Chapter One: Alternative

Chiriko sighed softly as he watched his six roommates fuss over the dinner table. They could never just eat in peace. One might think Suzaku had dictated that his seishi could not, under any circumstances, have a moment of peace. Whether the group was in the middle of war, or the middle of dinner, there had to be something to dispute.

"Have you stopped to think, for even one second, that your 'hobby' is not welcome in this household, Tasuki? I need my beauty sleep and I just cannot get it when I hear moaning from your bedroom all night!"

"Will you calm down, Nuriko? You would think a fellow man would understand, no matter how much he still tried to act like a woman."

"No!"

"You should all calm down!" Hotohori yelled with his usual commanding tone. "This is a pointless argument! Tasuki, please try to keep the number of women you bring into the house at a minimum, and Nuriko, whom Tasuki brings home is his own affair. Now be quiet and eat."

But Nuriko would have none of it.

"Tasuki's a bad person to have in this house! We have a very impressionable teenager living here and we have to set the standards high. It's a wonder Chiriko hasn't become a womanizer!"

Hey… he resented that. Chiriko glared, discretely of course, at the seishi with the purple hair.

"I am not about to take that from a guy who tried to convince everyone he met he was actually female. As if YOU were a good influence Nuriko! I think it's amazing that he hasn't turned gay!"

The intensity of Chiriko's glare increased. He was officially insulted now. He would act however he wanted to!

"Then can I at least have a new room where I don't have to hear everything going on in his bedroom?" Nuriko pleaded his case to Hotohori.

Hotohori just glared at him. "Why don't you and Chichiri switch rooms? I seem to recall you taking the room from him when he obviously wanted it in the first place.

"Oi!" Chichiri looked up from his plate. "Don't start dragging me into this."

"Please Chichiri?" Nuriko pleaded.

Thoroughly disgusted, Chiriko stood up and placed his dirty dishes in the sink. No one noticed him as he walked out of the room, but then again, no one ever did.

*******

Once Chiriko was back in his room, he glanced around with a mild annoyance that he had never felt before. The annoyance was aimed at his roommates.

They expected everything to stay the same here, in Miaka's world, as it had been in Konan, in the Universe of the Four Gods. Yet, how could things be the same between them if everything around them had changed? How could they be the same people? It was highly improbable that they would stay exactly how they had been before.

His eyes narrowed as he recalled how Nuriko and Tasuki had used him as an example in one of their numerous arguments at dinner. Every single one of them, Nuriko, Tasuki, Hotohori, Tamahome, Mitsukake, and Chichiri, all expected him to be the nice, smart kid. It didn't matter to them that they had been living here for five years. It didn't matter that he was starting to see the world his own way.

No, it didn't matter. But it would. Very soon they would see precisely who he really was. Chiriko was ready to make a change, a very drastic change. Something he knew he should have done a long time ago.

He walked over to his closet and threw open the doors. Inside, toward the back, was more black clothing than anyone had ever known he owned. He removed everything that wasn't black and threw it in the garbage. He then turned to the bag that had been sitting in the corner of his closet for the past three months.

His friend Rei, from school, had given him everything in that bag. It contained chokers, bracelets, and make-up. Lots and lots of make-up. He dumped the bag out onto his desk, next to his homework.

Returning to his closet, he doffed what he was wearing, throwing it with the other clothing that was being discarded. He rifled through his remaining garments and chose a simple black shirt that showed his pale stomach and a pair of low-riding black jeans that balanced on his hips. Pulling on a pair of black boots, he studied himself in the mirror.

"Not bad, my boy." He murmured to his reflection. "Not bad at all."

Chiriko moved back to the desk, sitting in the chair and gazing at all the make-up. No use backing out now. He grabbed some black eyeliner and began to carefully apply a thick line to both of his eyes. He also added some black lipstick, and pale powder. He put on a choker with a ring for a leash attached to it, and a bracelet with spikes. Reaching up behind his head, he pulled his hair out of its usually ponytail, allowing the strands to flow freely around his face. His hair actually came down to his shoulders. When he looked back into the mirror, he was a completely different person.

He loved that. He loved himself. And he didn't want to stay inside.

He shoved back the chair and grabbed his wallet. He needed some music, and none of the stuff he had at the moment would do. He glanced at his homework and decided that the transformation had to be a complete one.

Then Chiriko threw his homework in the trash.

The door slammed as he left the room.

*******

Hotohori looked up from his magazine, which was coincidentally turned to an article about beauty, to see a very angry, very gothic Chiriko heading toward the front door.

"Where do you think you are going? And what are you wearing?"

Chiriko gave him a long-suffering glare as the other five guys turned to look from various positions in the room. Everyone's eyes widened at Chiriko's appearance.

He didn't miss a beat. "I'm going out. And that's really none of your business."

The front door did an impression of the door to Chiriko's room, and everyone was left staring at the empty space where the youngest of the Seven had stood.

*******

Chiriko stood staring down at the CD in his hand, trying not to turn and glare at the woman who had been staring at his back for the last five minutes. He had known that this look would get a reaction, but he hadn't been quite as prepared as he should have been. Oh well, all was good, because this was exactly what he wanted.

His painted lips curved upward into a wicked smile as he carried the CD over to the cashier. The boy stared at him in either awe or envy, before quickly averting his eyes.

"Just ring it up." Chiriko growled, still irritated at the idiocy he had left behind at the house.

The kid jumped much to Chiriko's surprise. He wasn't used to the effects his new look would cause. It demanded respect, or rather instant avoidance. It was almost as if they didn't quite want to make him angry.

The boy finished and Chiriko grabbed the bag. He left the store in a cloud of self-confidence. He started walking without really paying attention to where he was going. He was vaguely aware of the strange stares he was on the receiving end of, but he had other things on his mind. Looking up, he was mildly surprised to see that he was back in front of his house.

The seven seishi lived in a two-story house. It was a pretty normal house, nothing special about it to make it recognizable from the other houses that stood around. So conforming. It made him want to be physically sick that his roommates even used their living quarters to fit in with their surroundings.

Sighing heavily, he threw open the door and stalked to his room. The protests being issued from the other six men in the house were ignored easily. Once in his room, he locked the door and turned to his CD player. He started playing his new CD, cranking the volume up loud enough to drown out everything coming from outside.

Rolling over, the boy closed his eyes and went to sleep, oblivious of the pounding on his door and the shouts telling him to turn the music down.