Takaishi Takeru sat at the table, listening to the gossip. He wasn't really listening... he could hear the words, but they weren't registering in his mind. Instead, his eyes were across the quad. Sitting at the exact same table as Friday, Daisuke was leaning on the bench, talking with that girl. Why would he talk with some girl, but not with him? The laptop was barely hanging out of his bag on the table, but he hadn't even glanced in its direction since he sat down. For the last twenty minutes, he'd been deeply involved with his conversation with the girl.

"Takeru?"

The blonde blinked and turned. "Huh? What?" he asked his friend, who was staring at him expectantly.

"Weren't you listening? We're taking bets."

"Bets on what?"

"On if the new kid is a fag or not. I bet ten he is. You want in on this?"

Takeru stared for a moment. "Uh. Hey, I don't mean to break it to you, but do you realize the only person he's talked to since he showed up at this school is that chick?" he pointed across the quad.

"Who, Yagami Hikari? Dude, she talks with all the fags. She hangs out with that super-smart kid... you know... what's the name of that smart fag?" he asked one of the other guys.

"That guy from Tamachi? Ichijouji Ken?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's the one. He hangs around with Hikari all the time. She digs fags."

"If you use that goddamn word one more time, I'm gonna pop you one," Takeru growled. The table fell silent for a moment.

"What word? Fag?" the boy asked.

The blonde boy slammed his fist into the nose of his friend, shoved to his feet, and walked off, leaving the boy on the ground, cradling his bleeding nose, and his other friends circled around him. He'd be called into the office later, probably suspended. His mom would be angry. But he really didn't care at this moment. He sat down next to Motomiya Daisuke without saying anything.

The dark-skinned boy turned away from Hikari and eyed him. "What the hell went on over there?"

Takeru shrugged. "He kept calling people fags and I can't stand that word."

Daisuke raised one eyebrow, a slow smile crossing his face. An actual smile, not one born of arrogance or a smirk. "Kid, you just earned yourself a hell of a lot of respect from me."

"Please don't call me kid."

"A'ight." Daisuke turned to the girl sitting across from him. "Hikari, this is Ishida Takeru."

"Takaishi Takeru," he corrected him. "And you're Yagami Hikari. You play on the volleyball team, don't you?"

"Yes," she nodded. "And you're the basketball player. I've seen you play; you're very good. I'm on the squad."

"Cheerleading?"

Daisuke made a face. "Ugh, you're a cheerleader?"

She laughed a little nervously, nodding. "It's fun, really. I hate most of the girls on the team, though. Hateful little wenches."

"Wenches? Ha. All right, I'll let the cheerleading thing go I guess." Daisuke glanced at Takeru. "What?"

"Huh? Oh, I was just looking at the stuff on your wrists."

The red-haired boy grinned, stretching his arms out in front of him so all three could admire the bracelets. "They don't get heavy, if that's what you're going to ask. I get asked that a lot. Want to see something?" He slid off a dark blue one and dangled it in front of the blonde. "I got this one from the first girl I ever had tell me I was right about something. Girls never tell me I'm right." He slid it back on his wrist, then snapped off a pale green one and handed it over. "Here."

"What's this?" Takeru studied it carefully.

"It's yours. For sockin' that guy in the face. Nice punch, by the way."

Hikari stuck out her tongue at Daisuke. "Hey, how come he gets one and I don't?"

"Because you didn't knock some guy flat on his ass!" Daisuke slid a yellow bracelet off his wrist anyway and handed it to her. "Value that sucker, I've had that one for a while."

Hikari giggled as she slid it on. "Aw, it looks very good on me! Okay, I have to get to class. Thanks, Dais!" she grabbed her stuff and jumped up. "Bye, Takeru, nice to meet you. Oh! Lunch again tomorrow?"

"Mm-hmm," Daisuke nodded after her as she scampered off. He turned back to Takeru. "What are you looking at now?"

"How come she got to call you Dais, too?"

"Because she's allowed to."

"When will I be allowed to?" Takeru scowled a little.

Flashing a bright grin, Daisuke tapped him gently in the middle of his forehead. "When you're not such a stupid prick."

Takeru sat in class, waiting for the bell to ring. He only had one hour to go, and he still hadn't been called down to the principal for fighting. It was possible he'd get away with it. Just one more hour. "Come on, come on, come on," he whispered under his breath to the clock. Two minutes and one hour. Two minutes. Twooooo minutes. Ah-ha! One minute!

"Takaishi?"

Damn! Takeru sighed and stood up, pulling his backpack on and holding out his hand for the pass down to the principal. On his way down to the office, the bell rang and students flooded out of classrooms. Maybe if he just went to his next class and said he'd never gotten the pass... no, his teacher would recall giving it to him. And besides, he'd probably get in more trouble for skipping out on the principal. So instead of ditching, he shuffled down the stairs and into the office.

As he sat there in the principals office, in a hard wooden chair that was making his ass very sore, he tried to listen, but instead was focusing on the bracelet hanging around his wrist. Why was he wearing this thing? More important, why didn't it bother him that he was wearing it? Only girls wore jewelry. He was going to be teased for it, just like Daisuke was except worse, since he was widely known and sort of highly respected. The only thing worse than being on the bottom is being on top and falling to the bottom. Takeru would not let himself fall. He reached over and started to unsnap it, but stopped halfway through and snapped it closed again.

No, he was going to leave it on. It didn't matter what people thought of him. He kind of liked it, to be honest. And besides, if they teased him... screw them. His concern with what everyone else thought of him didn't matter at the moment. If they were going to pass judgment on him for a bracelet snapped around his wrist...

"...allow violence in this school, young man! What possessed you to punch him? I'm told you two are friends!" the principal was saying.
"Were friends," Takeru looked up and corrected him. "I'm not sure why I hit him. He kept calling someone a fag and it irritated me."

"Why?"

"Because this person is..." He paused. Not a friend. Acquaintance? What was he, anyway? He was just some guy that knew his older brother. "My mom always told me 'fag' was an ugly word. I've been raised to hate it."

"I don't think your mother had violence in mind when she taught you it was an ugly word," the principal raised an eyebrow. He tapped his fingers on the desk slowly. "In fact, what if we give her a call right now to see what she thinks of this whole thing?"

Takeru sighed inwardly. "She doesn't like being bothered when she's working." In reality, he knew for a fact his mother would be outraged by the fact that Takeru had been fighting, and even madder when the principal explained how the word 'fag' was apparently ugly. His mother had never even mentioned the word to him, let alone teach him it was ugly.

"Well, I suppose I shouldn't disturb her at work," he smirked at the blonde. Son of a bitch, Takeru thought. I bet he threatens all kids with that to make 'em sweat. "I'll have to assign you detention time for this, Takaishi. I could suspend you, but since this is your first offense," smirk smirk, "I'll let it go. Saturday school. This weekend. If you aren't there, I will suspend you."

Takeru sagged into his seat, rolling his eyes a bit. Not only was the principal a jackass and a failure at being intimidating – really, he just came off to be annoying – but now the rest of the class was staring at him and whispering a bit. News traveled fast in Odaiba Central, and apparently they'd already heard about his violent episode.

In the seat away from him, Daisuke had headphones in his ears. He'd had them in first hour, too, and didn't take them off to even acknowledge the blonde. This time, though, Daisuke was writing something in his notebook and inconspicuously tilted it towards him. "How much?" it said simply.

Takeru pulled out some paper and scribbled a response, sliding it to the edge of his desk so the other could read. "Saturday school."

Daisuke nodded once in response and started writing again. Takeru sighed, stretching a bit and starting to take notes. Only one minute had passed before something hit him on the head and bounced onto his desk. He opened the note quietly, settling it next to his notebook and reading it in-between glances at the blackboard.

"I meant to ask you why your brothers name is Ishida and yours is not."

It was certainly an odd question considering they were risking detention time passing notes, but Takeru scribbled a response anyway, then tossed it back to Daisuke, who caught it in his neatly in his right hand and swept it under the desk to read. "Takaishi is my mothers name and I live with her. Ishida is my fathers name and Yamato lives with him. My mom went back to her maiden name after the divorce and I got it, too."

The note sailed back. "Sorry," it read. Takeru glanced at Daisuke and shrugged. The other studied him for a minute, eyes narrowing in scrutiny, but he shook his head and went back to taking notes from the front of the room. Takeru turned back to his own notebook. Another few minutes passed before a note thunked him heavily on the head again and fell to the floor. He picked it up as discreetly as he could, then opened it, eyes focused on the front of the room. ­I'm going to get caught... I'm going to get caught... Amazingly, he didn't get caught as he opened it and settled in to read it.

"Are you going to Yamato's today? I have a lot of respect for you after lunch. I would have socked him too. Everything goes better with bacon." Takeru blinked. Bacon? "You don't have to wear that if you don't want to, I won't take offense or anything. Do you know Yagami Hikari's last hour class? She wanted me to walk her home but I forgot to ask her what her last class was."

Takeru took a moment to write out his response, trying to avoid getting caught again. "I go to Yamato's on Fridays. Thanks. My hand hurt a bit after I hit him. Bacon? I don't care about wearing it. I don't know Hikari much so I don't know her last class. Lockers are alphabetical thought so she shouldn't be very far from my locker. Do you like her?"

"I like her, why would I talk to her if I didn't? Yes bacon. Nice crisp dark red bacon."

"What the hell does bacon have to do with anything?"

"Everything!"

The bell rang then and Takeru tucked the note into his notebook, standing up and shoving things into his backpack. He looked back up to see Daisuke waiting for him. "What?" he asked.

"Come on," the other boy hopped up and down a few times anxiously. "You're so damn slow. I promised her!"

"Oh," the blonde blinked, swinging his backpack over his shoulder and heading out the door, Daisuke striding alongside. He stared down at his feet, then at Daisuke's. His step was unsteady and wavering, but Daisuke's steps were strong and confident. It was so weird. Daisuke had to know everyone in the school was snickering about him behind his back, and yet he kept marching on without falter. A hand passed in front of his gaze and swept his eyes back up.

Daisuke raised one eyebrow at him. "Y'okay in there? I'm up here. What're you thinking about?"

"Uh? Oh. Just wondering."

"About?"

"Where do you get off with it?" the question came out a little rougher than he intended it to. "I mean... you're so different. And yet you don't even give a damn. How?"

Daisuke smirked a bit, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "It's like this, Takeru. Who knows more about myself than, well... myself?"

"No one, I guess," Takeru blinked.

"Exactly. So why should it matter what someone who doesn't know me as well as I do thinks?"

"I don't get it."

"All right, let me break it down a little bit more. These people don't know shit. I know what a badass mother fucker I am, so why should I give a damn what they think? They can take their opinions and go to hell for all I care."

"Congratulations, Daisuke, you just used all the curse words in less than twenty seconds."

"Did I? Oh, no, I didn't use bitch."

"There, you just said it."

"But I want to use it in context of the statement!"

"Hi, Daisuke!" Hikari's voice interrupted the conversation. Takeru felt a pang of resentment. They were getting along, and then she had to ruin it.

Daisuke smiled at her, then glanced at Takeru. "Thanks for leading the way, kid."

"Don't call me kid, dammit. If you call me kid, I'm going to start calling you Dais," the blonde threatened.

"Do you want to walk home with us?"

"Huh?" Takeru blinked.
"Walk home with us?" The boy waved a hand in the air. "You do live near me. I don't see why you should go alone when I'm heading that way anyway... C'mon." Making a face as the other hesitated, Daisuke turned and started out the door. Hikari followed him, and after a split second of thinking, Takeru hurried to catch up.

"Sorry it took us so long," Daisuke was telling Hikari. "I forgot to ask you what you had last hour."

"Oh! I was kind of wondering. I didn't wait long, don't worry. My last hour is chemistry. It's very boring."

"Chemistry? Third floor? Who's your teacher?"

"Harroway."

"Ah! Mine too! I have her third hour."

Hikari glanced back at Takeru who was trailing one step behind. "Who's your chem teacher, Takeru?"
"Huh? Oh. Brinesfelder. He's nice enough. It's hard to make something like chemistry seem exciting, though. I guess he tries his hardest. He's pretty funny."

"Very cool," Hikari grinned. "What other classes do you take?"

"Hmm? Me? Umm, let's see. First hour I have Trig... second hour is chem, then I have study hall and then I go to band..."

"Band?" Daisuke snorted.

"What's wrong with band?"

"Takeru. Don't you know that 97 of the kids who take band are loser geeks?"

"No. Where do you get your statistics? And hey, Yamato is in a band, does that make him a loser geek?" Takeru smirked.

Daisuke smirked back. "The difference is, Yamato is in a rock band and you're in a lame ass school band. Fourth hour is band, then you go to lunch. Seventh hour you're in English with me, so what do you do during your other two hours, hmm?"

"History and creative writing."

"Creative writing, huh? You into writing and shit?" Daisuke asked, digging his hands further into his pockets.

Takeru was now walking in between the two. "Yeah, I'm into writing and 'shit.'"

"That's cool."

"What classes do you take, Mr. Suave?" Takeru snarled.

"Let's see. Trig. Second hour is psych, third hour is chem, fourth hour I have soc, fifth I have study hall, sixth is drawing, and seventh is English."

"You take drawing?" the blonde tried to sound snide, but failed at it miserably.

"Yep."

"Any good?"

"Not really."

"How long have you been drawing?" Hikari asked.

"As long as I can remember. I kind of wanted to be an artist when I grew up as a kid, but you know... I'm not into that starving artist idea anymore," Daisuke shrugged.

Hikari tilted her head to the side, brown hair falling from behind her ear. "You don't have to be a starving artist. You can live pretty comfy as an artist."

Daisuke shrugged. "Eh." He was about to continue when there was a noise from across the street. Someone screamed, and then a loud crack exploded in the air. Something smashed into the concrete building next to the three, spraying them with a burst of concrete dust. "Fuck!" Daisuke snarled, shoving Hikari into Takeru's arms, ripping open a pocket on his jeans to pull out a .22.

"Holy shit!" Takeru yelped. The thing that had exploded into the building wall was a bullet. They were getting shot at!

"Let's get the hell out of here," Daisuke shoved the two again, hopping a few steps backwards and then pushing them into a run. Another shot exploded and the red-haired boy ducked, dust showering down on him. "Run faster," he commanded.

He didn't have to say it twice for the three to sprint on.