Touched up version of chapter 4! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot of this story.

Going across the hall to the cafeteria, I got in the lunch line with Olette and grabbed a styrofoam tray and a set plastic silverware. The line moved rather quickly, and soon I was standing in front of the gray-haired, grumpy-looking lunch lady. I held out my tray and the lunch lady lifted her ladle from the pot in front of her and dumped a heap of gray slop onto it.

Disgusted, I whispered to Olette, "What's this supposed to be?"

Looking just as disgusted as I felt, she whispered back, "Meat casserole."

What meat? All I saw was slop.

We made our way through the noisy room to an empty lunch table and sat down beside each other. I took my plastic spork and went to prod at the supposed food. As the prongs of my spork made contact with it, the slop deflated, forming a crater in the center. I made a face.

Note to self, bring a bagged lunch from now on.

"Can't believe I forgot the lunch ladies can't even make a decent meal," Olette said. She pushed her tray away and I did the same.

Pence and Hayner came over and sat down, Pence on the other side of Olette and Hayner across from him, both with their own trays of slop. I saw that Hayner's nose was all bandaged up and felt a stab of guilt in my stomach; it was my fault he had gotten into that fight after all.

Olette gasped. "Hayner, what happened?"

"I got in a fight with Seifer," Hayner admitted casually with a shrug.

"Why?"

"He was being an ass."

"What did he do this time?" Pence asked.

Hayner told them whole story of what had happened earlier. When he mentioned me, Pence and Olette both looked at me, and I just stared down at the table.

"Well, in that case," Olette said when he finished his story, "he deserved it."

"Exactly," Hayner said. Then he turned to me. "Hey, did you get the notes from math?"

"Uh, yeah," I said and pulled my notebook out of my bag. He took it with a quick thank you and began copying down the notes.

At that moment I noticed the noise volume in the cafeteria had toned down a few decibels. Curious, I looked around to see a majority of the girls in the room were staring at something with slightly slacked jaws. I turned my head in the direction of their stares and saw not something, but somebody.

Well…more like two somebodies.

Walking into the cafeteria were two cute guys. One looked like a mirror image of Mr. Skylark. He had both the man's hair and face. The other had brown, spiky hair of a different style that I couldn't exactly describe. He had a friendly disposition, unlike his blond companion, who was more reserved. Their looks were enough to make just about any girl's cheeks flush, and enough to make any other guy green with envy. And they both had the same gorgeous, ocean blue eyes.

Curious, I elbowed Olette and asked her in a hushed voice, "Who are they?"

She followed my gaze to the two guys. "Their names are Sora and Roxas Skylark. They're Ven's twin boys. Sora's the brunette and Roxas is the blond."

"What's so special about them?" I asked. Just what was it about them that had almost every girl in the whole room, aside from Olette and me, drooling all over themselves (besides their good looks)?

"They're the most popular guys in school and co-captains of the blitzball team. Not to mention good pieces of eye candy!"
As good-looking as they were, jocks just weren't my type. Most jocks I knew back at Destiny Island High, not including Wakka and Tidus, had been jerks, and the most popular ones had been the most arrogant assholes of them all. But I supposed that I was a little quick to judge them. I mean, for all I knew, they could be really nice guys.

"I see…"

"Yeah," Olette said with a sigh. "Roxas is single, but that's only because he says no one around here is his type." I quirked an eyebrow and she shrugged. "That's just what he says, and Hayner, Pence, and me, being his best friends, have known that for a long time."

I hummed. If Roxas was friends with the three of them he couldn't have been all that bad. Then I asked curiously, "And Sora?"

"He's already in a relationship."

"With who?"

"Sora!" a familiar voice shouted. I knew I had heard it before, but I could not quite remember who it belonged to.

Just then I saw a white, black and red blur run past me. I watched in confusion as it went right to Sora and latched itself onto his arm. I blinked and saw that the thing now clinging to Sora's arm was Kairi.

"Hi, honey bunny!" she cooed in a loud, sweet voice.

"Hey, babe," he said and planted a kiss on her lips.

"Her," Olette said, answering my question.

"Kairi?" I whispered to Olette.

"Yeah, you've already met her?'

"Just this morning."

"Ah, well, she's a friend of ours too. She's a cheerleader, but a really nice one at that. And, to be honest, her and Sora make such a cute couple."

I'd have to admit they did look pretty good together. With the way they were holding and kissing each other, they looked like a picture-perfect couple. They almost looked too perfect together. I felt a tiny stab of jealousy in my heart, because I'd never experienced anything like that before.

They, along with Roxas, who was rolling his eyes at their public display of affection, came and sat down at our lunch table. Kairi immediately took notice of me. "Hi, Naminé," she said. "So, how do you like Twilight Town High?"

"It's too early to say," I said. I still had the rest of the day to get through after all.

"You'll grow to like it, don't worry," she chirped. "Anyway, Sora, this is Naminé. Naminé, this is my sweetie pie Sora…oh, and that's Roxas."

"Hi," Sora said. Roxas just nodded a hello. I just gave a quick wave and looked down at my hands, which were folded on the table.

Olette and Pence pulled me into a conversation about the band music Demyx had given them for the half-time show performances (they were a majorette and a tenor drum player, respectively). While we were talking, I overheard Hayner telling Roxas an extremely exaggerated recollection of his fight with Seifer. And Sora and Kairi, well, they were primarily sucking face the whole time.

Then, out of my peripheral vision, I saw somebody sit next to me. I turned my head to see a familiar head of slate hair.

"Hey, Zexion," I said as calmly as I could. I didn't want to seem overly happy and scare him away.

"Hey," he said, and I swore I saw a ghost of a smile on his face. However, that smile was quickly replaced with a frown. "Where's your lunch?"

I pointed at the gray pile of slop on my tray and stuck out my tongue. Zexion pulled a brown paper bag out of backpack and pulled out a sandwich. He offered it to me. Taking the sandwich, I said, "Thanks."

As I was about to take a bite, I noticed Olette was looking at me funny. "What?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I'll tell you later," she said. "Anyway, can I see your phone really quick?"

"Uh, sure," I said, putting down the sandwich and rummaging through my bag. Upon finding it, I pulled it out and handed it to her.

Munching on my sandwich, I watched her curiously as she began keying something in on my phone. When she was finished, instead of handing it back to me, she handed it over to Pence, began typing away on it, too. Thoroughly confused, I watched as my phone got passed around the table, each person keying in something. When it reached Zexion I leaned over to see what he was keying in on my screen.

He was adding himself to my contact list.

He handed my phone back to me and I began scrolling through my contacts. The only names I had originally had in there were Demyx, Selphie, Tidus, Wakka and Xion. Now among those names were Hayner, Kairi, Olette, Pence, Roxas, Sora and Zexion. I gave Olette a confused look.

"Now you don't have to ask for our numbers," she said with a smile. "All you have to do is send us a text saying who you are."

"Oh, okay," I said, a small smile lighting up my face. I keyed my nickname into the new message box. I sent it to them and shut my phone. "Is that, um…a normal thing you guys do around here?"

"Only in the high school."

Just then the bell rang, signaling for everyone to go on to their next class. I hurriedly finished my sandwich before grabbing my tray and following everyone else toward the exit, where there were garbage cans waiting. I dumped my tray into one of the cans and waved good-bye to Zexion, Olette and the others as I pulled out my schedule. I had phys. ed next, so I made my way over to the gym.

Walking into the gym, I was greeted by a tall, extremely muscular man with curly, chestnut hair. "Take a seat on the bleachers," he said. "We'll begin once everyone else arrives."

I took a seat on the bleachers and began looking around the gym. It had a pretty similar layout to Destiny Island High's gym—two locker rooms, a weight room off to one side, basketball hoops—the only differences being the color scheme and the team emblem in the center of the gym.

I pulled out my sketchbook and started adding some color to Zexion's features. I lightly shaded in his pale skin to get just the right tone, and blended my various shades of gray for his hair. Then when I got to his eye, I stopped and stared at it for a bit. I remembered it had been blue, but I was drawing a blank on the exact hue.

Oh, this is going to be bugging me all day, I thought, puffing out my cheeks in frustration. A sigh aggravation escaping my lips, I shut my sketchbook just in time for the teacher to start his speech.

As the gym teacher Mr. Rockwell, or Lexaeus (he said he didn't care which we used), went on for the next few minutes talking about the dress code and such, I began looking around at my classmates, who had walked in while I was concentrating on Zexion's profile. I immediately caught sight of Sora and Roxas (with their hairstyles, they were hard to miss), but I didn't recognize anyone else.

Turning my attention back to the teacher, I just managed to catch him asking, "Any questions?" There was silence. He went on to say we were to do whatever we wanted for the day, since he suspected no one had brought their gym cloths, and left for his office.

Flipping my sketchbook back open, I went back to staring at Zexion's eye, its white iris mocking me. I left class, frustrated, my cheeks puffed out again. I sat through my history class, taught by Mr. Eraqus, like that, too. I was almost at the point where I wanted to tear the page out, crumple it into a ball and throw it in the trash.

I walked into my grammar and literature class silently steaming when I saw Zexion sitting in a desk, reading. My frustration quickly subsiding, I made my way over to him quietly. Taking the seat in front of him, I tapped his shoulder. He looked at me, and his blue eye met mine.

And I couldn't keep myself from staring.

I mentally slapped myself because I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed it before. His eye was the entrancing color of the deep blue sky. As I continued to gaze at it, I felt my heart fluttered like a bird in my chest. If I had wings myself, I'd want to take flight and soar through that beautiful, endless sky.

"Uh," I heard Zexion, "you need something?"

I blinked out of my trance, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment, and I suddenly became interested in the corner of his desk. I said, "I…I needed to take another look at your eye, so I could finish my picture…."

"Oh, okay," he said, going back to his book. "Let me know when you're finished."

Feeling a wave of relief surge through me, I began looking through my color pencils for just the right hue. Finding it, I shaded in his blank iris carefully.

When I finished, I held my sketchbook away from myself to examine my work. I had to admit it was one of my better works. Sadly, though, I didn't think it did him justice; for some reason his nose looked a little too big to me.

Placing my sketchbook on his desk, I said, "Done!"

Zexion ripped his eyes away from his book and peered down at it. As his eye swept over the picture, I felt a bout of anxiety come over me. What if I really had made his nose too big? My leg twitching with nervous energy, I watched him. His emotionless mask never faltered.

Finally looking at me, he said, "Does my nose really look that big?"

I knew it, I thought dejectedly. I'm a pathetic excuse for an artist. I should just quit now while I'm ahead and resign myself to being a hobo for the rest of my pitiful life.

My disappointment must have been showing on my face because the next thing I knew, Zexion was rubbing my shoulder, saying, "I kid, I kid. Honestly, I don't think I've ever seen anyone draw this realistically. If I ever need a sketch artist, you'll definitely the first person I call."

"Thanks," I said, letting a shy smile grace my lips.

Class went by quietly, Ms. Lockhart only stopping her lecture once to throw an eraser at a group of guys near the back of the room who were talking. She gave us our first novel to read, The Jungle, and assigned the first five chapters to be read by the end of the week. Zexion and I had drama class together next, so we walked down to the auditorium when the bell rang.

Walking side by side, I couldn't keep myself from glancing over at him. I noticed he was a whole head taller than me. I also took in how he walked—head down, shoulders slightly hunched over, one hand in a pocket. His strides were long though, and I had to speed walk a little to keep up with him.

As we entered the auditorium, a blond man with a British accent up on the stage said, "Come, children! Fill in the first two rows."

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Kairi waving me over and plopped down in the chair next to her. Zexion hesitated a moment, but then came and sat in the seat on the other side of me as the man on the stage, who introduced himself as our teacher, Mr. Luxord Princeton, began his very dramatic lecture on the beginnings of theater and some of the basics of acting.

"Now," he said when he had concluded his lecture, "let me give you kids a tour of backstage." We followed after him as he proceeded to show us backstage, which consisted of dressing rooms, a costume room, and a prop storage closet.

"Oh, and one more thing before I forget," he said as we came back to the stage, and pointed up. We looked up and saw a catwalk above us. "You guys are prohibited from using the catwalk unless you are assigned to work the lighting for a production. And if I catch anyone else up there, there'll be bloody hell to pay. Have I made myself clear?"

As we all nodded, the bell rang, signaling our freedom. "See you, Naminé," Zexion said as we walked out of the auditorium. He headed to the exit, and I stood there, watching his retreating form. I opened my mouth to say good-bye, but I chickened out at the last second and snapped my jaw shut.

Sighing and mentally hitting myself, I made my way down to the band room. As I turned the corner, I saw the flute and piccolo players—one of whom I recognized as Yuffie from physics class—practicing their part for the biggest number of the half-time show. After only a few hours, I had to say they sounded pretty good. But, even through the sounds of their beautiful harmonization and synchronicity, I could pick out a distinct harmony that I knew for a fact did not belong in that song.

As Demyx would say, I thought, sounds like somebody's doodling. My definition of doodling was different from Demyx's definition of the word though. Doodling to me, like it does to most people, is defined as drawing random things in your notebook. Doodling in Demyx's vocabulary however is the playing any music during class, practices or performances that is irrelevant to what you should be playing or just plain unnecessary, like an impromptu solo. And someone was definitely doodling.

"Yuffie, play the right part, dammit!" one of them shouted.

Shaking my head, I walked into the band room. I scanned the faces in the room and saw Olette. Now in a tank top and a pair of shorts, she was sitting in front of the piano on its bench, twirling her baton in between her fingers.

"Hey, Naminé," she said as I approached.

"Hey," I said, pulling up an empty chair and sitting down. Putting my bag down, Olette asked me a question that caught me off guard.

"So, what's going on between you and Zexion?"

"Huh?"

"What's going on between you and Zexion?" she repeated. "C'mon, tell me."

"W-why would something be going on between us?" I stammered, my cheeks flushing.

"Because you're the only person I've ever seen him bother to talk to." I shot her a skeptical look. "No, really. He's been a complete loner ever since he moved here to live with his uncle a few years back."

"Really?" I asked.

She nodded. "I've heard a rumor it has to do with his parents."

"What happened to them?"

"I don't really know," she said with shrug. "No one knows the official story, but I bet whatever happened must've been terribly tragic for him to completely isolate himself.

"Anyway, he's always had his nose stuck in a book, and the only time I've ever heard him speak was when a teacher called on him in class. The only explanation that I can come up with for why he's opening up a bit to you at the moment, and I know it sounds crazy, is that, one way or another, you've sparked his interest enough for him to come out of isolation."

I sat there for a moment, quietly letting my brain absorb this new information. Honestly, it felt like my heartstrings were being plucked at like the strings of a guitar, and I felt like I could empathize with him because I had lost my parents too. I remembered that when my parents had died it had taken me a much longer time (almost two years actually) to accept it than it had for Demyx. During that point in my life I had lost a lot of weight, constantly had nightmares, spent most of my time alone and had done horribly in my academics. My art had even sucked. When I had come to terms with it, I felt better, and I went on with my life.

Maybe that's it, I thought. If that's the case, and something really had happened to parents, then maybe isolating himself was his way of trying to cope, and he's just recently come to term with it.

Or maybe he's just shy guy who's just starting to come out of his shell, a voice in my head argued.

Either way I looked at it, Olette's idea that I interested him enough to come out of his shell seemed a little far-fetched. It would have worked well for part of the premise for a romance novel, but reality didn't really work like that. Still, it was a thought.

"Hello?" Olette said, waving her in front of my face. "Naminé, you in there?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just a little spacey, that's all."

Walking out of what looked like it would be his office, Demyx took to his podium. His sitar slung across his back, he shouted, "Band!" Everything went quiet at the sound of what I knew to be his signal for silence. He smiled. "Well, you certainly are promising bunch."

His eyes scanned the room until they landed on me. "Nami, you stay here and decorate," he said, and I nodded. "The rest of you, we're going outside for drill practice. Everyone, to the practice lot!"

The band filed out the door after Demyx, and then I was alone. Looking about the room, I decided to start with the walls. Using a roll of tape, I started sticking little paper instruments with names written on them in permanent marker to the wall by their instrument section. Once that was finished, I decided to move on to the bulletin boards. I got the stapler and began decorating the boring, cork boards. I was almost finished with the second to last board when I ran out of staples.

"Shoot," I said aloud, and made my way over to the supply closet. "Hopefully Demyx remembered to buy an extra box of staples."

I looked through the supply closet for several minutes before I noticed a box of staples sitting on the edge of the top shelf. Knowing that even if I tried jumping I'd never be able to reach it, I grabbed the nearest chair and climbed onto it.

Just I was about to grab the box, the sound of a chilling piano chord filled the silent air, making me freeze on the spot. How had someone come in without me hearing them? I hadn't heard the door open or footsteps or anything.

Finding the ability to move again, I turned to look at the piano. Sitting there in front of it, fingers gliding gracefully over the ivory keys, was a guy—another student from the look of his white shirt, green tie and black pants. I could see his muscles were toned as my eyes traveled from his hands to his arms. He had long silver hair that reminded me of a river under the light of the full moon, his bangs hanging down over eyes.

My eyes drifted back down to his hands, my ears taking in the song they played with the compression of each key. It sounded as beautiful as it did sorrowful. It felt like my heartstrings were being yanked at as I listened. I'd never heard a song that had truly moved me to the verge of tears.

Well…at least not until that moment.

As he struck the final chord, I felt a tear run down my cheek. Sniffling, I wiped the tear away, released a breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding and clapped. He definitely deserved a round of applause for playing such a beautiful piece.

He looked up at me and I almost swooned as I got a good look at his face. He had the face you normally expect to see on a male supermodel. However that wasn't what had grabbed my attention. What my eyes were really drawn to were his own eyes. They were a captivating, vibrant aqua green.

As his aqua green orbs stared back into my blue ones, I saw surprise in them. I tried looking for other emotions in those eyes, but all I could see was…the wall?

I blinked, and, looking him over again, I realized I could see through him to the opposite wall, like he was some sort of hologram. I looked back at his face to see that he was still staring at me intently.

I felt the color draining from my face, and a lump caught in my throat. My heart was pounding heavily in my ears. Was I really seeing what I thought I was seeing?

Finding my voice, I managed to ask in quiet voice, "What…what are you?"

With one corner of his lips lifting up, he looked away, and then…

He was gone.

Hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to review!