen on a guy. The girls were probably only there to look at him, drawn like bees to a flower, and the guys were only there for the girls, like bullfrogs preying on the bees.
Hiei continued to monitor the conversation—it was something to do after all—paying attention to whoever was speaking for an instant or two while he slipped subtle glances to see the center boy's reaction. The boy would look into a person's eyes if they lied. He would stare over the speaker's head if he was no longer interested in the story. And, Hiei's personal favorite, he would blink twice faintly if he was asked a stupid question.
Hiei went about this unnoticed until midway through a particularly long story his eyes were lured away from the peppy girl speaking, slowly, dragged by an imperceptible compulsion and a nagging feeling he was forgetting something, and found themselves meeting two expressionless brilliant green eyes.
He instinctively scowled at the boy and then looked down at his plate and pretended to pick at it. The small morsel in his mouth swallowed dryly, slipping down like glue. He messed up somewhere. Hiei huffed curtly as he glared down at his milk carton. No one ever caught him. A master of secrecy never got caught. Waiting a few moments, Hiei, thinking himself in the clear, raised up to check if the redhead was still looking. No, the boy was turned slightly to the side, listening to a new story.
But seconds after Hiei looked up and thought himself undoubtedly safe, the redhead boy's eyes shifted and matched again with Hiei's. He was going to say something, Hiei was certain and narrowed his stare sharply at the boy, something that would brand him as a freak toward the whole student body. Not like he wasn't used to being called a freak… Hiei would just rather no one talked about him at all. Or worst yet, he speculated, the boy was about to invite him over to their table and subject him to the group's mind-numbing blather.
The redhead did neither of those.
He smiled, a small, kind upturn of his lips so subtle Hiei thought only he imagined it at first.
Hiei's thoughts flat-lined. What was he supposed to do? Smile back? No, this wasn't that kind of smile. Well, Hiei didn't know what kind of smile it was, but it wasn't that kind of smile. Wave? Say hello? Out of the question. Hiei would eat his serving tray, fork and knife included, before he waved or said hello. Just his considering of waving or saying hello warranted intense ridicule of himself later. Luckily, someone walked between their tables and the problem solved itself. Hiei grabbed his tray, threw the redhead a scowl, and left.
