This is a test. I'm posting this first little bit to see how (if?) anyone likes the plot.

This is nearly AU. It's not based in the original Gakuen Alice world, but it still takes place in Tokyo. *points at title* This first chapter is actually an introduction. To call this long piece of crap a prologue would be ridiculous, so it remains categorized as generally: Intro. Not that it's long.

So I'm taking Gakuen Alice for a realistic spin. You'll see what I mean by the first chapter (the true one) when (if?) I get there. But that's about it. Nah. That is it.

Introduction

He could move his fingers.

Natsume vaguely sensed the alice restraints cascaded skillfully over nearly every inch of skin. It was in the suit, the gloves, and the cuffs strung so tight around his wrists, blood welled up under the skin in bloody bruises ringed in yellow and brown. Even if the inhibitors within the bondage were linked throughout fabric and chain alike, he could not even touch upon an insignificant amount of the awaiting pain. They'd shot him up with some sort of needle before chaining him down in this interrogation sector, deliriously woken numb to three foreign faces. He'd expected Persona, Kuonji at least.

But these were kids in suits with glistening special-star ranks. One, clearly the supervisor, stuck close to the door with his sunglasses over his eyes. It was Toji. One familiarly hidden face he could recognize. Toji possessed a teleportation alice, one or two star at most. That, Natsume figured he could have handled, but only if he had managed to break free of the restraints wrapped around his ankles. And even then, there would be outside elite guards, and the effects of the serum slowing him down would be hell. A first escape from the Academy had taken planning, weeks, months of strategically placed steps. But maybe. Maybe with Luca it would be possible to chance it twice.

No! Natsume grit his teeth. Dragging Luca into his screw up would be selfish, even if the fool would risk it in a heartbeat for him, least of all her. He watched as the taller one stepped up, lips twitched up into a sardonic grin, and decided this was better than Luca dead. He was safe in sect Som., far away from the clutches of the Dangerous class. Natsume knew he had been the only one caught.

It was better that way.

"Bitch," a whisper shot against his ear before his head smacked against the table. The numbing syringe blurred the pain he should have felt, but he could taste the grainy blood in his mouth from biting his tongue. Natsume glowered at the boy's back as he laughed. The voice was distinguishable, irritatingly so. No one else had a pitch that sounded as if they'd surgically skewered their vocal cords and strung them so tight the tone barely fell below the sporadic squeak from a trapped rat.

"Akeo," the tall boy warned him lightly, his frown small and brow furrowed in annoyance. Akeo turned, revealing the same pinched face and easy smirk Natsume had seen wide-eyed and struck still weeks ago like a frightened doe when the sharp point of a knife traced a pretty picture into his skin. Natsume mentally sketched the scar that trailed at a diagonal slash through his left eye and stopped just at his right cheek. The skin was no longer split in two and running blood like tap water, but the damage had been deeply enough inserted to leave him an ugly, ruddy colored puckered scar.

"My bad." Akeo's silver eyes danced across Natsume's face as he grinned. "Interrogation, blah, blah, blah. Then we beat the shit out of him."

Natsume laughed quietly, goading the madness filtering over Akeo's eyes as a cloudy shine. Months before, arriving here, Akeo had been consistently angry, and sickeningly cruel when he dealt with any student even tempted by the word of "freedom" outside the Academy. Now, Akeo would drag out his death if he could manage to conceal it. By accident, Natsume knew his body would be mangled beyond humane restraint if someone did not step up to hinder Akeo's anger. That was why Hajime was there, between the shadows of the door and wall in the corner, face obscured by gauzes when he suddenly appeared, his white dressing ghostly under the trembling fluorescent light. Akeo's enraged lunge froze, his face suspended pale and taunt with fear. Natsume had never much bothered with the D-sect operatives, even when he'd had reason to as a respectable member before. It was common knowledge Hajime kept to himself, and never angered easily unless teased to the point of snapping. Death was common concerning their sect, accidents mere rumors when a body could be hidden. There were too many names to count that had been thrust under the deceased archive in under a day when the situation intermingled with Hajime's personal agenda. Persona never questioned his actions, and Kuonji steered clear of the matter entirely. Hajime was one of the rare feared of, even in their class.

Akeo shrunk away, but took to glaring at Natsume from his position against the wall.

The taller boy that spoke next introduced himself as Isi and Natusme instantly grew aggravated with his tight tone. He sounded as if he had a stick inserted somewhere unpleasant, and his nasal accent was irritating to listen to for extended period of times. But Isi speaking kept the other three silent, even Akeo, who seemed about ready to extend his fidgeting hands and strangle him. Natsume sat still and observed their jumpiness curiously. If Isi had an alice that sparked tenseness within even Hajime, then the alice might be a three star, maybe a special.

The thought unnerved him.

"Mikan Sakura is of primary interest to the Academy." Natsume's attention snapped to Isi's quiet face. "Ah," his smile slithered up into a grin, "that received your attention."

Natsume bit his tongue and met Isi's gaze without falter. Nothing, say nothing. He had to keep his mouth shut. But he could feel it. His jaw shook as he fought with the sudden want for motion of his mouth. Isi had just revealed his alice.

"Nerve manipulation. Yes." Isi grinned again, a visual habit that ignited a fresh anger within Natsume as he stood perfectly erect, hands clasped in front.

They had created the perfect Academy clone.

"I can't exactly control you, unfortunately." As if performing an experiment, Isi lifted a finger and Natsume lurched forward when a sharp pain exploded in his side. Akeo chuckled, but Isi held up a hand to shush him. "They informed me of your...mulish behavior regarding pain. Not many can burden the magnitude of my alice. It should be an interesting race between us."

It began like a burn, a throbbing itch just below his knee before the agony ignited under his skin again. Natsume flickered in and out of consciousness as the pain obliterated his senses, first in his legs, then his arms as he thrashed. The chair groaned under his torment. A nerve ending exploded beneath his temple so quick, Natsume barely registered the action of lashing out to the side so hard the floor below his foot obliterated into a cloud of black ash.

The throbbing underneath his skin subsided to a dull thrum. Natsume lifted his eyes, taking slow, shaky breaths in with each little gasp of air. All four Dangerous class operatives watched him with wary gazes, attention divided between the crater in the floor and Natsume's face.

"Get out of my damn body," he growled.

"Mikan Sakura escaped from the haven this academy provided," he began as if nothing had altered the atmosphere, as if Natsume Hyuuga had not just thwarted the restraints locked around his legs. He could feel the burn; no doubt his skin mirrored the effects from the red scorch mark pulsing against his calf. Full body restraint suits reflected an alice when used. A bad idea that had proved useful.

"She spurred a foolish rebellion as cause of her actions. Three other students also fled. Others we're sure were influenced and even assisted the rebels." Isi appraised him with a distant gaze now. "What are your thoughts on this Mikan Sakura?"

Each D sect boy remained attentive in his direction. Isi's black eyes drilled into Natsume's forehead when he looked at the floor under his feet, the spot now tainted black from a fire he should not have been able to create. They were going to kill him when the truth finally revealed itself. Either torture that knocked him senseless or a carelessly placed clue would expose everything. But their understanding was pathetic, striking uselessly at shadows in the dark and flailing threats around a lead that would convey to them nothing.

For just that he was going to die.

Of Mikan Sakura, what did he think? The nullification girl with an affinity for patterned panties. Oh, what indeed.

What. Exactly. Did. He. Think?

The thought brought a smile to his buzzing numb lips.

"She's lucky."

Akeo's fist was the unanimous reply.

:-_-:

Anyone could have materialized at the unguarded door. Natsume would not have cared. The numbing effects the syringe granted him had begun to slowly ebb away an hour ago. Akeo had lost his awareness of control entirely, and Natsume could barely sustain himself upright without reeling from the bruises and cuts throbbing with every twitch the attack had left him with. Akeo's alice was strength. Wounds Akeo inflicted took twice the time to heal, and his ribcage seemed particularly irritated that Natsume dared to even breathe.

The bonds around his hands and legs supported his sagging self bit by agonizing bit as he slipped in and out of conscious thought. He almost feared that he had indeed died or fallen asleep when the door slipped open with a slight creak, and a booted foot stepped through. The face was one he recognized. Natsume nearly let himself fall into a small smile, but his common sense struck the friendly gesture stiff.

It was Koko.

You shouldn't be here.

Natsume nearly growled the statement. But Koko paused in step toward him, sensing the thought instantly. The permanent smile on his lips grew slightly tight. They both knew it was a foolish thought to ponder when they had both been there the day Natsume was captured. It was ironic. That same day, suffering the same cruel fate. Koko laughed, the amusement eerie in the white-walled box, alone.

He tilted his face slightly, and Natsume finally noticed the scars. There were three of them on his left cheek. Three perfectly drawn jagged cuts were etched into the smooth skin. The claw like precision was similar to the work of an enraged cat.

Sumire.

Spurred by love, huh?

Koko smiled a rueful, dark little smile. Sacrificing themselves had proved lethal. Koko and Natsume now faced each other, wedged between a crossroad of life and death. Both of them were going to die, they'd been sure of that before the rebellion. But the Academy was not yet finished with the two of them. They were just going to push, and pull, and prod until their final connections to Mikan Sakura were husks wrung dry.

Koko strode closer.

They want answers.

Natsume stared at Koko, wondering when he had learned to project his thoughts. It would make sense that Koko had hidden the ability for years. The Academy would have extended the testing on his brain, paralyzing what little freedom he possessed as a simple one-star to the core. You hate the Academy.

It was personally impossible for Koko to side. His want for Sumire to be cut loose was obvious, but Natsume was sure he had risked his life for something more than that. Koko's smile fell at the accusation. It was a thick, hallowed feeling that assaulted Natsume then. He had never been close to Koko. He was no Mikan. She had brought them all together with her oblivious nature. Her smiles and warm innocence even under constant watch had led them all astray the Academy path. She had born the rebellion by simply existing.

Koko allowed one last smile.

I'm sorry, Natsume.

It was the final thought for either of them before Natsume's conscious shattered.

Hmm. Yeah. About those OCs...sorry for anyone who hates OCs. I personally hate them as well. They're always perfect beef cakes or knock-outs with dark pasts and and overwhelming amounts of empathy. But the birthing of them was...necessary.

Let me know what you thought. Or just...meh.

This was just a random idea.