RainbowSeagull: I totally haven't been reading fanfiction in my free time instead of working on this. Nope. Also, I haven't forgotten Les Miztery Dungeons.
Javert stood outside the door, trying to convince himself to knock while at the same time trying to convince himself to leave. Hurry, or one of these teenagers is going to notice you and ask Mr. Valjean why a strange man was standing in front of your door. He tapped lightly on the door, half hoping that it would go unheard and he would have an excuse to run away and go...where? He really didn't have anywhere to go.
The door swung open so suddenly Javert almost did not have enough time to get out of the way. Mr. Valjean stood in the doorway. "Ah, sorry. I forget that it takes so little to open this door," he apologized. "What brings you here, Mr. Javert?"
Well. You knew that this question was coming, Javert! Didn't you prepare an answer already? Where did you put it? Oh, don't tell me that you put it in your pocket. You know things never come out of your pockets when you need them. Javert frowned slightly. That voice had never bothered him before. Why was had he suddenly started to criticize himself so much? Since you started being an idiot, of course, the Voice said. Javert ignored it. "I...I have four hours to myself right now before I have to come back. I didn't want to walk back to my appartment, and you are the only other person that I know apart from the band director," Javert explained. "I did not want to remain in the music room and have to listen to beginners, but it's hot at the moment, so I thought I could take shelter in your classroom..." Listen to how you sound, Javert. I would laugh if it didn't hurt me so. "If you're busy, Mr. Valjean, I'm sure I could find somewhere else to wait for practice to start," Javert said quickly.
"Of course you can stay!" Mr. Valjean said, smiling. "I hope it won't be too boring for you, though. There's a table that no one is using, if you'd like to sit there," he offered. Javert nodded. "Right over here, then," Valjean said, leading him to a large table in the back which was covered in different colored papers. "Sorry about the mess. Try not to move anything around. It probably wouldn't make a difference, though," he said, just as the bell rang to end the short ten minute break. "I have books over there, but they're all about science, so I'm not sure if you would like them," he said, pointing to a small bookshelf. Students began to enter the classroom, and Valjean hurriedly erased the answer to the warm up before too many had the chance to copy it down.
Javert walked to the bookshelf and picked up the closest book. He glanced at the title and frowned in displeasure as he read it. He put it back and picked up something that seemed more to his tastes. Like he wanted to read something about the science of falling in love. I'm sure it would be very interesting, Javert said to himself, if I had ever been interested in anyone before. Holding the new book he had chosen, Javert went back to the cluttered desk and started flipping through the pages.
The bell rang, and Valjean did his best to get the students' attention to start the class. Javert watched, slightly amused, as the teacher explained the warm up over and over again to a child in the front row. Sighing exhasparatedly, he asked on of the other students to help him and left for his desk, seeming not at all excited when the timer rang to signify the end of the two minutes he gave the class.
From time to time, Javert looked up from his book and observed the lesson quietly. He remembered all of this. It was quite simple, really. He didn't understand why so many of the students were struggling to understand it. But hasn't that always been the case? he asked himself. Why did you ever decide to become a musician anyway? You could have done almost anything you wanted. Javert almost sighed out loud. What annoyed him about the Voice was that it really was just him talking to himself. I can't change what I've already done. Maybe it'll lead me somewhere good one day. Now shut up at let me read my book.
Not for the first time since he arrived at the school, Javert wondered if he was going slightly insane.
The last class of the day ended. Javert had insisted on leaving for lunch, saying that he didn't want to be more of a bother than he could help. Javert replaced the book and said, "Thank you for allowing me to stay here, Mr. Valjean. Until I find somewhere else to go, maybe a coffee shop somewhere nearby, I'm afraid I may have to continue staying here."
"You're welcome, and it really isn't a problem at all. I think the kids are a little intimidated by you, and that's all the better for me. They're not as hard to handle. And please, it's fine if you just want to call me Jean. I'm not your teacher, after all," Valjean said.
"You don't seem to have much experience with young high schoolers," Javert observed. "I will see you some other time, then, Jean," Javert said, and turned to leave.
"Bye, Mr. Javert," Valjean said, and stopped for moment, thinking. "I don't believe you've told me your first name," he said.
"I don't have one. Goodbye." Javert left and headed for the mediocre field where marching practice was held when the football field was being used by the football team. Which happened to be almost every day.
Practice went better than expected, which wasn't saying all that much, as Javert expected half of them to trip over their own feet and fall face first on the dusty grass, if they were lucky. If they were unlucky, they would fall instrument first on one of the many dry, dirty patches. Of course, the freshmen still needed a lot of work. It was good enough for now though, and really, Javert didn't want to spend a lot of time at practice. He dismissed them at the scheduled end time, much to the surprise of many of the veteran members, and started walking home.
What is it about Jean Valjean that is so darn familiar? Javert wondered as he walked. I know I've never seen him before this school year. He seems to be a normal, honest man. Then why do I feel the urge to monitor his every action?
RainbowSeagull: Hrm, that was a short chapter. Please bear with me, I had a full idea of where this story was going and then my netbook had a virus so I couldn't write and I never put my ideas down on paper so I'm struggling to remember exactly what was supposed to happen. Also, I'm most likely going to have to start focusing on my schoolwork more, since I have typical Asian parents.