By Light of Star

QianXuan

"Orororororo."

"Kenshin! Were you even listening?"

Blinking rapidly to settle his eyeballs back into their sockets, Kenshin turned and sighed at his kid sister. There had to be a less painful way to get his attention. "No."

Misao sagged and banged her forehead on Kenshin's collar bone. "Never mind. I was just trying to tell you not to space out on me." She gestured expressively at the gates of their new school, towering grey and forbidding above their heads. "Not here, not now."

Straightening his uniform again, Kenshin gave her a small smile. "Yes, fine. Shall we go? School awaits." And so, as the huge clock mounted near the top of the school building struck eight, the pair stepped into their first, fateful day of school.

"Whoa—FORE!"

Misao jumped out of the way. Kenshin was bowled down in the grass by a bony, screaming cannonball. "Oof."

What in the world…he frowned and willed his vision to stop swimming. He had lived with a human cannonball all his life, but the girl was standing right there. And she seemed to be laughing. Kenshin directed a flat stare at his sister and turned his attention to the boy sitting on his chest.

The brown eyes under the spiky brown hair looked annoyed, of all things. The boy was small, quite a bit slighter than even Misao; neither of the siblings had been anywhere near average-sized, themselves. As he jumped off, he gave a long grunt of exasperation. "It's eight, chum. Eight o'clock. At eight o'clock, nobody walks through the gates if they don't want to get thumped. You're new, aren't you?"

"Yes," replied Kenshin, rolling over and dusting himself off. "And yes, I do accept your sincerest apology."

The kid arched an eyebrow at him. "Not my fault that you're new."

Kenshin looked at his sister. "Why does he sound so much like you?" Misao shrugged; she looked intrigued.

"'sides, it wasn't me. He did it."

Following the path of the kid's finger, Kenshin found himself looking at a huge, waving, grinning rooster. A huge, waving, grinning rooster that was headed his way. Ah, wait a second—it was a man. He squinted; yes, a man with a rooster's head.

"Chicken-head did it?" Misao frowned. Then she broke into the toothy, dangerously hyperactive grin that he knew so well. "He threw you? Cool."

"The name, dear weasel, is Rooster-head. Rooster-head." The rooster-man swaggered to a stop beside Ken, and easily rested his elbow atop Ken's red mop. "Sagara Sanosuke at your service, my lady. And you too, o'course." He patted Kenshin. Kenshin smiled brightly, and backed away.

"Yeah, and I'm Yahiko. Who're you guys?" The kid, unfortunately, decided to stick an elbow into Misao's ribs. Misao smoothly brought hers down on his head. Hard. "Misao. My name is Misao. This here red-head is my brother, Kenshin. Anything else you'd like to know, Yahiko-chan?"

"Hey, drop the 'chan'!"

"Not my fault you're a kid." Misao stuck her tongue out at him, and then rounded on Sanosuke with The Grin. "Can you throw me? Please?"

"Good lord. Misao! We need to find the office, remember?" Kenshin made a desperate attempt to drag his sister towards the building.

Sanosuke produced a short, battered baton from nowhere and gave Yahiko a poke. "The office, officer! You heard him! Forward, march!" And they marched. Sanosuke glanced back with a sign to follow.

Kenshin started to smile, shake his head and make a dash for the gates. Misao grabbed hold of his collar and jogged after the two. "Orororororo…"

Three minutes later, he was squirming in one of the wooden, straight-backed chairs in the waiting room of the principal's office. Beside him, Misao was almost bouncing. Another chair away, the two psychotics arm-wrestled. Kenshin buried his face in his satchel; he knew this wasn't such a good idea.

Presently, a bell tinkled, and the door-lock clicked open. "Come."

A darkly clad figure sat in the leather armchair behind the large, carved table, writing in a big notebook with quick, firm strokes. He was obviously tall, even seated, and straight, narrow shoulders added to the lean look. Without raising his immaculately combed head, he said, "Seat yourselves." Kenshin shivered a little and seated himself. Misao did the same.

The hand paused and laid down the pen, while the eyes gave the writing a last, appraising look. The hand returned and closed the book, and then lifted to remove the fine, silver-framed glasses from the face. Finally, the slanted, amber eyes rested on the two before him. Kenshin suddenly felt tiny.

"Himura Kenshin, and Misao. Siblings. Seventeen, and fourteen. Requiring lodgings. Correct?" The principal's voice was smooth and calm, and unnerving. With a subdued glance from Misao, Kenshin nodded.

"Good." The man paused to straighten the plaque in front of his desk. "Welcome to White Hart High. My name is Saitou Hajime."

"We," Sanosuke announced, "are here."

Kenshin and Misao had been directed to the dormitories, with, regrettably, the same two psychotics as their guides. Now, two crisply white buildings stood on either side of the group, the right and left marked with a blue and pink band respectively: the boys'; and the girls'.

Misao fidgeted slightly under her brother's anxious glance. Kenshin looked all around. "Where is her guide? Shouldn't she be here by now?"

"Relax, chum. Kamiya Kaoru is a busy girl. Give her a little time, eh?"

Kamiya Kaoru. Kenshin was quite certain he had never heard that name before, but somehow, just repeating it under his breath left his throat dry. It was a bad sign, very bad; he had learned to trust his instincts, in instances like this. He cast another searching look around him, this time more worried than impatient.

There.

There? There's noth—

There. Behind the bush.

"Good lord," he whispered. There, behind the bush, something was lying on the ground. At that distance he couldn't tell what it was, but he could guess. "Yahiko-chan, I think she was here before us."

"Drop the—oh. Oh."

Her deep blue suit had been soaked through with blood, as had her dark ponytail. Kenshin vaguely noticed her black baseball cap lying in the brush nearby. He knelt down beside the motionless body lying face-down in the grass, fingers searching for a pulse—it was there. Weak, but there. He heaved a sigh of relief. "Yes, she's alive. But she won't be for long, the blood's still flowing." The rest of the group stared at him. "Get help, for goodness sake!"

Both Misao and Yahiko dashed off, back up the way they came. Sanosuke dropped to his knees beside Kaoru. "Not serious, I don't think," he muttered, gently prodding her neck and back. "Her spine is fine, so I think we can turn her over. Give me a hand?"

A deep gash ran diagonally across her forehead, ending just inside the hairline. Her hands were grazed, but that was about all. But blood was still oozing through the cut. "Barely five minutes ago, I'd say." Kenshin's voice lowered to a murmur, as if thinking aloud. "She's breathing normally, so that's alright. I think—"

"Out of my way, kid. What have you done with her? You kids!" In one deft motion, the newcomer swept her long, thick hair into a knot. "Don't you know not to move an injured patient?"

"School nurse," muttered Sanosuke, scratching his ear. "Bossy old hag. But here comes the trouble."

Yahiko and Misao were hanging back, trying to catch a peek of the scene from behind a sleek, finely-cut black coat. Saitou-san stood with his glasses hanging loosely from one hand, taking in the commotion with unnatural calm. A moment later his lips pursed thinly, and he shifted his attention to the four. "The events here will not go beyond the seven people present at this moment," he stated softly, "with no exceptions whatsoever. You will now join me in the office, and you will see why."

Author's note: First fic : ) Be kind, review! Sankyu...