FIRST SIGHT II
Inside, it was brightly lit, and warmer than I'd hoped. The office was small, the U shaped desk filling most of the available space. Four chairs were lined two by two in between the door and the desk, behind the desk was a wall of old fashioned cabinets, labelled A to Z. In any side and corner that was empty were potted plants, rivalling their cousins outside in their greenness. The big clock on the wall ticked loudly. Behind the desk was a red-haired woman wearing glasses. She was wearing casual ensemble making me feel pleasantly extravagant in my clothing.
When I softly cleared my throat, she raised her head with a methodical gaze "Can I help you?"
"I'm sure you can." I smiled, putting on my charms instantly, hoping to accelerate the paper work process. "Ulrich, Chief Manchester's son." I informed her; and to my delight, I saw the immediate awareness light her eyes. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Son of the Chief's mysterious ex-lover, came home at last.
"Of course you are," she said. MY paperwork wise necessities were neatly stacked at the corner of the desk, a thin folder labelled as Ulrich Xander. She had prepared well, I took the offered folder with a polite smile, glad that I was going to be free of the office tour burden.
"I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school. All of the classes are labelled, the classes you'll be attending are highlighted with blue. As per your request you have only the bare minimal amount of science classes, the preferences are utilized towards fine arts and verbal classes."
She went through my classes for me, highlighting the best route to each on the map, and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day.
When I went back out to my truck, other students were starting to arrive. I drove around the school, following the line of traffic. I was glad to see that most of the cars were older like mine, nothing flashy. It meant that after I was done with it, my truck was going to look flashier than most. As I drove around observing, I saw the nicest car here. It was a shiny Volvo, its stark silver stood out. I parked the truck but didn't cut the engine right away, still looking around; uncaring of the looks people give me because of the roaring sound of my little dragon.
I looked at the map in the truck, trying to memorize it. I never had much of a problem with visual memory and directional senses so me being lost was a slim chance. I stuffed everything in my bag, slung the strap over my shoulder, and gave a last image check at the rear window. My irises, a clear blue with gold flecks today, signalled that it was a lucky day for me. A wide smile graced my lips as I confidently stepped out of the truck, care freely whipping my hair back to its place. Almost instantly all the idle gazes crowded upon me. Savouring the attention, I walked like a model to the schools gated entrance.
Once I got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot. A large black "3" was painted on a white square on the east corner. I felt my grin split wider as I approached the door, excited of the unknown.
The classroom was small, much smaller than my previous one, which was a relief on my side. The people in front of me stopped just inside the door to hang up their coats on a long row of hooks. I copied them. They were two girls, one a porcelain-coloured blonde, the other also pale, with light brown hair. When they turned around I held their gaze and gave them the usual smile. They looked at each other, the brown haired one already blushing a bit. Before they could turn back to me and say something, I passed them and headed towards the teachers desk.
I took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my name — one of the responses I liked the most — and of course I smirked. He sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class which was a bummer but I didn't feel like making a grand entrance just yet. Sitting at the back as a big question mark in everybody's mind would enhance the anticipation.
It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in the back, but somehow, they managed. I casually checked the reading list the teacher had given me. It was fairly basic: Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, and Faulkner. Nothing new for a bookworm like myself… boring. I gathered my attention outside, watching the rain drop and the wind pick up, shaking the trees and forcing everyone inside.
When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, a lanky boy with long ravenous hair turned to my desk.
"You're Ulrich Xander, aren't you?" He looked like the overly helpful, chess club type.
"Just Ulrich is enough," I left the sentence lingering, implying that I didn't know his name.
"Eric," he finished for me, I smiled.
"Thanks, Eric. Nice to meet you, seem like a guy who would know everything going around here." I nudged. If my classification was correct, he would jump at this opportunity to show case his knowledge, which he did. Confirmed, another bulls eye for Ulrich's categorization system.
We got our jackets and started walking towards the next class, economics, as he spilled almost everything a newcomer should now. The class was in another building, so we headed out into the rain, which had picked up. I could have sworn several people behind us were walking close enough to eavesdrop. Typical curious teenagers, much to their dismay I was a listener just like themselves in this briefing like conversion. Or so I thought until the questions began.
"So, this is a lot different than Phoenix, huh?" he asked. "Very."
"It doesn't rain much there, does it?" "Three or four times a year."
"Wow, what must that be like?" he wondered. "Sunny," I told him, not caring to shield the disgust in my voice.
"Don't like the sun much? You look very tan though…" he trailed of. "This is my natural complexion, untouched by excessive amounts of sunlight."
He studied my face apprehensively, and I laughed. After a brief explanation regarding my father's roots, his curiosity about my appearance was sated, hopefully. We arrived the class room with ease.
The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. My Trigonometry teacher, Mr. Varner, who I would have hated anyway just because of the subject he taught, was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself, which gained him some points in my regard. I put on the show smoothly, charming away almost half the ladies just by the entrance.
After two classes, I recognized several of the faces in each class. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I was liking Forks. I played it cool and mysterious, under sharing with short answers and taking more information than I gave. It was an easy process, almost all the time people were like open books to me; what they are thinking more or less evident in their face. It was quite simple to play it their expectations, which helped me gain popularity quite fast
One girl sat next to me in both Trigonometry and Spanish, and she walked with me to the cafeteria for lunch. She was tiny, but her wildly curly dark hair made up a lot of the difference between her and the average height. I smiled and nodded as she prattled about teachers and classes, filtering the useful information from student banter.
We sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends, who she introduced to me with vigour. I repeated all their names carefully as I spoke to them. Knowing the name of the person you talked to was the first step on conquering them. For some reason her friends seemed impressed by her bravery in speaking to me. The boy from English, Eric, waved at me from across the room, which I waved back. My glance almost automatically found the windows due to my dissociative tendencies.
It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, that I first saw them.
From ceiling to floor windows of the cafeteria they passed like a group of superstars. A couple then another entered, just when I thought this was all to the group a single person trailed behind them with a walk that could rock the cafeteria. They took simple trays consisted of two to three items and sat down to the most isolated table which was by the windows I have first seen them.
They were now sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where I sat as possible in the long room. Five of them. They were talking and eating, but so slowly and softly that you would think that they weren't simple teenagers, more like ancient beings covered with a simple human disguise, like deities on earth.
Despite my neon like blue hair and new boy status, none of them cared to look at me, so immersed in their own small bubble. Well, at least it was safe to stare at them freely since they didn't seem to be aware of anything else existing aside from themselves. I took this opportunity to analyse them, a standard procedure of my human cataloguing system.
They didn't look anything alike. Of the two boys, one had bright white hair. Not even silvery or tinted, it looked so pure and wholesome that gazing too long at it tired my eyes. His hair was sap straight and tousled, shorter at the sides and back; he almost seemed like an anime character in real life. He looked excessively tired and pale, I'd know this face of exhaustion anywhere. The boy was clearly an insomniac much like myself, the dark circles around his eyes confirming my theory. Referencing a tragedy manga protagonist which had white hair due to immense torture he was subjected to, I nicknamed him Kaneki.
The other boy was quite the opposite of Kaneki-san. He had a wavy mop of warm coloured hair reaching his ears and neck in lazy turns, the colour either honey brown or blonde copper. Even from this distance I could notice the warm brown dots scattered to his pink tinged cheeks. He had a soft look; upturned eyebrows and a small smile, his warm colour palette sealed with his light tan skin tone. Over all he seemed somehow like an artist or a poet, someone with a deep and kind soul. Despite his non threatening appearance, he was the biggest of them all physically. He had an obvious height difference even while they were seated. The gentle giant.
The girls, there were three of them. The one who came hand-in-hand with Kaneki-san was a hyper active one. She was tiny compared to her friends, almost like a small fairy. Her inky black hair had purple streaks all around, pulled into two low buns at the back of her head. Her big almond shaped eyes were round with a cute monolid. She looked Asian just like her partner. Even while I was looking at them she was talking about something very animatedly, making her partner look at her with a fond expression. The pixie.
The next was gentle giants counterpart, a woman so tall and Amazon like with her expression. Unlike gentle giant's golden and warm halo, her blonde hair was a cold platinum yellow, arctic like. It flowed down her back with big waves, unhindered with any hair products to keep them strained, reaching to the chair she was sitting on. Her hour glass physique was fine enough to be a Victoria's Secret model, but the cold expression on her face made her look more suitable to be a high manager, the cool professionalism of the CEO.
The last but not least was the lone person. They, had a very curly dark brown hair with pale orange highlights here and there. Since their back was turned to me I couldn't assess their face. From the pushed back sleeves, a splash of chocolate brown hair was visible, rich and dark. They sat with such a relaxed state. One ankle on top of other knee with wide open hips and an arm slid back in the chair. Somehow I couldn't immediately came up with a category for them. So for now it was just them or the one.
Somehow, despite being done with my intention, I couldn't look away.
I stared because their faces, so different, yet so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. They were faces you never expected to see except at screens or as Photoshop results. Or painted by an old master as the faces of an angels. Even as they sat down in this modern setting, with their minimalist clothing choices, they looked like a renaissance painting. I didn't even try to pick who was the most beautiful because it was impossible. But from the position I sat it was obvious who the centre of the painting was. It was them, with their back turned, their friends forming a weird symmetry around them with the backdrop of endless blue-green clashing with their bright, orange-brown cartella.
"Who are they?" I asked Jessica who wasn't conserving with anyone at that moment.
As she looked up to see who I meant — though already knowing, probably, from my tone — a loop sided smile appeared on her face. She giggled in embarrassment, looking at the table like I did, somehow she looked either eager or excited to talk about them.
"White haired one is Tachibana Hikari. Japanese." She noted, the foreign name spelled with a weird accent in her American mouth, I inwardly cringed at this verbal destruction but opted against correction. She continued, not noticing my small inner conflict.
"The one with purple streaks is Yoon Mi-Rae. She is Korean." Again the name sounded more like 'you Mary' than what it was but I kept silent. "They are together with Tachibana as far as we know."
"Moving on, that ball of private sunshine is Nikolai Vasechkin. He is the most approachable one, I'd say. Together with our pale blonde model Morgana Le Fey, a.k.a. ice witch. She is cold to any and everyone, sees herself higher than as I suppose." Jessica trailed on with a side long glance.
"Finally the curly head is Kali Moria, even though Moria is the surname, no one uses Kali. African-American I think. He, she, them, doesn't really care about the pronouns. Doesn't really care about genders either, in my opinion. Boys and girls, lots tried to approach them but..." the small silent sigh she couldn't supress made me wonder if Jessica was one of the rejects as well.
Just when I decided to take another long glance while Jessica went on about Moria, they turned this way. A small face framed with dark curls and revealed itself, the sharp gaze finding mine. The eye contact was cut short as they disregarded me without a second thought and turned back to their table. It was one of the rare times I was disregarded this way, so almost angrily I kept staring but they never turned again.
"How are they related, as a group?" I asked, a bit grumpy. Jessica didn't seem to notice my mood shift.
"They all live together with Dr. Morguise and her husband." She said this under her breath.
I glanced sideways once again, tried of glaring. Kali must have been talking because all the others were focused and silent, an amused expression mirrored in their faces.
Strange, unpopular names, I thought. Very foreign. They looked like a make shift international family, all members picked from different depths of cultures.
"They are… very nice-looking." I said, it almost sounded accusing. The statement a small blow to my pride, somehow.
"Yes!" Jessica agreed with another giggle. "Too bad they're all together — Nikolai and Morgana, and Tachibana and Yoon, I mean. And they live together." Her voice held all the shock and condemnation of the small town, I thought critically. But, if I was being honest, I had to admit that even in Phoenix, it would cause gossip.
"So none of them is a Morguise?" I asked. "Obviously, they are not related…"
"Oh, they're not. Dr. Morguise is really young, in her twenties or early thirties. They're all adopted. "
"They look a little old for foster children." I mused with suspicion.
"They are now, Nikolai and Tachibana are both eighteen, but they've been with Dr. Morguise since they were very young. Her husband is the towns florist, he is related with Moria somehow, uncle if I remember correctly. " She mumbled.
"That's really kind of nice — for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they're so young and everything." I thought out loud. Adoption and adaptation to events following that, was harsh. As someone who knew what foster homes were like, I decided to approach this small group, no matter what.
"I guess so," Jessica admitted reluctantly, and I got the impression that she didn't like the doctor and her husband for some reason. With the glances she was throwing at their adopted children, I would presume the reason was jealousy. "I think that Dr. Morguise can't have any kids, though," she added, as if that lessened their kindness. A common way to degrade adoption. I held myself back from being mean, it was just the first day after all.
Throughout all this conversation, my eyes flickered again and again to the table where the strange family sat. They continued to talk and eat with their weird pace.
"Have they always lived in Forks?" I asked. Surely I would have noticed them on one of my summers here.
"No," she said in a voice that implied it should be obvious, even to a new arrival like me. "They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska."
As I examined them, yes once again, Kale turned to look at me. They quickly scanned me head to toe, and without a change in their neutral expression, turned back to the group. As I kept looking they got their now empty trays, put them to their places and left.
"Kale... Moria? You said most approached them but didn't finish your sentence." I urged Jessica to continue.
"Moria doesn't date. Apparently none here is good-looking enough for them." She sniffed, a clear case of sour grapes. My speculation was confirmed. I wondered how they'd turned her down.
I bit my lip to hide my smile. I was very tempted to make a quest out of this rootless ambition of mine. I was always captivated with things that were deemed unattainable, the word impossible was the bane of my existence.
Jessica must have read my look towards Moria, she sighed,
"If you are thinking of going after Moria, I say don't waste your time. No one knows what goes inside that gorgeous curls, they are poker faced personified. " the words that were muttered to deter me only served to do the opposite. I chuckled with new found glee. Jessica shook her head disapprovingly.
I sat at the table with Jessica and her friends longer than I would have if I'd been sitting alone. One of my new acquaintances, 'Angela' I said before she could reintroduce herself, had Physics II with me the next hour. We walked to class together in silence. She was shy, so I made most of the conversation.
When we entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at a black-topped lab table exactly like the ones I was used to. She already had a partner. In fact, all the tables were filled but one. Next to the centre aisle, I recognized Tachibana Hikari by his unusual white hair, sitting next to that single open seat.
Mrs. Canon signed my slip and handed me a book, briefly announcing me to the lab with simply my two names, she too didn't mention my surname. Of course, she had no choice but to send me to the one open seat in the middle of the room. I glanced at him, he was looking out of the window, half asleep.
I didn't look up as I set my book on the table and took my seat, but I saw his posture change from the corner of my eye. He had noticed my existence but hadn't raised his head. Knowing how annoying it was to be disturbed in this rare moments of piece for an insomniac I opted not to disturb him until I had to so I turned my head tried to pay attention to the teacher.
Unfortunately the lecture was on optics, something I couldn't manage myself due to lack of knowledge. I took notes carefully anyway, trying not to look to my left.
I couldn't stop myself from peeking occasionally at the strange boy next to me. During the whole class, he never relaxed his stiff position on the edge of his chair. I could see his hand on his left leg was clenched into a fist, tendons standing out under his pale skin. This, too, he never relaxed. He had the long sleeves of his white shirt pushed up to his elbows, on his forearm there was a cacophony of lines, swirling interlacing, ending with 4-5 kanjis on his hand. As intrigued I was with the silent mention of tattoos, I kept myself at check with the decision I made.
The class seemed to drag on longer than the others. Was it because the day was finally coming to a close, or because I was waiting for him to turn to me somehow. He never did; he continued to doze on and off, obviously unconcerned about the lecture.
I peeked up at him one more time, and regretted it. He was looking at me now dark silver eyes dull with an emotion I couldn't read very well. A mixture of boredom, tiredness and something resembling the deep burden of understanding/knowing too much.
At that moment, just when I had opened my mouth to say something, the bell rang loudly, making me jump, and Tachibana Hikari was out of his seat. Fluidly he rose — he was much taller than I'd thought but still not as tall as myself — his back to me, and he was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat.
I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after him. I hadn't expected such a movement from him. He had looked downright physically drained but there he was, gone. Surprised and amused by this abnormal occasion, I raised my eyebrows involuntarily at the space he had sat.
"Aren't you Ulrich Xander?" a male voice asked.
I looked up to see a baby-faced boy, his pale blond hair carefully gelled into orderly spikes, smiling at me in a friendly way.
"Ulrich is enough," I turned to him, the amused smile still on my face. "I'm Mike." "Hi, Mike."
"Do you need any help finding your next class?" "I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it."
"That's my next class, too." He beamed, he either liked the class or liked the idea of having the class with the new boy. I opted for the latter, his classification was easy, puppy dog type.
We walked to class together; he was a chatterer — he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me to gather my mind from the previous class. He'd lived in California till he was ten, so he knew how I felt about the sun. It turned out he was in my English class also.
But as we were entering the gym, he asked, "So, what's up with Tachibana and you? I know he gives everyone the cold shoulder but I had never seen him so retreated."
Oh, so there was something wrong. I decided to play dumb.
"The white haired boy next to me?" I asked feigning ignorance. "Yes," he said. "I thought he was going to fell off the desk or something." "I don't know," I responded. "I never spoke to him."
"He's a weird guy." He muttered as we headed to the dressing room. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you." Ofcourse you would, I thought, I am th3 knew squeaky toy and you are dying to get a bite.
I smiled politely at him and removed my clothes. I could feel the whole locker rooms eyes on my left arm, which was adorned with astral figures, star maps, suns, moons, lily's and humming birds. Towards my shoulder blade was a howling wolf and the moon, under it where my names meanings explained in loopy italic handwriting. The light blues, navies and pale yellows stood out against my dark skin, the incrinate and artistic designs begging the viewer to come closer. Not having enough guts no one said something or came close. Mike looked at my arm for a few seconds without realising he stopped in the middle of his story. The gazes diminished and died down when I put on the t shirt, which covered most of my tattoo.
I watched four volleyball games running simultaneously while waiting for my turn to play basketball or volleyball. It seemed that there was a match, as someone next to me explained, so only the team members were training today. I smiled to myself, they didn't know what they were missing by making me sit down.
The final bell rang at last. I walked slowly to the office to return my paperwork. The rain had drifted away, but the wind was strong, and colder.
I walked into the office from the morning with hair plastered to my face.
"How did your first day go, dear?" the receptionist asked looking up. "Fine," I said, and it was, the only interesting thing to happen was the event of the physics class. She looked content with my answer, quickly got the job done and let me go with a final warning about the upcoming storm. I nodded knowingly and bid her goodbye.
When I got to the truck, it was almost the last car in the lot. I sat down, my mind drifting back to the Morguise family, just staring out the windshield blankly. But soon I was cold enough to need the heater, so I turned the key and the engine roared to life. Absentmindedly I patted the steer wheel with soft adoration regarding my truck and drove. Surely, I was going to get to Morguises somehow, smiling with the reassurance that this terms wasn't going to be boring at all.
As you all know by heart, twilight belongs to Stephanie Mayer.
Well, how did you find my version of the Cullens? How did you find Moria? Let me know in your reviews. Curious about something? Don't hesitate to message me. Excited for some Moria-Ulrich (Ulriah) interaction? Soon, we shall see that too. I decided to keep the minor characters as they are, hope it doesn't feel weird or artificial within the story.
A small hint, Moria is not the one with mind reading powers, and her ability doesn't exist in cannon Cullen family.
Have fun.