Disclaimed. All hail, Higuchi.

Perfidious

-:-

First Chapter

He was known for his dancing skills. She was known for her sudden transfer in the middle of the school year. When they both met, he felt something different about her while she remained impassive.

They met when she walked past him on her way to the admitting section and it took him six seconds to realize he was staring. He closed his locker and let his thoughts fly along with his first impressions of her.

He heard she was kicked out from her last school due to her delinquency but he knew all too well not to believe in rumors- those ugly little things. He just didn't feel the need to stick his nose in the business of others.

She didn't make too many friends, just this guy who transferred along with her. The rumors buzzing around about the ruckus she made in her previous school all the more made it harder for her to get acquainted with anyone. Who would want to pleasure themselves with her friendship when their reputations were at stake when she was obviously chipped?

He wasn't going to judge her because of those reasons, he decided.

But the others just didn't grasp the essence of one's privacy. There were these people who kept on being the detectives they're not. He didn't know if it was a good thing that somehow, people started talking to her or a bad thing since they're just trying to wring out any information from her, especially from the guy she was mostly seen with.

-:-

Every afternoon was always his personal time. He would go to the studio and practice the dance steps alone. On Mondays, the president of the dance club would accompany him, teaching him the steps. He doesn't join the other members unless it's the last rehearsal. Nobody protested about it because so far, all went well.

It was on a Wednesday when he settled on freestyle dancing. The next performance was still a month from now and the club president barely taught him that many to put into practice. He turned the player on and began with various songs.

His movements jived along with the beat. It was almost as if his body was moving on its own by just listening to the music. He didn't need to exert too much. If anyone were to see him at the moment, they'd think his dancing was effortless.

And effortless she did think.

He saw her reflection on the mirror, clapping her hands with that small tug of her lips and eyes that bore right through him. It was the kind of smile that screamed trouble. Maybe the rumors were true.

He didn't move and just gave her a blank look through the mirror while she moved a step closer.

"I like contemporary dancing," she said, slipping her hands inside the back pocket of her pants, shifting all her weight in one leg.

"Were you aware this is a closed practice?" he countered, glued to his spot.

She gave him a light chuckle. "I'm well aware."

"Then why-"

She cut him off and walked to where the player was placed. It was still booming. She sat down and made herself comfortable. "I told you, I like contemporary dancing. You were dancing fluidly with the songs."

He kept an eye on her, never noticing his ragged breathing and the sweat that started trickling from his forehead.

"Can I have a peek?" she asked, gesturing his iPod.

"Go ahead," he shrugged.

He finally noticed all the sweat that's been absorbed by his shirt thus walking towards his knapsack. He took out his hand towel and wiped his face, his nape, hung it there around then fishing out a plain white shirt. "Don't turn around."

"Did you say something?" she half-shouted, all the while doing the opposite move he told her not to do.

"I told you not to look!"

He was already topless the moment their eyes met yet again.

Her head tilted and rolled her eyes, her attention back on his iPod. "I've seen better."

"Tch," was what he only managed to return, wearing his shirt.

After what seemed like ten more minutes, she stood up and crossed her arms in front of him. He looked up to see her smiling. It was angelic and the rumors he heard about her being delinquent ceased to exist. Where did that dangerous look in her eyes go?

"What's with the grin?" he asked. He was fiddling with his phone.

"I like your song choices. Is this what you always play during dance performances?"

"More or less. Half are mine," he shrugged.

"If that's the case, I might audition for the club. When are you holding try-outs?"

"Auditions are over a month back. But you can talk to the club president. She might re-consider yours since you're a transfer student. Her name's Sumire Shouda."

She nodded her head and pursed her lips. "Okay, then. Thanks for the info." She turned to leave and he briefly wondered about asking for her name. He was more interested than he ever thought since the first time he saw her.

And as if she read his mind, she answered his thoughts, her back facing him, "I'm Mikan Sakura, by the way. Just thought you should know…Natsume."

She knew his name all along?

He was caught off-guard. "How did you-"

"You're pretty popular here, you know. It's hard not hear your giggling fangirls," she said.

"Do you always do this? Cut people off?"

He didn't mean to do it, but there was a smile playing on his lips. He heard a laugh from her. "More often than not."

"Will you come here again?" he asked without thinking. "I mean-"

"Why not?" was her reply. She made a halt by the doorframe and glanced back, giving him a heart-stopping smile.

And just like last time, he was staring.

Mishie Eru 4-25-2012 1:50pm