author's note: Yeah, I know, this doesn't even have a title, and was last edited in 2009. I should be so ashamed. Worse, it was before I took the break from writing fanfic. It was after this break that I decided it was too much work to deliberately write fanfic worse than my own "original fiction". Which means that this 'fic has some charmingly (and not-so-charmingly) awkward phrases. They've grown on me.
#9.
Prologue:
It started out as just another day at Casper High, sole high school of Amity Park, which was a small town somewhere in the eastern half of the United States.
Yes, everyone had to acclimate to their new status; it was the second week of school, and the freshmen were wandering around lost and confused, and the sophomores hadn't yet realised they were no longer the newbies, and the juniors hadn't yet realised that this was the year when school would start to pressure them to prepare for "going farther, with a university degree", and the seniors hadn't yet realised that they ought to be counting credits and seeing if they would really be graduating this year.
There were a few seniors who didn't have to acclimate to a new status. Jasmine Fenton, aged eighteen, was still to be found wandering the halls of Casper High, but most people agreed it was probably because her entrance thesis (probably on youth psychology as affected by family pressure) did not yet have enough information. In reality, she had taken enough classes and shown enough potential to become an assistant teacher, although she was still writing her entrance thesis on ghost envy in her spare time. Jazz Fenton was really here for one reason, however, no matter what she did to hide it, and that one reason was to provide support and fulfil her duties as a reserve member of the ghost-fighting trio-turned-quartet: Team Phantom.
Amity Park was not a normal town, you see. Ghosts—mysterious otherworldly beings that they were—had decided that Amity Park was their home, and they wanted the humans out. Or, at least, they wanted the humans scared out of their minds. Consequently, not a day went by that some ghost wasn't wreaking havoc, somewhere in town. The havoc involved varied from ghost to ghost, and the collateral damage likewise, but there were rarely any casualties, and the citizens of Amity Park, for the most part, knew that the reason nothing truly horrific had happened was because of the actions of their very own resident superhero, the white-haired youth known as Danny Phantom.
They had called him "Invisobill" on a time, and they had thought him to be like the other ghosts—malevolent and dangerous. But then, his name and image were re-evaluated when he had undertaken a quest to save the town from the clutches of the ghost king, Pariah Dark. As Pariah Dark had sucked Amity Park into the ghosts' home world (also known as the Ghost Zone), and as Danny Phantom had restored it, saving them from the rule of Pariah Dark, most people were willing to overlook or forget about the incident involving a hostage mayor at City Hall. Danny Phantom had redeemed himself in the eyes of most of the citizens of Amity Park.
Ghost attacks were rather commonplace, and there were a number of common culprits. Few people knew any of the ghosts by name (except, perhaps, for the Box Ghost, who shouted his name as loud as he could whenever he appeared), but they would usually recognise them on sight. The attacks were so commonplace, in fact, that there were protocols and ghost drills drawn up. No one thought twice about ghosts anymore, and, if you had asked a resident of Amity Park if they believed in ghosts, you would be quite fortunate indeed to run into some lucky or delusional sap who said "no".
That was the flavour of normal for Amity Park, and it was true in its high school, also. Said high school was, in fact, a common focus of the ghosts of Amity Park. From the pathetic Box Ghost to the intimidating mysterious steel-plated ghost (who did not seem as fond of shouting his name out repeatedly), Casper High had seen more different ghosts, and had had more ghosts attack, than any other building in the city, including the Fenton family residence.
Jazz Fenton's parents, you see, were the ones who had built a portal connecting Amity Park and the Ghost Zone (and designed the ghost drills and established the ghost protocols), and most of the ghosts who ravaged Amity Park had come through from there. But it was mysteriously not the epicentre of ghostly activity.
Here it was, a sunny September day in Amity Park, and the students of Casper High were groaning, complaining, and dragging their feet through the halls on the way to their classes, and all was normal.
That morning, as happened once a week or more, the star quarterback of the American Football team associated with the school (The Casper High Ravens), a junior named Dashiel Baxter, casually picked up skinny, small Daniel Fenton, the younger brother of Dash's long-time crush, Jazz, and shoved him unceremoniously into his own locker, walking away and dusting his hands off at the same time. Consequently, as was also hardly unusual, chronically tired Danny Fenton arrived late to class, earning him what was, surprisingly, his first detention of the year.
Then, halfway through the first class of the day, Danny Fenton left class to go to the bathroom, again, leaving Mr. Lancer, the vice principal and a bit of a Renaissance man, to lecture on about symbolism or some such for five minutes, before a pile of assorted meat products fell into a pile on the floor near the door, prompting a few of the students (most vocally the dark-skinned "techno-geek" Tucker Foley, who happened to be a friend of the currently absent Danny Fenton) to mourn that this had to happen before lunch. Could they really eat their meals, later, without wondering what sort of ectoplasmic residue might remain?
A plump female green ghost with wiry grey hair and wearing a pink bonnet, pink dress, and white apron flew through the wall, with Danny Phantom hot on her heels, causing a few of the girls in the room (most prominent among them the Latina girl known as Paulina, the most desired girl in the school) to swoon. Paulina had had a crush of some sort on him ever since he had saved her, back when he first became Public Ghost Enemy Number One, and she wasn't shy about proclaiming his innocence—or his dreaminess, making her the polar opposite of her former friend, Valerie Gray.
Valerie Gray sat there with her arms crossed, muttering furiously under her breath, cursing the "ghost boy", Danny Phantom, who had revealed her secret identity and job of fighting ghosts to her father, who, being rather overprotective of her as it was, had immediately confiscated her ghost hunting equipment, and now monitored her use of it. Especially after her suit had acted on its own, destroying her father's place of employment with wanton blasts of its gun. He had insisted that she wait for a few weeks into school, to create a good first impression with her teachers. Then, he would give her back her equipment.
She hated this feeling of helplessness, and she hated the fact that Danny Phantom, the ghost she had become a ghost hunter in order to catch (that she might exact her revenge for the time he and his ghost dog had cost her father his job) had passed right in front of her, and she hadn't been able to do anything. She glared at her binder, and attempted to focus on the lesson. There was nothing she could do. Damn, she hated that.
Her gaze had moved to the door, knowing class was almost over, when her crush, Danny Fenton, walked back in, looking still rather worn. She resisted the urge to smile and wave, reminding herself firmly that she had broken up with Danny for his own good, to protect him from the vicious ghosts that might try to hurt him to get to her. Here was another thing she hated Danny Phantom for. He had destroyed her suit, doubtless believing that she was inside it, and that was what had prompted the realisation (for Valerie was neither stupid nor selfish) that as long as Danny Phantom was loose, anyone known to be involved with Valerie would be in danger. She had broken her own heart twice that day, first with that realisation, and then with the look on his face when she broke up with him.
Nonetheless, she felt his mere presence reassure her. She had made the right choice. He was safe. Although, it looked as if his arm had reacquainted itself with the floor again. He must have tripped and fallen over his feet. She smiled, just a little, despite herself. Just another day.
Samantha Manson (woe betide you should you ever call her by her full name) whispered something quietly to Danny, who nodded curtly, and Sam handed over a few pieces of paper. Class notes, thought Valerie bitterly. Why wasn't she the one passing Danny her notes?
Class let out soon after that, and Danny tried to multitask by both reading Sam's notes and walking to his next class simultaneously. He ran right into Dash's best friend, Kwan. However, as luck would have it, Dash wasn't there, and nor were Kwan's other buddies, and so, glancing around surreptitiously, Kwan accepted Danny's hasty apology and let him go. Danny paid attention to where he was walking, and made it safely to his next class.
All in all, the day was ordinary for all the junior class, until it came time for lunch. Danny, Sam, Tucker, Valerie, Paulina, Paulina's friend, who was a blonde named Star, Dash Baxter, Kwan, and many others stood in line for the one meal that the lunch lady could cook well. Even she didn't realise that she occasionally had a little invisible help in the matter.
Danny Fenton made it to his seat without either being tripped or falling, taking his seat next to the goth girl, Sam Manson, and the techno-geek, Tucker Foley. As he did so, he hoped that this time, he might eat the entirety of his lunch, without the arrival of a ghost to upset things.
As if on cue, his ghost sense went off. He stood up, preparing to run, but nothing appeared. Nothing changed. No one appeared alarmed but him. Even Valerie, sitting dejectedly at her own separate table, seemed unaware. But, his ghost sense had never failed to warn him of a threat, nor had it ever claimed there was a ghost when there wasn't one. The icy blue mist usually only limited itself to a single gust, however, and this time, he counted, he exhaled cold air three times. That meant that there were several ghosts afoot (afloat?). There was nothing for it but to look for them nearby. After all, capturing malevolent spectres was the responsibility of Team Phantom.
And Danny Fenton took responsibility very seriously. But, he decided, as people continued to eat and laugh, completely unaware, it was Team Phantom's job to capture malevolent spectres. And these ghosts, whoever they were, did not seem bent on inflicting harm. Maybe, Danny thought hopefully, they would just leave without causing any trouble.
But even as he thought this, duty nagged, nipping at his conscience. Danny was neither selfish nor overly trusting. Too many ghosts had tried to pull the wool over his eyes, most notably his archenemy, Vlad Plasmius. I need to go check it out, he thought to himself, whereupon he realised that, always before, the ghosts had found him, one way or the other. Ghosts could turn intangible, passing through solid objects, or invisible, and, not needing to breathe, could head underground. They could fly. How was Danny supposed to find the ghosts, if, as it seemed, they were taking pains not to be found? There was, in reality, nothing he could do.
"Hey, Danny. Is something wrong?" Tucker asked, pulling out his PDA just in case it might be useful. Or maybe it was because he couldn't bear to have it out of his hands for very long. Sam's glare, directed at Paulina, was replaced with a worried frown as she glanced in his direction.
"My ghost sense went off, but I don't see anything," he admitted, remembering all too well a time he had sensed ghosts that no one but him seemed able to see. But that had been Youngblood, visible only to kids, and Danny had been able to see him due to his innocence and youth. He wondered, sometimes, if he could even see Youngblood now. It had been over half a year since their last encounter. And it had also been over half a year since the day his innocence had been taken from him. Over half a year, and the nightmares were still vivid.
"Danny, what's wrong?" Sam asked, and her face lost its usual disaffected look. Her hand reached out without her seeming to notice it.
The shadow passed out from behind Danny's blue eyes, and he grinned weakly.
"Well, it seems too much to hope for, but they're not causing trouble, so why waste a good thing?"
Only two individuals as close to Danny as Sam and Tucker would notice the insincerity, the dimness of his smile, the slight shaking in his voice. They glanced at each other. Was he thinking about the bad future again?
"Relax, guys. Let's just hang out and enjoy our lunch for once." He tried for expansive confidence, and succeeded somewhat. "I'm sure it's nothing. I probably just imagined it."
Danny's eyes settled on Valerie. The pretty, dark-skinned girl still hadn't moved, looking as peaceful as ever. Was he losing it?
Chapter One: The Transfers
The next day at school, Danny Fenton was not shoved into his locker, and instead received detention after falling asleep in his seat. After sleeping through most of his first class—despite his best efforts to stay awake—he had recovered enough energy to keep himself awake until lunch.
Fate was obviously not feeling as kind to him today. On his way to his usual lunch table, Danny was so busy focussing on keeping his eyes open that he walked right into someone, His tray tilted backwards in the manner of a catapult, sending his food flying onto whoever it was who stood behind him. Oh, right. Of course it was Dash.
He glanced at the girl he had run into, a girl who might have been related to Sam or Danny himself. Short and small, she was filled with a wiry grace and a sense of hidden strength. Her hair was thick and black, like both of theirs, with a single lock hanging over her forehead, and her eyes were a deep cerulean blue that resembled Danny Fenton's. She executed a hasty bow, her hands on her thighs.
"I'm sorry; please forgive me for not watching where I was going," she said in a demure, quiet voice, her eyes downcast.
Danny knew he had scant seconds to reply before a dripping Dash overcame his surprise and commenced what he considered a well-earnt wailing session. He smiled reassuringly, because she seemed to want a confidence boost.
"Actually, I think I ran into you. So, no hard feelings?"
She had no chance to reply. The girl's eyes widened milliseconds before it happened. Dash picked Danny up by the back of his shirt collar like a mother cat lifting her kittens. An angry mother cat, picking them up in order to scold them.
"Hey, Fen-turd. How about apologising to me, huh?"
"I'm very sorry, Dash, and I really didn't mean to—it was an accident."
His voice increased in pace and pitch as he continued, starting off sounding repentant, and ending desperate. The girl glanced around, as if looking for someone to intervene. No one in Casper High, however, was foolish enough to interfere with Dash Baxter. Valerie, Sam, or Tucker would have, but they were too far away to do anything.
Dash twisted his hand around so that Danny was facing him, enjoying the look of fright on Danny's face, not intelligent or observant enough to notice how fake it was. Danny had defeated far worse than Dash Baxter. One, two, Dash was rather unimaginatively punching Danny in the same place—his side. He was not punching him half as hard as he could have, of course—he had his limits and self-control, and he knew that if he did anything too serious, he would get in trouble, star quarterback or not. So he was surprised to see the first bright stripe of blood begin to seep its way through Fenton's signature white t-shirt. What the hell was going on? Since when did bruises bleed?
WHAM! Someone's powerful fist connected with his back, and the pain was so severe he didn't even notice he'd dropped the loser. He turned around to face a boy about his own age, or maybe a bit younger, with spiky orange hair and a scowl, wearing a white t-shirt over a purple shirt, and faded blue jeans. He did not look like he could possibly have packed that powerful a punch, but Dash knew he had. He barely registered the boy drawing back his arm for another punch when it hit him—right in the face!
"Hey," he said, in a tone suggesting forced calm. "You wanna explain to me what you think you're doing, beating up someone just because of an accident? He apologised, so just let it go already, alright?"
Dash reached a hand up to his bleeding nose, giving the boy, who was just casually standing there, with his hands in his pockets, a wary glance. This was not someone to mess with.
"I said, 'leave him alone', do you hear me?"
He sounded angrier this time.
Dash nodded, hoping the boy would be satisfied, but the frown—impossibly enough—actually deepened.
"You gonna apologise?" asked the orange-haired boy.
Dash glanced around for support, but it appeared that his posse was even more frightened of the new boy than they were of Dash
"I'm sorry," said Dash, quietly.
"Damn right you are," said the new boy with a scoff. "You better watch what you're punching, or Amity Park's gonna have a new ghost—you."
And he turned his attention to Danny, who was still on the floor, shocked that someone had actually troubled themselves to save him. The girl he had run into was sitting next to him, her pretty blue summer dress now stained with dirt, and it shamed Danny that he was the cause.
"Hey, are you alright?" she asked, watching as he pulled himself to his feet.
"Yeah, I'm—" Danny cut off; he had forgotten the knife wound in his side, forgotten it had started bleeding again. He managed to suppress a wince.
"Alright? But you're bleeding! We need to get you to the nurse!" the girl said, bending over him worriedly, before turning to the redheaded boy, as if expecting advice.
"I'm fine; it's just a scratch; it looks worse than it is; it doesn't even hurt" said Danny hastily. He didn't want anyone to lift up his shirt and notice the clean, sharp edges of the cut, the sort of wound that only comes from a blade. Using every ounce of willpower he had, he kept the pain from showing on his face as he carefully stood, watched constantly by the two strangers. "Sorry again for running into you," Danny said again, with an embarrassed, shy grin. One hand found its way to the back of his head, rubbing his hair absent-mindedly. "I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you new?"
And hopefully they wouldn't notice that he'd changed the subject.
"I'm Rukia Kuchiki," the girl said, bowing again. "And this is Ichigo Kurosaki."
"Yo," said Ichigo. Danny noticed that the scowl was still in place, and wondered if maybe it was stuck there permanently. It was a silly thought, but Ichigo didn't seem to be angry anymore.
"I'm Danny. Danny Fenton."
"We're transfer students from Japan," said Rukia, in a higher pitched, chipper voice. "Our school, Karakura High, is taking part in a foreign exchange program, and we were chosen to go." She gave an excited, cheerful smile, which seemed quite odd considering her seemingly shy behaviour before. Ichigo was still just standing there, watching.
Sam Manson had made her way over at last. "Danny, you're bleeding, are you okay?" she asked, despite knowing better.
"Sam, I'm fine, don't worry about it. You know I—" he cut off what he was saying abruptly, switching tracks. "You know what a klutz I am. It's not as bad as it looks, really."
Sam looked at him, puzzled, and then remembered that they weren't alone, and that the transfer students were listening to everything they were saying. To Danny's relief, they didn't notice, or dismissed as unimportant, Danny's hastily redirected sentence.
"Sorry about that," Sam said, sounding embarrassed. "I'm Sam Manson by the way. And this is Tucker Foley."
Danny turned, surprised, to find that Tucker was, indeed, standing where Sam had gestured, still clutching his PDA, and deliberately devoting all his attention to the gadget. It would only raise suspicion to call attention to Danny's injury again, although he couldn't help but worry. They could confront Danny later, repeatedly asking, "Dude, are you sure you're alright?". Right now, if they asked, they were sure Danny wouldn't appreciate it.
"These are Rukia Kuchiki and Ichigo Kurosaki," Danny said. He had to slow down when he pronounced the foreign names, but so far, his recall was doing him proud… honed on having to remember every detail of his parents' descriptions of their inventions, and further sharpened to a point from having to interpret his archenemy, Vlad Plasmius's, veiled threats and double meanings, Danny was used to having to break down words and sentences and remember them later. Several times in the past year, he'd had to fill Sam, Tucker, or both in on what was going on, and the more often he could get the exact words, the more accurately he could plan.
Ichigo said nothing, but Rukia bowed to Sam and Tucker in turn.
"I'll just, uh, get another lunch; you guys go on ahead without me," said Danny with a deceptively carefree smile. He hurried off back to the lunch line; he hardly ever got to eat as it was.
"We haven't gotten our food yet; we just arrived," said Rukia. Looking back at the line, she found that Ichigo was somehow ahead of Danny, and that Danny seemed to be thinking about something, and hadn't realised whom he was standing behind. She hurried over with a wave and a, "It was nice to meet you."
Danny came back to himself before he even had to pay for his lunch, when he heard the lunch lady say Ichigo's last name. "You have fifty dollars left in your account, Mr. Kurosaki."
Kurosaki. Wait a minute. He had just met someone named Kurosaki… and he was with that girl….
"I'm glad that actually worked," said Rukia quietly behind him, sounding relieved, low enough that she was obviously talking to herself, but Danny's trained ears caught the slight noise. Glad what worked?
Danny spun around, surprised to see her, and then faced forwards again when the lunch lady called him.
"Mr. Fenton?" she asked, reclaiming his attention.
Danny paid for his lunch, again, and noticed that Ichigo was still standing there, surveying the crowd, doubtless trying to figure out where they should sit. High school could be brutal if you fell in with a despised group, but that didn't seem to be what was giving him trouble. He seemed to be far away, thinking about something.
"You could sit with us, if you like," said Danny hesitantly. He did owe Ichigo, after all, so he doubted Sam would complain, and Ichigo didn't hunt ghosts like Valerie did, either.
Ichigo didn't respond.
"Ichigo?" Danny asked.
"Really?" asked Rukia, in an overly excited, happy voice. It was too excited and happy to be quite real. "Thanks ever so much," she said.
Danny almost missed the split-second worried glance she cast in Ichigo's direction before she latched onto Ichigo's arm, dragging him bodily over in the direction of Sam Manson and Tucker Foley's table. He made no move to resist, and in fact seemed quite unaware of her actions. Danny was surprised that he managed not to spill his food. Rukia had left hers on the counter. She pushed Ichigo down onto a seat, and went back for her tray. Ichigo shook his head, and seemed to come to.
"Sorry," he said. "I guess I kinda spaced out there for a second." He rubbed the back of his head with his hand like Danny did whenever he was embarrassed.
"I expect you're tired," said Sam. "It's a long flight from Japan, after all."
Ichigo looked briefly very confused. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Well, we've actually been here a few days, you know, settling in." He sounded nervous about something. "Where could they have gone…?" he asked, and he had to be asking himself, because Rukia wasn't around. Whom was he talking about?
But this second question was answered, when, a moment later, a loud voice called over the usual noise and bustle of the lunchroom, and, while hardly as loud as voices could be, something about it, some quality it had, pierced the air and weighted the ears, making it seem louder and more commanding than it would have otherwise.
"Ichigo!" it called. "Rukia! Where the hell are you?!"
And everyone in the cafeteria stilled and turned, as one, to the owner of the voice. He stood there, looking quite irritated, peering around the room.
He was dressed in outmoded hippie clothing, with a tie-dyed shirt and loose pants. He was a lot more muscular than Ichigo, but not as much as Dash, but there was still the sense about him that he was stronger than he looked. He appeared to have decided to replace his eyebrows with thick, sharp black lines tattooed where they should have been. He had long blood-red hair, pulled back so that the ends went in every direction. Right now, he was scanning the room with a look of extreme impatience and frustration. The crowd took one look and prepared to move at a moment's notice—they did not want to stand in his path. He looked dangerous, even though he was probably only about fifteen or sixteen.
Danny, Sam, Tucker, Jazz, and Valerie, who were used to danger, were among the first individuals in the room to notice the people standing with the redhead.
There were four of them, all of them shorter than the boy who had shouted (who was a bit taller than Ichigo). Directly behind him were two girls, one with short, spiky black hair a bit like Ichigo's style, and the other with long, straight orange hair that matched Ichigo's hair colour.
The black-haired girl was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and was suspiciously scanning the room. She looked to be preoccupied or angry about something, with a deliberate attempt at nonchalance. She seemed tense, ready to move at a moment's notice, and she seemed, judging by her reactions whenever anyone moved, to be guarding the orange-haired girl.
The orange-haired girl did not appear quite aware of what was going on. There were traces of nervousness and anxiety, but she seemed to mostly be looking around herself, curious. Her content expression looked much more sincere than Rukia's. She actually clapped her hands together in front of her as though pleased with something a couple of times. She immediately drew the attention of most of the boys in the room, due to her… unusually generous assets, but she seemed completely unaware of the effect she was having on them. Something glittered in her orange hair, but they couldn't tell what, at this distance.
Behind the two girls were two boys, one slightly behind the other.
The one in front had shoulder-length medium brown hair, and appeared to currently be bawling his eyes out, despite the circumstances. He was dressed in long-sleeved, dark clothes. He kept snatching nervous glances at the room.
The final member of the group was calm and bored-looking. He was holding up what looked to be a cell-phone, punching in numbers one -handed, whilst occasionally—without bothering to look—saying something and patting the brown-haired boy on the back, which was what both began and prolonged the other boy's hysterics. The final member had sleek, shiny black hair in a triangular hairstyle that was mysteriously much thicker at the bottom. He seemed friendly enough, and fairly ordinary—of all the members in the group, he alone seemed like he might be able to fit in in a crowd.
"Damn it, Renji! Do you always have to draw so much attention?!" Ichigo muttered under his breath. Then, he turned to the rest of them, with a huge, nervous grin on his face. Danny was surprised he'd stopped scowling, but thought that that fact made it obvious the smile was fake.
"Can you excuse me for a minute? I have to go talk to him," he said in a panicky rush, pushing himself back from the table and standing up, and hurried off towards the group of five before anyone could respond. Rukia returned with her tray and sat down, watching the group as intently as anyone else. Ichigo went over to the boy with red hair (Renji, was it?) and immediately began yelling at him.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, causing such a commotion? Don't you remember we're trying to not draw attention to ourselves?" he said, still sounding a bit panicked.
"Whoa, calm down, Ichigo," Renji said, sounding genuinely surprised. "And what's that supposed to mean? You and Rukia got ahead of us. How the hell else were we supposed to find you?"
Ichigo took several deep, calming breaths. Renji, he reminded himself firmly, could not help being stupid and clueless. This was not the first time that Renji had pulled such a stunt. But even Ichigo had known that the best way to find any member of their group was to look for that individual's signature spiritual pressure. And if even he, who was atrocious at both controlling and recognising spiritual pressure, had known that, Renji ought to have, too. Although, from what he had heard from Rukia and seen first-hand, Renji was almost as bad at this as he was.
Ichigo calmed down. The tension left him, and he looked the group over, making sure everyone was there and alright.
"Forget it," he said, in a level voice. "Just hurry up and sit down and eat."
He jerked his head over to encompass everyone, and they started to walk past him, everyone in the cafeteria still looking at Renji, who was beginning to look self-conscious. Ichigo considered talking to his other friends, but then just led the way over to the table.
"Hey," he said to Danny. "Do you mind if my friends sit here, too?"
"Um, no, go right ahead," said Danny nervously. "It's alright with us, right, guys?"
"No problem," said Tucker in a cheery voice. Danny couldn't tell if it was sincere or not. On the one hand, Tucker had a chance to try his "charm" on two girls who didn't yet know him. On the other hand, the boy with the red hair seemed pretty tough. And speaking of the redhead….
"This is my cousin, Renji Abarai," said Ichigo, indicating the red-haired boy. Looking at them more closely, Danny could see the resemblance. Renji's face was shaped similarly, and they had similar noses as well. Ichigo was handsome despite his not-so-permanent scowl, which had returned full force—it seemed to add something to his allure. Renji's face was eager and earnest. He was smiling nervously at them, and they realised that the first impressions were maybe not quite so accurate. Ichigo's cousin, huh? Danny could see the resemblance already, both in attitude and appearance.
"Yeah, thanks for letting us sit here," said Renji. "We really appreciate—"
But he was cut off by a sudden attack from Rukia, whose foot had just planted itself in his back. The force of the impact pushed his face into the table. Not content with this, Rukia put him in a headlock.
"You idiot! What were you thinking?! What were you doing, calling attention to us like that? Sometimes, Renji, I swear you're stupider than Ichigo!"
Ichigo was watching with evident satisfaction. He had sat down and was currently eating. How nice it was to see Rukia beat someone else up for a change. Still, he should really intervene.
"That's enough, Rukia," he said sternly, his voice suddenly authoritative and sure. "It's too late to change what's happened. We can talk about this later. Right now, you're drawing more attention than he did."
It was true. The whole cafeteria had marked Renji down as dangerous, and Rukia as unassuming and weak. Imagine their shock when the weak, harmless girl started beating up the tough guy twice her size.
Rukia released Renji, obeying Ichigo silently. Danny blinked in surprise. Renji and Rukia both seemed to defer to Ichigo. Was he the leader of their group?
"Do you mind if I sit here? I know you offered, before, but it's been awhile, and…."
Valerie Gray trailed off, suddenly unsure of herself. When she had seen all those new students head over to Danny's table, it had seemed like such a good idea to come over herself. Here at last was an excuse to take a second chance at the offer of friendship the trio had once extended to her, back when she had been too conceited and self-centred to consider the offer of a bunch of losers. She had always felt that she had missed an important opportunity. She had regretted it once she had come to realise that the so-called "losers" weren't that bad. She'd hung out for awhile with them while she and Danny had been dating, although Sam and Tucker hadn't seemed to trust her to sit with them (still bearing a grudge for her old attitude, if she recalled Sam's explanation correctly). Then, she had dumped Danny (for his own good, she reminded herself again), and had gone back to being alone. But now, maybe, if the offer still stood….
"Valerie!" Danny said, sounding pleased. "Sure, go right ahead." He smiled at her, even as Sam and Tucker shot him disbelieving looks, before they turned to watch Valerie warily.
"So, who're your new friends?" she asked conversationally, trying to forget that smile. Trying not to smile back. But, how could she sit here, if she was going to keep herself under constant rigid control?
"Oh! That's right! We didn't finish introducing ourselves. I'm so sorry," the orange-haired girl bowed repeatedly. Her voice was quiet and sweet. "I'm Orihime Inoue. I'm very pleased to meet you."
"I'm Tatsuki Arisawa, Orihime's big sister. You mess with her, you mess with me, got it?" said the black-haired girl. She sounded and looked confident and cocky.
"She's the second strongest girl in Japan!" said Orihime in what was clearly supposed to be a conspiratorial voice.
"I'm Keigo Asano!" said the brown-haired boy dramatically. "I'm the funniest guy in the world! Hahahahaha!"
"Calm down, Mr. Asano," said the black-haired boy, who was still messing with his phone. "They'll think you're crazy."
Keigo burst into tears… again. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop being so formal, Mizuiro? It's unnerving!"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Asano," said Mizuiro, flipping shut his phone and turning to face his new acquaintances at last. "I'm Mizuiro Kojima."
Ichigo looked over at Valerie. "My name's Ichigo Kurosaki. The idiot over there is my cousin, Renji Abarai, and the midget is Rukia Kuchiki."
"Who are you calling a midget, Strawberry?" asked Rukia angrily. Danny noted that the sweet, friendly air she usually carried was completely gone.
"Gah! How many times do I have to say it? My name means 'He Who Protects', dammit! It does not mean 'Strawberry'!"
This appeared to be something of a sore spot for Ichigo, Danny noticed. He watched as Ichigo let Rukia beat him up, because surely, with how powerful Ichigo had already shown himself to be, he had to be allowing it, right?
Valerie looked on, bemused, along with most of the new kids, who seemed surprised themselves.
"Rukia. Please stop beating up Ichigo. I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, really," said Orihime hesitantly.
Rukia let Ichigo go, and he sat down rather heavily. Renji was snickering at Ichigo.
"Ha, ha. Look how the great Ichigo Kurosaki got beat up by a girl half his size."
"Shut it, Renji. If I remember correctly, she was beating you up a little while ago," he muttered back.
"Alright, we should probably get some food now, before lunch ends. We can still get something to eat if we hurry," Rukia said, in a calm, steady, authoritative voice, quite unlike what Danny had heard her use thus far. How could she beat Ichigo and Renji up, and then act as if nothing had happened?
Renji, Orihime, Tatsuki, Keigo, and Mizuiro went over to the lunch line, and Ichigo and Rukia ate their lunches. Despite the force behind Rukia's blows, neither Renji nor Ichigo seemed terribly injured; they didn't wince or limp or rub at the areas where her feet had connected. It was as if they were used to it—or had received far worse.
"So, how long are you all staying?" asked Sam, figuring someone had to say something, after what had just happened. Ichigo and Rukia exchanged a nervous look, which did not go unnoticed by anyone at the table.
"…a few months, I think?" Rukia asked.
"It's a semester study, I think," said Ichigo. "But they might want us to stay longer. After all, we'll have missed half the school year…."
He shuddered at something, and returned to his food. The Casper High students wondered just what they were missing in the puzzle presented by the new students.