His Fame, Her Self

Genre: Drama/Romance

Summary-Rima Touya is a lower class girl with a scholarship in a rich elite high school called Knight Academy, filled with rich kids, who hate her! She just wants to finish her schoolwork to graduate high school and become an artist! Unfortunately, Senri Shiki, the most popular boy in the elite academy of snobby rich kids and the known world that has his face on a magazine cover, is interested in the outcast Rima Touya and kinda stalking her...for some reason. Could it be her oversized clothing attire, or her messy hair, or her thickly framed goggles? As she tries to be distant with Senri Shiki, her family and friends push her toward him. Could something start? Or just make the Touya female hate the rich society even more?

Thanks for the reviews of Chapter 3: kyuuketsuki fang, forever - a i n e, kawaii hime-sama, hellopanda2, Asereth, Devilchild93, kAtiE-IUvs-mcr

Enjoy Chapter Four!!


,"You have a date with Senri Shiki?!" I slapped my hand over his mouth, muffling his words, but by the expressions he was making with his eyes; he was half-ready to jump out of his skin.

,"Shhh!" I released my hand, "I know…My reaction was nearly doubled to your shock." Out of confusion, I moved away to my bed, distancing myself from where we stood by my locked bedroom door. I sighed, "It doesn't matter what the reaction is; I don't even think I'll go."

,"Rima." I sat on my blue quilt, looking down on my carpeted floor. The truth was I was expecting to be ditched by the 'almighty' Senri Shiki. I didn't really care if we went on a date or not, but I was really insecure in trusting a famous model, who will probably not show up and end up making a big fool out of me, the scholarship student. It'll feel like the Straight A student falling for the untied shoes gag by the Straight D student!!

A force moved my bed, making me look over to see my brother sitting on my quilt, cross-legged, "Just go, Rima. He's not as bad as the tabloids say! He's actually cool, once you figure him out." He smiled weakly, attempting to convince me.

It didn't really work, but I might as well try if Masaru was trying to depict Senri Shiki into a prince charming out of a fairytale for me. I returned a weak smile to my sibling of thirteen, "Okay. I'll go, but you have to make sure Umeki doesn't find out about this. Let alone, knowing that his idol is attending the same school I entered."

His mouth formed a smile that made me wish he didn't have it to win me over.


Playing with the brochure in my hands, I felt anxious at the arrival of the male model. I couldn't quite feel relax with someone from a different world willing to enter my own desolate one. I felt as though he pitied me and really wanted to know me; I was on the borderline of denial.

,"Hey!" I turned my head to see a grinning Shiki in an ironed dress shirt, and his usual golden-stitched denim jeans. I looked over to the clock on the wall, to see that it was five o'clock; exactly fifteen minutes to the gallery's open.

I looked at him, "You're on time?" It was more of a question than a fact. He just stood up tall, proud of his punctuality and even more proud by the fact that I wasn't strangling him for putting me up for this.

,"Yeah, so what do we do?" He placed a hand in his pocket as I was already itching to crash my knuckles into his oh-so-rich jaw.

Instead I rolled my eyes from behind my frames, and was prepared to leave through the glass doors of Kokoro, and walk back home. It was Saturday and I was ready to eat the last carton of ice cream, if Senri Shiki made any attempt to annoy me and send me home early, which will be sooner than expected. I exhaled, "You know what? This was a bad idea." Grabbing my black bag, a certain red-haired male stopped me from pushing the clear door open.

,"Sorry." He looked at me like a remorse puppy that accidently dug up the flower bed while the gardener was out for a few minutes, "Look, I just want to know more about art, and you are the only person I can turn to."

Turning away from his face, I thought for a moment or two. I might as well just go with the flow with the money-obtaining rich boy, if I'm ever going to see my mattress and blue comforter ever again. I turned back to the front counter, opening an employee's safe, and placed my black bag in there, then closed the door, placing the key in my pocket.


,"And this piece is by one of the overseas artist who owns about three houses each in two states." I pointed to a painting that had the signature Oswald Hunter, a famous rising artist who already has a fortune in less than five years of his artwork's reveal. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the male model scribbling some notes in the back of his given brochure. I looked back at the painting of an old English setting of the 1700's with a wife drying her clothes, and her children playing in front of her house. I subconsciously whispered to myself, "How lucky…"

,"Huh?" I jolted from my momentary daydream into the 1700's. Putting his pen in his pocket, he turned himself toward me, and looked at me with utter confusion, "What did you say?"

,"Oh…um…I said 'How lucky'." I stammered, afraid of his sudden question, "You know…for the artist. He became famous quickly that he seems to have all the time in the world to do art." Diverting my eyes back at the painting, I felt completely upset and discouraged at the fact that I will probably be famous once I die or won't be famous at all. I awakened from my own pessimist assumptions, realizing that a certain pair of silver orbs were still staring at me, "Uh…let's go to the next artwork."

The gallery at Kokoro was already filled with entrepreneurs, C.E,Os, actors, singers, and various celebrities you will only see in the magazines. It was already six, thirty and I was half afraid of bumping into Umeki, or even worst, the snobby rich girls from schools. I placed the rim of my glasses back on my nose as they were in danger of falling when we moved to the next piece of art.

It was a peculiar abstract sculptor made of a variety of recyclable items most people throw away in the trash bin. I read the plaque, "Anonymous. Hmmm…smart guy." My orange hair slightly fell as I continued to stare at that one word. Rising, I looked at the plastic containers of milk cartons, aluminum cans of emptied beverage drinks, and broken electronic devices to morph into a human figure, dancing with another figure. I assumed that it would be something sad, but it was actually happy. Though I thought it was rude to say it out loud, I was growing bored of the seeing the almost similar cheerful, happy artwork in every corner of this gallery, while some where just meaningless chicken scratch art done by children of professionally known artists. At times like these, I wish I had the courage to put my own dark artwork to the public.

The silence of my art pupil was scaring me, but I turned his direction to realize he had moved three artworks away to examine another artwork on his own. Blinking in disbelief, I saw him take out his pen from his pocket and write down some notes on his brochure. He sure was motivated to get a good grade in art, or he was starting to become fascinated in it, but either one I could only hope he changed his haughty rich boy attitude soon. I walked over to where he was, watching him a few feet away as he wrote something on his brochure then turned it over to the front to continue writing.

,"It's cool, isn't it?" I was surprised by the way he cut the silence between us. He looked up from his notes and shook his brown locks toward me, "It's completely different from all the others in here." He saw my confused look, which made him do a head motion, encouraging me to examine the painting he discovered.

The painting was black. Dark, eerie, mysterious…and…sad. In the bleak painting, I saw the tortured souls in the form of weeping mothers, crying children, injured men, and dying plant life. The painting itself was engulfed in complete darkness that I could barely tell it was a piece of art from the oak frame that bordered the obscure painting. Within the painting there was blood splattered everywhere if you probed it carefully; a sense of grief, death, calamity, fear, dreary, horror, and any other negative feeling the human mind can think of, but the one word that came up as I continued to stare at it was pain.

Pain…where have I heard that? PAIN! My artworks always had pain to my morbid visions of artwork. It was…one of…my artworks?! I looked at the plaque, and read aloud, "R.T." My heart dropped. Even after repeating it over ten more times, I stood in disbelief at the plaque with my initials. I was only able to babble, "Who?…What?…How?…Why?"

,"You like it." Turning my orange tresses to the masculine voice over my shoulder, I looked into the silver blue eyes that were examining the gloomy painting. He diverted his eyes to mine, and placed a smirk on his lips, "It's a surprise I set up since I saw your art in Matsushita's class. And by your stammering I guess you are completely speechless that your artwork is in an auction gallery." The smirk grew wider, as he nonchalantly slipped his hands in his pockets not caring if he wrinkled his neatly ironed shirt.

I gulped, "Auction? I thought this was an art gallery?"

,"Well, yeah, but it's also an auction." He looked back at the painting that I had produced a few days prior to the gallery, "All the money will be given to a charity for orphaned children. And all these artworks on display that we were examining are considered the best of the best." I lowered my eyes to the clean white tile floor. The best of the best… My heart slowly revived, my lungs behind my ribcage began to inflate with oxygen, and my mind finally processed what was happening.

,"But how…"

,"Miss Matsushita is an old friend of my mothers'. So, I asked if I could auction off a piece of art from her class to a charity, and she agreed, saying that the chosen artwork was 'more beautiful than silk, and as unique as a lotus'." He stared at me with his silvery eyes for a period of time, before he returned to the art piece that hung on the wall, "If you want it back, I can personally ask for the directors of the auction to take it down." His eyes were now down on the floor. I couldn't help but feel disappointed…

I looked at my soon-to-be-auctioned artwork. It was one of my favorite paintings that I enjoyed doing with immense patience at every little detail with it, "You can auction it." He looked up at me as I hid behind my lens, "If it's for a good cause then I don't mind sacrificing it." Turning slightly to his direction, I noticed a smile on his face that went from one side of the world to the other. He smiled…


My elbows were on the counter, completely bored since the end of the gallery auction. Unfortunately, I had to clean up the mess left by the rich society; my sneaker played with the tipped-over dustpan that was on the floor before the gallery started, "How much did it sell?"

,"About 80,000,000 yen."My arms fell on the clear counter. That money is more than enough for the orphaned children. I couldn't believe I was conversing with Senri Shiki, the one-and-only person to make my life a never ending Hell.

I finally moved, grabbing the broom and sweeping up the trash around the counter and every other flat surface,"Are you serious? Eighty million for a piece of gothic art made by an amateur artist?" I highly disbelieve that someone was stupid enough to buy one of my paintings for eighty million yen; I mean, come on, it was EIGHTY MILLION YEN!!!

The blonde hair of the broom met the designer shoes of Senri Shiki; I raised my head to see the face of the most famous model, "You aren't an amateur artist."

,"Says you…" I moved the broom around the rich society's most knowable shoe wear, cleaning up around a different area near Kokoro, "The children of famous artists are acknowledged more on their pedigree than their work. Not to mention, they are twice my junior." I slightly felt jealous over the fact that those children could make millions of dollars over a home-made macaroni art work, while I could barely afford a new sweater with my three month's amount of paychecks. I don't want to deny the fact that I don't like my life, but it would be better if I was in their miniature diamond-studded shoes.

I abandoned the room and went to the rack of clothing and put them in their proper place. It took a few minutes before they were 'perfect' condition for my manager to be satisfied, and then I returned the towering, pale, thin mannequins to the front of the store windows with the newly stocked clothing that came in a few hours ago. I sighed cleaning up the pile of trash I had sweep, placing them in the dustpan, and threw it in the trash just in time for me to close the cleaned Kokoro and walk back home…with an escort.

We continued our conversation, walking in a slow pace, "So, wanna play a game?" I raised a skeptical orange eyebrow from my dark frames.

,"It depends…what kind of game?" It was ironic. I hated the rich boy who obtained everything he asked for, and here I am conversing with that very boy, not to mention, that he was walking me home. I felt a bit ashamed of being a hypocrite.

,"20 Questions." I furrowed my eyebrows together in confusion, "I ask you a question, and then you ask me a question, and so forth until we finish our twenty questions."

What kind of game was this? It was probably made to release the tension between people who didn't get along so well? I walked slowly, thinking over whether or not to play the game or just deal with the annoying barrage of questions he was still going to ask me even after I said no, "Fine. You go first."

He smirked, "Alright…um…what's your favorite flavor of ice cream?" We stopped at a crosswalk that had a blinking red hand.

I thought hard, trying to answer his question properly, "Ice cream? I have…to say chocolate and mint chocolate chip." He nodded, accepting my answer. We walked in unison as the light flashed to a bright walking figure, and continued to walk straight ahead, "Okay, what's your favorite color?"

,"Blue." I was confused when he said it in a monotone manner; as though he just decided to choose it because it was widely popular.

,"Why?"

He stopped in his tracks, making me stop a few steps later. I was confused at his sudden halt but I wasn't able to ask when he stood a few inches close to me. He silver eyes bore through my lens as I embarrassingly lowered them down to examine the crack in the concrete, but a force pushed my head up to stare into a pair of silver-blue eyes. He moved his hands to my ears and pulled my glasses off of my face, continuing to look straight into my azure eyes. I blinked a few times, before I process what he-Senri Shiki! - just did the unthinkable, "Because it's the color of your eyes…"

I snapped, "Oh no!"Snatching my spectacles from his hands, I placed them back on my nose as I turned around to walk on my own.

,"What?" He slightly jogged to catch up to me. His eyes confused at my reaction, "Wait! What did I do?"

,"A guy who says his favorite color is 'your eyes' is when you know he's up to no good. I had an instinct and I idiotically went against it!" He stopped as I walked in a faster pace. I mentally noted to myself to kill Kazou the next time I see him.

,"Rima!"

I turned around walking backwards, making a few strands of my hair slightly blur my vision, "When a guy asks a girl out, tells her in the middle of the street that she has 'pretty eyes' at around the evening time of seven, touches her face: it's called surrealism." I turned my back towards him, walking forward. My sneakers were swift as I continued my trek down the street as I left Senri Shiki alone in the middle of the street. How could he possible think by touching me because he was a rich model wouldn't be considered harassment?! I stopped at another crosswalk, looking in both directions of the empty road and continue to walk. I was so angry that I was almost about to slam my knuckles into the nearest mailbox in front of the flower shop but stopped. I slumped my back on a light pole in front of the shop, flinching as the bruise near my spinal cord, produced by the crazed rich girls obsessed with the famous male model, made contact with the cool, metal pole.

After lingering there to only relieve the injury on my back, I pushed myself up to continue walking past another empty street I was home free by a block to hear the lyrics of Kanon Wakeshima from my front pocket.

Hi Miss Alice. Anata garasu no me de donna yume o. Mirareru no? Mirareru no?

Too lazy to see the caller ID, I flipped the phone open and clicked the green button without thinking, "Yes?"

,"Rima, where are you?" I stopped walking. Umeki! ,"I tried calling you on your cell phone but it was turned off. I also called your work but they said you had your day off, today."

,"Sorry. I was hanging out with Sachiko at the bookstore." I lied, as I took baby steps toward my house, "I'm walking back home right now." I tried to talk casually and nonchalantly to at least be convincing.

,"Should I call -"

,"-The SWAT Team?" I interrupted sarcastically, still trying to convince him that I wasn't doing anything I wasn't suppose to do, "No, Umeki. I'm sixteen; I think I could walk without a chaperon. Don't worry I'm in front of the house." Looking up from the concrete street, I recognized the white door to my abode swing open by the silhouette of Umeki who held his cell phone to his left ear. I walked toward the door, shutting my cell phone as he did the same, "See? Safe and sound."

I walked past him as he pulled the door wider to let me inside the house, "You stayed at the bookstore from four to seven?"

I looked over my shoulder to see him closing the door and look at me with his arms crossed. Usually when he does that, it means he's upset and angry. My shoes on the step of the stairs were ready to hit the hay, but I barely moved from where I was out of annoyance from Umeki, "It was at a bookstore not an adult club. Why are you suddenly upset? When Masaru is at the arcade with his friends, you don't make it a big deal if he comes home at eight."

,"I just worry about you sometimes." He always sees me as a little girl who always needs a hand to help with everything. He sighed, uncrossing his arms as though he was using all his strength to appear intimidating- or at least trying to intimidate me, "Just call home when you're going to go somewhere Sachiko or Kazou, okay?"

,"Does this apply to Masaru, too?" His silence meant no. I rolled my eyes and sighed, "That is not fair! I have done everything that is expected to be considered a trustworthy person, and I can't even be considered an equal to my little brother!" I stomped my feet the first few steps.

,"Quit acting like a child, Rima!" I stopped walking for about the billionth time this day, and turned around to see Umeki looking up at me. I gripped the railing to resist my anger from bursting.

,"A child? I'm not the one acting like someone I'm not," Before he could open his mouth to speak, I interjected with my tirade, "You act like a happy, cheerful man, but you're not. You try to act like my father when you're not. You act like a million people you are not. Don't go calling me a child when you can't even decide who you are." I resumed my stomping journey up the stairs and in my room.

I slept without changing into my pajamas.


It was Tuesday, and I began doodling in my Sociology notebook. Completing the assignment given as well as the homework, I began to draw the desolate street where my home was located. I saw in no point to look up at the teacher, who sat in his desk with his head against the wooden surface as he was now getting along with counting sheep. I looked around the classroom to see that my classmates weren't even doing their work but socializing with one another. As usual they sneered at me as though I didn't notice, but I ignored them, growing somewhat used to their dislike to me.

RING!!

The teacher was startled at the loud ring, he sat up straight without knowing that a paper was stuck to his right cheek, "Class dismissed!" He pressed his paper-covered cheek on his desk and starting snoring as the class was getting up to leave.

Thank you! I gathered my materials, and walked toward the door. Suddenly, something hit my ankle and I was sent falling to the tile floor with my backpack spilling my items. Some people laughed while walking past me, while others moved around and ignored the scene. My glasses caught the laughing faces of that one girl- Minako and her group of beauty-absorbed androids. Stupid rich daddy's girls'! I sighed and picked up my pencils, pens and a few stray papers. I have almost gotten used to the bullying of the rich girls in my school. But I have no clue as to why they do bully me! My looks are as stale as the zombies in horror movies, my clothes are faded twenty times from their original color, and my class is so low I can become neighbors with the undiscovered fossils beneath the earth.

,"Need any help?" I look through my lens and saw the proud standing figure of Senri Shiki hovering over me. I rolled my eyes, entirely annoyed by his sudden presence before me and mumbled a 'whatever', not really caring if he did help or not.

I heard a loud 'smack' and an 'ow' from the male model. I looked up to see a girl standing behind the injured brown-haired model, angrily holding a rolled up magazine with a lot a pages. Her light brown wavy hair was nicely cropped just two inches past her chin, her eyes were a peculiar color of grey and her blemish-free light skin was brighter than the full moon. She smacked the brown-haired model once again in the back of his head, "Quit standing around and help the young lady pick up her belongings, Senri!" Her brows lowered deeply, but softened as the male did as he was told.

He lowered himself to pick up my textbooks and notebooks, along with my long-lost glasses case…

,"Who is this with you?" He held a rectangular piece of paper. His eyebrows furrowed almost creating a new emotion of anger and disappointment combined together.

,"Who?" He handed me the piece of paper back to me, revealing a picture of my thirteen-year-old self, with my usual framed glasses and a boy who held me by the waist and both of us were smiling. I blinked a few times before recognizing the chocolate hair with highlights and shinning emerald eyes. Taro. As he returned my books and my found glasses case, I placed them in my book bag, along with the picture and looked up at the confused model waiting for an answer and the female disciplinarian ready to strike her magazine at the male. I mumbled, "No one."

,"It's more than a no one if they took a picture with you." His voice spoke with malice for the first time, resulting in the female hitting the rolled up magazine a few times over his brown head and a couple more on his hunched back.

,"Stop acting cruel to this sweet girl." She hit him once more over the head, before turning toward my direction softening her facial features, looking even prettier than before, "I'm sorry if my cousin was acting so rudely towards you. My name is Yumiko Kaneda; I just started attending Knight Academy as of today!" Her character changed from a violent, stern disciplinary girl to a kind, sweet fun-loving girl. I had to admit that I was a little scared of her, but had second thoughts as she held her hand out for me.

I pulled my hand up to shake hers, "I'm Rima Touya. I started here about two weeks ago."

She smiled, "Rima Touya! The scholarship student?!" I nodded, making herself jump up and down in place while holding my hand, "You're the smart and pretty new girl?!" She seemed so surprised, I couldn't really understand if it was a statement or question, but it must have been a misleading statement since she said 'pretty'.

,"Pretty?"

She nodded, stopping herself from jumping, "Some of the boys talk about you being real pretty but not being rich." She examined me, from my orange mane of hair put into a messy ponytail to the almost worn out sneakers I've had for almost two years, "Pretty? In fact, you are not pretty at all…" I placed a frown on my lips and lowered my eyes at her discouraging words, "No, not pretty at all. You are completely drop-dead gorgeous!!!" I lifted my eyes to her pretty soft features to see an angelic smile on her red lips, which need no product of cosmetics.

,"Gorgeous? Me?" She nodded once again with a smile, "No. I'm sorry but I can't be pretty or gorgeous for that matter. I mean, look at me" I emphasized my clothes and appearance.

,"I'm looking at you and I see someone remarkably gorgeous." My mouth slightly fell open at her sincere words. She looked at me and waved her hand in a child-like manner, "I'll see you around…Can I call you Little Sister Rima?" I thought for a moment, she was being really nice to me and was very sincere about me. I shook my head up and down, "Okay, see you around Little Sister Rima." She turned around, grabbed the arm of Senri Shiki and dragged him out of the classroom. Her head popped out from the door, "Oh, and you can call me Big Sister Yumiko, okay?" I nodded my head again, "Bye!"

She disappeared and for once I felt a strange mixture of doubt and reassurance from the Shiki family.


This chapter took some time to complete and I hope you enjoy it!

I kinda altered it from my original work that had been deleted, so I hope you like it! It's nine pages long, but it's worth all the time!

Also the 'famous artist Oswald Hunter' is a fictional artist I made up to make Rima talk about, since I was too lazy to research one.

Oh and as a quick quiz: what did you think of the chapter? The date? The walk? The argument? The new added character?

HAPPY SATURDAY TO EVERYONE!!