AN: Alright, I'm not dead. Life has been CRAZY. I graduated, moved, got a job, and a whole lot of other stuff happened. (Most of it annoying and stressful) Working on everything, but it may be a little bit more time for anything else. Thanks for the support, I really appreciate it! And, to be honest, this chapter was a little difficult for me. And the reason should become clear once you start it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


Chapter Two

Sibling Devotion


Soujiro idly flipped through his math textbook, swinging his legs back and forth as he did so. Perched on top of his sister's desk, he barely took in the pages, instead listening to the students meandering through the halls. They chattered and complained as they walked by, each rubbing at their eyes and discussing the abrupt end to the weekend. Ten minutes before class would begin, and the halls were full of babbling teenagers in matching uniforms. Lockers slammed, laughter drifted, and Soujiro hummed softly under his breath.

He'd grown up in this town and nearly all the voices he heard he could put a face and name to. A sharp nasally voice sounded and he knew without a doubt that it was Melinda, a bleach blonde bitch who had stolen his sister's stuffed cat in the third grade. A male ran by the open classroom doorway and he recognized Chip, the sophomore class's representative. The kid was denser than a rock, and had a brain the size of a walnut. Straightening his tie, Soujiro ran a hand through his hair and stretched his arms over his head. Glancing out the window behind him, he shut the textbook and gave up even the pretense of studying.

His sister had even warned him well in advance that he should look over his notes. He had nodded and said he would try, but even he could acknowledge that the attempt was a poor one. Soujiro didn't really need to study, but he wouldn't tell his sister that. She tended to ignore the fact that test taking was relatively easy for him. Even if it was Satan administering the exam.

Ms. Mandrel, the math teacher, always asked the most ridiculous questions. He could tell that she enjoyed stumping her students, took pleasure in making them squirm and fret. She was a vindictive lady that seemed to have something against anyone under the age of thirty. And with her frumpy grandma-sweaters and graying hair, he didn't blame her for hating his image obsessed peers.

His sister had managed to get Mr. Johnstone for her college algebra class, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. The man showed a film twice a week for God's sake. He could have caught up on his napping while a video more appropriate for someone half his age showed. His sister sure as hell did.

Soujiro cocked his head to the side as a locker slammed. No, the slam wasn't right. With all the stuff crammed inside there was an audible crunch whenever she shut her locker. Although he had walked with his sister to school, she had needed to take a detour to the administrative office and they had parted near the entryway. Their mother had changed their emergency contact information (again) and the school needed to be notified. The two of them had flipped a coin and like always, she'd lost. She'd shaken her fist, stuck out her tongue, and cursed him out under her breath as she'd walked away. He'd stifled a laugh and waved mockingly.

In the last year his sister had had to go to the office four times because of their mother's antics. He rolled his eyes at the thought of the woman. If she would just stop being so picky, it would save everyone in their family a lot of time and energy. Every time she decided on who would be notified in the event of an emergency, she almost immediately decided that they wouldn't work. They wouldn't be there for 'her babies' like they should. It made him cringe internally. At seventeen, he didn't consider himself an infant. Not that he'd ever tell his mother that.

Still humming, he inwardly rolled his eyes at the thought of his mother. She could be indecisive to a fault, then as hard-headed on the next issue as a bull. He was glad that neither his sister nor him had been cursed with such a wishy-washy attitude. She changed lawyers, cars, and jobs like most would clothing. Her hair had been bobbed, permed, and braided in just the last six months. He wasn't even sure how his father put up with her. Hell, at times he wondered if her devotion to his father was the only thing that remained constant. She even went through love/hate phases with her own children. It made his jaw ache. It wasn't that he didn't care for his mother, even though she wore bright make-up and low cut tops, her actions though were simply so we-

"Soujiro!"

He shook his head to clear away the straying thoughts. It wasn't often that he was so easily distracted. In fact, he prided himself on his focus. It was frustrating to find himself turning into a scatterbrain like his sister.

"Geez are you even listening?"

His sister stood in front of him, hands on her hips and scowling. Her hair, pulled haphazardly back, fell in a dark wave over her shoulder. She gave it a disgruntled flick, and tugged at her uniform while she waited for him to respond. He stopped his humming, and let a wide smile cross his face. She hated the girls' uniform, and was constantly trying to lengthen the skirt through sheer will power.

Hopping down from the desk, he eyed her with a level gaze. With him only topping her by an inch, the two of them were nearly eye level with each other. He tilted his head to the side, knowing how much she hated even that inch of difference. She saw competition in even the most minor things. However, despite his slight advantage, the two of them were shaped remarkably similar. Soujiro was slighter and smaller than the average manly-man, and his sister was slim and boyish. He supposed their similarities were even more enhanced because they were twins. From the shape of their eyes to the tilts of their chins, anyone who looked at the two together could easily see that they were related.

"Misao."

She turned her blue green eyes to him and grabbed up the errant math book, pushing it into Soujiro's opened backpack. There was no reason to keep it out anymore. They both know that he wasn't truly studying. His own eyes, the same shade as his sister's, flickered across her clearly disgruntled features.

"Don't you Misao me! And stop it with the creepy smile!"

He saw her hand rising but didn't move to stop it. She playfully smacked him across the back of his head. Soujiro felt his smile droop into what he knew she found a more comfortable expression. Misao was one of the few people he'd make an effort for, even if he didn't like to admit it.

"Whenever you make that face I feel like my brother has turned into a freaking doll or something!"

'That face' was a term she'd started applying to him only a few months ago. And from its appearance, it was obvious that she wasn't comfortable with it. Numbness often came with it, washing out colors and making him feel oddly detached. He hadn't been a particularly 'smiley' child, but now he couldn't seem to stop smiling. Misao hated it.

"Look," Misao leaned in conspiratorially, changing the subject, "I need your help."

She wiggled her eyebrows and he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. He let himself go still. She couldn't possibly be asking what he thought she was asking. Just the thought of it was ludicrous. They were always careful about when and where they did it. One wrong action could lead to not only disaster, but unanswerable questions. Not only that, but if their father found out, the two of them would be in a ridiculous amount of trouble. He was smart enough to know that Father would be less then lenient. And in an empty classroom before school? No fucking way.

He could tell that she was gauging his reaction.

"I know, I know." Misao took a seat on the desk and he slid up next to her. She leaned forward into her classic distressed pose. "I forgot Mr. Smithbret's project on my desk."

Her voice was miserable, and Soujiro knew exactly why. Misao was struggling in the advanced French class, and Mr. Smithbret seemed to have it out for her. She was constantly docked points and was struggling to simply pass the class. 'The Project' was a fifteen page essay in French that she had been working on for weeks. She had been determined to wow the teacher, to rub a good paper in his face, and Soujiro knew that she'd pulled several all-nighters in an attempt to make it perfect. He'd helped her edit it, and could say that it was an exceptionally well written piece of work.

"I thought it was due tomorrow?" And if he remembered correctly, it was.

Her voice dropped and got a little scratchy. She was trying to stay calm, but he was sure that she was stuck between the urge to scream or cry. Her legs kicked back and forth in agitation.

"It was, he sent out an email this morning asking the class to bring them in." She let her head rest on his shoulder, "Some sort of scheduling mistake he says. But I didn't check my email until I got here."

He felt the corners of his mouth turn down slightly. Although Soujiro really wanted to smile for some reason, he fought the urge. He glanced down at the top of her head, her dark hair tickling at his nose as he did so. Making his mind up quickly, he pulled one of her hands into his own.

"Just this once, okay?" His voice was still level, but he'd hushed it to a whisper, "And father and mother can't know."

She pulled away slightly then, glancing up with a disgruntled expression.

"Well, duh. You know me better than that. I can guess what father would say, and I know that mother would tell father."

Misao rolled her eyes, and Soujiro watched her look at their intertwined hands. She didn't thank him for agreeing to do it, but he didn't expect her to. The two of them leaned on each other, and Soujiro knew that if he had needed her to do it- she would have without question. It was something beyond a normal sibling connection he supposed; it was if he was literally a part of her. At school they kept their closeness private, neither wanted to deal with the other children's cutting remarks. It still happened occasionally, a raised eyebrow or obscene phrase. Most ended up with a black eye or broken nose. Both siblings weren't against using violence.

He pushed himself up and started across the room, pulling her along as he traveled. She followed without complaint. The two of them had to find a place that was more secluded than an empty classroom minutes before class was about to start. Considering that this was already an awful idea, Soujiro was determined to do what he could to keep it from being incredibly stupid. Misao tended to rush in, and a level head was needed to keep their secret safe. Trudging down the hallway, he steered them around the loud students that crowded the junior hallways. The halls were harshly lit, and the overwhelming amount of yellow and black brought to mind a hive of bees.

Most of the students ignored them, or watched them briefly before turning their attention elsewhere. The noise was piercing, grating, and Soujiro automatically tuned them out. Although usually Misao would stop and chat with friends, she nodded but did not pause. It was a strong sign that she was frazzled.

A tall man walked by them, completely focused on something else, and her feet caught on the floor as her head swiveled to follow his movement. The man continued on his way, his tall height, dark jeans, and white T-shirt completely out of place. Older than the students, his dark hair hung heavily over his eyes as he moved to a particular locker. Soujiro fought the urge to twist his mouth in disgust over his sister's reaction. That obsession he simply did not understand.

"Kaoru must be sick." Misao's voice barely carried to his ears, and he had a feeling she was probably talking to herself and not to him. He silently agreed with her assessment. He didn't know the girl well, but was well aware that she missed class regularly.

Spotting a location that would be suitable, he quickly looked around, then pushed the door open and tugged Misao in after.

Walking past the grey lockers and a half undressed male track team, he didn't look back to see her reaction or hear their exclamations of surprise at the appearance of a female. He knew that she would have gotten an eyeful before looking away in embarrassment, and most of the males would dismiss it out of fear of bothering him. Soujiro was aware that he didn't have the best reputation among the other guys. Girls tended to see him as slightly feminine and approachable, but guys seemed to see something else entirely.

However, Soujiro was just as sure that right now Misao would be glancing back once the shock had worn off. She was curious to a fault. He almost wished that she would take an interest in one of their fellow high school students.

"Enjoying the view?" He asked casually, hearing her annoyed sigh at his words.

"Could you have at least warned me?" Her voice was caught between exasperation and aggravation.

Soujiro turned back towards her and took in her flushed cheeks. He wondered if the redness had been caused by the nearly naked men or the man from the hallway. The image of the man flashed in his mind, and he tried to push it firmly away. Now was simply not the time.

"Come on, we don't have much time."

Pulling her behind him, he tugged her into the handicapped stall. As he did so, he heard her make a noise of revulsion.

"Soujiro…this is disgusting."

Raising an eyebrow, Soujiro pulled the door shut, fastening the metal latch so that it would stay closed. Turning back to Misao, he watched her wrinkle her noise and hold herself as far as she could from both the toilet and the mint colored metal walls. It was true that the place wasn't exactly sanitary, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he tried not to smile at her expression.

"Let's hurry up."

He purposely drew her mind back to the matter at hand, knowing that she was easily distracted. Sure enough, his sister seemed to forget all about the filth they were standing in. She looked over her shoulder as if someone was scrunched behind her next to the toilet, and then whispered nervously,

"I don't know, maybe this is a bad idea." She twisted her hair in her hand, "If Father finds out he's going to be sooo angry."

Soujiro knew that he wouldn't just be angry. His sister had been lucky enough to never see their father truly worked up. But Misao had toiled over that stupid paper, and he wasn't going to let some vindictive asshole of a teacher ruin that out of petty spite.

"It's fine." He watched her go still. Soujiro had a feeling she was more nervous about forcing him to do something he didn't want to do. Father was a force to be reckoned with, but she was spoiled and often received more lenient punishments. With a nature that tended to be on the side of bullying, it was a sign of seriousness when she wasn't pressing for her way.

"Really?"

She watched him from beneath the heavy fall of her bangs.

"Do you want to be late for class? Or perhaps you were enjoying the view?"

He kept his voice light and teasing. She let out a huff of annoyance and grabbed at his right hand. Soujiro could hear her mumbling quietly as she did so, with words such as 'idiot' and 'freak'n paper' barely audible. Letting their palms connect, he shut his eyes.

Focusing on where their hands met, he felt a sizzle in the back of his chest. It flared up quickly, like it usually did, but Soujiro's heart still made a slight leap. Misao's heartbeat began to thud loudly in his ears, the sound so familiar that he scarcely noticed it. A slight humming started just under his skin, and he shivered at the tingling sensation. He had asked Misao once before how it felt to have so much magic just sitting inside of her without a way out, and she had shrugged and responded, 'I don't know, okay I guess.' If she experienced even a tenth of what he sensed when he had the ability to use the magic stored up in her, he would have gone crazy after only a few short hours.

"It's on your desk? You're sure?"

With his eyes closed, he didn't see her nod, but felt a thrum of annoyance from their link. On his brow he could feel sweat accumulate quickly, and he tried to mold the magic consciously as their father had taught him. Forming it quickly into a pattern that would do as he wished, Soujiro let the magic roll outwards from his skin in a sharp burst. Next to him, Misao leaned in closer, her body trembling slightly.

His other hand jerked as it reflexively clenched at the papers that appeared there. Slowly letting the magic go, he felt it drain from him and reenter Misao. She didn't react to the energy, but continued to rest against him and gather her bearings. He waited until she stiffened and stood up, shaking her head. Her eyes were bright and goose bumps had appeared on her arms. With their hands still connected, he could feel her through their link, her relief at him agreeing and the slight thrill in doing something she shouldn't. He dropped her hand and the feelings drained.

Instantly his body ached, yearned, he could feel it straining for the magic that lived in her veins. He shrugged his shoulders, trying to shake off the feeling, and smiled.

He offered her the papers and she grabbed them. Flipping through them, the grin on her face exploded.

"Yes, Yes, Yes!" She half shouted. Throwing her arms around Soujiro she jumped up and down in excitement.

A bell sounded and she stopped.

"Shit, I'm going to be late." She turned from him and fiddled with the lock, "After school?"

He nodded. She had driven them to school and was clearly curious to know if he still needed a ride back. It was true that he often took to wandering after class, but today he needed to be home incase his father figured out what the two of them had done. Someone had to take the brunt of that man's anger, and he would rather it wasn't his sister. Misao rushed out, racing from the locker room as if the devil were at her heels. He hoped she made it to class; Mr. Smithbret awarded those who were late with detentions and belittling comments. Soujiro didn't want to have to wait for her, nor did he want to hear her bitch about the tongue lashing she'd received.

He exited at a slower pace, idly passing by those who were now changing for gym.

"Hey," the voice that called out was instantly recognizable. Soujiro turned and raised an eyebrow, his grin spread.

"Yes, Cole?" the tall sophomore was new to the school and had quickly secured himself a place on the football team. Wide in the shoulders and with a constant half-stoned expression on his face, the kid had rubbed Soujiro the wrong way from their first meeting.

"That was your sister, right?" He slid a shirt over his head, "What were the two of you doing in there?" Cole smirked, "She seemed awfully happy."

Soujiro stopped at the words and was aware that all the other students had frozen too. Most people had learned early on to leave the two of them alone. In fact, students knew that while Misao would knock a person around for a rude comment, Soujiro wouldn't hesitate to really hurt someone.

Around him most people filed out for class, a few of them hesitating by the door and darting a quick glance back. Unlike most arguments that drew crowds, Soujiro knew that those who messed with him often were soon deserted. He watched them go with a slight smile once more on his face, and paused briefly at the last person who stepped past him.

The kid was obviously new, only a couple of inches taller and with hair like blood. Wearing the school uniform, he followed another kid who was clearly trying to show him around. He eyed Soujiro oddly, and Soujiro felt his body inadvertently tense. The red head only paused for a moment before walking on, but Soujiro could feel the new kid's eyes on him and it made his smile freeze. That kid… something about that kid really bothered him. He'd have to ask his sister later if she knew anything about the new guy, but for now he had more important things to focus on.

He turned back to Cole, who watched the exiting students with confusion. Idiot didn't have any idea that he'd stumbled into the lion's den. More fool him.

"Cole," Soujiro spoke in a light tone, "I'll only say this once. If I hear you say something like that again, something bad may happen."

He made a tsking noise like that for a small child and watched the bumbling idiot's face grow red. Soujiro glanced at the watch on his wrist, he couldn't be more than five minutes late for class or Ms. Mandrel would send a note home. His mother would tell his father about it, and that was something he'd rather avoid.

Though Cole didn't look particularly comfortable, he laughed aloud at Soujiro's words and took an aggressive step forward.

"You stupid shit. You think you're so cool with your big shot dad and your big shot house." The words were spit out.

"This is the last warning you'll get." He unbuttoned his cuffs and started to roll them up. No way would Cole listen. They never did. He saw the surface, two spoiled siblings who had a 'nice family' a 'nice car' and were 'good students.'

"Whatever, she's not that hot but if you wanna fuck your sis-"

The boy didn't get the chance to finish his words. In fact, for the next few minutes he didn't say much of anything. He made a few blubbering noises, which Soujiro had expected, before making a noise similar to that of a squealing pig. The sound of flesh meeting flesh stopped abruptly. Cole hadn't even bothered to try and defend himself, had been too slow to do much of anything really. His nose was broken and Soujiro guessed that some of his ribs were cracked as well.

Soujiro turned away and walked over to a nearby sink. Quickly washing his hands, he looked in the mirror at the boy that lay stunned against a far locker. The kid's face was a sickly white color and blood covered his shirt and face in blotches.

"You'll tell the nurse you slipped and we won't have to have another discussion, okay?" Soujiro smiled widely and watched Cole tremble for a moment before nodding.

Humming again, Soujiro exited the locker room and checked his watch. He had two minutes to spare.


AN: What's that? You want to review? Feel free!