A small tint of magic hung in the air the moment Ja'far stepped inside the school. His senses sharpened at this feeling. He knew where this was coming from: his clothes. But as he had not found them after losing them the other day, someone inside the building must've found them before he had. His hands clenched into tight fists. His magic wasn't something a normal person could start to play around with.

The feeling was faint, showing that whoever was in possession of this power, did not use it. Whether they did not know of the power they carried with them or kept their new found strength a secret, Ja'far didn't know. It didn't matter anyways. He had to get his things back before the city would fall apart.

Lost in his thoughts he passed class A's room.

"No, I'm telling you Sharrkan-" Ja'far looked up as he passed the open door. He knew that voice. Class A's Sinbad if he had remembered correctly. The guy brought nothing but trouble, someone Ja'far loved to avoid.

"You found a bag with clothes in an alley. That's not special, Sinbad." That was Sharrkan, one of Sinbad's close friends and another person Ja'far couldn't stand listening to.

"But look at these things. I'm telling you these aren't normal." From the corner of his eye, Ja'far saw a bag in Sinbad's hands. His bag, the bag that no one was supposed to find. How did it get in the hands of this idiot?

"H-" Ja'far wanted to call out the guy, but he got interrupted by a sudden hug.

"Ja'far!~ Good morning!" Pisti said. "What are you doing, staring into class A like that?" Her gaze followed the way Ja'far was turned to, eyes widened the moment they spotted the target. "Sinbad?! Are you for real Ja'far? I thought you hated that guy."

"I do and we should get to class Pisti. Not stare at other people." He said and turned around to get to his own classroom. It didn't matter if he couldn't speak to him now, he most surely would have a word with the man today.

…

"Give them back."

Sinbad looked up from his desk, noticing the gray haired guy next to him. He remembered that gray hair, it was the same as he had seen sitting in that café. Right, he knew that pretty face. How could he forget Ja'far. The mysterious one in all classes.

"Give what back?" He asked.

"My bag with clothes, I know you have it."

"Clothes? What are you talking about?" Even if he did know, Sinbad doubted he would give anything back this easy. Not when this particular guy was involved.

"I heard you talk with Sharrkan this morning and those clothes you found in the trash are mine. I want them back." Ja'far leaned over the desk, looking Sinbad straight in his eyes. This was serious matter and the purple haired man should understand that.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Sinbad said and slowly pushed the clothes deep in his bag. "And what if I have them and give them to you? What would I get in return?" A smirked formed on his face, making Ja'far shiver in discomfort.

"Nothing. It's not like you did me a favor by finding them. I'll get them back no matter what. It'd just make it easier for both of us if you'd return them right now." He walked away again to his own desk, cursing softly under his breath as he pulled out the books he needed for his class. He could hear whispers coming from Yamuraiha, which was exactly what he didn't need in his life. What was seen by Yamuraiha would be told to Pisti and that meant that this would end up being understood by everyone. And that was something he could not use on top of the situation.

…

A week had passed and Sinbad was done with Ja'far attitude. The same applied to Ja'far when it came to Sinbad. Any class Sinbad had with him turned into a small disaster because a certain someone wanted his clothes back so desperately. In the beginning Sinbad thought of it as a way to tease the guy first. Even though Sinbad could not find a reason to keep the clothes in his possession, giving them back to Ja'far only meant he would never speak to the guy again. So Sinbad refused when Ja'far requested his bag. Something that lead to things Sinbad had not seen coming, but slightly enjoyed. Ja'far would yell at him, destroy his projects or take his homework away from him, hiding it in places Sinbad couldn't find. Much did it not bother the older man. He never did his homework and his projects were usually enough for a low grade, another failing grade didn't matter to him. It only made the teachers mad. Ja'far was swift in his actions, not leaving a trace he was sabotaging Sinbad.

But Sinbad liked it. He loved getting attention, even if it was the bad kind for now. Sharrkan was on his side, he knew that. But that guy had no idea what this fight was even about. To anyone outside this conflict seemed like a stupid quarrel. It had looked that way the whole week. But now, something had changed.

"You are going down, stupid A'ers." Pisti yelled inside the classroom before entering her own.

"Yeah, well you're just jealous you can't be in this class." Sharrkan responded, his voice louder than Pisti's. Sinbad sat between the two, groaning as he heard them calling out to each other. How it had happened, he couldn't understand.

Ja'far however knew exactly how it had started. It was Pisti, just like he had thought she would. Rumors spread and his attempts to get back what belonged to him were thrown back into his face. People had started to pick sides during the time he had talked to Sinbad. Class A was on Sinbad's side and class B had somehow picked Ja'far as its leader. What bothered Ja'far the most was the fact that neither sides knew what the fight was about. All because little Pisti did not care to listen in on their conversation, something that surprised both men.

Pisti knew Sinbad was interested in Ja'far. And now, with them fighting, she had used the quarrel to spread her rumors further into the school. The sound of whispers echoing through the hallways filled her with joy. But even the plotting queen had to pick sides one day. And she of course chose for her own class. Hell, she even followed Ja'far wherever he went, calling him her 'general' as a joke. Her friends followed that teasing, but teasing grew into something bigger. A war.

…

The next time Ja'far tried to approach Sinbad, he felt the rest of his class standing behind him at a small distance. Even though he wanted to enter the classroom, slam his hands on Sinbad's desk and drag him outside to finally get his things back, he was unable to do so. The doorway was already one step to far. He felt eyes stare at him. Mumbling voices and whispers about how Ja'far was the worst and should just return to his hell.

"Sinbad, can talk to you one minute?" Ja'far asked, his question quickly overruled by uprising commentary.

"Are you going to call him out for a fight?" There was Pisti. Ja'far knew she wouldn't be too far away.

"I am not. I just want to ask him something." 'I'm not fighting him yet' Ja'far thought. But if Sinbad would refuse for a longer amount of time, he would find a solution on his own.

"You shouldn't bother talking to someone from A. Just stay to your roots general Ja'far. B will always be better." Pisti said as tugged at his sleeve.

"Maybe." He muttered as he walked out of the doorway. He didn't hate class though. But Pisti was good at manipulating and right now he could not approach Sinbad at all. He heard laughter coming from inside the room and without doubt Sinbad was looking at him, enjoying his victory.