Chapter Two: A Little Push
"Okay, so, starting from this point, one-two-three, and left-right, left-right, left, then—"
"I know the tea lounge is empty, but could you two kids not dance behind the counter?" a highly amused but annoyed voice inquired from behind them in sharp Mandarin. The two teenagers jumped in their shoes before turning their attention to their boss. Mei wore a sheepish grin on her lips while Leon's expression was mostly unchanged. "I'm afraid that something would break even with your quick reflexes, Leon, and I'm the one who trained you."
"Sorry, Sifu," Leon apologised wholeheartedly as he bowed his head politely.
"I think I'll forgive you if you tell me how your show goes—although I still think you should be studying instead of monkeying around," the Chinese man mused aloud as he stepped onto the main floor of the bubble tea lounge he manages. Originally, it was supposed to be just an ordinary tea house, but Leon, Mei, and Cheng managed to convince the entrepreneur to "keep up with the times." When he started selling bubble tea and cakes and other little pastries instead, his tea lounge saw a surge in popularity, and so the previous summer he had hired Mei and Leon to help him run the establishment. He would have dragged Cheng onto their sailing business ship as well, but the Macanese boy was already hired as a tutor for some of the elementary and middle school students.
"I told you that we would have it recorded, didn't I, Shī fu? You can't leave the tea lounge until you find a manager for this shop like with your restaurants," Mei retorted, ignoring the last part of his comment, in her faintly accented Mandarin—her tongue more used to Taiwanese pronunciations. Like Leon, the Taiwanese girl had taken to addressing the Chinese man as a teacher. Although he was a bit naggy, the two of them did have some respect for how he managed to conquer most Chinatown without being accused of monopolising the competition; not only that, but he was also an elder they were kind of obligated to respect. "Tsukomi from Lien's class is going to help us mix the songs and record the dance."
Osaka Tsukomi was a teenage boy around Mei and Leon's age with hair dyed a light brown and golden brown eyes. Like Mei and Leon, he was a typical trendsetter, especially among the Asian population at school, but he was also quite talented in mixing, recording, and producing music. He once admitted to Mei that he did in fact have Megurine Luka's and Gumi's voice banks (since he preferred Luka over Miku) when they bonded over their love of Japanese pop culture.
He worked a part-time job manning the sound deck at some concert venues because he was trying to earn money to buy more equipment, such as male voice banks for another one of his upcoming projects and a proper microphone for his transition into covering songs. Although he was already rather popular on the Japanese side of YouTube and NicoNico Douga, he was still ambitious yet quite friendly, so it was no wonder why people usually take a liking to him after meeting him in person. Leon doubted that there was anyone who didn't like Osaka.
"Watching it in person and virtually are two wholly different experiences," Yao protested sharply and then announced that all of them should get back to work, and both Mei and Leon sighed in relief when he left. Sometimes, Yao could be a little overbearing.
"Have you decided on what songs we're going to use?" Leon asked his friend shortly once Yao was out of hearing range. It was a blessing and a curse that their boss was going senile.
"We're going to combine different covers of 'Senbonzakura' together," replied Mei with a wide grin. "Like starting out slow with the ballad version so we can incorporate some ballet and ballroom, and when they least expect it, pop in the original with some traditional dancing incorporated with hip-hop elements, then to the jazz version for the instrumental break, and we switch back to the original before fading into the ballad for the ending. After that, we plan to end our show with MBLAQ's début song."
"Are you sure you want us to cover a dance from a Korean boy band?" Leon asked of his Taiwanese friend. Honestly, he didn't mind dancing to a pop song in general as long as the song wasn't as annoying as others when looping and replaying, but he would rather not have a certain international student from Korea go on about how their dance group was supposedly representing his country when they really were just dancing for the hell of it. (He wouldn't admit it aloud, but he did accept that some of the groups were pretty good dancers.) Of course, he guessed that they would also risk the chance that Yong-Soo would also bother them if they weren't going to perform a Korean song. He knew that not everyone in their group—except maybe for Cheng because he had the patience of a Saint or even Kasem because he was pretty cheerful himself—could handle the bundle of energy known as Im Yong-Soo.
"We might as well," Mei persisted as she settled herself in front of the cash register, "since they're usually energetic dances. 'Oh Yeah' is a pretty upbeat and fast-paced song. The dancing isn't half-bad either."
"I guess," Leon finally conceded. "The song just gets, like, crazy annoying after a while. Well, all pop songs do." A moment passed before a familiar chorus flitted through his mind repeating nothing but the same two words all over again for the entire hook. "Great. It's stuck in my head."
Waving off Leon's complaints dismissively, Mei then glanced over at her friend and asked, "Are you fine with taking all of the fan-service parts though? We kind of pushed that on you, after all. We could always cut it out if you're uncomfortable with it."
Shrugging casually and rather nonchalantly, the Hongkonger answered her shortly, "Yeah, sure, I'm totally fine with it. Like, it only lasts a few seconds anyway, and, besides, it's no secret to the world that I'm devilishly handsome—even more than the dancer that pulled it off in the music video."
At that, Mei rolled her eyes but didn't bother refuting his statement. It was pretty much the reason why they had volunteered him for the shirt-lifting stunts pulled off by the main dancer in the original choreography that would expose his pretty damn well-built abdominal muscles. Since Leon had a pretty Asian boy image at school rather than the stereotypical smart Asian kid, they were planning to exploit it whenever they had the chance if it meant that it would attract more potential club members—even if it risked a detention or two for indecent behaviour because Leon would technically be almost stripping. However, Mei and the others didn't really consider that what Leon was planning for his own grand finale would probably land them a week or two in detention, so he kept it to himself. Everyone was sure to enjoy it anyway—or so he thought.
"More like," Leon continued, "I'm surprised that Cheng doesn't get that nauseous when he's spinning upside down on his solo bit."
"Maybe we should take out some flips then," Mei suggested sheepishly, seeing that it was her choreography that was responsible for the safety of her friends.
"No, seriously," Leon insisted, "it's cool. I mean, since Cheng isn't, like, vomiting or whatever, then it's fine. Plus, with a few practices, we'll be able to nail all of the flips near the end. We just have to time and coordinate everything properly. I'm sure after the twelfth time, you won't end up kicking Lien in the face or tripping her feet by accident."
"Gee, thanks," responded Mei sarcastically. Shifting her attitude, she hummed to herself merrily and mused, "I'm looking forward to this. You seem pretty excited, too, Leon." Even at the mention of his name, the Hongkonger was rather deadpan.
"Not really," replied Leon shortly. He leant his elbows against the counter and sighed. "If a customer doesn't walk through that door in the next ten minutes, then, like, I'll seriously take my lunch break and leave."
Hardly anyone comes at this hour, he couldn't help but think to himself. After all, most students are caught up in extracurricular activities at school or working at some other joint in town if they're not loitering around. Most office workers have already had their coffee run and lunch break as well. It was busiest during holiday seasons and over the weekends, but since it was Monday, of course nobody wanted to show their face. Even Leon wanted to go home and sleep.
Because it was Monday, Leon was sure that something would come along to ruin his plans as well. Not only did he have a piling mound of homework even after the first day back to school, but a customer just walked into the tea lounge. Mei giggled at his poor luck, and Leon only rolled his eyes in response to her amusement. "Mr. Køhler," he greeted his guardian's close friend politely even though his facial expression, again, didn't change to match the pleasantry for which he was aiming. "What brings you here?"
"I just wanted an iced coffee on my way back from work. I just ordered a bunch of ingredients for a new type of bread I'm trying out," the Dane informed him shortly with a wide, amiable grin on his lips. Arthur never really explained how he had become friends with a "Great Dane" who worked one of the best Danish bakeries in the neighbourhood. Mathias Køhler left quite an impression on others though. For instance, even as he was reaching forty years of age, his hair was still as unruly as a lion's mane, and his blue eyes were just as bright and friendly as they've always been since the two of them first met ten years ago.
Leon used to think that the two of them had met in America when Arthur had relocated to New York from London, but it seemed as though Mathias and another odd man named Gilbert had known him before then. It was only when he was in middle school that Arthur had explained to him that he used to be in a band with Mathias and Gilbert; that was equally hard to conceive as the fact that he's met Mathias and Gilbert before when he was like four or five years old. Well, to be fair, Leon didn't really remember much about his childhood, and the first time he had admitted that to his guardian's colleagues, he recalled how their faces had darkened into some kind of pity or sympathy he couldn't exactly distinguish. He was sure that there was more to their knowledge—something they knew that he didn't—but he didn't call them out on it.
"Actually, can you make that three iced coffees?" the Dane asked sheepishly. "I've got two nephews staying with me now. They just moved here, so I figured I'd treat them as often as I can to make them feel more at home."
Mei rung up his order, asking if he would like some tapioca pearls (to which he answered yes for the two extra coffees), and gave him his total, which he paid in cash. After giving him back his change, Mei kicked Leon into the back so that he could help prepare the coffee.
Mathias raised his phone and snapped a picture of a deeply focused Leon, who was working on the orders while Mei manned the cash register, so that he could boast to Arthur and Marianne that he was served their son's infamous coffee. Once he finished with the three drinks, he placed them carefully in a cardboard cup carrier and then served them to Mathias. "Thanks, Leon," he praised the Hongkonger. "Arthur and Marianne must be really proud of you." With that, Leon saw off the customer—the last one before rush hour.
"Hey, Lukas! Emil!" Mathias' obnoxiously loud voice rang throughout the apartment—much to the disdain of their neighbours—as he loudly shut the front door with the heel of his foot. Skilfully, he locked the door with a single hand while balancing the drinks in the other. He shuffled into the living room and placed the three cups of iced coffee on the wooden table he had bought from his cousin, a designer and carpenter who's been offered a job at IKEA a few times. "I've got something for you!"
"Whaaat, Anko?" groaned the twenty year old young man half Mathias' own age as he stepped out of the corridor leading to the two bedrooms—one for himself and the other for his youngest nephew. The violinist, on the other hand, was staying at the dorms though he was currently visiting his brother. The sixteen year old followed behind his brother, and his eyes curiously gauged the living room for the gift their uncle had allegedly brought home. "Coffee at this hour?"
"I've still got paperwork to do tonight, checking on the inventory and stuff," Mathias explained shortly, "and I thought that, if you guys were up studying late, then you could probably use the caffeine, too. It's from this tea lounge in Chinatown. The kid who works there is my friend's boy. Maybe you know him, Emil; Arthur says that he attends the same school you do—same section, too."
"Just because he goes to the same school and is in the same section as I am doesn't mean that I know him," Emil protested as he collapsed on the sofa in the living room. Under his breath, he mumbled in Icelandic, not wanting to speak in English more than necessary, "Besides, it's only my first day here, and the schools are divided into more emphases."
"Come on, maybe you do know him! His name is Leon!"
At the mention of the familiar name, Emil blinked. "Leon?" he repeated.
"Yeah, Leon Kirkland," the Dane confirmed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "He's got blond—nah, that was last summer, wasn't it?—is it red now? Or did he go back to brown hair?—well, he's Asian and pretty damn stylish for a kid. I think he's a dancer or an actor or something cool." After pulling up his photo albums, he thumbed through his recent photos and pulled one of the person to whom he was referring. "Ah, here it is! I sent this one to Artie to tease him about missing out on Leon's coffee!"
Turning around his phone in his hand, he displayed the image to his youngest nephew, and—sure enough—it was the Hongkonger who had saved him earlier today. Instead of the school uniform, however, he wore a black polo with form-fitting trousers that had the logo of the tea lounge printed over the right side of his chest. "He's... in my class," Emil confessed before taking the cup with the puffin in his hands, "but I don't see him in the conservatory often." Well, he supposed that it was because Leon was a dancer, so he was in a different floor and wing than Emil, who was being trained in piano.
Eyeing the content of the cups curiously, he was mildly surprised to find that the beverage contained melted ice cubes and dark, candy-like drops stacked at the bottom. It was certainly unlike how he usually took his coffee—warm with minimal milk and sugar and without any... candy—probably. "What is this?"
"It's called bubble tea, a thing from Taiwan that's pretty big in Asia. The chewy candy-things are called tapioca pearls, but Leon says that the bigger ones are called boba," Mathias answered shortly. "I didn't even know what it was until Leon explained it to me. The kid's pretty active in exploring his own culture; he practically lives in Chinatown. I think more teens are there at the tea lounge than old men like me though, so it was kind of embarrassing buying something like this. Leon and his friends say that the best favour is milk tea, but I figured you guys would appreciate coffee a little more than tea."
"Thanks," Emil muttered under his breath. He watched as Mathias took one of the three straws, the thinnest one as the others were wider in diameter, and pulled it out of its wrapper, stabbing the pointed end through the plastic cover of the cup. Grabbing one of the two remaining straws, Emil did the same and stabbed it through the cover. He shyly brought the straw to his lips and took a sip of the coffee—finding it sweeter than what he'd like. It wasn't bad though... until one of the chewy pearls went up his straw. He nearly swallowed it whole without chewing, but when he caught it between his teeth, he found it no different from gummy candy—if only a bit bland. Am I supposed to be eating or drinking? Emil mused to himself. Nonetheless, he quietly accepted the gift and retreated back into his room to continue with the mathematics homework his class was given today.
At the memory of what had happened to Leon in maths class—being called out by the teacher—Emil couldn't help but laugh quietly. Maybe New York wasn't too bad, after all. Sure, it was a pretty heartless city where the naïve flocked to fulfil their dreams only to end up being cruelly trampled like the scum underneath the sole of one's shoes—especially during rush hour—but there were a few things to which Emil could look forward.
"For some reason, my backpack is like crazy heavy today," Leon mumbled under his breath as he joined Cheng and Mei in their home room class. After taking attendance and making some important announcements, the students would be dismissed to attend the classes for their emphasised study—sciences, humanities, or the arts. Leon's caramelised honey eyes flitted over Emil's shrinking form before he set his backpack atop his desk.
"You should know what's in your backpack," Cheng pointed out, "since you're the only one who touches it. I doubt Matthew would mess around with your stuff."
"So then it's Alfred," Leon concluded shortly as he undid the flap and pulled the drawstring to widen the opening. "I mean, I leave all of my shit inside." Unless he had homework, Leon hardly ever touched his backpack. He carried the same things day in and day out, so it made no sense as to why it would suddenly feel like it weighed a few kilos heavier. Cheng and Mei were quick to crowd his desk, just as curious as the owner of the backpack himself. His eyes peered curiously inside the bag before widening in surprise and a slight panic that was rare of him to display.
"Ah!" Mei exclaimed rather loudly, attracting all of the attention in the room. Fortunately, Leon and Cheng guarded the source of her distress for the most part. Three pairs of eyes focused on the little white fluff-ball with a single light grey patch of fur over one of her eyes. She meowed, and everyone stilled. Mei cleared her throat and tried imitating the sound to throw off their classmates even though they were already certain everyone noticed the bundle of surprise in Leon's bag.
The Hongkonger then pulled out the little culprit and scolded her lightly in Cantonese, "Xiulan, what are you doing here!?" This wasn't good. Xiulan wasn't a quiet little kitten so to speak. Normally, she was well-behaved, but when she was especially vying for attention, she tended to be rather loud and playful. Leon lost count of how many times the covers of his bed were shredded (usually because he forgot to clip her claws) when she wanted to play with her owner.
"Leon," Mei addressed him hurriedly with eyes that were lost between wanting to cuddle the kitten in his arms and scolding her friend. She quickly followed with a question in Mandarin, "What is your cat doing here?"
"I don't know!" Leon replied just as quietly in Mandarin. Although most of their classmates were of European descent, there were a few of Asian ancestry, and he couldn't be sure of who knew and who didn't know Chinese. His eyes lifted to the door, and a flood of relief washed over him when he saw that Mrs. Edelstein hadn't walked through the door just yet. "She probably crawled into my bag when I wasn't looking—or Alfred put her there as a joke." He pressed his lips against Xiulan's dark forehead and apologised in Cantonese as he placed her back in the bag to hide her from prying eyes, pulling the drawstring lightly to leave her some breathing air. "Mei, Cheng, I'm going to, like, skip home room. I'll be back at lunch—maybe."
"Leon!" Cheng exclaimed before he continued their Mandarin conversation, "Where are you going?"
"Home! Marianne is at her office, and Arthur is at his studio! Alfred and Matthew are at school, too, so all I have to do is, like, sneak out and pretend that nothing happened!" Unfortunately, nothing could possibly go as planned. Just as he was about to step through the door, Xiulan poked her head out of his backpack, nearly attracting the stares of his classmates, and meowed. Leon froze and decided to hold her in his arms instead, bolting through the halls with his head bowed so that nothing could see his face. He slipped out through the back, but just as he was about to bolt over the fence, Xiulan slipped out of his arms. "You are in so much trouble," he grumbled in Cantonese as he followed after the sound of her bell.
He knew he'd be a fool to try and chase after her given the kitten's superior agility. The best he could do was trying to trap her, but—although he wasn't quite sure of her breed—Xiulan was a particularly clever kitten as well. He wasn't so heartless as to leave her alone though; moreover, he was already so attached to her. Even Arthur and Marianne were fond of her. It was the first time Leon had ever asked them of something anyway; it was the first time he ever made a request.
When he had found her fishing out of a garbage can, he took her to a nearby fountain to help scrub the waste and filth off her fine coat. Something about her reminded him of someone he vaguely remembered—maybe himself. He honestly didn't know. Nonetheless, ever since then, she had taken to him and began to follow him around to the point where Leon had actually swept her into his arms and took her home. They've been together for how many months now? He could hardly count.
He followed her to the back of the school and even farther to the point where they were away from the high school entirely. He found her frolicking in the garden, the top of her pointed ears and the tip of her tail hardly even visible as she leapt into the colourful flowers, and chuckled.
"What? So that's it," he mused to himself. Unable to find it within himself to take her into his arms and keep her locked inside their home, Leon settled on a bench across from the flowerbed in which she was playing. A gentle zephyr blew past them, shaking the blades of grass, the leaves of trees, and the stems and petals of flowers. The warm sun beat down on him, and he soaked in the rays of light. Closing his eyes, he gently breathed in and out, focusing only on the ringing of Xiulan's bell. "I should to get to class before Arthur finds out," he mumbled to himself in Cantonese. "But whatever." His thoughts slipped away from him, and darkness surrounded him.
Even Xiulan's bell seemed to ring even further and further away, sounding distant yet, at the same time, close to him, before he couldn't even hear anything else at all.
The smell of Chinese food filled the room with the thick scent of soy sauce, fresh vegetables, and frying meat. He could feel his mouth watering the more he smelt the cooking; in a sense, it was quite homely. It reminded him of when Marianne came back home for a few hours to prepare dinner for the family before leaving to finish up her work. Instead of Chinese cooking though, she normally prepared French food and degraded her husband's sense of taste—or lack thereof. However, this smell wasn't quite like the kitchens at Chinese restaurants. There wasn't any loud shouting or any rush. This was leisurely and carefully prepared.
A light humming then floated throughout the room like a light breeze, tickling Leon's ear. A radio was playing, and he vaguely recognised the song as "Tong Hua," an old pop ballad but a classic and a sensation, nevertheless. He remembered playing it to Arthur once after hearing it play at one of Yao Wang's shops, and the Englishman had taken to the upright piano hidden away in his private home studio, where he also housed three different guitars and bass guitars, an electric keyboard, a sound deck, and a desktop that was installed with mixing and audio editing software. He also remembered his guardian trying to teach him as well once he had mastered the Chinese pop ballad, and Leon could still easily recall the positioning of his fingers against the black and ivory keys. Ever since then, Arthur taught him to play some piano and guitar, insisting that music was in his blood.
He lifted his hands, only to freeze when he saw that they were smaller than he had expected. It was as though he was a child again, and when he raised his head, his light brown eyes peered into the slightly curved screen of a box-shaped television he never remembered seeing in the Kirkland home. None of the furniture present has ever been seen in the Kirkland home.
The television was playing an episode of Spongebob Squarepants that happened to be dubbed in Cantonese, and he could hardly make out his reflection against the glass. When he did, he found himself as a child. Reeling in his shock, he nearly missed the sound of the door being opened, and before he could even raise his head to glance over the person who had just entered the scene, a lukewarm box was placed into his tiny hands. A big hand ran through his short, feathery hair, that Leon found to be quite distant even though he was so close, and a deep voice told him in gruff Cantonese, "Happy birthday, kid. Eat up while they're warm."
Leon glanced down in his hands and peered through the plastic cover of the take-away box to see four large steamed peach buns. His stomach growled in response, making the man laugh as he marched into the kitchen, and Leon pulled open the cover of the box.
"Xiao Chun!" he heard a woman call for him. "Don't you dare eat those buns before dinner!"
"It's fine, Chun-Yan. Food is food," insisted the man from before.
Peering into the kitchen from where he sat in the living room, he saw two shadowy figures—far away and distant. He felt as though he knew them, yet at the same time he didn't. They were familiar, but they were also strangers.
"Hey, wake up."
Leon's eyes fluttered open only to stare into a pair of crystal clear violet orbs—like slivers of quartz and amethyst—and blinked once. The Icelandic boy was some distance away from him, and it took the Hongkonger a moment to realise that he was still sitting down on a bench while the newcomer was standing in front of him. His amber optics fell to his arms, where he found his kitten being suspending in mid-air because the Icelander was simply holding her underneath her forelegs. She meowed at her owner, trying to bat her tail against his classmate's wrist, squirming in discomfort.
"What, you don't know how to hold a cat?"
His classmate's brows furrowed together as though he was thinking long and hard about something. Noticing how he seemed to be biting his lip, Leon assumed he was reluctant to speak. More reluctantly than shyly, he responded slowly, "There's a proper way to hold a cat?" It sounded as if he was trying to keep his English in check, trying to speak cautiously, so that he wouldn't make mistakes. However, his accent bled through his words, and the colour that climbed up his neck, painting the tip of his ears, could only signal that he was embarrassed of how foolish his classmate thought he sounded. It was only a fleeting change, however, and after his silent, momentary chastisement, his Icelandic classmate stole a glimpse at Leon to gauge his reaction. Unfortunately, the Hongkonger remained completely indifferent.
Leon stretched out his hands, and the Icelander handed over his tiny little kitten carefully so that there was no scratching or biting involved. "Her claws are clipped," Leon teased playfully upon seeing the Icelander's nervousness, "and she's usually well-behaved. But, yeah, there's seriously a proper way to hold a cat when you're establishing trust or, you know, whatever. She's cool with me." Setting Xiulan down beside him, Leon then demonstrated how to pick her up. He first wrapped one hand under her body, flat against her rib, and another supporting her rear. "You can't leave her suspended." He then adjusted his arms so that his kitten's back was supported in his arms. "When you hold her, you have to support her back and paws."
When he felt Xiulan pawing him and adjusting his hold on her by herself, he allowed her to shift so that he was carrying her like a baby. She rested against his chest, her rear being supported by the crook of his elbow. With his free hand, he patted the seat beside him, and the Icelandic student reluctantly joined him. "It's lunch hour," the Icelander informed shortly. "It didn't look like you were coming back."
"You seriously looked for me?"
"Not really, I guess," the Icelander answered curtly. He averted his eyes and shrugged. Feeling Leon's pointed stare, silently demanding an explanation, the platinum blond gestured towards the flowerbed and their surroundings. Keeping his tongue in check, he explained cautiously, "I just like this garden. I found it yesterday during lunch break."
"Hm, so you ate by yourself."
"Is there a problem with that?" He looked affronted, and given his sharp, snappy response, Leon could only guess that he had forgotten to think about his words. The Hongkonger preferred it that way, actually. It was more refreshing, more relaxing, but he didn't say a word about it to his classmate. Who was he to tell someone what to do?
Instead, he replied curtly, mimicking the same tone his classmate had used earlier, "Not really, I guess."
He reclined against the back of the wooden bench and allowed his kitten to climb all over him. Just as she was carefully strutting along the back of the wooden bench like a tightrope, she leapt towards his classmate's shoulder and settled there, meowing lightly. He seemed bewildered by her sudden actions, but the blond didn't shrug her off his shoulder. He raised his hand and scratched her between her pointed ears with the pads of his fingers. Leon watched as Xiulan purred in contentment, finding the sight quite a mystery knowing that she was only really attached to her owner (though she does take a liking to beautiful things from what he's noticed). Finally, he asked of his European classmate, "Do you like it here—I mean, like, New York?"
"It's... okay."
Leon scoffed lightly in a form of laughter at his awkward response. "I think I seriously hated it here when I moved to America, too. Now it's, like, okay, I guess." All of the faces he's met flashed through his mind. "Once you make friends or something, everything gets a little better."
"You're from... Hong Kong, right?" the Icelander asked of him.
"Mm, yeah."
"Why did you move here?"
"Oh, I was adopted." A bit of shock crossed through the Icelander's visage, and shame filled his eyes as he tried to cover up his last question in order to pacify the tension he thought was there. Leon only laughed at this, however, and added, "It's cool, man—seriously. Like, don't sweat it. If I had a problem with it, I wouldn't have even told you. Hell, I don't even remember half of my childhood. Anything before age six? Gone. Seriously, I don't mind it, so you shouldn't either."
Rather, Leon was used to that reaction. He wasn't a problem child or a troubled teen, so he didn't really understand why everyone had to be sympathetic to his so-called plight. He was doing all right. He didn't know if he was happy, per se, but he certainly wasn't miserable in New York. What threw him for a loop, however, was when his classmate mentioned, "I don't have parents either; they're dead."
Leon blinked. "Huh." It wasn't really a question. It was more of a sound that had acknowledged his classmate's words and reaffirmed that he didn't know how to be sympathetic. "Same here." At least your parents stuck around longer, Leon added silently. He wasn't sure if his classmate had received that message though.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Leon felt his stomach growl loudly in dissent, and the Icelander only arched a fine eyebrow at the noise when Leon's free hand moved idly to rub and assuage his stomach. "You hungry, Ice?"
"'Ice'?" repeated his silver haired classmate dubiously. "Are you talking about me?"
"Since you're from Iceland."
"What's with that? That's kind of a half-assed nickname," remarked the taller teen.
Leon found that he preferred his rougher language as well instead of the polite pretence he had been using earlier. The Hongkonger supposed that he thought that there wasn't much of a need for the taller boy to hide anything from him—even the accent he seemed to dislike—but most people behaved similarly after exchanging a few words with Leon anyway. They appeared to sense that he wasn't the type to blab to others about secrets—any secret at all.
Observing his classmate even more closely, he found that a realisation had crossed the taller teenager's mind, dawning upon his pale features, before he inquired dryly of the shorter boy, "You don't know my name, do you? I'm Emil Steilsson. I sit in front of you in class."
"I know you do," Leon retorted brusquely. However, he didn't make a point of not knowing Emil's name, implying that he really didn't remember his classmate's name. Lifting up Xiulan so that she faced the taller student, he waved her right paw and said, "So, Emil, this is Xiulan, and I'm Leon."
"I knew that already—who you are," Emil muttered, brushing off Leon's words rather shyly despite the rough attitude he bore like a front. He faltered, unsure if he wanted to say anything more, before averting his eyes from the Hongkonger. "Do you want me to get you some food?" he asked the brunet sitting beside him. "Since you're hungry. You can't take her into the kitchen either. Probably."
"Nah, it's fine," the Hongkonger assured the pale boy. When another stomach growled, however, he couldn't suppress the smirk that crept onto his lips. Standing back up, he cradled his kitten cautiously in his arms so that she wouldn't slip away from him. He nodded his head to gesture for the Icelander to follow after him. "Let's grab some lunch."
"You can't take her into the cafeteria," Emil protested.
"Who said that we're heading to the lunch room?" retorted the East Asian. He pivoted on his heel and took a few steps away from his classmate. When he saw that the Icelandic boy was still seated on the bench, confused as hell, Leon sighed and called to him, "Come on, Ice! They're waiting!"
"'They'?" repeated the paler of the two sceptically. Nevertheless, he brought himself back to his feet when he heard his stomach growl loudly. He didn't question exactly what the Hongkonger was planning, nor was he sure that he had enough trust placed within the brunet to follow him anywhere. Still, Leon had saved him once from getting mugged by a group of thugs in an unknown place, so he supposed that the Hongkonger wouldn't try to get them into trouble.
Emil silently followed the Hongkonger away from the main building towards the Romulus Conservatory with mild bemusement. After all, the cafeteria was located within the main building, not any other of the branch schools, but he followed him inside nevertheless, curiosity piqued when he heard some music leaking through a few rooms, before stopping when Leon halted in front of one of the doors on the first floor. The platinum blond could feel the vibrations of heavy bass that could hardly be contained within the room, but without an ounce of hesitation, Leon pulled open the door with a single hand.
The sound of runners squeaking against the floor silenced, and the pop music was suddenly killed. He was now aware that Leon had brought them to a dance studio with mirrors laid on one wall and floors panelled with wooden planks. Recognising one of the two girls in the dance studio as Mei-Ling Lin from class and one of the two other boys as Cheng Wong, Emil felt somewhat discomfit in the room—unused to the tension of a dance practice. Everyone's attention was immediately focused on Leon, but he didn't seem bothered (even though he and Emil were the only ones still in uniform whereas everyone else was in gym attire for dance practice) as he should be as he shut the door and set down his kitten to let her roam freely within the studio floor.
He strolled over to a corner of the room and dug through the plastic bags before tossing Emil one of the treats he found—wrapped bread. Bringing it to his nose, he took a little whiff, finding it to be rather sweet. Still, he couldn't complain; food was food. He glanced over at Leon to thank him for the bread and found that the Hongkonger was already digging into a sweet bread of his own. "Ice, you probably already know Mei and Cheng. That's Lien and Kasem. They're from the class next door," Leon informed shortly in between bites of his sweet bread—still calling him by that annoying nickname. "Guys, this is Emil. He helped me with taking care of Xiulan."
"I thought that you were taking her home," Cheng mused.
"She ran off."
Laughing amiably, the older boy turned to Emil and gave him a warm smile. "Thanks for dealing with Leon. He can be a little overwhelming at times since it's a little hard to figure out what goes through his head," Cheng told his quiet classmate. "He's quite energetic as well even if it doesn't seem like it, so it makes it even harder to keep up with him."
"Are you, like, insulting me?"
"Of course not," Cheng replied teasingly.
"Why would we ever make fun of you?" Kasem followed up shortly. "After all, you're the most popular one here, Pretty Boy."
Leon rolled his eyes but didn't make a comment since Mei was quick to speak and bring everyone back into focus. "Anyway," she chirped, clapping her hands together energetically, "Leon, I finished choreographing the ballroom part, but we still need to practise it!"
"Then let's practise," Leon suggested casually before he finished the rest of his bread. "Ice, you can, like, just take a seat and make sure that Xiulan doesn't get into trouble or something." He dropped the empty wrapper back into the plastic bag and marched towards Mei, stretching out his hands. She huffed but accepted them nevertheless, pulling him to the centre of the room. When he saw Lien, Cheng, and Kasem shuffle out of the way, crowding around the bag of snacks, he asked of the Taiwanese dancer, "Is it just us?"
"Yeah, I think it'd be more dramatic if we partner up in the beginning. Plus, we're an odd number," Mei replied. "The others are on stage right with their backs turned to the audience. We'll move towards stage left. You start off in a group with the others with your back turned. Then when the first key plays, you turn around, and I enter from stage left. Starting with the first note, we approach each other. Lien, can you play the music?"
The Vietnamese girl obliged and marched over to Mei's iPhone. Pulling up her music and surfing through all of the play-lists, she finally found the piano ballad Mei wanted to use and counted down from three. After hitting play, Mei began to walk Leon through the steps, taking the lead herself and telling the Hongkonger to keep up. In response, he was highly receptive to Mei's moves, adapting to her every turn and her every step, from the tip of her toes to the tip of her fingers and to the incline of her head. Once they had gone through the motions several times for the introduction, they had Lien rewind the song once more, and from the very top, they danced again without stopping.
The first few moments, the two seemed to glide towards each other, and once they had joined hands—Leon's right hand resting on Mei's hip, Mei's right hand resting on Leon's shoulder—it seemed that they would never part. When Leon stepped back, Mei stepped forward. They glided side to side, spun once in an elegant movement, and when Mei was twirled under their joined arms, Leon was quick to bring her back to his side lest she travelled too far away. Their legs intertwined, and Mei was lifted off the ground. It was like they were gliding, like their feet weren't even trapped on the floor, so fluidly, so gracefully.
They were beautiful. Emil couldn't tear his eyes away from the pair. He hadn't even realised that they had danced for hardly even a minute until Kasem commented that it was such a shame the intro was only around forty-five seconds long.
"They have some great chemistry," Cheng whispered to Emil when he saw that his classmate was stunned by what he had witnessed. "They've been close ever since I've introduced them to each other—music, fashion, bubble tea, and now dancing." The taller student seemed to be amused by this notion—if not a little prideful for his accomplishment. "Leon didn't really open up much until he met Mei."
"I wouldn't be surprised if the two of them had gotten together," Kasem added.
Emil, unsure of how to respond to this, muttered quietly, "Is that so?"
Whereas the other boys didn't seem to take notice of his rhetorical inquiry, Lien cast him a glance before stopping the song. Mei and Leon then approached the others and immediately asked for feedback—well, Mei did. Leon just settled down next to the bag of snacks, seating himself beside Emil, and pulled out a bright red box with chocolate coated biscuits pictured on the front—Pocky, the platinum blond read to himself—as well as an unopened bottle of water. He tossed the drink towards Emil, who caught it clumsily in his hands even though he was only a couple of centimetres away, and the Icelander only mumbled a thanks under his breath. He wasn't sure if Leon had heard him, but since the Hongkonger offered him one of the chocolate coated biscuits, Emil was fairly certain that he didn't really care.
"You know," Leon said as he uncapped his own water bottle, "you're welcome here any time if that garden gets too quiet for you. Mei and Kasem can get a little loud, but, like, if you're lonely, then why not just come here for lunch? We're here everyday for practice."
"Don't just assume that I'm lonely," retorted Emil. He wouldn't admit it aloud even if it was true though. "But... thanks... again."
Leon shrugged nonchalantly and replied, "There's nothing to thank me for, you know. Nobody here hates you or anything, so you're always welcome here." Resting his back against the wall, Leon allowed for Xiulan to climb onto his lap as he thought aloud, dropping his voice to a whisper as though to utter a secret only meant to Emil's ears, "I mean, when we were dancing earlier, Mei told me—in Mandarin—that she totally thinks you're cute."
His voice was just as monotonous as ever, and his expression hardly even changed when he had told Emil about Mei's thoughts. He only seemed the slightest bit amused when he caught sight of how red the tips of Emil's ears were. "Are you sure you should be telling me this?" muttered the Icelander as he buried his head in his arms after pulling his knees to his chest and making himself appear smaller.
"Are you seriously embarrassed?" Leon mused.
It's not that I'm embarrassed, Emil protested quietly. Rather, he wondered how Leon was taking the news. After all, Cheng and Kasem had mentioned that the Hongkonger and Taiwanese girl had chemistry, and that must mean that the two of them were particularly close. If what he said—about being... cute (though Emil refused to believe it)—was to interfere with their relationship in any way, he wouldn't want that. Although he couldn't say definitely, from what he's witnessed and experienced, Leon couldn't possibly be a terrible person.
"You two seem close," Emil commented.
"Mei and me?" Leon inquired sceptically as he considered the Icelander's remark. "I guess. We've been friends for a long time. I know what she likes and what she hates—for the most part, that is." A devious smirk stretched across his lips in what would appear to be a lazy grin, but despite the deadpan delivery of his words, the mischievous spark in his eyes what all that he needed to express his amusement. "You interested? She's cute and tiny, so it's not like it's the first time anyone's hit on her."
Emil's head shot out of his arms as he glowered at Leon with reddened cheeks upon hearing that playful taunt. Although a part of him knew that his classmate was most likely joking with him, he couldn't help but feel a bit affronted with how he was lumped together with people who have "hit on" Mei; surely, he had a little bit more class than that! "H-How—how could you say that?" he spluttered out brazenly. "We've only just met!"
He wasn't quite sure how to react when Leon's hand slapped over his lips to hide the wide grin that was splitting his face in half. He turned his head away from Emil, hiding his expression from the taller boy, but the fact that his shoulders were shaking was rather blatant. The first question that crossed the Icelander's mind was, "Is he laughing at me?"
When a loud burst of laughter filled the studio, resonating off the walls, Emil stilled while Leon was nearly rolling on the floor. The Hongkonger was holding his stomach as though it would implode within his body, and the taller boy couldn't exactly see what was so funny. Even the others had stared at Leon like he had grown a second head; it must have been strangely uncharacteristic of him to laugh so loudly and so uncontrollably. Once he finally calmed down, Leon cracked a smile at Emil and explained curtly, "Your face—it looked like you were witnessing a puppy being kicked or something. Come on, what I said couldn't, like, be that bad."
"It's not that it was bad," Emil argued. "It was kind of like..." he faltered, trying to piece together what he wanted to say and how to translate it into English. "...like, 'Who do you take me for?' or something. I was surprised you would even suggest something like that; to anyone else, it would have felt like you were implying how... how shallow, I guess, they were or something."
"Like, you don't have to worry about that or anything, you know?" Leon retorted as his smile slipped back into its usual half-hearted smirk—as though he couldn't even put in effort to smile. "I mean, I kind of, like, figured you wouldn't be the kind of guy who'd ask out a girl in a heartbeat or whatever. Like... you'd probably be attracted to someone at a glance, but you seem to be the type who wouldn't jump into a relationship. Slow and steady wins the race—or, you know, whatever."
"Thanks... I guess."
"Oh, yeah," Leon recalled shortly. He dropped his voice lower so that nobody could overhear them. "It's your skin, by the way."
"What about my skin?" Emil replied just as quietly, becoming a bit self-conscious as he felt his physical appearance being touched upon as a topic of discussion.
Of all people at the school, he felt as though he was the strangest looking student in the entire population. Several students were of African descent, others were of Spanish or Latino descent, some were of Asian descent, and most were of European descent. However, where others had blond or brown or even red hair, Emil was the only student to have platinum blond hair so light that it nearly looked silver or white—especially under light. He was also freakishly pale as a result of living so far up north that he hardly even bothered himself to get any sun when it was out and shining; recently, people have began to wonder if he was actually albino as well.
"Mei likes the colour," Leon replied shortly. "I can see why, too. Asian girls have a thing for pale, flawless skin. It has to do with history or a cultural thing, I guess."
"History?" Emil found himself repeating, his interest and curiosity piqued.
"Yeah, like, back in the day, only the rich women stayed indoors while the peasants worked the farmland, so they were tanner than the nobles. Pale skin somehow became a beautiful feature since you were pretty much shut inside the palace. I guess, like, all the princesses were pale or something. I dunno."
Emil wasn't sure if being compared to a shut-in or a princess made him feel any better about his complexion, so he didn't respond to Leon's explanation. Instead, he said, "Oh."
"Yeah." The Hongkonger shrugged once more. "No worries about Mei though. She totally sees you in, like, a feminine light or something."
"...what's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, I guess you're kind of girly."
Emil narrowed his eyes at Leon in distaste, unsure of how to respond, until he mumbled, "At least I'm taller than you."
Leon huffed, unable to refute that statement, retorting, "I'm totally manlier than you though. I know martial arts—and how to dance."
"How is that even relevant? Girls know how to do that, too!"
"Hey, Leon, Emil!"
The boys glanced over at Cheng, who was holding the door open with an amused smile on his lips. "You coming?" asked the Macanese student.
"I'm skipping," Leon stated firmly as he held up the kitten in his arms. "Half of the day is already over anyway, so, like, what does it matter?"
"I'm not covering for you any more then," Cheng retorted, still wearing that friendly smile on his lips. "Emil, you coming then?"
The Icelander glanced back at his newly made friend, who simply waved his hand in a shooing motion as though telling him to scram. He offered a wry smirk—or, rather, a slight upturn of his lips—and told the platinum blond, "You don't want to be late. I hear some teachers crazy strict on kids who skip, and since, like, I was never reported to be at school in the first place, nobody can really do anything to me right now."
"All right," the blond agreed shortly. "Then... what about you?"
"I'll just go home. I can't keep Xiulan around here," Leon replied. "I'll deal with Arthur later if he gets a call from school."
"Arthur?" Emil repeated curiously.
"Yeah," Leon affirmed, "my guardian."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Standing onto his feet, Leon adjusted his hold on Xiulan and offered a hand towards Emil, who accepted his help. After stepping past the doors of the dance studio, the two of them went their own separate ways. Both of them were unaware of the little glances sent their way from one another until Emil had reached the staircase leading to all of the music rooms, where Cheng had showed him a message displayed on the Macanese's iPhone. "Leon says thanks for taking care of Xiulan while he was out," the older boy read aloud even though Emil could certainly read what was on the screen.
"I-It wasn't a big deal or anything..." Emil replied shyly, unused to speaking with the Macanese boy.
"Then you can tell him yourself," Cheng responded in kind. He stretched out his hand and said, "Give me your phone. I'll enter Leon's number for you."
"Is that... okay?" Emil inquired hesitantly.
"Yeah, you two seem to get along pretty well even though you've just met," Cheng chimed. "I'm sure he'd be fine if you had his phone number. You're his type anyway."
At the last statement, Emil flushed red with embarrassment. Rendered speechless, he couldn't even make a sound, and stunned into silence, he wasn't even sure how to react to Cheng's rouse. The Macanese student laughed at Emil's reaction, still holding out his hand patiently, before he explained his previously spoken words, "Leon appreciates quiet people. His friends are loud, and his family is even louder. He's a silent tough guy himself though, so that's why."
Somewhat aware that Cheng wouldn't give up until Emil handed over his phone, he quickly unlocked his older iPhone model—smaller in height and a bit clunky in weight compared to the recent sleeker models—and handed it to his classmate. Once he had adjusted to Emil's operating system, Cheng pulled up Leon's number on his own phone and punched it into Emil's shortly afterwards.
Just as the Macanese student handed back the iPhone, Mei slipped past them and into another dance studio (used for ballet from what Emil could tell) right before the bells rang to begin the next session of classes. The Taiwanese girl smiled warmly at Emil, who blushed at the attention, although it seemed as though she was keeping a secret to herself.
Discreetly, underneath his desk and out of the teacher's line of sight, Emil replied to the message Leon had Cheng deliver to him, "This is Emil. Cheng gave me your number. Also, about your cat, it's not a big deal." He hesitated for a moment before his thumb pressed against the send icon. The reply was almost instantaneous.
"No, seriously, thanks for taking care of her."
Leon carefully pushed open the front door, and at the first chance she got, Xiulan leapt from his arms onto the panelled floor of the main entrance. She strolled over to the sofa and pounced onto the unsuspecting lap she found there while Leon was still shuffling into the house.
Sharp Cantonese, faintly accented by a foreign tongue unused to speaking the language twenty-four hours a day, rang throughout the house. "You're home early," remarked Arthur the moment Leon stepped into the living room. The Hongkonger froze at the sight of his British guardian, who had stopped tuning his guitar the moment he heard the door click open.
"You're home early, too, Father," Leon replied in a more fluid Cantonese tongue. "Did something happen at the studio?"
At the mention of his recording studio, the blond sighed, his thick brows furrowing, making the slight wrinkles on his visage deepen subtly with the scowl, before he forced himself to smile so not to make his child worry. "Don't worry about it, Xiao Chun. Things have happened before, and it's not the first time a pop star has been difficult even though everyone can vouch for my composing and producing skills. Everything has been okay so far despite that, hasn't it?"
Unable to argue with his father, Leon nodded stiffly, but before he could make a move towards his room, Arthur patted the spot next to him on the sofa and added in a rather sardonic tone, "How about you tell me all about school today?" Unable to refuse his father's request, Leon took the seat next to the older man and confessed that, yes, indeed, he had skipped the remainder of school to bring home a certain stowaway.
Fortunately, Arthur made a deal with Leon that he wouldn't tell Marianne if Leon didn't tell Marianne about the mess at the office. The Frenchwoman worried too much, after all, with reason.
A/N:
A huge thank you for all the favourites and follows. I'd like to thank the guest who took the time to review in the first chapter as well! It was a warm welcome to the HongIce community here. Anyway,
I figured that, in this AU, Arthur and Leon would be closer when they're alone and when there's nobody to judge their relationship. Arthur tried to learn Mandarin when he was dating Chun-Yan to try to appeal to her father (alas, to no avail), and when he adopted Leon, he tried learning Cantonese from some of the locals in Chinatown. Over ten years, Leon accepted Arthur as his father rather than just a father figure, but he still feels awkward calling him "Dad" in front of other people. The two of them have a hard time showing affection, but how Arthur is willing to learn different languages to communicate with Leon and how Leon calls him "Father" in Cantonese is a decent way of illustrating their relationship in my opinion. Eventually, I want to show Leon comfortable enough to troll Arthur, but we'll see.
On another note, Osaka Tsukomi is actually Osaka Prefecture, a character who's been seen with Japan in a couple of strips, and his appearance is based off his modern getup rather than his samurai look. The name Tsukomi is taken from Hoke Tsukomi, a character from Himaruya's Barjona Bombers whom he was based off. I've tried making him a friendly, energetic character, but he isn't as wary around foreigners like his canon counterpart.
Xiulan, the naughty little kitten, slipped into Leon's backpack before he left for school. Knowing Leon, he probably didn't mind her little stunt as much as he minded throwing Arthur for a loop for something he didn't do on purpose. He'd rather be known as someone who skipped class rather than the idiot who brought a cat to school.
In the dance studio scene, Leon's friends are in their gym uniforms since it's more appropriate attire in which to dance hip-hop and contemporary styles than trousers or skirts. Also, assuming that this is a Tuesday (as the previous chapter was most likely a Monday), students at the high school division of World Academy are currently studying in their fields (sciences, humanities, or arts) instead of general core requirements. They meet in home-room to take attendance and then scatter where they need to be—dance lessons, voice lessons, piano lessons, etc. for example in the conservatory side.
Leon and his friends do what they can in the dance studio during lunch—including snacking—especially in the case that a performance is approaching, and then change back into their uniform after they're done. Of the dancers, I think Leon and Mei would be most compatible as partners because of their mutual interests and similar cultural backgrounds. However, Hong Kong/Taiwan isn't a romantic pairing in this story.
Music References:
There will be some mentioning (although it might actually be "a lot" rather than "some" if I think about it more) of East Asian artists here and there, notably Japanese, Korean, and Taiwanese artists.
I'm not a big fan of boy bands, but MBLAQ is probably the one group I listen to and hold a certain amount for respect for—especially for their dances and general dorky nature off-camera. It was originally a five-member boy band from Korea created by entertainer Bi Rain, but currently there are only three members (as of early 2015). The début song Mei was talking about is "Oh Yeah" that has a somewhat difficult dance choreographed towards the song's break-down. (It's not impossible to cover though.) It's a catchy song that can get easily stuck in your head.
Originally, I was planning on having them perform something from TVXQ/DBSK or a song from SHINee or even some Taiwanese pop/rap songs, but I think I was taken by the flips and handstands in "Oh Yeah." Leon's comment about accidentally kicking someone in the face while practising wasn't a joke. It was based on personal experiences and, hey, accidents happen. Nobody's perfect the first time around.
The song in Leon's dream sequence, "Tong Hua" (translated into "Fairy Tale"), is a Mandopop ballad by Malaysian singer-songwriter Michael Wong from 2005. It's considered his strongest single by his fans as it is arguably the most successful Chinese language song, and as of 2007, it is still among the top in Hong Kong karaoke charts.