Two: Lunchtime Escapades

"Kaoru! Don't leave me!"

The back of his head is already weaving through the throng of chattering teenagers, one arm looped casually over a resistant Haruhi. I sigh wearly. There is still another four people ahead of me in the lunch line. Kaoru has abandoned me the moment he notices Haruhi dancing after the Boss - a lunch tray balanced precariously in her arms and a packed lunch clutched desperately in his. I'm too hungry to skip lunch, and afraid of losing my place if I have to go fetch him. So, sullenly I scuff the ground, knowing full well Kaoru won't be coming back.

I wait for another inching two minutes. In clipped, harsh tones, I order my meal, bregrudgingly buying a second desert for Kaoru. I know he is hungry as well. Despite my annoyance, I won't let my little brother sit hungry. No matter how mercilessly I'll chew him out.

I'm so immersed in my annoyance at my brother - and at the bitter sting the direction of his attention was focused last period - that I don't notice her until it's too late. We collide, food trays flying, the food itself spilling onto our clothes and the floor like grotesque confetti. Slipping and sliding in the mess I topple and fall like a domino. To my dismay, she does as well, sprawling across my lap.

For a moment, I can't speak. I know it's her, the girl from the other day. And that thought stirs something in my chest, something confusing and frightening that I shove away.

She glares at me, long blonde hair falling in her face. Icy blue eyes glare out, fringed by dark, feathery lashes. Her face is small and petite, but angular - no trace of any baby fat left. Pout lips are quivering with anger, dark enough to match the brilliant flush brushing across each cheek bone. I take all this in in a moment, feeling as though we're trapped in our own bubble. The din of the dining room is muffled and unable to reach us. Anything that moves past us is undefined. It's almost like we're underwater, watching the suns rays float towards us.

"Watch where you're walking, you dunce!" she suddenly snaps, breaking the spell. The bustle of the room recoils on us, and I wince at the sensory overload. It takes about a split second for rage to creep up on me at her insolence.

"Watch where I'm walking?! You were taking up the entire path!" I retort angrily.

She recoils, nostrils flaring. Standing hurridly, she places her hands on her hips. I rush to meet her, glaring down at her tiny frame. Her eyes flash and glint, her hair angrily swept behind her shoulder. "That's ridiculous!" she shouts. "You ran into me, or are you too daft to remember?"

I glare, biting back the bitter remark that gnaws on my tongue. This is too preposterous to comprehend. Deep, deep down, I know she's right, but I'll be damned if I admit it. With an aggravated huff, I turn to stalk away, brushing a piece of food off of my uniform sleeve.

"What?" she demands, in disbelief. "Not even an apology?"

I turn back to her, jaw set. Who does she think she is?

"What's your name, anyway?" I ask.

Her eyebrows raise. "Claire. Claire Fairmount. Goodbye then, Hikaru."

And with that, she stalks off.

I'm left staring after her, again with that frightening feeling in my chest.

Later:

It's a cool, dignified afternoon. Outside, gold, red, and orange paper ghosts along the chilled breeze, whispering farewell to the skeletal trees. They scatter and linger on the paths and grass, emanating a sweet, pungent odor. They give promise of another autumn, of warm sweaters and quick nights.

Inside, we merry and entertain in the dappled afternoon sun's rays. Tea tables and couches are set up around the room, like little lilypads on a pink pond. Dust motes glinting in the sun dance around the ladies' skirts. A heavy aroma lightens the air, of tea and perfume and cake.

It's quiet in here. Calm. In the relaxed atmosphere, there is only a muted din of murmured conversation, laughter, and flustered giggles. Kaoru and I sit patiently. We are free today (which is unusual), and observe our surroundings peacefully. People watching is something we've always done. When we were children; it had fascinated us, seeing how people interacted. We used to wonder what their lives were like, make up stories for them. Now, we just watch. I don't think we could take the dissapointment anymore, realizing how mundane people really are - as opposed to the eccentric and wild lifestyles we'd concocted for them.

It's about a quarter past four when the door opens, and she walks in. Claire. I can't help a small, triumphant smirk as I watch her walk towards us - and feel it slide off my face as she brushes past us. She sits at Mori-senpai's couch, and begins to converse with him, smiling and giggling at his one-word replys. I can feel my mouth is agape, and my expression is tinged with anger and annoyance. But I honestly don't care. What the hell? I had expected her to come over here, maybe to apologize or critisize me for my rude behaviour, or at least glance at me. This wasn't going to happen.

I stand up, ignoring the glance Karou is shooting me, the perplexed liquid his eyes have gone. I can feel myself quivering with each step, and a seething knot throbbing in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't anything abnormal. My reaction was completely necessary; Claire was being very impolite to ignore me after bumping into me today, and not formally introducing herself. She ran around knowing my name (not to mention the startling fact she could tell my brother and I apart), while previous to lunch I had no idea who she was. And what was she doing with Mori-senpai? The guy didn't talk.

I reach them. Staring down at them, a hot pang goes through me as I realize she's ignoring me. I'm standing right in front of them, close enough so my legs are brushing her bright yellow skirt, and still she sits, talking animatedly to Mori. She's a pretty good actress, the way her hands move and her body is turned directly to him, but I can tell from the two bright patches on either cheek that she knows I'm there. I clear my throat. Still no responce.

"Hello, Claire," I say, perfectly civilized. After a moment, she turns, a fake smile placed on her face.

"Hikaru," she says, nodding. "Is there something you wanted?"

For a moment, I'm drawn a-blank. What did I come over here for? I couldn't very well tell her to get away from Mori-senpai. I'm not going to apologize, either. And, I dont' have anything else to say to her. In all honestly, I know nothing about the girl. I have nothing to talk to her about. But, something inside me can't let her go back to conversing with Senpai, either. It's not jealousy. It's just rude, on her part.

Thinking fast, I hear myself blurt out, "Would you care for some cake, Miss Claire-chan?"

And immediately regret it. The moment the words escape my mouth, a mischevious light illuminates her eyes. A smile crosses her lips, but this one is no longer sweet, or fake. It's frosty. Involuntarily, I shiver.

"No thank you, Hikaru. And I'd prefer it if you would not refer to me as 'Claire-chan,' at least until I've given you my permission to do so." She turns away, clearly dismissing me. I feel my face flush.

"Of course," I say, smiling pleasantly. As I turn around, something stirkes me. "You be careful now, Senpai. She just might knock you over and spill food all over you." A low blow, I know, and her gasp reinforces that. But I can't help feeling a little satisfaction.

I ignore the emotions she triggers. I ignore the way I respond to her, even though I've just met her. I ignore the fact that I want to let her in, because it scares me.

I walk out of Music Room 3 without a word.

A/N: So this is crap. Yeah, this is really terrible. But it is a Fanfiction for my friend, who Claire is based off of. Sorry if you hate, yo, but I was born this way. :P