"This is a pig sty, Omi," Kaoru exclaimed as he stepped into his best friend's dorm room and began picking his way across what he could see of the floor between the piles of electronic gadgetry, dirty clothes, and empty sweet packets that lay strewn across the carpet. "It's even worse than I thought it would be. I don't think you cleaned at all over the holidays."
Omi, a few steps ahead of him, forced a smile and turned slightly to look back at him. "Ah yes. I'm afraid it's been a while since I tidied up."
"I'm surprised that you keep the Treasury so clean considering you have such bad habits," Kaoru grumbled as he finally reached Omi's desk. "Suddenly I'm less certain the Chairman's insistence that you join the Third Years' computer studies course was such a good idea. Kurosawa-sensei was probably right to protest accelerating you." He pushed the crumpled sports uniform lying on the seat onto the floor and sat down, closing his eyes tightly for a few moments as if he thought that that might vanish the mess. Upon reopening his eyes, he looked critically at Omi, who was standing by the balcony door, which he was sliding open, assumedly in an attempt to aerate the place.
"As soon as you find the Chairman's permission letter regarding the transfer for Kurosawa - if you can, can we leave? I can't bear to look at this place much longer. What does Shinomiya-san say about this hovel?" Kaoru asked.
Omi snickered. "Shinomiya-senpai would agree with you."
"Well, of course. But I'm surprised that he hasn't given you demerit points or extra chores for not cleaning your room." Then he paused and his eyes narrowed. "Why did you say 'would'? Doesn't he inspect your room?"
Omi's smile widened slightly. "Oddly enough, his key card stopped working a little while back. He is still waiting for an adequate fix."
Kaoru huffed. "You're impossible!" Then he sniffed and frowned. "Is that cigarette smoke?" He rose and, Omi's dirtiness temporarily set aside, strode over to the open balcony door. He blinked in surprise when Omi - looking suddenly alarmed - smartly shut the door in his face. "Omi! Who lives beneath you?"
"Sorry, Kaoru-kun. I forgot about that."
"Who?"
Omi smiled again, which only served to irritate Kaoru further. "Who's underneath you, Omi?" he snapped.
"Nakajima-senpai."
"I knew it!" Suddenly, the Queen of Bell Liberty Academy's face was pale with rage. "It's appalling what he gets away with here. He's almost as bad as that idiot Niwa."
Omi turned away from him and went over to his rumpled bed, upon which was stacked a large folder emblazoned with the Bell Liberty logo and - in capitals - "Third Year Computer Studies". Kaoru, a little surprised at not receiving a response to his aggrieved outburst, frowned as he watched his friend collect the folder.
"Kaoru-kun, I'd rather not linger here with the door open." Omi started ahead without waiting for Kaoru's reply, which went rather as he expected as his friend hurried to catch up.
"I think a dose of Shinomiya-san would do you good." Kaoru sniffed as he exited the room and closed the door behind them. "Clean this mess before the weekend or I'll let him into your room myself." The automatic lock clicked into place behind them. "Does Nakajima-san know that you live above him?"
"Perhaps," Omi replied placidly as he led the way down the corridor towards the stairs. "However, as you recall I did move rooms after Kakeru-kun and Wataru-kun flooded the bathroom two months ago. Unless Nakajima-san has studied the dormitory plan since then or monitors our movements, I suspect he does not know at all."
"Humph. I hope it stays that way," Kaoru said crossly. "I wouldn't put him past meddling directly with the wiring to your room."
Omi halted and glanced back at him, his expression suddenly serious. "That's true." Then he smiled peaceably again. "As I haven't encountered any issues, I suppose he doesn't know, then."
NHSO/NHSO/NHSO/NHSO
It was very late that night when Omi finally retired to his room. He chucked his laptop and the slightly dog-eared computer studies folder onto his bed and began to get undressed. First he hung his blazer and tie on the back of his desk chair. Then he shrugged out of his other clothes, casting them carelessly on the floor. For a few fleeting moments, he recalled Kaoru's disgust with his untidiness and glanced around for his clothes hamper, but when he finally sighted it beneath a pile of old computer tests, he grimaced and looked away. He found his crumpled pyjamas amidst his bedsheets and pulled them on, sighing a little as he felt the silk slide sensuously against his skin.
He turned on his bedside lamp, switched off his room light, and was about to climb into bed when he noticed that he could see light beaming out from the floor beneath his balcony, indicating that the Vice President of the Student Council, Hideaki Nakajima, was both still awake and outside.
Quietly, Omi padded over to his balcony door and slid it soundlessly open to be immediately assaulted by the warm acrid smell of cigarette smoke. He leaned against the door jamb, breathing in the smoke, titillated by the thought that some of it had been in the other boy's lungs and mouth. A few minutes later he was rewarded for his patience by the sound of the Vice President's deep voice.
"If you're going to lie, don't get found out."
There was a pause and then Nakajima chuckled lowly. Omi's eyes fluttered closed and, inhaling deeply, he gnawed gently at his lower lip with his teeth. He slid a hand down to palm himself gently through his pyjama pants.
"I'd like that."
Another silence. Then Omi heard the older boy's balcony chair squeak as Nakajima shifted his weight on it.
A tut. "I agree." Spoken gruffly. "Saturday at 6, then. I'll meet you there."
Above, Omi frowned and shut his door to pad over to his bed. A date? Although he knew well that Nakajima frequently had one night stands, it had been a couple of months at least since the senior had had a steady. As he reached over to the table lamp to turn it off, his gaze fell onto the folder resting on one corner of his bed, beside his laptop. He hadn't seen much of the older boy since last term, when Ito Keita had transferred to the school and caused all that drama with the MVP battle. Keita had been Nakajima's last boyfriend before the First Year had moved onto the Chairman. Omi pursed his lips and then flicked the lamp switch, plunging his room into shadow.
NHSO/NHSO/NHSO/NHSO
Hideaki Nakajima's eyes narrowed when, upon following Tetsuya into the computer studies classroom the next morning, their first class for the subject that term, he saw Second Year student Omi Shichijo sitting in Tetsuya's usual chair - second from the back, next to the window.
Tetsuya had already noticed and was bounding over to the silver-haired half-Japanese boy. "Oi,Shichijo-kun. What are you doing here?"
Despite sitting in the sunniest chair in the room, the Treasury's Dog was still - as per usual - wrapped up in every possible school uniform layer: shirt, tie, vest and blazer. Probably was hiding a thermal layer under that shirt as well. Hideaki never understood how Shichijo could be so cold all of the time. A side effect of his sedentary computer-based lifestyle, perhaps. He vaguely wondered if his nipples were peaked from the cold even now. He watched the younger boy smile politely at Tetsuya and reply, in his quiet and placid voice: "I'm a student here with the Chairman's permission, Niwa-senpai."
"Seriously? I'm impressed," Tetsuya gushed, planting his books and laptop onto the empty window desk in the row directly in front of Shichijo. "How'd you get past Kurosawa? He's tough about rules, man." He leaned against the back of the desk chair, facing the half-Japanese boy, arms crossed, smiling broadly.
Hideaki, behind him, noted that if he was to sit beside Tetsuya, as he usually did, but now in the wrong row, he would have to kick someone out of their seat. His usual seat, right next to Shichijo, was empty however. He would have to suck it up and sit next to the rugged up Dog or sit on the other side of the room. After a few seconds deliberation, he went over to his usual desk, pulled out the chair, and sat down. He heard a few gasps and guessed, with a sneer, that the sight of him sitting beside his sworn enemy would be around the whole student body by lunchtime. With photographic proof to boot, undoubtedly.
He set up his books and laptop, half-listening to Tetsuya and Shichijo's conversation as he did so. All was as Kurosawa had told him last night by phone: Shichijo was here at the request of the Chairman and had stayed at the academy over the holidays just gone to catch up with the Third Years.
"So you stayed here and did a load of exams." Tetsuya chuckled. "Ouch! But good on you! I bet you found the school pretty quiet. Is the cafeteria still open during break?"
Hideaki frowned and prodded his slipping glasses further up his nose. He opened his laptop and resumed typing up his Politics essay. He wanted to get it done before Saturday as he had dined before with Gorou Kurosawa at gatherings with his uncle and knew that a lot of alcohol would accompany and follow the meal, possibly knocking him out for much of Sunday. He'd try to limit himself, but there were limits to personal limitations where family obligations were concerned.
A few minutes later, Kurosawa himself entered. Tetsuya was asked to take a seat and they began class. As Hideaki already knew, this term would be devoted to a group project. They would be divided into teams of two and each team would come up with and create a program. He and Tetsuya had originally agreed to team together, though they had yet to agree on an idea that they both liked. After what Kurosawa had told him last night, however, that was all about to change.
The class was devoted to explaining the project and a few examples provided of previous students' achievements. Essentially there were no limits. Apparently a few previous creations were now implemented in the real world: ATM technology, credit card chip technology, phone technology, database software… Hideaki listened interestedly.
As the class drew to a close, his mind was buzzing excitedly with ideas. He had already begun mind mapping a few of them on his computer and brainstorming who he knew in the real world who might be able to give him advice, resources and a practical focus.
"Nakajima-san. Shichijo-san. Stay after class, please," Kurosawa said then. "The rest of you are dismissed."
Hideaki packed up and approached the teacher's desk. Shichijo followed suit, standing a few feet from him, smiling that awful fake polite smile. Quietly, they watched the rest of the class file out. When Tetsuya passed them - last of all, his best friend slapped him on the shoulder and winked, saying with characteristic cheeriness, "I'll see you in the cafeteria, hey?"
"Sure." Hideaki watched him leave the classroom. The door slid shut.
"Nakajima-san."
Hideaki looked attentively at Kurosawa. "Sensei," he said politely.
The man smiled brightly at him. Not that he had much of an alternative, given that he was friends with Hideaki's uncle. Obligations went both ways. "As you know, Shichijo-san is a Second Year and may require extra support for the group project. As such, I want you to pair with him."
Hideaki pretended that the teacher hadn't already asked this of him over the phone. He blinked. Then he inclined his head. "As you wish." Straightening, and adjusting his glasses as he did so, he looked at Shichijo, whose face had suddenly become even more unreadable than usual. "Is this acceptable to you, Kohai?" he asked.
Shichijo smiled so falsely, Hideaki wondered that Kurosawa didn't call him on it. He couldn't imagine that any onlooker who didn't already know that he and Shichijo had a problem with each other, wouldn't know now. But apparently Kurosawa was planning on sticking to a mask of benign ignorance and amicability.
"Of course. Thank you, Nakajima-senpai," Omi said. Were his voice an implement, it would have been lethal. It was also probably the most words spoken together that Hideaki had directly heard from him in months. …And probably also the first time the Treasury's Dog had ever called him senpai. A thought striking him, Hideaki quickly reached into his pocket and took out his phone. He flipped it open. "What's your phone number?"
He revelled in the other boy's momentary hesitation. But in front of a teacher, especially a teacher who was unhappy with him, Shichijo had no alternative. As Shichijo began telling him, Hideaki entered the numbers into his phone. He kept his face straight throughout, but did needlessly ask the younger student to repeat a few digits just for the sake of enjoying Shichijo being pained to say them again.
"May I have your number?" Shichijo asked him then, after Hideaki had put away his phone.
"I'll prank you later," Hideaki replied, and savoured the disappearance of Shichijo's smile. He looked back at Kurosawa, who had turned away and was packing up his materials. "Kurosawa-sensei, will that be all?"
"Yes. Thank you, Nakajima-san, Shichijo-san. You are dismissed."
Hideaki bowed and left. Shichijo followed him. In the corridor, Hideaki noticed that Shichijo headed the other way from him. He wondered, smugly, if the divergent path was chosen deliberately, and then decided - his smile widening - that it had to be.
