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From the Author:

Aha. *grins and flashes a peace sign* This is my first attempt at writing a mix of humor and drama and romaaaaaance in one ficcy and from a POV too! This is SLASH, has VULGAR LINGO (courtesy of the Tasuki/Genrou Voracious Vocals Cooperation) and therefore if you CAN'T TAKE IT PLEASE DON'T READ IT. *wink* Granted, the idea was super spontaneous and thus has no rigid guidelines, it therefore also has zero rights, all of which belong to the lucky chick Yuu Watase (is that her?) Ehehehe….well do tell me what you think….if the idea is good enough…..or anything, crap, if it's even good enough to continue. -_-

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Chapter One

As I hurtled around the corner, the mud splattered on the windscreen, making the route near impossible to navigate. Gritting my teeth, I closed my eyes and floored the accelerator on instinct. I was so close…the final lap…

As the car skidded onto the dirt track, the screech of the wheels below and the muffled sounds of cheering outside made me smile. I accelerated to 200 miles an hour, feeling the car nudge the ground and balk as it surged forward.

There was the black and white flag. I was going to make it.

A red blur shot past me and I nearly screamed in annoyance. Fuuuuuuuck!!! Ayuru!!!

There was no way I was going to lose. I exhaled shakily as my adrenaline climbed to an all time high. I'm not going to lose.

I shifted the gears and dug the pedal to the floor. As the car shot past the steadily cranking red Ferrari, I allowed myself a wicked grin. Last corner. I twisted the wheel in my hands and tore it to the right that split second ahead of Ayuru.

The checkered banner flapped onto my windscreen as I braked instantly to a smoking stop. I could smell the faint burn of tires. My hands were shaking as perspiration dripped down the side of my face.

Damn. What a ride.

When I got out of the car, I had stopped trembling from the sheer thrill of it all, but nearly blinded by the white-hot flashes of light that snapped in my face. Wh—

A weight slammed into me from the side, and I was thrown back against the car's left side, and the hug that proceeded very nearly deprived me of breath as I choked and gagged and flailed as much from the strangle-hold as from the dust.

"GENROU, YOU LUCKY BASTARD, YOU WON!!!!"

I stopped struggling as the realization sank into my head.

Wait. This is the Interstate Grand Prix. I'm racing for finals. I'm the youngest team member of Mercedes. And…

Oh.

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Ah. I love being me.

Grinning madly to myself, I grabbed my bag and hopped out of the car, stuffing my keys into my pocket and made my way across campus.

"Genrou!"

I turned immediately, only to be met with the adoring face of a familiar girl, and I shivered involuntarily. It was her.

"Hello!" she chirped, and I gulped and shriveled as she hooked an arm through mine. Miaka was a girl from my English class. She was as close to a nerd as you could get, albeit an exceptionally clumsy one. I had caught her sprawled on the floor the first day of school when I had walked into class, and the next moment she had screamed and made a scene. Something about chocolate.

Now mind you, I have nothing against girls. I can get along just fine with them. It's just against my religion to have them plastered on my face.

"So are you still into racing? Are you?"

I cringed as she turned and chattered excitedly into my ear, but I caught sight of a familiar head just in front. Snatching my arm back as unobtrusively as I could, I raced the few paces and thumped the guy enthusiastically. "Kouji!"

I could see Miaka out of the corner of my eye, and prayed silently. Don't come near me, please don't come near me. Then a loud smack on my head whipped my attention around, and I blinked at the narrowed slits that glared eyeball to eyeball with me.

"Genrou? How.many.times.have.I.told.you.not.to.do.THAT?"

I squawked and backed away, turning to flee but running smack into a group of occupied girls. They looked up in surprise as I lost my balance and nearly tripped, but was saved when Kouji reached out a hand to grab the back of my shirt. I stood there feeling like an unbelievable moron when it happened.

A page of the currently perused newspaper fluttered to the ground, and I immediately wished for my sunglasses, if only to avoid the keen, then wondering, then excited glances.

There, plastered across the front page of the state newspaper's sports section under a bold black headline, was Genrou Shun of the prestigious Asroburn College.

In other words. Me.

I fled to the piercing screams of adulation and the sound of Kouji going nearly berserk with laughter.

That little bastard.

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With the stolen cap now perched as low as it could go on my forehead, I prayed it safe to enter class. The room was noisy with all the greeting and laughter, but I spotted a window seat at the furthest corner and practically raced to it, clutching my bag to myself.

Well. I hadn't been recognized any other time. There were high hopes of it turning out to be a perfectly normal first school day of the second term.

The new teacher, an anorexic-looking, bespectacled woman who looked distinctly out of place with her gray and white power suit and hairnet, walked in. I groaned silently. There would be no order with the kind of teacher they had provided us. I had been hoping to pass English this term.

The noise level did not stop, if anything, it increased in volume. I closed my eyes and sank into my chair.

SLAAAAAM!!!

Shocked, I nearly fell off, but the leg of the chair getting caught in the table luckily prevented that. The class had fallen silent. And every eye in the room darted cautiously towards the new teacher.

A long, evil looking metal ruler winked from her left hand. A small smile spread on her face.

Wow. That's power from such a skinny wrist. I noted it down mentally and filed it away for future reference.

"Well then, class. Take your seats. Good morning!"

Silence.

It was almost funny. I gulped and tried to swallow a snicker as the group of boisterous guys, whom I recognized as varsity football players, dispersed so suddenly it was almost as though they had never been there.

"I suppose you would be very disappointed if we followed the tradition of the no-work bar on the first day of school. You all did come here to learn, didn't you?"

Nobody answered. I was speechless with awe.

"All right, then shall we all turn to our textbooks page—"

The door swung open, and automatically, the attention was diverted from The Fearsome Presence in front of the class to a slim boy standing in the doorway, his face flushed and his book-bag banging against his hip.

"Sorry I'm late!"

I watched the teacher with interest, as a delicate eyebrow rose at the late entrance. Smoothly, a pencil appeared from nowhere and traced the attendance sheet rapidly, then slowed and stopped at the bottom, where it liberally circled a name.

"Ah. A new student to Asroburn College. Boys and girls, you will please welcome Ri Houjun."