Field Lines, Ch 1: Sophomore Kick-off

Author: Starlit Serenade

Disclaimer: If I owned KH, Birth by Sleep would have been out 2 years ago.

Not only obvious was the fact that the gorgeously school-famous quarterback, the amazing, super salty Roxas Hikaru would make the football team every year, but it was expected. The sandy blond super star was usual talk among the busy halls of scattering students as they rushed periodically from locker to class and back again. Of course, that kind of procedure was typical in the stand of being a mega popular teen.

Thus like previous years before, the student populations talk spread like wild fire among the chatty, gossiping students.

"He's dating Olette!"

"You mean that orange-loving, Kairi hating douche?"

"Yeah!"

"He's way too good for her."

"Isn't there tryouts today?"

"Yup."

"…Think he'll tear his shirt off?"

"I hope so!"

The very day that peaked gossip, was in fact the day of football tryouts. A collective number of students had already informed their parents or guardians that they would be staying behind. The girls, mainly, in hopes that the slim and trim, well formed sophomore would show off some kind of bicep.

Slamming lockers and whoops of excitement rang through the hallways as people conversed with an almost ballistic, mile a minute chatter. The blond male, the topic of the talk, stood by his own locker, accompanied by two brunettes and a silverette.

"Jeez!" Roxas shook his head after being slapped on the shoulder supportively for the utmost time that day. "Doesn't any one have, I dunno, something ELSE to do around here that hit me all day and tell me that they'll watch me try out?"

A girl, who ever so obviously favored the color orange, shrugged and pulled her brunette curl over her shoulder as she leaned against the side of his locker in a flirty manner. "Probably because to this school, you're a big deal, Hun."

Roxas rolled his eyes at her. "Yeah, Olette. Sure. My foot ball tryouts are a big deal."

The silverette boy rolled his own eyes over to his blond quarterback friend, a little annoyed. "Rox, you're trying out. And you're quarterback. That's what makes it a big deal."

Olette nodded vigorously, fluffing her cheer outfit. "Yeah, Rox! Your like, Tim Tebow of Destiny High."

Roxas sighed in aggravation, shoving a spiral notebook and a mechanical pencil into his locker. "Tim Tebow? What ev, Ollie."

Sora, Roxas' twin brother, sighed. "Why is it that you get so stubborn on tryout days?"

Sora wasn't Roxas' complete twin, because he had longer, chocolate brown hair and favored soccer, but they came pretty close. A famous trait in the Hikaru family was they're diamond crystal-blue eyes.

Roxas eyed his family member, annoyed. "I'm not stubborn."

All three of his companions rolled they're eyes and chorused with a 'Yes you are!'

()()()()()()

Two hallways down, in a more civil area of the halls, stood a pretty blond haired female of about fifteen years of age whom at the moment, was standing by her best friends locker, both of them locked in an intriguing conversation of their own.

"Kairi! Don't keep things from me!" the platinum blond complained, holding the edge of her friends' locker so that the locker wouldn't shut, no matter how hard her maroon haired best friend would struggle to close it.

"It's for the best! I don't want to tell you yet," Kairi reasoned, flicking her friends fingers away from her locker door.

"Why not? The suspense is killing me!" the blond continued on her complaining rant.

The maroon haired girl grinned, mocking maliciously at her almost sister and chuckled quietly. "That's the idea, Nami!"

Kairi Sutoso and Naminé Arslambak had been the best of friends since they were of the age of three, and had both always stuck close to one another. As they had began their sophomore years, Naminé, whom was a talented flutist, toke a much braver stand with her talents and finally had the guts to join the Destiny High School marching band.

Kairi, whom had no desire to leave her friend alone in the world to be picked on by the more 'beauteous' population and stereo-type as the classic 'band nerd', decided to follow suit. Since the maroon haired girl had no real musical talents besides the ability to sing, which was of absolutely no use to that of the world of marching band, she came up with the absolute most brilliant idea; an idea involving the art of spinning a flag. That art, was indeed followed up by the name of 'Color Guard'.

At this particular moment in time, Kairi was keeping from Naminé the one thing both girls had been dying to know all week; whether or not Kairi had made the Color Guard team.

For those who didn't know, Color Guard was a field that pursued a more elite and almost poetic section of the band, more or less known as the 'beauty of the band'. Color Guard was usually made up of a small or medium group of females, whom all possessed the incredible talent of the ability to have hand-eye coordination and enough flexibility to perform dance moves and tricks with the use of a five foot five inch tall flagpole with double weights.

It was truly an amazing sport, one of which many people disregarded as irrational or lame. But most of those very people wound up astounded with the end results of a flag teams hard work.

"Okay, so when do you actually plan on telling me?" Naminé prodded as the two made their way through the crowded hallways that intertwined through mazes that made up almost a mile of school grounds.

"The day of marching season," Kairi responded, grinning widely.

"Kai! That tells me practically nothing!" Naminé whined, propping open the door to the band room. "Hold on a second, I need to get my flute."

Kairi nodded, holding the door as her blond haired, crystal eyed best friend ran across the band room, dodging trumpet cases and a snare drum on her way to her certified band locker to retrieve the silver musical instrument she played so well.

The hard case felt rough on her hands, a paradox to the smooth cool silver instrument it held inside, and Naminé held the cased tool with respect as she walked back across the band room, to catch up with the red headed female she knew so well.

"Kairi?"

"Yes Nami?"

"You had better tell me as soon as possible."

"I will!"

()()()()()

As expected, Roxas Hikaru had made that years position as Destiny Highs Quarterback, to Olettes (head cheerleader and school hoe) pleasure. The Band and the Color Guard met up for band camp, for the first time, and Naminé was ecstatic when she met Kairi at the front door.

The maroon haired girl had made Color Guard, succeeding in becoming one of the guards' higher tossers and an expert with the rifle.

In the long weeks that followed, while the football players trained, the cheerleaders did makeup and came up with corny phrases, and the band worked their behinds off marching, memorizing music and sets, and spent long hours in the hot late summer sun, friends were made, drama ensued, and the such. But since it was only the beginning of the year, nothing could truly prepare them for what was to come.

()()()()()()

"Where's my hair tie?"

"Screw your hair tie, where's my flag?"

"Guys, either of you seen my other jazz shoe?"

Kairi stood in front of a mirror in the Guard Room, fighting off the jittery nerves. This was it, the very first game of the season. She applied another coat of exaggerated eye-shadow to her eyelids and higher, before attacking the marigold color with silver glitter gel.

In Color Guard, you're supposed to look as extravagant as you can with your facial features, since you can't be seen to well from the top of the stands with the natural look. So this year, the color guard was wearing the gold, silver, black color scheme, with silver lips, gold eyes and an awesome add in- black contacts. The show was expressed on a theme brimming with war and judgment, the songs chosen were harsh and instrumentals were demonic, thus the odd choices in contact wear.

'Geez… I look creepy…' Kairi glanced at herself in the mirror with a grimace. The Goth look wasn't exactly her thing. And as a sophomore with medium-high class, the usually colorful, pastel and bright clothed female, wearing so much darkness and so much sparkle weren't exactly her thing. But she loved the thrill of the flag, the familiarity of being apart of such a tremendous honor, so the whole ordeal was over ruled by her high level of excitement.

She gave herself a last look in the mirror, almost scaring herself. This wasn't her at all, but oh well…

Behind her, fellow guard members were running around frantically, picking inside each others lockers for articles of clothing, accessories, extra makeup compacts, and things of the such. The room was already always cluttered with the things they needed, but when it came down to it, none of them were really organized, except maybe Kairi herself and her friend Selphie. Sel herself had just closed her neat and tidy locker, looking the combination and walked over to Kairi. The two girls glanced at each other with matching black eyes and grinned.

"You look like the Grim Reaper, Kai," Selphie laughed.

"You don't look to creepy yourself, Sel."

As the two chatted, across the hall, in the band room, there was a similar commotion. Band kids scurried about, grabbing instruments and not-so-neatly placing them in their cases as the pulled on bibbers and zipped each others band jackets.

Naminé, already primped with her hair in a tight bun, held her shako* in one hand and her flute case in the other as she looked at herself in her band locker mirror. This was it. The day she had been waiting for.

"Nami!"

She turned her head, a few loose bands waving in her face as she set her flute case down. Brushing the stray bangs to the side, the pale eyed blonde met eyes with TJ, the "Super Band Man" as some would call him.

TJ was never late for anything, learned his music within days of obtaining it, finished his laps and pushups before anyone else, and was one of the only band guys with muscles that were worth looking at. Naminé would admit that he was kind of cute, but really not her type. More Kairis, but even then, he wouldn't interest her. "Yeah? What's up?"

"Well, I had to say two things," he paused.

"And they are…?" she prompted.

"Um….Good luck tonight….I'm glad you made it to band… oh, and um… you're the band librarian…do you happen to have a spare copy of "'Til I Collapse"? I need to go over a measure."

"Oh, um, thanks, and yeah, here, you can have my copy," she handed him a slip of paper before shutting her locker.

"To have?" The brunette questioned.

"Yeah, I've got it memorized," she gave him a light smile before picking up her flute case again.

"That's whet I say," someone roughly tapped the top of her shako, that she had set on her head moments before.

"Hmm?" Naminé turned to meet the mid chest of the tall red headed male, Axel, a senior who didn't give a damn about life an his favorite line was "Got it Memorized?". He actually made a shirt once that said it in flaming letters. One would ask what a tough, bad boy hottie like Axel would be doing hanging around a crew of band nerds, and he would always use the excuse that he needed the "Extra Curricular Credits to Graduate", but Naminé could always see the truth behind it when he played the snare. Axel was a born percussionist, and played everything from snare, to tenors, to the piccolo and trumpet. He's been in band all four years of high school, and Naminé had known him for as long as she could remember. He dated her older sister, Larxene, for a long time. He even had a favorite nickname for Naminé.

Anyways, the male gave her a lazy grin. "You're standing on my drumstick, Pipsqueak."

That very name.

Naminé looked down, and sure enough, there was a stray Vic Firth drumstick under her previously shined marching shoe. Reaching down to pick it up, the timid girl muttered a sorry and handed it to him. The snare player simply grinned wickedly. "No harm, no foul. Don't trip tonight while you're marching."

"Ill try not to," Naminé told him light-heartedly.

TJ had already disappeared into the crowd, but Naminé shrugged it off. It wasn't like he really wanted to strike a conversation with her. He just needed music.

()()()()()

Roxas stretched his muscles, cracking his back and knuckles in the process. First game, and like all season start offs, there was a ruckus among the players and coaches.

The blonde teen school celebrity sighed, feeling the stress crackle in the air. He had felt this before, the steam of independence when everyone else cowered to one side and relied on him to score alone. He never had support, and was always expected to "do his very best" and "kick complete and total ass".

The closest he ever obtained to help was a kiss on the check from Olette, who didn't even tell him good luck-just simply said shed try to look hot when she cheered to distract the other team-and the occasional slap on the back from friends.

"Come on man, game up. We've got Twilight Knight ass to pummel tonight. I've got your back!"

Scratch that. The weight of the game was always on both Roxas and Rikus shoulders.

Riku, the DHS linebacker, had always had Roxas' back. He was almost ashamed to have forgotten about him.

"You've got that right," Roxas slapped he's partner in crime a high five, before strapping his helmet on.

"Let's do it, man."

()()()()()()

The game progressed swiftly, and at half time, Kairi and Naminé glanced at each other nervously. This would be the first performance the band would be showing all of their community, and on a more stressed note, their peers.

Like at any other normal high school foundation, the classic bitch-stereotype was a must-have. The kids your same age area would always be the worst to please. The gossip would never stop talking, because they never find anything else interesting to do. And personally, the cruelty of the matter could never be stressed enough, even when you heard about the suicide reports related to in-school bullying and the programs health teachers and executives handed out in your homerooms that pitted against peer/gender/sexuality cruelty and teasing. It wouldn't end.

So why would it stop here, at the first game of the season? Why wouldn't snobs and gossip trash talkers find something crappy to say about the "Dorks of Marching Band"?

Truth of the matter was that peers really don't know how to shut the hell up, and that's a fact even the guidance councilors know.

Clutching her flute in one and, Naminé glanced out at the stadium nervously. Since it was a home game, the opposite team had the privilege of performing their half time first, allowing Naminé a chance to cool her jets.

One part of her screamed, 'Girl! What the hell are you doing?' and the other told her she couldn't back out. She didn't like either choice, but maybe it was just nerves. Which she had been previously told was good, because nerves always turned into adrenaline.

Either way, her few minutes were up, and the snare rung out, alerting the entire band to mark time. 'Shit, shit, shit!' Naminé had a small panic attack in her head as the band marched out into the stadium in step, looking more confident than she felt.

()()()()()()

Maybe four or five minutes later, Naminé took her final playing breath, and the song ended. She stood motionless and wide eyed a she looked out across the audience in front of her. A moment of silence, and then they all began vigorously clapping.

She breathed a bittersweet sigh of relief, catching eyes with other flute players, who gave her ever-so-slight nods of approval. Even the first chair flutist, Amanda, gave her a wink.

For the first time in her life, Naminé felt accomplished.