AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ooh, I just read Volume 4, and that had some interesting plot twists. I had to replace one of the characters with Shiori, and it works well because it adds to my story pretty well; if you're not a Shiori fan, don't worry.I'm not one either ;). I'm keeping this as AU until I read more of the volumes. Thanks for the review, it's Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

Her face was lost in space, mind scattered across planets representing memories and faces and inside jokes once forgotten. Why did she, Desdemona, fearless girl with no past, nothing to be ashamed of, suddenly feel like she was in "2001: A Space Odyssey"?

"Who are you?" Desdemona asked of the girl sitting across the table from the girl who knew so much by saying so little.

She spoke with an unknown confidence, "Kira. Kira Aso--"

"How do you even know about Sei?!" demanded Desdemona. She was beginning to panic, her white fingers clutching the side of the table.

Kira began to stutter, nervous, lost, "He's my boyfriend's twin brother." Glancing up, she noticed Desdemona grow quiet, losing the vehement anger that she'd seen so clearly before. She sat down, crossed her arms and legs, and asked a passing waiter for a coffee. Extra caffeine is what she needed.

Desdemona looked out the window, but spoke to Kira. "You know Rei?"

"I love Rei," Kira answered. "I needed to find you, to find out about Sei. Kyoko said you were the only other person who was close to Sei. That you were his girlfriend." Kira stopped, and looked up to see Desdemona's face. She was still staring out the window, but her eyes were beginning to weaken and couldn't focus on one thing. Sei. Sei. She'd spent years trying to forget him, failing every time. Pills didn't help, psychologists didn't help. Not even music could help.

"Miss Eastwood?" How polite of her to address her so formally.

"I'm sorry about how I yelled," Desdemona finally spoke, leaning her elbows against the table, her blistered guitar fingers raking her uncombed hair. Desdemona bit her lip and then stared at the floor tile, "It's just no one's spoken that name in years. I almost forgot how it sounded." Lie. Her mind spoke that name every day, constantly reminding her.

Kira nodded, but Desdemona couldn't be sure if she was convinced or not. "If you don't mind.I.I want to know about Sei. I need to understand what Rei is going through, he's always so distant sometimes. Sometimes," Kira broke off, pausing, "sometimes I think he just thinks of me as some little art geek girl."

Desdemona shrugged, "Rei was sort of a Playboy when I met him." Kira's eyes flashed with anger. "Not that I had anything with him. Rei was too much like me in a way. No. I had to break the good son." Her voice, so bitter, so full of self hatred.

Desdemona looked Kira up and down before speaking again, "You must really love Rei, and he has to love you back if he told you about Sei, which I'm assuming he did since you'd be the only person besides Kyoko and Akitaka who'd know." Kira's cheeks flushed with carnation embarrassment. Desdemona chuckled a bit, but it sounded forced and wooden.

"You asked about Sei, so I figure I should tell you. Here's the deal with Sei and I."

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"Rei, get up."

"Five more minutes, Sei." Rei covered his face with the sheets, hiding from his brother's voice. Sei gave up, hurrying down the stairs. School was about to start. His tombstone face displayed his opinion towards school. Since he was little he'd been pushed around, bullied. He'd come home with broken dreams and violet bruises, nose sniffling, trying to be strong.

"I'm up," announced Rei, trudging into the kitchen. "Did we have any homework?"

Sei nodded, "It's ok, I'll do it for you."

"Thanks," Rei said, taking a bite into an apple as he headed into the bathroom. Sei fished into Rei's backpack. It was the least he could do for his twin brother. Every time Sei came home crying, Rei would always avenge him.

Always.

* * *

School can very easily be compared to a play with really bad acting. Desdemona Eastwood hated showing up at school; she disliked most of those who attended her high school. But Shiri Kawasaki, who was one of the very that attended her school that she could tolerate, insisted she go, to hear the latest drama and possibly go to college, which Desdemona had little desire to go to. She figured it would most likely consist of egotistical morons who thought they were smart, unlike most of the high school students who weren't egotistical enough to assume they were geniuses.

Desdemona climbed into the shotgun seat, and Shiori sped off, "Like my new car! Daddy bought it for me! I'm SO glad I can drive now."

Desdemona shrugged. She mostly rode her beat-up bicycle with a basket to work and school when Shiori couldn't pick her up in one of her many expensive cars. Cars didn't meant that much to her. She placed on her trademark glasses and sighed. Shiori glanced over and pouted.

"At least comb your hair and show some respect," Shiori muttered, fishing through her purse to find one of her many combs. Desdemona tossed her mane, refusing, "You had to drag me out of my bathtub, which I was comfortably sitting in and writing songs, to go to school?"

"Psh, it's not like the thing even works, you have to shower on the roof anyway," Shiori snorted. "Besides, your dad would've made you go anyway. Now, let's see, lipstick, nail polish, ah, comb." Clutched in her fingers was Shiori's personal Holy Grail. Desdemona shoved the hand away and stared past the window, arms crossed.

"Jesus, Desi, don't you want to look beautiful?!" Shiori squawked.

Desdemona looked over her shoulder and smiled, "Why would I ever want that?" Shiori muttered as the two continued to drive to school. Desdemona stared briefly into the sky and began to hum a little.

"And didn't you wear those same jeans yesterday?" asked Shiori. Desdemona glanced down at her jeans. They really were trashed; multiple patches on her knees, safety pins barely holding strands of fabric together. Her T- shirt was faded and a tribute made of fabric to "The Clash Combat Rock".

She shrugged, "Maybe." Shiori muttered as the two finally made their way to their pilgrimage. Shiori's car screeched across and she nearly parked on a curb. Parking the car, Shiori pulled her skirt down a little and brushed the strands of obnoxiously perfect silky hair out of her face, and she said, "Besides, I'm leaving pretty soon. Can't you at least pretend to care?"

"I do," Desdemona replied, sitting down on a bench with her backpack, which was covered with scrawled, white out lyrics. And she did care. Who else would she have to boss her around and throw rocks at her bathroom window to get her to go to school? Nobody else seemed to care if she showed up or not.

"Whatever," Shiori said with a tinge of anger. "Hey look, it's Rei! Let's go talk to him!" Desdemona glanced over her shoulder and there he was. Rei Kashino. Schoolyard Playboy.

"Why would we want to talk to him?" Desdemona asked.

"Because he's Rei Kashino!" giggled Shiori, as if his name gave enough explanation. "Besides, he's a cool guy! I hang out with him all the time, he's like my best friend, you should come and hang out with us sometime!"

Desdemona shrugged and went back to stapling her backpack straps, muttering, I'd rather not." but Shiori grabbed Desdemona's hand and skipped over to Rei, who had the usual crowd of admirers.

"Hey Rei!" shouted Shiori, waving. She crept over to Rei and cuddled up, holding his arm sacredly.

"Hey, Shiori and.friend," Rei said, drawing a blank on Desdemona's name. Clutching his arm like a lifesaver was Chiaki Edo. Her legs resembled chicken bones, her hair appeared to have been dipped into three day old dog urine and she appeared to be wearing something most go-go dancers would not wear.

"Hey Shiori, I heard you your dad bought you a car!" Chiaki said, stroking Rei's arm. "That's SO cool!" The sincerity in Chiaki's voice was lacking, and to call her comment "sugary fake" was generous at best. Desdemona did not understand why Shiori and Chiaki were such good friends, nor was she in the slight least interested.

"A car?" asked Rei.

Shiori nodded, "Yeah, it's not that big of a deal. Oh, damn, I just forgot, I need to meet with the gym teacher, about cheerleading. I have to talk about who I'm going to nominate as cheer captain in my place." Chiaki's eyes lit up with a hungry greed worthy of most prostitutes upon seeing a rich man, and she immediately began to trail Shiori. Tossing a wink over her shoulder, Shiori said, "I'll catch you later, Rei. Talk to Desi here for the mean time!"

I really do hate her, Desdemona thought bitterly.

"That's pretty cool about Shiori," Rei sighed.

"Yeah," replied Desdemona. To be honest, Rei was quite attractive, tall, slender, seemed easy to talk to the few times Shiori had dragged Desdemona over to talk. But there was just something about Rei that made Desdemona uneasy.

"You like the Clash?"

Desdemona nodded, looking around for support, watching the eyes of girls who she'd never spoken to before, but who now hated her, then spoke, "Yeah. Big British punk rock group."

Rei nodded, "I never did catch your name, what was it?"

Desdemona raked her hand through her hair, "It's--"

"Ha, you little bastard, whatcha drawing?!" The loud calls echoed across the courtyard. Rei's face went white.

"Sei.?" Rei's hands clenched in fists of rage as Desdemona turned around. Across the courtyard, a sketchbook lay on the ground, and Sei lay on the ground beside it, with Senzo Otsuka standing above him. Senzo's hair was spiked and bleached, and he had multiple earrings and an eyebrow ring. He pretended to be more drugged and tougher then he really was. On one of Shiori's ne'er-go-well-blind-dates, she'd set Desdemona up with Senzo, and he still continued to call and harass her.

Rei jumped over the bench, and Desdemona followed him, picking up her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. Rei grabbed Senzo and punched him repeatedly in the stomach. Doubling over, Senzo sprawled to the ground, and he attempted to trip Rei, but he wasn't finished. Rei punched him several more times.

"Fucker," Senzo swore, wiping blood that spilled from everywhere.

"Don't beat my brother up," Rei spat. He continued to pummel Senzo. One of the teachers hurried over and dragged Senzo and Rei off, with Senzo yelling, "I still love you, Desi!" Desdemona glared and shook her head. Why was she trapped in a place of the mundane? She glanced down to see Sei, and he was hurriedly gathering loose leaf sketches. One of them seemed especially familiar, and she knelt down to pick it up.

"I'm sorry about what happened--" she muttered, but Sei jammed them into his backpack and ran off before Desdemona could say anything more. Desdemona sighed, hung her head in her hands and stood up to face the rest of the day.

* * *

"Why can't you keep yourself out of trouble," Rei muttered as he jammed the keys into the apartment door he and Sei lived in. Sei shrugged, and glanced off into the distance. He hated embarrassing Rei so much. He saw how embarrassed he was when he wasn't able to pick up that pretty girl and had to fight off Senzo.

"I'm sorry," Sei said quietly, staring at his shoelaces (they were fading to gray).

Rei sighed, "And I was drawing to get Shiori's friend's number, I never did learn her name."

"Desdemona," Sei said quickly. A smile crept onto his lips. He'd seen Desdemona around, in the halls. He only could catch fleeting glimpses of her every now and then; she was different then the other girls. She had a certain mystery, anger hidden beneath sarcasm and apathy. The way she ran her fingers through her hair, the strumming of her sticker cover guitar, the rhythms she spoke and moved in.

"Sei? Sei?"

"What?" Sei asked.

"I was just saying how I was thinking of inviting her to one of my races," Rei said, chucking his backpack to the floor, opening a can of soda and plopping down in a chair that was falling apart. Rei glanced up at his brother, "What's gotten into you, you look like you just lost your best friend."

"Nothing," Sei mumbled. Grabbing his sketchbook, Sei pulled on his coat, "I'll be back soon."

Rei shrugged, "OK, if I'm not home then I'm at the track."

"Sure," muttered Sei. He slammed the door a little harder then he normally would. Was it his fault that Rei shared the same genetics as him, yet had every girl throw her underwear and room keys and candy cane hearts at him? He couldn't blame them though; Rei was strong and had presence. And Sei had to be honest with himself, he was weak. It wasn't his fault, but he just couldn't stand up for himself. No matter what. Sei couldn't understand why people just had to bother him. He wanted to be left alone to draw, that was all.

"Mommy, Mommy, look!" A young child, perhaps 4 or 5, tossed his ball into the air. His mother watched, jaw dropped, eyes lit up with glee and excitement. The ball flew into the iar, soaring, on top of the world, before beginning to tumble down. It bounced twice, and rolled out into the deadly granite rivers of the street. The ball continued to roll until it landed directly at Sei's feet, silently begging him to pick it up.

"Mommy!" the boy called. The mother stood up, her soft features and delicate voice gave her the impression of being a very gentle and caring young woman, and said, "Excuse me, young man, but could you please hand me our ball?"

Sei blinked and stared. He just stopped, his mind wandering past the colors and sounds and textures that attempted to keep him down. He noticed the mother walk over and pick up the ball. He heard her whisper, "What a strange young man."

His feet continued to press on, until he stopped to take a rest from his personal odyssey at a wooden bench painted the color of grass. The bench was a great place to sit and study humans as they walked past, the very people who tortured him and who he was absolutely fascinated with at the same time.

A low humming filled the air. It was angst-ridden, melancholy, heavy and low so only one specifically looking for it could hear it. And Sei was looking for it, looking for the source of "it". He hadn't heard anything quite like it, something so low and depressing, yet full of rage and anger, an Aztec temple buried for years.

He glanced up to the top of an apartment building he had been sitting nearby. The song was coming from the roof. Standing up, he saw where it was coming from. A girl. And she was.bathing? On top of a roof? Sei hadn't heard anything that unusual, but it sounded like a great sketch. Taking out a piece of charcoal and his sketchbook, Sei came to the conclusion that he couldn't sketch the exact picture he wanted from this angle.

So Sei did the bravest thing he'd done up to this point; he walked right into the apartment and climbed up the stairs to Heaven's door. Tenants gazed past the blur of a boy; the knees of some of the girls and women began to buckle, for to them Sei looked exactly like Rei, who in their eyes rivaled God. He didn't notice, nor did he care. No one seemed to care about his presence, despite that he was dashing up flights of stairs and no one had seen him around here before.

The door to the roof was locked. This did not deter Sei for a moment, for Rei had taught him how to pick locks (it saved Rei many a detention spent in a dull colored room). The door flew open, perhaps the only one in Sei's life who accepted his presence. Sei strolled out very quietly. It was a spectacular view of the city, Sei decided, and he would have to come up here again and sketch the city.

He peeked around and began to take a quick sketch. But then he realized who he was sketching upon closer look.

Desdemona!

Sei panicked. He dropped his sketchbook and it made the loud sound of papers being bent and folded. Desdemona abruptly turned around, and for a brief moment their eyes met. And it was a scene out of some cheaply produced soap opera, Desdemona, bathing on the roof and completely aware, strumming her acoustic guitar, and Sei, an awkward, gawky boy who never spoke and spent his days drawing a world much more beautiful then the one he lived in. Sei saw something revealed in Desdemona's eyes, brief seconds of allure and mystery that had been the subject of Sei's adolescent sketches and perhaps lust.

Sei did what came to mind; he ran.

"Wait!" shouted Desdemona. But it was too late. And it wouldn't be the last time either.