Darien pushed open the double doors that would grant him access to Azabu Academy. "Ready?" he asked, flashing a grin to Sean.
"Ready as ever," said Sean, smiling back.
"Okay then. Where is your
locker?"
"I was hoping you could tell me," said Sean, pulling out a small slip
of paper.
"Hn…this is strange. No kanji
anywhere on this," thought Darien.1 He arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at
his companion, who was twiddling his thumbs and staring at a fixed point on the
walls. "Looks like your locker is in the North Wing," he replied.
"And that is…where, exactly?"
Darien smiled. "The lockers are
arranged in alphabetical order. A-J is
in the North Wing, K-R is in the East Wing, and S-Z is in the West Wing."
"What about the South Wing?" asked Sean.
"That's where the gym and the pool are," said Darien.
"Ah. That makes sense," said
Sean, hoping he sounded fairly intelligent. He had forgotten how smart Darien was, and Sean knew that his own I.Q.
wasn't in the same league as Darien's. He had the sickening feeling that he was in way over his head.
"Don't worry about it. This
school can be really confusing at first," said Darien. "It took me a week to find all of my classes
when I first started coming here."
"Only a week?" Sean's frantic brain spurted out. On the outside, he grinned at Darien and said a casual "Ah," trying to
control the shaking in his knees.
As they made their way to Sean's locker, he gazed at Darien's profile through his peripheral vision. "He's sexy from any angle," reflected Sean.
In Sean's mind, Serena and Darien were running through a forest, cherry blossoms floating down on them. The air smelled like morning dew in the spring. In the forest, there existed only the two of them ...
"Sean?" questioned Darien.
"Hn?" he asked.
"We're here."
"Oh. Um…you have something on your face, by your lower lip."
Darien wiped the area with his hand, and then inspected his finger. "Hn. I don't see anything."
"Don't worry. You got it," said Sean. "Yeah! Great save!"
Darien looked at the locker number above them. "Looks like your locker is right across the hall from mine," he said, gesturing behind his shoulder.
"Cool," said Sean.
"What do you have first period?" asked Darien.
Sean looked at his schedule printout he held in his hand. "French," he said, making a face.
Darien laughed. "It's not that hard. Hey, maybe you'll get a cute accent. Then you'll get all the girls."
"Ooh la la," Sean said without thinking, the sarcasm thick in his voice. "I don't NEED any help in THAT department."
"Whatever you say, Don Juan," said Darien. "Every guy needs a little help."
"Not all guys," Sean replied.
"Yeah, and I drive a BMW for the smooth, quiet ride," said Darien sardonically.
Sean smiled tightly, gritting his teeth. He didn't know that about Darien!
After they had arrived in Sean's French class, Darien started to walk
away, then turned around. "Oh, Sean?"
"Yeah?"
"Let me know if you need any help. In your classes, I mean. I run a
study group after school."
Sean
fought to control his excitement. "Right. See you later," he said
as casually as he could.
"Later," Darien repeated.
Sean stared after his back longingly, an unconscious habit. Sighing to himself, he walked over to his
seat.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Darien smiled to himself as he walked over to his own class, attracting stares from curious denizens of the hallways. Sean was a little weird, but in a good way, definitely a good way. He seemed a little clueless, but Darien attributed that to normal freshman behavior.
His handwriting was a bit strange for a guy, though. While his own handwriting consisted of efficient, straight edges, Sean's was a bit sloppy, curvier and more open. Even stranger was the lack of kanji. How on earth did Sean get into Azabu without knowing how to write kanji?
Darien couldn't help but obsess over Sean's handwriting. It was in his mind during all of first period, through second and straight through lunchtime. He puzzled about it until the end of the day, and then he remembered that he would probably see Sean after school. He came to the conclusion that Sean had probably come to Azabu under an athletic or artistic scholarship. Filing away his hypothesis, he arrived at his locker.
"Hey, Darien. Long time no see," said Andrew.
"Hi, Andrew."
"I haven't seen you around lately. I'm worried about you," said Andrew in low tones.
"Me? I'm fine."
"Bullshit. You're not fine, and you know it."
"The psychology classes have gone to your head, Freud," spat out Darien.
"Hey, Darien. Who's this?" asked Sean, poking his head in.
Darien resisted the urge to wipe his forehead in relief. "Oh, hey, Sean. This is Andrew. He works over at the Arcade on Crown Street."
"Hi, Andrew."
"Hi, Sean. Say, haven't I seen you before?"
"Me? Nah. Must have been somebody else."
"Hn," he said, scratching his head. "You look a lot like my cousin," said Andrew.
"I get that a lot," said Sean. "I must have one of those faces, I guess."
"Yeah," said Darien. "Well, are you going to study group?"
"Are you kidding me?" blurted out Sean. "I wouldn't miss it," he recovered.
"Great. Andrew, you coming?"
"Baka. You know that I'm in college."
"Well, you could always learn something new. This is Azabu, after all."
"I know that! I graduated from here last year, remember?" he said, knocking on Darien's forehead for emphasis.
"Hey! You're going to give me a headache!" protested Darien.
"I think I heard a distinctly hollow sound just now," said Sean.
Andrew laughed. "Heh. He's got your warped sense of humor, Dare. Well, see you around. Nice meeting you, Sean."
"Same here," said Sean. It was nice to see Andrew again; he hadn't visited the arcade in ages.
"Do you need help getting to study group?"
"How'd you guess?" asked Sean.
"Just a hunch," said Darien.
"Does this school come with a map?"
"Yeah, but I doubt you'd find it helpful," said Darien. "It's written in kanji."
Sean's eyes widened. The jig was up!
Before Sean could explain, he felt his pocket watch vibrating. He smacked his forehead. "Oh, crap! Not now!"
1.) This is a manga reference. Serena never learned to write kanji, which is a form of Japanese writing.