Hello everyone! I'm Ryoukko-kai, but please just call me Riko. I know I need to be working on Ice Freezes, but I couldn't resist writing this! I won't update it as frequently as the other, either (hey...I'm not perfect! Otherwise, what would I be doing writing this instead of getting rich?), but I do promise to update at least once a month, okay? As fore the title, it's simply a really fun way to say "chaos", which sums up this story... It's very, very, very, slight alternate universe, but bear with me, it'll make more sense later! Okay, now...uh, read and review! Yeah! That sounds cool! This story is for Forgotten Kaze, who's a serious Mitarai fangirl (another one of us ). Woot!
He looked around, a bit confused. There were so many people, and they practically stampeded through the tiny halls, elbowing or plowing others out of the way with hardly an 'excuse me' or a 'sorry'. That was bad enough, but the noise! Everyone seemed to have something to say, whether it was a quick conversation with the person next to them about their schedule or obscene insults, yelled to those who presumably didn't get out of the way fast enough. Mitarai had hardly any time to react before he too, was swept into the crowd, where he found himself shuffling forward, trying not to get shoved over yet still make it to his homeroom.
He tried to pull out of the river of people, trying to make it to one of the smaller side-hallways. The teeming mass of people pushed him back, acting like a brick wall. Following behind a larger student who was going the same direction, he managed to make it into his hall. Nervous, the boy toyed with his dark blond hair, a habit he had picked up, and stared at the door. Room 204, Mr. Mitsuharu, and Mitarai's homeroom.
The boy slowly opened the door, stepping into the room. Some of the people were recognizable from middle school, like Kyosu Idane and Azumamaro Kanegawa, and he flinched under their gaze. They had always picked on him, and so he had developed a fear of them or their friends.
No…they can't actually hurt me. They mean nothing…but why am I still frightened? he wondered.
He hastily sat down in the nearest desk, not looking at the others. Mitarai dropped his backpack on the ground, unzipping it and looking for his book. Finding it, he leaned back in his chair, opening to the page he had left off on.
Class progressed poorly from there.
First off, he realized that he forgot to bring his agenda. While everyone else had theirs out, he could only shrink in his seat, hoping that he wouldn't get in trouble. During Japanese class, he had to endure the taunts and jibes of the other students, walking in late. The calls of "Look, it's Mitarai!" and "He's actually showing his face here?" rang in his ears. The poor boy didn't like it at all.
In geometry, he had no clue what was going on. His teacher poorly explained what they were supposed to be doing, and she was clearly American, speaking in a thick Southern accent and stumbling over her Japanese. He quietly sat at the back of the room, glad that no one in the room knew him. In that regard, he was lucky.
English, his elective, was confusing and grating. Mitarai couldn't remember how to conjugate "eat" into past tense, nor could he remember how to work with words such as "the" and "is". It was all so different from Japanese… Health was, at least, easy. It was a filler class, plain and simple. Nothing actually happened in the class, other than other kids talked with each other.
He made his way to the buses, hoping that he'd make it there soon enough to get a seat on his own. He didn't like sitting next to people much. Suddenly, he pitched forward, everything he had been holding flying out of his hands.
"What's the matter? Did you trip over your own feet again?" one of the bullies from middle school sneered.
Mitarai lay on the ground, knocked over by a simple foot stuck out to trip him up. His books were on the floor a few feet away, papers and such littering the floor. The boy didn't say anything.
"Why don't you get your friends to stand up for you? Oh, wait, you don't have any."
"C'mon, guys, we're going to be late," one of the other's friends said.
"Yeah, you're right. I've gotta go to my locker, too."
And just like that, they left, leaving poor Mitarai on the ground. The other kids, who had flocked to the trouble like flies to a dead deer, dispersed without so much as one of them helping him. Swallowing his anger, he slowly stood up. Stooping, he scooped up his stuff and continued on his way.
That was it. No complaints, no arguing, only silent acceptance. He simply had no other choice. The blond-haired boy was a bit too prideful to go running to the teachers for help. Fighting back was out; he was a small, rather skimpy teen, and his chances of fighting off a group of stronger others were slim to none. He had long since given up hope of being saved by someone else. The others didn't seem to care.
He sighed, running to catch his bus. If he missed it, his mother would be furious with him. The boy wearily stepped up the stairs, mumbling a quiet "Do you mind…?" before sitting down next to someone he didn't know. He fumbled through his backpack, pulling out a book and opening to the page he left off. That was life.
And, despite the vicious nature of life, it did have its pleasant surprises. Perhaps Fate was agreeing with him, or perhaps it was just a coincidence, but it happened anyway.
"I'm not sure I've seen you before. What is your name?" the person next to him asked in a soft voice.
Mitarai's head snapped up. He hadn't been expecting that one bit.
"Kiyoshi Mitarai," he murmured, not even looking over.
"Hm. What classes are you in?"
"Geometry, honors lit/comp, health, and English," he replied.
"Ah. I'm in horticulture instead of English, and, of course, I'm in sophomore classes instead of freshman classes, but the same basic stuff," the other said.
"Why are you talking to me?" he asked. Normally, such a comment would seem mean-spirited or such, but the cerulean-eyed boy truly wanted to know. He looked up, staring at the teen.
At first glance, they seemed to be a girl, what with wide, bottle green eyes and shoulder length crimson tresses. Still, despite their feminine features, he had a deep male voice and his utter lack of a chest (not that Mitarai was looking; it was obvious at a glance) made him out to be a guy. The boy smiled a warm smile, and the blonde blinked in confusion.
"Well, you just seemed kind of lonely. Oh, where are my manners? I'm Shuuichi Minamino."
The only reason I'm talking to this kid is because of his incredible spiritual energy, the fox apparition thought to himself. It's a wonder that he can't feel my energy, even if he can't recognize it. He's not shivering occasionally or anything. I assume that with limited exposure to youkai, his energy would skyrocket. Perhaps he could be another ally? Who knows?
It figured. The one person who seemed nice enough was the famed Shuuichi, a genius in every subject and the number one favorite among the girls.
"N-nice to meet you," he stammered. Small talk was so difficult…
"No need to be nervous," Shuuichi assured with a smile. "I'm not a bad person."
"No…but you're popular… your kind never sticks up for me."
"My kind?" the redhead asked with a chuckle. "I think you've got the wrong person. Sure, the girls like me, but can I really help that?"
Kiyoshi sighed, turning his attention back to his book. This conversation wasn't getting anywhere, in his opinion.
"What's wrong?" he asked, turning to look at the younger boy.
"Nothing…" he replied.
There was a bit of silence, where Shuuichi didn't seem to know what to say.
"Well, Mitarai, I think you've got the wrong idea of who I am," the emerald-eyed teen said, smiling. "I think you'd just need to get to know me."
What he doesn't know is that I spend my free time saving the world from youkai… Shuuichi thought. Still, I'm not the best of people, either. As Yoko Kurama, I was the most feared of thieves, a powerful demon that could brush aside all but the strongest of apparitions. Add that to my mile-wide criminal streak… Well, what he doesn't know can't hurt him…much.
Mitarai mumbled something incomprehensible. The cobalt-eyed freshman was far too shy for his own good.
"No need to be timid, now."
"O-okay," the blonde mumbled.
Shuuichi smiled warmly.
Besides, if he does not choose to join our cause…then he needs to be monitored, to be eliminated should he attempt to do anything evil. Someone must be close to make sure that he doesn't join the wrong side.
To tell the truth, the blond-haired boy was a bit dazed. Shuuichi Minamino, the single most popular kid in the school, was openly trying to be his friend. Dimly, he realized that he should do something, say something, to the other, but he wasn't sure what.
"Um…what lunch do you have?" he finally asked, scrabbling for something to talk about.
"B lunch," the sophomore replied.
"Me too," he murmured.
The redhead smiled to himself. From his experience, the shy people were always the easiest to get close to. Well, all but Hiei, he mentally amended. Manipulating people had always been a specialty of the fox demon, and this was no exception. He felt a bit of guilt over pretending to care about Mitarai now, but he brushed it aside. The good of the three worlds came above the thoughts of one ignorant boy.
"Well, uh, this is my stop…" the freshman said, standing up. "I guess I'll…see you tomorrow?"
"You can count on it."
The blonde stepped into the aisle, hopped down the stairs, and continued on to the sidewalk. As he walked home, he stared at his feet, deep in thought.
Why is everything like this? he wondered. It's all confusing, and even when someone's being nice it's weird. I don't know what to say, and it's almost as bad as being picked on. But while it is painful when I'm getting bullied, this is different. It's strangely pleasant, yet at the same time, I'm lost. It's because I don't know what I'm supposed to do. But really, Shuuichi of all people…why was he the one to approach me? Isn't he supposed to be untouchable?
He shook his head, curly dirty blonde hair bouncing about. Two little strands of his bangs fell almost in front of his eyes, coming up just a bit short.
Well, why question my good luck?
Mitarai climbed up the hill that led to his house, and others that were on the way. A few other students were behind him, but he paid them no mind. He had tried and failed to talk with them, and he had given up. The others didn't like him, and that was that. The sapphire-eyed boy turned right near the top of the hill, where the road reached a cul-de-sac. He opened the mailbox, pulling out a few letters and a magazine or two, then made his way down the gently sloping driveway. The tan mini van that his mother drove was parked there; she must've gotten home before him.
Blinking, he punched the code in for his garage door, and it obediently opened. Impatient, he ducked under the door, his backpack scraping the bottom of it. He paced over to the refrigerator, the storage one his family kept in the garage, opened the top door, and pulled out a soda. The door into the house was on the right, which he promptly stepped though.
"Hey, Mom! I'm home!" he called out, pushing the door closed and shrugging off his backpack.
He barely even had time to react before a huge German Shepard leaped up on him, planting its paws on his chest. Mitarai stumbled backwards.
"Whoa, boy, down! Down!"
The dog sat on its hindquarters, panting and staring up at him.
"Yeah, Ryobe, I'm glad to see you too," he murmured, absentmindedly patting the dog on the head.
It stared at him rather blankly, a doggy smile on its face. He stretched, glad that his shoulders were free of the burden, and headed for his room.
A regular twin sized bed was up against the left wall, a silky silver comforter thrown over it. The walls were mostly bare; only a poster stating Murphy's Law in large letters was tacked up. He pulled off his favorite yellow hoodie, flicking on the ceiling fan because of the heat, and set it down in a dark blue chair opposite the door. A window took up most of the space behind it, and the blinds were open, letting sunlight in.
He stood in a pair of dark blue jeans and a white T-shirt. Sighing, he lay down on his bed, turning on his television and doing not much else until the next day…
He waited for the bus, staring off into space.
I wonder, will that Shuuichi kid talk to me again? I highly doubt it, he thought. I was the one who sat next to him, not the other way around… Plus, it did seem like I was boring him. Yeah, I'm sure that's it. Why would he waste his time hanging out with me? I'm sure he has popular friends, too. Them and his little fangirls. Yeah, he doesn't even care.
Reassured that everything was as it usually was, he wasn't the least bit apprehensive (well, any more than usual) as he stepped up the three steps that led to the bus. He was about to sit down in the first empty seat he saw, before a soft voice called out, "Why don't you sit over here, Mitarai?"
Stunned, he turned around, and there was Shuuichi. He blinked, before slowly nodding and pacing over to the redhead, who offered a wide grin. Mitarai shyly smiled in return, fiddling with the curly hair at the base of his neck.
"Hey, is he honestly letting Kiyoshi Mitarai sit with him?" a brunette boy asked.
"He must've left his book at home and need to borrow his," someone tossed out.
"Yeah, something like that," a third agreed.
The jade-eyed boy sighed.
"It is rather annoying, being observed so closely, don't you think? I think I'd just about die if I were a celebrity or something," Shuuichi whispered.
The blonde tensely chuckled. Why is he so worried about being too popular? I hate being where I am. I'd rather be stalked by some psychos than remain picked on… I suppose that since he's always been at the top that he considers his own predicament to be worse… figures.
"Call it a hunch, but I have the feeling that we're going to be good friends," the sophomore amicably said.
Of course, if you choose to side with youkai, more than just our friendship shall end… he thought to himself.
Yeah...so, a bit weird, but not too bad, I hope. Just tell me what you think, okay? Feedback is very good.
