Kamereon

by Sailor Ronin Usa-chan

In a moment of desperation, Usagi cuts her hair, runs away from the senshi, and makes a rash wish that lands her in a heap of trouble. Sound cliche? It iswith a twist.

10. Chapter Nine

Usa-chan's Note: So here it is... Kamereon's next chapter by Tenshi no Nozomi. I also have an announcement, I'm planning something special for my site (http:www.smcrossover.us) for April, so be sure to check it out or you might miss out on some surprises. Also, there will be MORE Kamereon soon. I'm now in charge for the next couple of chapters and am plenty inspired due to the efforts of Nozomi-mouto. Now, sit back and enjoy... and laugh away.

Author's Note: Merry late X-mas and Happy late New Year, everyone. And I'm really sorry this took so long... And I didn't even get to write everything
I'd planned on. O.o;

Kamereon : Chapter 8(b)

Oh, the joys of detention. Usagi frowned, almost pouted, as she clapped the erasers together with her arms stretched out the window. She vaguely wondered what the odds would be of the window closing on her wrists... and chopping them off... She shuddered; why did she think of these kinds of things? It was disgusting, and violent, and random.

Maybe it was because her life had become so unbalanced as of late. Ami had once told her that dreams were just made up of fragments of the experiences you went through in everyday life... particularly the ones that made you uncomfortable. Of course, Ami had never encountered Schuldich before, who could alter and invade dreams. But perhaps these strange daydreams were 'mini-farts' due to frustration.

Usagi scowled down at the box filled with erasers. Apparently the witch had decided that doing her own erasers wasn't bad enough of a punishment for the misfortunate 'Yue-kun.' So she'd gathered together erasers from several teachers, put them together in a card board box, and left them for her to do.

Usagi grumbled; she would be here until the sun set! And then how would she get home? She'd be abandoned in the last place she wanted to be after the last school bell rang. Alone... in a school...

Usagi sighed and grabbed another pair of chalk erasers. She prepared herself for the billowing cloud of dust that would envelope her, but was shocked when her grip failed; apparently she had not been holding the eraser tightly enough. It fell onto the window sill, bounced a bit, and then fell outside. Onto the roof.

"Crap," she hissed, dropping the other one onto the floor. Usagi carefully leaned her head out the window, scanning for it. Lo and behold, she saw it- it wasn't too far away. She found, however, that it was just barely out of her reach when she stretched for it. She raised the window up, just a little higher–as high as it would go–to give herself some more room.

Usagi knelt precariously on the sill and gulped. If she slipped and fell, she could be seriously injured. It looked like an awful long way down, and there would be nothing but the grey pavement to break her fall. She realized that if she did fall, then her true identity- or rather her true gender- would be discovered. Was that stupid eraser worth nearly blowing her cover and getting herself killed?

Hesitantly, Usagi crouched down as low as she could and spread her body out flat. It hurt to do so, but she just grunted and dealt with the discomfort. She slid on her belly as close as she could, stretching out her left arm to its furthest length. She realized once she had the upper half of her thighs hanging out the window with the rest of her that this was a very bad, very stupid idea that she had not thought out properly... but it was too late to turn back then.

Usagi finally managed to close her fist around the rectangle and grinned with triumph. She realized, suddenly, that she had celebrated too soon- she was slipping. Usagi opened her mouth to scream as her knees passed the window sill, when something caught her by her ankles and began to haul her back inside. They weren't doing it with a lot of care, though, and her legs became scraped and her head banged against the window pane so hard that she saw stars.

Hauled back in to the safety of the classroom, Usagi pressed her hands against the back of her head desperately. She knew that this wasn't going to make the pain any better, but it was an instinctive reaction, like sticking a cut finger into her mouth. "You stupid, stupid fool," a seething voice hissed at her.

Usagi blinked back tears of pain to get a good look at her rescuer. To her surprise, it was none other than Crawford. Cold, uncaring, clinical Crawford. Usagi realized that she must have judged him wrong; she had thought that he was the kind of man capable of caring only for himself. It hurt to realize that she'd judged the older man wrongly and unfairly.

"Well," he asked, shaking her a bit, "explain yourself!" He looked really angry. Usagi couldn't think of why, though. The first idea that popped into her head was that he'd rescued her so that he wouldn't have to deal with the bad publicity. She instantly shoved that thought back to where it came from; how could she be so ungrateful? Her second thought was more rational– perhaps he'd done it for Nagi-kun's sake, since they were friends. Her third thought was so unbelievable that she refused to even recognize it.

"I dunno," she replied, holding her hands up to her throbbing head. Oh, she needed painkillers... so badly. Now she had a bump in both the front of her head and the back. A matching set. A pair. Twins. "I wasn't thinking," she responded truthfully. And if that wasn't the reasoning behind all of the decisions she made in her life, then she must have been dreaming the whole time. She rarely thought things through hard enough; that would explain why she got herself into so much trouble.

Crawford sighed and shoved his glasses up higher onto his nose. Usagi noticed that the act was futile; his glasses instantly began to slip back down. "You should go home," he advised her.

"But I have to finish this," she groaned. 'Idiot!' She scolded herself. 'You should have taken him up on his offer. You feel like you just got side blinded by some kid with a steel baseball bat. You should go home... take some painkillers... and go to bed. Maybe even take a nice, long, hot, steaming bath.'

"No," he insisted. "You're going home--now," he commanded, helping her to her feet. He walked her down the hallway and got on his cell phone. He was calling someone to pick her up, she realized. She didn't care if it was a taxi cab or Aya-san, or even if it happened to be Schuldich, whom she thought at most times to be as close to pure evil as she'd ever met, just so long as she got home...

A banana yellow taxi cab pulled up what could have been minutes or hours later; Usagi was feeling rather disoriented. What if she had a concussion? Maybe she should go see a doctor. Or nurse Aya. That made her giggle; Nurse Aya looked like he knew more about the art of killing people than healing them with that stony glare.

Crawford helped her get into the car, acting like the perfect gentleman, or a concerned parent. He was neither, though, and almost wished that he had the carelessness to act so. But he wasn't Schuldich, and he wouldn't do anything that would jeopardize his "mission." For now, he had to be careful.

She, however, needed help, in more than one way. Obviously she wasn't very strong in the suite of "common sense." She'd made some very bad decisions, though most of them had been within the last twenty four hours or so. She certainly didn't need help from Schuldich in making and carrying out hair-brained schemes. "Tomorrow, after school, I want you to stay behind."

Usagi winced. "Am I in trouble?"

Crawford gave her a wan smile in return, and although it was a bare expression, it was more emotion than he normally expressed. "No. But you're aware of Schuldich's more... unique abilities, and I've had about enough of his fooling around. Since he seems to be targeting you singularly, I want to give you some lessons to help you."

"Oh," she said, and looked genuinely pleased. She hadn't realized there would be some way to keep Schuldich from tormenting her. "What about Omi-kun," she asked, suddenly remember the way they'd reacted towards one another. She hadn't understood what exactly they meant, but the expressions on Omi-kun's face had rung loud and clear.

"We'll see," he said, evading it. He couldn't tell her that Omi Tsukiyono was one of their enemies, and therefor they couldn't afford to share those kinds of valuable secrets. He'd have to make sure that she didn't leak any secrets, either–it would be a potential hazard if, one night, Schwartz were to find one of its teammates abilities rendered useless because someone couldn't keep a secret.

Crawford watched her go, scowling. It was no wonder that she'd become prey to Schuldich- the girl was just about as clueless as a chicken, and about as careful, too. Maybe that was also why Nagi liked her–there was an air of carefree childishness about her. She tried to pretend that she was a boy, and was failing miserably–which would have to explain why the girls in the school all loved him or thought that 'he' was gay. It was almost amusing, because in a way, Yue would have been the fulfillment of all girls' fantasies: that somewhere, deep down inside, guys were really just girls hidden beneath a rugged and perverted exterior.

Except, of course, Yue-kun was really a girl. Why, though, would a girl pretend to be a boy, run away from home- as Crawford assumed that Yue had, and put up with the things she had seen and experienced? There was the possibility that Usagi-san had had a very strange and perhaps traumatic childhood, but her happiness and surprise towards certain attributes were too genuine.

It was at rare times like this one that Crawford almost wish that he had Schuldich's gift. It almost made him want to form a brief alliance with the perverted, power-abusing "teacher." However, if his visions were correct, then that would not be possible...

Usagi woke up the next morning to the sound of Ken pounding on the door and yelling at them. Something about being late… to something. Usagi laid back down; whatever it was, it could not possibly have precedence over her sleep. Sleep which had been somewhat disturbed as of lately.

One of her dreams had been haunted by Schuldich, and more specifically… those cursed bananas. She didn't even want to go there as it was. She did not know what the implications of that lesson could possibly be, but she knew that she'd have to get counseling in her later years of life over with it. The dream that had been so rudely interrupted a moment before had been equally unpleasant.

Over the course of the time she had spent here, Usagi hadn't bothered to think the circumstances over. Things had happened so quickly after she'd made her wish that she had been unable to do more than just go along with the flow. The dream, however, had forced her to wake up to the consequences of her actions like a slap in the face.

She had watched her family attend her funeral. She had been like a ghost, and no matter how many times she had tried to talk to them, to reassure them, to assuage their fears, her pleas had fallen on closed ears. Usagi rolled over on her side inside the sleeping bag that was her temporary bed. Whether or not her family thought she was dead wasn't the question… It was what was going on with them, the people that she loved.

How had they reacted to her disappearance? Just the day before she'd decided to take her last-minute trip she and her mother had gone out to pick her wedding dress. Her mother had cried, and Usagi had been helpless to comfort her. In the end, an ice cream sundae had been the only method of calming the sobbing woman down.

And what of her friends, the people that she relied upon? They had been there for her till the very end, several times around. They had protected her life on several occasions by offering their own up as sacrifices. How had she repaid their kindness? By leaving them?

Usagi curled up tighter into a fetal position. What about Mamoru? She had up and left him, without so much as leaving him a note. No goodbye, no I'm-not committing-suicide-note, nothing. Mamoru wasn't the kind of person who got angry easily, but surely…

They had to be worried. They wouldn't have just forgotten about her. Had they gone out looking for her? She would be back soon- maybe too soon, as it sometimes seemed to her- but in the meantime… When she did get back, Rei would beat her silly, that was for sure. Hopefully after the wedding.

Before Usagi could go and tear up, though, an unforeseen force yanked the cover off of her. Usagi froze, becoming quite stiff. She was just lucky that Omi had loaned her a pair of pants along with his oversized t-shirt, or else her cover might have been blown. Usagi looked up slowly, staring at the ominous being standing over her.

"Get up," Aya commanded, sounding more than simply angry. Usagi stared up into the older boy's amethyst eyes. He really did have pretty eyes; she'd never seen ones quite like it. However, her marveling over their shade was deterred by the fact that he was glaring at her. It wasn't a simple glare, though- it was like he was trying to make her body burst into flames. She shriveled up under his gaze, and also because of the sudden chill she was exposed to.

"Alright, alright," she told him, trying to get him to back off. He looked supremely pissed, like she'd done something to offend him. Was wanting eight or more hours of sleep such a bad thing? Usagi yawned and stretched her muscles gently; she frowned, a bit puzzled, as she realized that something was off. She couldn't exactly name what it was, though. She was sure she'd figure it out in a little while.

Usagi got up and grabbed her clothes, yawning again loudly and scrunching up her eyes till they filled with excess moisture. She felt exhausted, like she hadn't slept at all... and for several days, at that. Her head hurt, which she understood quite well, but her abdomen hurt, too... which she couldn't explain. Had she slept in some weird, contorted position that had left her muscles sore?

Aya gave her one last glare before leaving the room. "Be down in less than five minutes," he warned her, "or you'll be walking to school." Usagi waited until after he'd left before she stuck her tongue out at his retreating form. Oh, he was enough eye candy to leave her drooling and helpless for days, but man he was a jerk!

Usagi grabbed her uniforms and padded out into the hallway. She looked around and saw no one, which put her at ease. She probably wouldn't have minded Omi or Ken seeing her like this- they wouldn't have thought anything of it- but Aya was already mad at her, and Yohji made her... uncomfortable.

The honey haired man reminded her of Schuldich, just a bit. Only a bit, though, because Schuldich was unnecessarily cruel and sadistic. Yohji seemed... more subdued, and perhaps a bit more light hearted. He teased her a lot, but from the feel of it, it was all good natured. Usagi opened the bathroom door, went inside, and made certain that she locked it before undressing. Too many things could possibly go wrong.

She had to admit that Yohji was good looking. There was something classy about golden hair and green eyes that she hadn't noticed before. Maybe it was because before her stint as 'Yue-kun' she hadn't had so much experience with boys. Now she was surrounded by them all the time, whether she liked it or not!

Usagi reached down and grabbed the floating, flowing hem of her grey night-shirt that seemed almost like a dress on her. She turned it up and wiggled it until her body was bared to the cold morning air. She shivered, and finished it off by taking the ring of her shirt off of her neck.

After all, the only boy she'd ever dated was Mamoru. Before then she'd only had the wistful fantasies of a girl who'd never dated boys... and might never get to. That was because of her father, of course. She'd never have believed it if someone had told her that she'd be up to her eyes in bishounen now.

Usagi pulled off her pants, stepping out of the legs as carefully as she could manage. Yesterday she had nearly slipped. Apparently her klutz attacks had not left her simply because she had left her previous identity behind.

Usagi stopped cold after she took off the boxers she'd been wearing for underwear. There was something wrong with what she was seeing. If she'd been a boy, she'd be screaming about now- blood was not something a boy generally had to deal with. And everything seemed to click together- the pain in her abdomen, her uncharacteristic moodiness this morning, the small blood droplets that stained her underwear...

"Crap," was all she could think to say, disbelief ruling her mind. It was "that" time of the month.

Usagi said nothing went she got downstairs. Her mouth was a small, straight line, perhaps bordering on a grimace. She looked grim and serious, as though she knew the world was about to come to an end and she was getting ready for it. Omi wondered what was wrong with his friend, but only vaguely. He had other things to worry about- like getting to school on time.

Someone had sabotaged their alarm clock. So for whatever reason, Aya-kun had barely woken them up in time to get breakfast. In Yue-kun's case, he'd missed breakfast entirely. Later on he'd wince over how pale Yue-kun looked, and wonder if maybe skipping out on breakfast had been a very bad idea. He'd rather be late than hurt Yue-kun.

They scooted out the door as quickly as possible. They had jumped on Omi's bike and peddled off as fast as Omi could manage to carry them. He was, after all, only human, and a young man at that. Although he was in the prime of his fitness and an assassin with wonderful health to boot, he still wasn't used to having to carry the weight of another person. He tried to tell himself that it would be worth it, because what did not kill him would surely make him stronger, but it was hard convincing himself of it. He liked Yue- was even beginning to think he loved the other boy- but he wasn't sure about carrying him on the back of his bike.

They arrived at the school with just enough time to spare so that the girls began to swarm them. They were like sharks with the scent of blood in the air- it drove them into a frenzy that would kill anyone unfortunate enough to be caught up in the melee.

To Omi's utter surprise, Yue slid off the back of his bike with the barest of goodbyes. Yue-kun somehow managed to weave his way through the crowd of hungry girls. Omi watched, surprise and suspicion growing, as the blonde boy sped past even Nagi-kun without so much as a pause. There was something wrong with his friend, he realized, and he hadn't even bothered to ask.

Omi disentangled himself from his bike and fought his way through the crowd. He made his way over to Nagi, who had managed to form a small air bubble around him that, when the girls attempted to approach him, kept them at bay. Nagi raised a single dark eyebrow as though to ask if Omi knew what had happened. Omi looked after Yue-kun, who simply hurried away.

Nagi had been hesitant to send Yue- well, Usagi, really- to live with Weiss. Sure, it was safer... but how much so? Omi obviously had growing feelings for Yue-kun. Who knew about the other members of Weiss. Sure, he hoped that the age difference and gender barrier- they thought Usagi was a boy, after all- might protect her, but he just wasn't certain anymore.

And Nagi did want to protect her. Seeing her wandering around on the street that night, frightened to death of Farfarello, had reminded him all too much of what he'd been like himself once. He'd just wanted to offer a helping hand to a stranger that seemed to need a helping hand. He hadn't expected for his life to become so gnarled and confused by just one person.

It was startling, because Nagi was antisocial, and he liked it that way. He didn't really want to get involved in anymore messy relationships. After what he had done to his mother... After what he'd experienced on the streets... he had decided, especially after his experience at Rosenkruz, that it was best if he stayed alone.

He didn't like that it confused him and made him vulnerable. Crawford was an excellent example of what he wanted to be. It wasn't necessarily that he cared for the money, but Crawford was cunning yet cold. He was the doctor or the lawyer, who made it his job to know all the facts but managed to remain . . . sterile. He did not get caught up with the case, nor did he show any kind of sympathy for his client.

Usagi moved, half in a panic and the other half of her in pain. She didn't know what she was going to do–no, that was wrong, she knew exactly what she was going to do . . . and that was why it scared her so badly. She had very few options, and she was desperate, and he would know it, he would use it to his advantage.

But what other choice did she have? She had no one that she could confide in. Neither Nagi nor Omi knew her secret yet, and she didn't want to complicate the situation even more than it already was. She couldn't talk to Ken or Yohji; she didn't know them well enough, for starters, and the situation could be made many times worse. Aya-san was the nurse, but he'd already shown obvious distaste towards her. If he knew that she was duping them all, then he'd give her secret out without hesitation. Farfarello–whoever that white-haired man had been–was simply a psycho, and would be the last person she'd trust. In fact, if she never had to see him again, then all the better. Crawford... she'd been surprised by the amount
of compassion he'd shown yesterday–she'd thought from her experience of living with the four of them had shown him to be as cold as an ice cube–but she still didn't feel that she could trust him. So that left only one person...

Usagi ran, panting, up the stairs; perhaps she was out of shape. But, oh, she hated those damned staircases! And why did his classroom have to be on the second floor? Usagi slowed down to catch her breath, but only just barely. She had to keep going, had to get there before the bell rang.

A small voice called to her. "Excuse me... Liang-kun," Usagi stopped and looked at the girl who was calling her. She looked timid and petite. Her small hands were clenched up in front of her face, a gesture of her shy personality. Her large, brown eyes looked at her apprehensively, and Usagi was reminded vaguely of puppy dog eyes.

"Yeah," she asked, antsy to go on. She had to go talk to Schuldich before the bell ran, and here she was wasting her time conversing on the stairway . . .! "Is there something that you need?"

"Well... yes. You see, this year's festival is coming up, and out class hasn't thought of anything. But I'm supposed to be leading this, and, well, I just thought... Maybe you would help us?" She looked so pitiful that Usagi felt a sort of kinship with the girl. She understood what it was like to be overlooked and to need help.

"Sure, I can help. What do you need me for," she offered.

"Well, you see... I was thinking that we'd do an au–" Kumiko was interrupted by Usagi, who had just seen the clock.

"I'm sorry, miss, uhm, uh . . ."

"Kirihara," she offered helpfully.

"Kirihara-san," she repeated storing the name away for future reference. "I'm sorry, Kirihara-san, I don't have time right now, I've got to get somewhere really quick. But I promise I'll help you in any way I possibly can."

"Really," Kumiko asked, looking hopeful and overjoyed. "Oh, thank you so much! I was afraid that you wouldn't agree." Usagi just smiled reassuringly before hurrying on.

Usagi swung around the corner and nearly ran into a surprised young woman in a red suit and skirt. A teacher, obviously. Usagi apologized hurriedly before heading to the room. The lights were on inside, and when Usagi twisted the door knob and pulled, it opened. But there was no one there.

Usagi looked around the room, both surprised and disbelieving. Surely . . . surely he had known. He was always on the lookout for some opportunity to take advantage of her; was it possible that now that one had arisen he would just disappear?

Usagi began to reevaluate her plans, but haphazardly–by now she had entered full-blown panic mode, and there was no real point. She began to despair, and tears threatened to spill. She'd been relying on Schuldich to be the pervert and cruel opportunist that he always was to help her. She knew it would cost her more than she could bear to give, but she'd just have to worry about that when she was feeling like a more stable person.

"Now, now, it's not wise to call people names," a knowing and self assured voice drawled. "Especially when you want them to help you." Schuldich swaggered out of his personal office, looking pleased with himself. Usagi felt her stomach due flip-flops in dread. But was that really the only reason that it reacted that way, a part of her wondered?

That very same part thought that the answer was no.

He sat at his desk and grinned in the way that only Schuldich could. It was a smirk, but more–it deserved to be called The Smirk. His eyes glittered knowingly, pleasurably, as though he got more out of tormenting her than she could ever hope to know. "What do you need, Yue-kun," he asked teasingly.

The noise that came from Usagi's throat was a mixture of a rough sigh, a pleading whine, and a cry of indignation. Why hadn't she just gone and bought a tampon from the girl's restroom? Sure, it would be bad news if she got caught, and she'd be stuck suffering through this, but at least she'd still have some of her dignity. Still, he was waiting, and Usagi realized that this was half of the fun for him–knowing that he had her right where he wanted her.

"You know what I need," she pleaded, trying not to let herself sound like some junkie begging for a fix. She was desperate, and walked right up to his desk, trying to find some shred of mercy in him. "Please," she whispered.

He looked truly, truly pleased. His eyes glittered wickedly–he had her no matter what happened. She'd need the pads if she wanted to continue on with her charade, and her day would be quite painful if she didn't get some painkillers. "It will cost you," he told her. He hadn't really needed to say it, they'd both already known that the price tacked on to the favor would be exuberant, but Usagi just had to bear with it.

"I- I know," she said, her voice cracking, her fear and distress making themselves known. "Please," she whispered, truly humiliated now. This was what he'd wanted, of course. Her, down on her knees, begging him to help her, for some kind of relief. Schuldich liked power, but he also had a sadistic streak that ran deeply. If he could tease her or torment her in any way, then he'd exploit it to the fullest.

Unfortunately for Usagi, she was weak in every way that mattered when it came to battling off the fiend.

"How much will it cost," Usagi asked, trying hard not to cry. She blamed it on the mood swings, and although that was mostly true, she also knew that it accounted from the fact that she was on the verge of her wit's end. She just had too many things that were too different to worry about.

Schuldich knew he had the upper hand. "How much are you willing to give me,"
he asked. He already knew the answer.

Usagi gulped, and the tears brimmed over from her eyes and clung to her lashes before spilling down her flushed cheeks as hot, tiny water droplets. "The sky's the limit," she replied hopelessly. What was the point? He had her in a bind. It wasn't like people wouldn't notice certain abnormalcies if she told him no. She knew that if she tried to bargain with him, she'd lose. There was no point.

Schuldich's chair scraped against the linoleum floor as he pushed it back. He grabbed a few items from inside the drawer and took them out. A bottle of aspirin and a bag of feminine napkins. He crossed in front of his desk and pinned her against it for a few moments. "There, there now," he chided gently, "it's not so hard to give in. I'll let you in on a secret, if you'd like.

"You're not really as afraid of me as you think. You associate the way your body acts with fear . . . but think about it. Aren't you afraid to go on a roller coaster, even though you know it will be perfectly safe? The truth is that you like it more than you'll admit–and that's what terrifies you."

He stole a kiss from her, licked up the tears from her cheeks, and stole another rough, demanding kiss. The bell rang, and he released her, but Usagi was frozen in place. He gave her the items that she'd sought, grinning merrily. Almost in triumph. "If you hurry, you might be able to make it to class in time," he called over his shoulder; he was heading back to the little closet he had at his disposal... perhaps to arrange for his class, more likely to plot what he intended to do to her first.

Usagi slunk out of the classroom, unsure of what to do with herself but knowing what she needed. She ran to the privacy of the restrooms, fighting back more tears. What he'd said had struck a nerve in her. Was it true? What was the likelihood that it wasn't?

Usagi wandered around like a lost soul with a deadened look in her eyes. She felt drained and tired already, and it was only first period. Schuldich had the power to simply suck the life right out of her. He was an enigmatic force, and he demanded without consideration.

Omi looked after Yue-kun, concern written all over his face. His friend had hardly said more than five sentences since he'd come back after his frantic run. He'd managed to avoid the crowds of fangirls and ducked into class just before the late bell rang. But he didn't look good; he looked both sad and a little sick.

Omi looked towards Nagi, hoping that the member of Schwartz might have a clue. From the look on his face, he did–in fact, that dark, brooding look of distaste said more than Omi was sure he wanted to know. Yue had gone and visited Schuldich–why, though, Omi couldn't even begin to fathom. It wasn't as though the special treatment he received in Health class wasn't bad enough... Omi was beginning to wonder, horrified, if perhaps Schuldich had been telling the truth when he'd said Yue enjoyed it. He just didn't want to believe it.

Omi turned back to Yue-kun and saw that the teacher was facing the board, his spiel on hyperbolas going on. "Yue-kun, are you alright," he whispered.

Usagi looked up at Omi, and he was almost devastated by the numb look in his friend's blue eyes. It made him want to hug Yue. It was only the knowledge of what might happen to them that kept him from doing it. He needed Nagi as an ally, he couldn't afford to ostracize Yue from the rest of the school, and Schuldich would certainly go after her with renewed vigor.

Surprisingly, though, Yue-kun just nodded his head in a curt "yes." That was hardly like Yue at all. No, he wasn't the most open sort, but he didn't lie. What Omi did not know, though, was that Usagi had decided to try to renew her efforts to act more like a guy.

The problem was, she didn't understand boys' behavior in general. They were loud, foreign creatures, much in the same way that they had been before. They liked to get dirty, to play rough, to yell and call each other names. They were lewd and perverted, and . . . masculine. Usagi didn't understand how or why they functioned that way, but she had to start acting more like them.

The bell marking the end of first period rang, and Usagi arose with the rest of her talkative class. The teacher was yelling the night's assignment over the din, but she wasn't paying attention. Instead, she was paying close attention to the boys. Or rather, the way they moved. It might be too late, and there might be no use, but she needed to at least try to behave in a way that was more masculine.

Usagi rose, and tried to emulate the way the other boys walked, but it was just odd. With a sigh, she gave up, and resumed her normal stance. Most of the people she'd met thought that she was just a very feminine boy. Perhaps that would be well enough. Still, she'd keep trying, even if the effort was futile.

Usagi noticed that Nagi and Omi had hung back away from her. Had she hurt their feelings? Were they mad at her? She wanted to know, but she couldn't ask. That wasn't something that guys talked about. Feelings like sadness and fear and unhappiness weren't supposed to effect boys. Should she ignore it?

Usagi was getting a headache. How was she supposed to act like a boy when she didn't even know the first thing about them? They were still a foreign species to her. She was, however, giving herself a terrible headache over all of this.

"Is something wrong," she finally chanced to ask, as they seemed to slip further away from her in the hall. It was funny, because it wasn't that crowded right now–almost everyone else had scurried off to class by now in order to avoid adding a tardy to their record. It was kind of funny, because although the boys had seemed to tolerate one another, they'd never really shown any signs of liking one another..

A sudden and very serious thought dawned on her. What if Omi and Nagi were gay!? They both thought that she was really a guy, right? So then they must have been, because Schuldich wouldn't have leaked her secret. And that was only because he liked to know things that other people didn't; he was sadistic like that. But they both had kissed her, and they were both guys . . . who also thought that she was also a guy . . .

Usagi's head pounded; how the heck had her life ever gotten so complicated. No one had ever told her how to deal with a love triangle quite like this!

"You go on ahead, U-Yue-kun," Nagi told her, nearly slipping. He just barely caught himself before he made a fatal mistake. Usagi was extraordinarily upset, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why, either. Nagi had known from the start that morning that there was something off about the cocky attitude Schuldich had displayed. Schuldich was always cocky and overconfident, but his attitude had been exceptionally so that morning.

"We'll see you later, Yue-kun," he tried to reassure his friend. Normally Omi would have frowned on the thought of skipping class, but in this case... something had to be done. He was tired of Schuldich yanking his friend around like a puppet on a string. He wouldn't allow one of the people in the world that he cared about to be treated so badly.

"Wait a minute," she yelped, confused. "What about class? We have P.E. next!" She looked at one of them and then the other in disbelief and mounting realization. They both had those stubborn looks on their faces, as though they refused to be deterred from whatever they were after.

"You'll be okay; Ken-kun will look after you. And it won't be so bad, because we're not doing football anymore."

"But–" Usagi began to protest, but they were already off. The tardy bell sounded, and Usagi scuttled into class, dreading it.

Meanwhile, Nagi and Omi headed upstairs to have a chat with a certain German
assassin. Omi didn't understand why Yue cooperated with Schuldich's demands, but he refused to believe that his friend enjoyed the advances like Schuldich claimed. He had a strong hunch that Schuldich was blackmailing him somehow.

What was it, though? What lurid secret could Yue-kun possibly be in possession? The Liang Yue that he knew–who was a bit cowardly and not at all violent–couldn't possibly... But then again, it would explain why all of Schwartz seemed to have gotten involved. Still, if that were the case, then why was Prodigy–or Nagi–willing to help him?

Mysteries within mysteries, and everything seemed to contradict itself.

"He'll only be living with you all for a short time," Nagi said suddenly. Omi didn't have to ask who Nagi meant; he simply looked at Nagi. "Don't get used to it."

"And where's he going to live? With you all? Around Schuldich, who's got dishonorable intentions, to say the least? Around Berserker," he hissed, looking around him in case anyone should pass by, "who belongs in an assylum? You'll get him killed, or worse. At least with us he's safe."

Nagi frowned deeply. Of course he'd considered the problem with Schuldich, but he'd figured that with Crawford on his side, Schuldich could be dealt with. Farfarello was an entirely different ball game. You could "tell" Farfarello what to do all you wanted, but Farfarello was a berserker, and as such, he tended to be a wild card–hence the name. And from the problems that Yue had had with Farfarello in the past, that problem could only hope to escalate.

They were both lucky that the hallway was empty. All of the students had already headed into class to be taught. Nagi frowned when he saw that Schuldich's door was closed and locked. He wasn't supposed to use his powers, but he knew for a fact that Schuldich was in there. Nagi concentrated and the lock clicked open, sprung as though an unseen key had turned the bolt within the door handle.

They walked in, ready. Of course, Schuldich was also prepared and waiting.

"My, my! Such loud, angry thoughts coming from the two of you," he drawled leisurely. He was sitting on his desk, flipping his cigarette carton's lid open and closed. From the pleased look on his face–like a bratty child being appeased after another temper tantrum–he'd been anticipating this.

"What did you do to Yue-kun," Omi demanded accusingly. Schuldich was psychic, so there was no need to beat around the bush, but it was obvious that if they didn't say anything, then they'd never get anywhere.

Schuldich just looked at Omi, as though the very insinuation of him doing something immoral or cruel to a student of his was blasphemy. His look was of complete, total, and fake innocence. "Yue-kun? Oh, you must mean my little bunny rabbit. I only played a little game with what was already rightfully mine.

Omi's scowl deepened and he fingered his darts hidden in his pocket. He'd known full well that he could get expelled if he was caught carrying weapons around. That was the choice that he'd had to make, though–he'd do no less than that for any of his friends.

This time, though, it was Nagi's turn to speak.

"Crawford told you not to touch her. I told you not to touch her." Instantly, as though the gravity in the room had been turned off by a switch, the objects in the room rose from their natural resting places to hover ominously in the air.

Silence filled the tense atmosphere, and no one made a move. Omi was feeling both befuddled and a little frightened. Her? Who was "her?" Weren't they here about Yue-kun? Or was there something else that Omi didn't know?

It would have driven him crazy, if it weren't for the fact that he was in a room with one, if not two, possible psychopaths. Not to mention that every item in the room–including chairs and desks–had become possible projectile weapons, all just hovering readily in mid air. Perhaps that might have been why the hair on the back of his neck was standing up and his flesh had broken out in goosebumps.

Schuldich didn't appear worried, though. In fact, despite the possibility of his youngest teammate threatening to hurl dozens of blunt objects at him until he died, he hadn't even blinked an eye. "Now, Nagi-kins, Crawford would never approve of this kind of behavior. You don't want to give away our secrets, do you now? What if someone were to walk by and see this?"

Nagi hesitated; Schuldich had hit below the belt. Nagi thought the world of cold, reserved Crawford. Worse than that, though, would be if their cover was blown. Assassins was bad enough, but being known as a psychic would be even worse in some ways. There were people who made hunting psychics a living.

Sure, plenty of people suspected that there were psychics out in there in the world, and plenty of them also proclaimed that it could be incredible if they could meet someone in possession of that kind of gift. If they were to know the truth, though, they reacted badly. They would be proclaimed outcasts, freaks. They might be called witches. They could be slaughtered; it had happened to better people than they for less. It would be disastrous.

Nagi dropped all of the objects with a sudden, violently loud crash, and even Schuldich couldn't help but wince at the cacophony. "I won't be paying for that," he warned Nagi–of course, it would be a matter of explaining the situation to Crawford later. Who knew if their leader would side with him on the matter; on the one hand, it was money, and on the other hand, he'd been truly displeased with Schuldich as of late.

Nagi gave Schuldich one last dark, meaningful look. Schuldich knew full well that strong emotions tended to "enhance" Nagi's abilities. This display had only been a warning–if he were to actually do something to Usagi, Nagi might very well find some creative way to kill him.

Omi left after him, frowning. He'd been hoping that their confrontation with Schuldich was going to be the last of its kind. Apparently, though, it hadn't gone over as well as he hoped. "We're just letting it go," he demanded, almost angrily.

"For now," was all Nagi said.

P.E. had never been Usagi's forte, but she couldn't remember ever having been quite so... uniquely embarrassed over it. If only Nagi and Omi were there!

It was difficult without either of her friends there to support her. In the locker room, all of the other boys gave her dirty looks, like she'd gotten them into trouble. And she had to wait until they had all changed and gone before she could change herself.

Usagi shivered, naked but for her undergarments. It was so, so cold down there, and kind of damp, too. It reeked of sweat, but then again, it was a locker room for boys. Still, even if it was to be expected, it was bad.

Usagi redressed into her clothes quickly; she hated feeling vulnerable, and being even slightly undressed around guys made her paranoid. She could just imagine some boy walking in on her and seeing for himself that Yue wasn't just a girly guy–he was really a girl. And then her cover would be completely blown.

Usagi ran out to join the rest of her class on the field. The rest of the boys were joking around and generally having a blast. She, however, was left out. Neither Nagi or Omi were here for her, and she'd never made friends with the others. Mostly, that was due to her shyness and their general disdain for her. It was hard to like the guy that all the girl's fawned over.

A sudden sharp whistle interrupted the chatter and brought an abrupt halt to it. They were still grinning, but they no longer were speaking. Instead they were listening quietly, waiting for instructions. It was Ken, she realized. She had forgotten that Ken was their new P.E. teacher, although her head hadn't; it still ached a little from the mass attacks the soccer balls had made the day before.

It was kind of strange, though. Crawford had taken the principal's position, the nurse had been replaced by Aya, and Yohji had become a lunch lady–or lunch lord; she'd have to remember that to throw in his face for later. Then there was Ken, who was their new P.E. teacher, and Schuldich was her Health teacher–although it seemed much more appropriate to call him the sex ed teacher, since that was what he'd focused on from day one. Usagi still wondered how he had managed to get into that position. To top it all off, Nagi had enrolled, even though he'd told her that he had private schooling.

The only one missing was the knife-wielding Farfarello, and he was certifiable! Just how had they all gotten those jobs? They couldn't possibly all have certificates and degrees for it. There had to be something that she still didn't know about. Although, to be fair, she had her secrets, too.

Ken appeared a moment later, lugging around a huge mesh bag over his shoulder. Usagi noticed that it was filled with soccer balls. She ought to have been relieved that they were no longer playing football, but she knew for a fact that she was no better at the latter than the former. "Alright, everyone! We're going to be practicing dribbling, passing, and shooting again today. Get into the same groups you were in yesterday," he told them, before distributing to them balls.

Usagi watched the boys take their soccer balls and head on across the field in groups of four or five. She remained still, though, feeling conspicuous and odd. She had essentially become the "odd man out," and the feeling of not belonging intensified. Being and feeling so alone was almost painful.

Ken looked at her, and for a moment, he looked a bit puzzled. His eyes dawned with realization, though; it was the stranger that had come to live with them in their house. Omi's friend, Yue Liang... and the young man who had been knocked out yesterday before class could even begin.

"Ah, Yue-kun," he said. Usagi watched, dumbfounded, as several different emotions transformed her new teacher's face. There was curiosity, and welcoming, and... perhaps a hint of embarrassment. What had he to be embarrassed about, though? "I'm sorry, I forgot. Ah... are you feeling a bit better after yesterday's accident?"

Usagi looked at him confused for a moment before realizing what the problem was. She was just fine, but he didn't know, and although they'd been living in the same house for about two days, Usagi could swear she hadn't seen him at all yesterday evening. So either he'd been extremely busy, or he'd been avoiding her like the plague. Usagi thought it was incredibly sweet; she would have hugged him if it weren't inappropriate for several different reasons.

"I'm just fine," she responded cheerfully, hoping to lessen his guilt a bit. "Nurse Aya took good care of me," she added as an after thought.

Ken burst into laughter, and Usagi was surprised. She hadn't expected him to pick up on her joke, although he did live with Aya, too. Had lived with Aya longer than even she had. "He doesn't have much of a bedside manner, does he," Ken agreed.

Usagi grinned back helplessly. She honestly couldn't help but mirror Ken's facial expression; it was contagious. He had what Ami would have called charisma. Maybe P.E. wouldn't be so bad, after all.

"Have you ever played soccer before," he asked, not unkindly. He managed to lift one of the stray soccer balls littering the ground onto the toe of his shoe and then swiped it off swiftly before it could roll off.

Usagi gave him a small nod "yes." She had played it before–not well, but she'd still participated as best she could. She would never have been able to pull that off, even if she did have some kind of gift with soccer. She simply wasn't that deft or swift.

He nodded expectantly. "Were you any good?" Usagi could tell he didn't mean it as an insult, though. He'd probably seen her misjudge the space between her hips and the table the five gazillion times she'd hit it since she'd arrived. Yohji laughingly said that there was some kind of magnetism; Usagi swore the thing jumped out and attacked her each time. She shook her head no, feeling a little embarrassed again.

He laughed, just a little. Usagi didn't feel embarrassed due to her lack of skill, though. He wasn't belittling her or making fun of her. He didn't seem too surprised, either.

"Well, would you like to get in a group with anyone else? I'm sure they'd be willing to help show you the ropes, if you liked." Usagi surveyed her classmates with unease. Almost as though they inherently knew she was wondering if she could join them, they shot her a round of dirty looks. If only Nagi and Omi had decided to show up, she thought again.

Still, perhaps she was relying on her friends too heavily. She was the one responsible for her own situation, and from the very beginning she'd been lucky enough to have someone support her. She couldn't always expect them to be there for her. Usagi silently resolved that she'd try to depend on them a little less. A little self reliance never hurt anyone.

"I see," Ken murmured. He wondered just where Nagi and Omi were at. Yohji and Aya had said that the Schwartz member had delivered Yue to them, almost like a package. But the idea of handing someone that you valued over to your enemies was ludicrous. Still, both boys were missing–perhaps it was true, and Omi really had made some kind of pact with Prodigy.

"Well, I can teach you, if you'd like," he offered. It was an offer that Usagi was more than happy to take up. While they played–or rather Ken showed her what to do and she screwed up famously–she noted the things he did and said, tried to think and react to them like a guy would. In the end, she hadn't learned a whole lot, but she could kick the ball without slipping in the mud.

"Alright, everyone," Ken shouted after giving off a short blow of his whistle. "Put the balls back in the bag and go hit the showers." Usagi hung back as the other students went along, back inside the building. She didn't quite know what to do, but she knew one thing for sure: she couldn't go and shower with the other boys. That would open up one too many cans of worms for her tastes.

She flushed, though, watching Ken gather some of the balls that had been neglected. He was wearing a shirt but that didn't hide much. It was designed for athletes, after all. The point was, though, that Usagi got another good look at those rippling muscles and a very firm butt.

She flushed, and looked away, horrified at her behavior. Maybe she didn't behave like a guy in any other way, but she was turning into some sort of pervert! What was wrong with her? She had to admit, though, that while she wasn't crazy about muscles and never had been, she could see a certain appeal in them now.

"Is there something wrong, Yue-kun? You should be showering with them." Usagi looked back at Ken and tried to fight off her flush. How should she explain this? How could she lie? Perhaps... Well, she felt guilty doing it, but there was no other choice. It was time to distract Ken.

"Was Omi-kun feeling good today? He didn't come to class," she explained. Add just another lie to her ever-growing list. After all, Omi had told her personally that he'd simply had other things he had to do. Him and Nagi, together. Which seemed... well, somehow, she just couldn't see the two of them getting along about much, even though they'd worked together so far to help her. Oh, she hoped they weren't fighting with each other or something so juvenile.

"As far as I know. You're right, though, he didn't show up. That's unlike him, too." Ken looked up at the sky, worried. Omi took all of his classes–even P.E.–quite seriously. It was unheard of for him to do something as frivolous as cut a class. Perhaps he was sick. He'd talk with Aya this next period–he had it off. That was, of course, if the ever-present crowd of girls in front of his door ever left long enough for him to get in. Why no one had sent them to class or to the office for punishment, he couldn't even begin to guess.

Ken came out of his thoughts simply as a snap as the bell marking the end of the period rang. "You're late, and you haven't even showered yet!"

"Well, you are a teacher," she pointed out to him. "You could just write me a pass, right?" There was a long pause as Ken seemed to be weighing out whether or not that would be ethical. "Pllleeeeaaase? I mean, we are living together."

It was only after the statement had popped out of her mouth that Usagi realized just how bad that really sounded. If it weren't for her desperate attempts to act like a boy–even though it was too late–she'd have visibly reacted with embarrassment. Usagi held herself in check, but avoided looking at him.

Had she been looking, though, she'd have seen Ken's blush. "I suppose so. You have to hurry, though." Usagi nodded in agreement before taking off as quickly as she could run back to the school building.

"So do you intend to tell me exactly why you're here, Yohji," Aya asked, sorting the papers on his desk idly. He was mildly irritated at his teammate. This morning it had been Yohji's turn to make sure that the coffee was ready for Aya–he needed the caffeinated bliss to wake up. And guess who forgot?

Yohji swept his fingers through his honey blonde locks again. How it had missed the feeling of swinging free. It was so nice to feel it loose from its confines. Damn hair net.

"It's about "Liang-kun." Don't you think he's a bit suspicious?" Yohji peered at Aya closely, regarding the icy assassin.

Aya gave Yohji The Look. "Of course he's suspicious–Schwarz asked us to take him in, and Omi agreed. The whole thing stinks like a dump truck."

"No, no, no! I mean, I think that Liang's more than he says he is." Aya arched his left eyebrow, finally giving his teammate his full and undivided attention. "What, do you think Liang's a psychic, too? Some kind of obscure inductee to Schwarz? That they're using him to infiltrate Weiss and Kritiker?"

These thoughts had already crossed Aya's mind, but he'd dismissed them. Although personality didn't specifically affect a person's capacity to become an assassin–just look at the lot of them!–Yue just didn't seem to have what it took. In particular, a bitter, cold shard that stung the heart with ever-flowing poison. In fact, he could hardly imagine Yue harming a butterfly, much less a person–Yue was about as harmful looking as a three week old kitten.

"No," Yohji insisted. "I mean... look, Liang looks like a girl. He doesn't even act like a boy. Don't you think there's something suspicious about that?"

Oh, Aya realized. He sighed to himself. "Believe it or not, Yohji, I have better things to do than to discuss Liang's sexuality or behavior." Although, it was an interesting subject, a voice inside him whispered... He shut that thought down before it could go any further. "Aside from that, it shouldn't matter to you. He makes Omi happy."

Yohji gaped when he realized what Aya was saying. "I'm–look, what I'm trying to say is that I don't think Yue's a guy!"

Aya snorted in disbelief. "Are you still upset about flirting with him? You really shouldn't let that bother you–Yue does look like a girl. It would be easy for anyone to make the same mistake." Although, if Yohji wouldn't act so much on his hormones, it would never have been a problem in the first place.

Yue looks especially like a girl when he's asleep, a rebellious voice reminded him. The way Yue had looked when Aya had barged in and woken him up came back to him. Aya turned back to face his desk, and pretended that he suddenly found his red pen to be a fascinating object.

"I'm being serious, here. How can you not see it," Yohji demanded angrily. Aya had to agree with the fact that Yue was effeminate, but that didn't mean anything. It was too bad that he was straight, a small voice whispered, and that Yue was a boy... and underage... and interested in Omi.... Once again, Aya smothered these thoughts. He promised himself that as soon as he got the chance he would go on some kind of training expedition in order to strengthen his vigilance from such frivolous thoughts.

"If you're so convinced, why don't you find out? You're the one who used to be a private eye, after all." Aya snapped his reply out as soon as it had come to mind–normally he was not nearly so rash. Instantly, he regretted it. Not that he cared whether or not he hurt Yohji's feelings, but because this would put a strain on the team.

Indeed, Yohji's lips had become pursed and his eyes slightly narrowed. Aya ought to have known better than to bring that subject up; how could he be so careless? Yohji himself desired a cigarette strongly after having to endure his "beloved leader." When he'd been in highschool as a student, he'd gone out back to smoke in the baseball dugout. That would no longer be possible, seeing that people were really cracking down on the smoking crap and he was an employee and receiving a paycheck, albeit a slim one.

"Alright," Yohji grated out. He pulled his hair net on again angrily. So what if Aya didn't believe him? Yohji was sure of himself, and he'd prove he was right. "I will." Yohji made sure to slam the clinic's door closed extra hard behind him on the way out. Aya just sighed to himself, wondering why the oldest member of the team had to act like a petulant child and why thoughts of Liang kept invading his thoughts.

Usagi considered the subject of Omi and Nagi carefully. She had met up with them after PE in English, her most dreaded subject. They had supplied no excuse for their absence earlier, and she'd been too shy to mention it. From the looks on their faces, the subject was closed. So Usagi had pretended that nothing had happened. It wasn't like it was really her business, anyhow, although she didn't want to think about Crawford or Aya

Instead, she took serious thought as to whether it would be possible for her to pass physics. It was a combination of her two most dreaded classes, and she had serious doubts that even with both Nagi and Omi tutoring her that she could salvage her average. Maybe extra credit, then? But there wasn't enough extra credit in the world to save her now. If only she'd admitted it to Omi earlier, rather than have waited until it was too late to worry about it.

A strange and awful thought occurred to her. Although her teacher would never be likely to give her credit or to pass her–she seemed to have some distinct and awful animosity for Usagi, or Yue–perhaps Schuldich could help her out. He was, after all, a psychic–he'd controlled her on more than one occasion.

Usagi opened her locker door angrily, lecturing herself. How could she even think of such a thing, even in jest? Schuldich was a sadist, and he abused his powers to satisfy himself and torment other people. How cruel and misguided was she to actually wish what she was experiencing on someone else? Oh, she was stupid.

Usagi scanned through the books in her locker. Hastily, she shoved away her Physics book and her English book–there was no point in studying something she was doomed to fail, anyhow. What did she need next...? She hated it when she got brain farts! (1)

"Liang-kun, right," a sly voice said behind her. Startled, Usagi turned to face the person who'd addressed her, but found herself blinded by a flash of painfully bright light. She staggered back into her locker door, and the metal edge prodded painfully into her back. "Oh, what the h-"

"Now, now, Liang-kun, the camera's rolling," the girl exclaimed, scolding her. "You should watch your language." Sure enough, as Usagi regained her vision, she saw that the scary girl who'd "attacked" her with the camera was indeed also taping her.

"What are you doing," Usagi exclaimed, trying to blink out the milky green-white rectangle obscuring her vision.

"Why, getting your interview for the broadcasting club, silly," the girl told her. It was obvious, but it was equally unexpected. Usagi couldn't help but be creeped out in a bad way. The light shone off the girl's glasses eerily. "Now, please, tell us all who you're going out with."

Usagi blanched at hearing that, and her eyes became quite large. Were they allowed to ask questions like that!? "Going out with," she chocked out, repeating the words like pirate's tropical parrot. Vaguely, she realized that time was passing and a crowd was gathering around her, but she was just too shocked to do anything sensible.

"Well, of course! What with all of the gorgeous young men you're always surrounded by, you must be going out with one of them, right? So which one is it? Is it the new health teacher, by any chance? I think he's particularly sexy, myself," she said, winking, as though they were coconspirators and not hunter and prey. Usagi flushed a deep red, truly realizing for the first time what it must look like to outsiders. And if they only knew she was really a girl...!

And as though Schuldich really needed his ego stoked any further.

"So, which one is it," the girl pressed, edging closer. Usagi began to look for an escape route, but found her efforts to be in vain. Between the crowd and the scary girl, she was trapped!

Quite suddenly, the group began to part, and some of the students looked quite scared. Usagi understood exactly why–suddenly it seemed as though she stepped right out of the frying pan and straight into the fire. Anything else would have been preferable–anything! "Far-Farfarello,"she squeaked.

And so it was the resident Irish mad man, with snow white hair and his hawk-gold eye. He almost looked presentable in the navy blue suit and the red tie that he wore. That was if you ignored his wild hair. Or the patch covering his other eye. Or the scars that littered his face quite visibly–ludicrous thoughts of introducing the man to conceallor and powder danced in her head, and Usagi seriously contemplated the idea that she was going insane herself.

"Farfarello? Who's that?" Usagi scooted further away from Farfarello, as far as the creepy girl would let her get. She held her books in front of her chest, as thought they'd be able to save her from the impending doom nick-named Farfarello. He moved steadily toward her, silently, undaunted by the crowd. Of course they didn't get in his way; how stupid would one have to be to bother some who looked so ominous?

"He's right there," Usagi sputtered in alarm, pointing. How could she not see him? He stood out like some exotic animal on a ranch. A lion, maybe, getting ready to do some heavy damage to the flock of lambs in front of him.

"Him? He's your boyfriend?" From the girl's tone of voice, she seemed to think that was simply insane. Usagi was amazed the other girl had been that stupid to make that kind of deduction. Couldn't she see just how incredibly frightened Usagi was? She must have been blind. Suddenly, her period and the possibility of being tardy seemed quite trivial–they were the least of all her problems. The last time she'd encountered Farfarello, he'd been ready to cut her up into little strips of meat!

What was he, of all people, doing here?

"No, you–"

"Boyfriend," Farfarello repeated, sounding out the word out. He cocked his head to the side, like he was confused, or like a dog being addressed by an unfamiliar name. He was considering it, weighing it, considering her, she realized, to her steadily growing horror. "Do you think being an underaged gay boy's lover would hurt God?" (2)

"What," the girl asked, thrown entirely off kilter. It almost seemed as though she was really seeing him for the first time. "I... I suppose so," she said, looking frightened, sounding uncertain... was that the right answer? Usagi had to share her sentiments, only she really understood exactly what this man was capable, and therefor her fear was about, oh, ten fold her interviewer's.

Farfarello's single golden eye glittered with relish, like a flame had been ignited behind it. He seemed to be reevaluating Usagi's worth right as she watched. Usagi didn't like that; if anything, she'd rather be an unnoticeable, insignificant speck on the floor. Having Farfarello notice and decide he took stock in your existence was a bad thing. A bad, bad, BAD thing.

"I will be his–"

"NO!" Usagi cut Farfarello off before he could finish. She was simply unable to hold back the shriek of horror that had been brewing in her throat. In the silence that followed, the tardy bell rang. Instantly, people began to scurry off to their classes, scattering like roaches when the lights turned on, even though it was already too late.

As though a spell had finally been broken, Usagi was finally able to escape. She darted off to her next class, running like she had hell at her heels. Never mind that her next class was health, and liable to be a hell of its own. Anything to get away from Farfarello–she'd take Schuldich over him any day!

"What are you doing in the hallway, Farfarello," Crawford called, pushing his glasses up higher on his nose again. "I thought I told you to stay in the office." He pointed at the door, as though Farfarello needed to physically see exactly where he needed to be.

Farfarello just smiled his deranged, face splitting grin. "Scaring school children hurts God," he half-mumbled, half cackled. He acquiesced to going back to Crawford's office, though. Crawford let out a "why-me" sigh. They couldn't leave Farfarello home alone while they all worked here; who knew what mischief he'd get up to!?

Frankly, Crawford couldn't afford to buy more blenders, and Schuldich claimed not to have the time to go bury stray cats in the backyard anymore. Instead, he spent his time plotting different ways to torture and humiliate Yue when they weren't on some oddball mission or another. So, since they couldn't hire someone to look after the berserker, he'd had to bring him here. To a school. The only worse possible place they could have taken him to would have been a church.

"Late, and unprepared Liang-kun," Schuldich sighed, pretending to be grieved by this knowledge. "You have lunch next, don't you?" Usagi nodded, feeling in the pit of her stomach exactly what was going to happen next. "Please stay after class so that I may have a word with you."

Usagi nodded, acquiescing wordlessly. There was simply no point in avoiding it. Aside from that, she owed him. She took her seat and tried to pay attention to the lesson. If there was one; she'd begun to notice that, aside from trying to get at her, Schuldich's lessons had very little purpose.

Usagi twirled her pencil between her fingers. Soooo bored. She'd forgotten how boring this class could be. Normally, she was on edge because Schuldich might get her. Aside from knowing that she owed him, she just didn't feel like fighting. That awful ache in her abdomen was back, and she winced to herself.

"Liang-kun, pay attention, unless you want me to give you detention." Usagi looked up, blue eyes surprised. He wouldn't, would he? You'd better believe it, bunny, was the simple reply she received.

"I already have to go to the principle's office after school," she muttered, half to herself. And it was all Schuldich's fault. If he hadn't distracted her, then she wouldn't have gotten into trouble, so she wouldn't have had to clap erasers, and she wouldn't have nearly fallen out the window to the pavement below, and she wouldn't have pissed Crawford off. The funny thing was that even though she knew he couldn't tell she was smarting off to him outwardly, he was bound to be able to hear her thoughts.

Really, then? I guess you can stay a little later, then. His voice sounded clipped and measured–angry. Yes, she'd managed to set him off. She wondered to herself why that would upset him so bad. It was just Crawford, after all.

Schuldich popped in a video tape and turned off the lights. The class was bathed in the electronic glow from the tv screen, although as time passed, fewer and fewer of the students were paying attention. Usagi wasn't too interested, it was some tape about the dangers of STDs. That wasn't something that she'd likely have to worry about. Certain hypocritical health teachers, on the other hand...

Ha, ha, so funny. You really ought to consider a career as a comedian, Usako. Soooo funny.

Usagi focused her attention on Schuldich again. He was behaving like some little kid who'd been denied his candy. Are you pouting, she asked, wanting to laugh in spite of herself.

You think it's funny, Usako? Crawford's making me pay for the mess your friends made earlier today. Not only that, he's even threatened to fire me. Schuldich didn't even bother to mention that Crawford had declared himself as competition–she'd never believe him, anyhow. Oh, yes, he was pouting, Usagi decided–the scowl on his face and his slouching posture were obvious signs.

What do you mean, she wondered. Friends? It occurred to her that he must have been referring to Omi and Nagi. She glanced at both of them–Omi was watching the video, but mostly because of the "ten facts" they had to gather. He glanced back at her and saw her looking at him. She flashed him a small smile and then gave her attention to her own paper. What did they do?

Never mind it; I'll handle them later. The real question at hand is what I intend to do to you first. Usagi gulped, and flushed–she had no idea what his "request" might range to. Something wild, bizarre, and ultimately humiliating, probably. You forgot to list thrilling. You're lucky that I know you're resisting purely on principle, or I'd really have to discipline you.

Usagi shuddered; when he used the word "discipline," he made it sound dirty. Like something you don't talk about in high society. Or even under normal situations, for that matter. Yeah, lucky me, she grumbled sarcastically.

You really have no idea, do you, Schuldich asked, sounding thoughtful.

Usagi snorted under her breathe. What do I have to be thankful for, she asked. You molesting me? Usagi wondered half-fearfully if she'd gone too far that time. Luckily, Schuldich just let the comment roll off like rain.

Usagi fidgeted in the dark. She could feel Schuldich watching her, but she tried to ignore him. Instead, she focused her attention on the ridiculously boring video. She was relieved when it ended, and even when Schuldich came around to collect the papers–which she doubted he'd even read, much less grade–she still didn't feel alarmed, per se.

She had forgotten Schuldich's earlier request, and it was only after she'd gathered all of her belongings to leave that he reminded her. "Liang-kun, if you'd please stay after class...?"

Usagi sighed and sat back down on her seat. Escape was so near and yet so very far.... Usagi wished she were closer to the door. But then, at the same time, it would have only made her more wistful. She watched all of the other students go, including girls who expressed various attitudes of sympathy and envy. You can have him, if you want, she grumbled to herself.

Finally, there was no one left in the room besides Schuldich, Omi, Nagi, and herself. They were closer to the front of the room than she, but neither one of them made a move for the door. Instead, they watched both her and Schuldich like they were expecting them both suspiciously. It made her feel nervous, grateful, and hurt at the same time–it was like they half expected that she must have enjoyed it since she didn't resist violently.

"Did I ask either of you boys to stay? Nein. Just Liang-kun. Now, if you'd please leave so that I might address the matter in private?" He didn't have to physically or mentally add "or else" or try to influence them. The threat was quite obvious.

Still, they hesitated. "It's alright, Omi-kun, Nagi-kun. It won't take too long," she reassured them, trying to seem nonchalant. That's right, she wasn't at all worried about being left in a room... alone... with a known psychotic pervert who read her mind like it was a magazine on the table in a waiting room. Not at all! "And I'll come eat lunch with you guys." Finally, they left, and Usagi waited, eyes scrunched closed, bracing herself for whatever what might happen.

She wasn't prepared for what came next. "Massage my neck," Schuldich told her, mouth wrapped around an unlit cigarette.

Usagi's eyes popped open again and became quite wide. It seemed like she had wide eyes a lot, these days. "What?!"

"Massage my neck," he repeated, turning around so that his back faced her. He then sat down on her lap unceremoniously. "Your friends have really made me tense–I have a headache, too, so consider yourself lucky that I don't make you massage my scalp, too."

Usagi made a disgusted noise. "And why would I ever want to help you in any way? Whatever they did to upset you... you probably earned it!"

He turned his head to look at her, and she could see that she was obviously pushing it to the limit. "You think so, Usako? Either massage my neck, or I can do something far more fun with you, right here, right now." An explicit image of two half naked entangled bodies on top of a desk flashed into her mind, and Usagi shrieked in dual outrage and embarrassment. "It's your choice."

Usagi mumbled under her breath, but placed her hands on his shoulders. Instantly he began to relax, slouching. "Geez. Such a baby," she muttered. Still, she began to knead her fingers hands, working out the knots in his muscles. It was a little gross, she admitted, but at the same time, she almost felt bad for him.

And just why the heck should she feel bad for him, though? He was always doing things to upset her, teasing her and her friends. Broadcasting lewd images into her mind, kissing her against her will... The list went on endlessly! It's because you're a bleeding heart, he informed her absently. Lower, he instructed, and she obeyed.

Usagi longed to shift her legs–he was so heavy! They were falling asleep. Schuldich made no sign of moving, though. It didn't really surprise her that he only cared about himself. "Are you going to light that cigarette or what?"

"If I did, "Lord Crawford" might fire my ass," he mumbled. He didn't sound half as concerned as he probably ought to over the matter. Maybe it was because this wasn't his real job. Or maybe he was just too zoned out. Come to think of it, what exactly did these guys do?

"What do you really do," she blurted out.

"Hmm? You don't think I'm really a highschool health teacher?"

She snorted in response. "Only if I'm the Queen of England."

"Why, your Majesty," he joked, rather playfully. Usagi was surprised that they were actually holding a conversation–and one that wasn't entirely screeching on her part and him coming onto her. "You don't really want to know what I–what we–do, little rabbit. But I'll tell you this much–it's the absolute same thing that the Weiss kittens do."

"What, you're really florists," Usagi asked, feeling equally unbalanced with that idea as Schuldich being a teacher. How ludicrous! Farfarello in charge of flower arranging? Schuldich brainwashing passerbys into thinking that they needed half a dozen arrangements? Crawford upstairs, probably rolling around naked in a sea of money?

Surprisingly, Schuldich laughed. "You guessed our fearless leader surprisingly well. Crawford has an unparalleled love of money." He took the cigarette out of his mouth and regarded it wistfully. "Well, one more wasted cigarette," he muttered, before throwing it away. (3)

Usagi groaned, stretching her legs out. They had that awful, unpleasant tingling sensation. Still, she staggered up to go–she knew a dismissal when she felt it. Thank goodness he hadn't wanted more than that, though. But if that was the way she really felt, then why did she feel like it had been so anticlimactic?

"Yue-kun–take this with you," Schuldich told her, preparing a note for her. She stopped obediently by his desk, shifting from foot to foot, trying to lessen the pain as her legs slowly woke up again. She reached out to take the folded piece of paper. She opened it up, and it read simply "Welcome to Wonderland," and underneath it, an address was printed. (4)

"What's this," she asked, eyebrow raised. "'Welcome to Wonderland'?" Was that a name? Some kind of weird psychological warfare kind of thing? What...?

"It's the name of a place. It should prove to be interesting, if nothing else. Meet me there on Saturday afternoon- try one-ish. I'll be waiting. That'll be payment plenty for giving you the necessities this morning."

Usagi wondered if he'd had this in his mind all along or if he'd thought of it in the spur of the moment. "Then I won't owe you anymore," she asked, sounding hopeful. She tried not to let them get too far; there was bound to be a catch somewhere. Usagi never got off quite that easy.

He laughed, and she felt doomed. "Of course you still owe me. Or did you forget that I'm keeping your big secret, little one? Saa, so cute," he said, mockingly kissing her on the forehead. "Now, scoot, scoot–it's my lunch period, too, and I intend to spend it smoking."

Usagi escorted herself and down to the lunch room. She'd go get herself some food and go eat outside with Nagi and Omi like they did regularly. She almost felt cheerful on her walk down there despite the days events and certain surprise encounters.

Before she could make it there, though, Usagi was stopped–and by none other than Kirihara from this morning. Usagi was glad that she could keep names and faces straight once again. "Oh, hello."

"Liang-kun, it's your lunch period, right," she asked, looking shy and apologetic. Usagi nodded 'yes' in confirmation. She wondered what was going on...? "Oh, good! Can we please borrow you for a moment?"

"We," Usagi asked in confusion.

"My friends and I–we're responsible for one of the booths at carnival... class A3's. You're in homeroom with us, so that's why we asked you for your assistance. You haven't changed your mind, have you?" She looked a little scared now.

"No, of course now," Usagi smiled at her, trying to put the girl at ease. "I never break my promises, and I told you I'd help. What do you need me for?"

"Oh, good," she proclaimed, actually clapping her hands together in relief. She took him by the arm then and led her into one of the nearby classrooms–the sewing lab, Usagi discovered, by the looks of it. Four other girls sat on stools chatting merrily with one another, but they stopped and watched Usagi attentively when she walked in. Or rather, Yue–sometimes she had to remind herself that the people around her didn't see Usagi Tsukino but Yue Liang. "We need your measurements," Kirihara explained, before picking up a tape measure.

Usagi allowed Kirihara and another girl to measure her–they measured her hips, butt, arms, waiste, legs, shoulders and wrists. "So I'm going to be wearing a costume, then," she asked, trying to keep herself from getting bored—getting your measurements taking wasn't exactly what she'd classify as exciting. "What'll I be?"

"We haven't decided yet," Kirihara admitted as she scrawled down the measurements on a small pad of paper. "We're still trying to decide. But we'll let you know as soon as we're ready to fit it on you," She reassured Yue with a smile.

"We're all done," she proclaimed a moment later. "Thank you for your time, Yue-kun. I know you were heading to lunch when I stopped you–"

"Don't be ridiculous," Usagi reassured her. "It didn't take very long. Besides, I'm happy to help. Let me know when you've got it ready, all right?" Kirihara nodded enthusiastically, and Usagi waved goodbye before returning to her original mission: getting some grub.

Yohji was glad that he'd arranged with one of the other women to switch shifts. They would take this lunch and in return he would work the second lunch period. Still, he really hated this job–ladling slop to the ungrateful little brats. He ought to just let Omi find out the truth the unpleasant way, but instead he was going to be gracious and forgive and forget and share with him some important truths.

It didn't take too long to find him–all he had to do was look for the crowd of drooling, half-rabid girls. Actually, the crowd seemed to have thinned out–either the girls were adjusting to having good looking men on campus or they'd simply come to their senses. And who should Omi be with than the Schwartz brat and the alleged cross-dresser herself.

"Omittchi," Yohji called, grabbing his attention with the much-loathed nickname that only Yohji used. Sure enough, Omi glared at him, just a little, to show his disapproval–probably mostly to the fact that he'd used that name in public, and in front of his little boyfriend no less. Or girlfriend. Girlfriend-pretending-to-be-boyfriend? This was just getting out of hand; life was not supposed to be some complicated little soap opera that Yohji laughed at in the afternoon because it killed people's brain cells.

"I need to have a talk with you," he said, and motioned for the younger boy to follow him. The crowd of girl tittered and whispered about the new developments interestedly; Yohji had a feeling that there was going to be a lot of inappropriate rumors running around the school come tomorrow morning, if it even took that long. Luckily he really didn't give a shit.

Omi hesitated before getting up, sighing. This went against protocol and such. Aya had specifically told them not to associate with one another–particularly with Omi–overmuch at school. The last thing they needed to do was attract unwanted attention. Too bad it didn't matter whether they talked with one another whether or not they got paid attention to. So Yohji had decided that it wasn't worth it.

Yue made a motion as though he/she was going to follow Omi, and Yohji fixed a pointed glare on him. "Alone," he grated out, pinning her with his most aggressive glare. And considering that Yohji really didn't do glares, it must have been fairly affective, because Yue plopped his/her butt right back down, although he/she did stare at Yohji with wide eyes.

Omi allowed Yohji to pull him to a less populated area. "What's the problem," he whispered, glancing around, looking for anyone who might come. It was mostly just instinct as an assassin, but since Aya had warned them against associating with one another in public more than absolutely necessary, it must have been important...

"It's Yue, Omi. Haven't you noticed something... weird about him?"

Omi looked back at Yohji, frowning. "No. What are you talking about?"

"Look. I don't know how to tell you this, but... I don't think Yue's a guy. It's just not possible. He acts like a girl, he looks like a girl, he–"

Omi cut him short. He was livid. "You called me out of lunch because you think Yue-kun's a girl?" His hiss had a become almost an outraged squeak, and Yohji was astonished. This was most definitely unlike Omi. And he couldn't believe that both Omi and Aya had refused to even give his thoughts a moment for deliberation.

Of course, it made sense from Omi. Yue-kun was his love interest, after all, and teenagers tended to lack reason and be quite emotional. And it wasn't like Omi could help it, either; hormones got the best of everyone at that age. Still, he had to make Omi understand...

"And how would you know, Omi? Have you slept with him? Or even seen him naked?"

Omi just stared at Yohji. He looked vaguely scandalized, and dumbfounded by the idea. It was obvious to Yohji was Omi hadn't seen Yue naked, much less slept with him. Her. It. A red blush spread across the younger man's face, and Yohji knew instinctively that Omi's thoughts must have been leaning towards the risque.

"That's what I thought," Yohji said, putting a hand on Yohji's shoulder. "Look, I'm telling you this because it's important–" Omi shrugged Yohji's hand off his shoulder, and he looked furious.

"I'm going to go sit back down with Yue and Nagi now. I don't know what your problem with Yue-kun is, but you'd better get over it, because he's not going anywhere." Omi turned away and walked back, presumedly to sit back down with his friend and the member of Schwartz.

Yohji laughed, but the sound was humorless. A part of him wondered if maybe Aya and Omi were right, and yet... he was positive that Yue wasn't what he claimed to be.

"Ah, how sad," a mocking, lilted voice said behind him. "You try to give him good advice, and he won't listen? Children these days," Schuldich said with a be grieved, melodramatic sigh.

Yohji glared at the German assassin, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. He didn't greet Mastermind, though; there wasn't a point.

"You're absolutely right–there's no need to waste air on words I've already plucked from your brain. So, to answer why I'm here... I have a small proposition to make with you," he smiled, his lips curving up into a crafty grin. He was like the Cheshire Cat, Yohji realized–he knew exactly what was going on and spoke with riddles.

"I'm not interested," he told him plainly, walking away. If Omi wasn't going to listen to his warnings, then he'd just go take a cigarette break somewhere and make himself a plan. He'd catch Yue if it meant he had to plant cameras in the bathroom. Although, he doubted that Aya would let him live if he did something so outrageous.

"Suite yourself," Schuldich told him nonchalantly. In truth, he was more than a little irritated on the inside. When one door closed, another was supposed to open, people said. All of the doors to his interesting playthings–particularly one blonde bunny–were slowly closing. He'd just have to come up with a way to forcibly make a few more, then.

---

(1) I get these all the time. -- I hate 'em.

(2) I'm NOT trying to make any kind of political statement or offend anyone here. This is merely injected for the purpose of amusement.

(3) .... Seeing that I don't smoke, I don't understand habits concerning this sort of thing. On the one hand, I know my cousin's constantly complaining about the price of cigarettes, and on the other, I think it would be gross to stick it back in your mouth later on. But that's just me.

(4) Hah hah! This is kind of a joke, because at one point in time, I wanted to write a fic with that title... and it was basically going to be this tremendous SM/lots of anime crossed over with an Alice in Wonderland fusion thing going on.... ah, it was going to be beautiful. We talked about it, didn't we, Usa-chan? I still hope to do it some day. But someday may be when I'm an old fart, at the rate I'm going.