Tohru
The aisle seems endless to me as I slowly make my way towards me desk. I can feel many pairs of eyes on me, but I am too scared to look up at anyone. I remember what my first day of kindergarten had been like, how frightening it had been. Somehow this feels much, much worse.
This morning before I arrived here at Kaibara high I tried to think back to all my good memories of WB Prep, all the great things I would be leaving behind. But nothing came. I had no close friends to miss, no wonderful classes to learn from. It is very boring, dry, monotone school where everyone acts as if they owned the world. That place is not for me. So I pleaded with my father to let me switch schools, and to make me shut up he consented. I wanted to go to a public school. I wanted to start over, meet new people in a different atmosphere. I was tired of being surrounded by aristocrats, and wanted to be around normal teenagers. In spite of who my father is, I cannot think of myself as anything but ordinary.
Now I am mentally kicking myself for it. Why couldn't I have kept my mouth shut? I would give anything to go back and be the same old nobody back at the Prep than be this stranger to be gawked at. I live my life in the public eye because mother is the famous woman, richest of all, yet this silent judgement from my own peers is entirely new to me. I was ordinary back at WB Prep. Nobody cared a great deal about who my father was, and I was forced to fade into the background where nobody would stare at me as if I was a circus creature. But these strangers are waiting for me to trip and fall. They are waiting for me to stumble and miss my seat. I clutch my books tightly for fear of making a mistake.
And then I feel something new. A certain set of eyes that are so intense on me that I cannot help but look up to meet them. I am suddenly lost in the depths of the most beautiful amethyst purple eyes I've ever seen. They are infinite and passionate, but dark and mysterious.
The young man they belong to is no less breathtaking. His unruly flaxen hair is brilliant in the sunlight, and his skin is bronze and pulled over taut athletic muscles. His sudden grin is recklessly charming. I am certain many girls have had their hearts melted by that same flash of pearly white teeth. His clothes are dingy third-class material, but surprisingly attractive on him. His faded blue jeans are full of rips and holes at the knees and hems, with several chains dangling at the pockets. He is wearing a tight black muscle shirt and a blue denim vest that looks as if it has lived many years past its prime. His runners were once obviously white, but are now grimy and grey with dirty tattered laces. I sense an undertone of wildness in him, and I feel a thrilled rush inside. This boy is dangerous, but so beautiful, so effortlessly seductive.
I swallow and offer him a quick tentative smile of my own, but I cannot bear the force of his gaze anymore. I look away and keep my eyes away from him, trying to focus on Professor Maechan's lesson.
It is so hard for me to fight the temptation to throw him one quick glance, but somehow I manage to do so.
"Well, now that our latest addition has had her seat, let us continue," Professor Maechan says, beaming at me over his spectacles. "So, who among you can tell me what the first form of currency in Japan was? Master Sohma?"
I look around to see who the teacher is addressing, and I notice that everyone has their eyes fixed on the blonde-haired boy that had been staring at me when I walked in. He is not paying any attention, and seems to be distracting himself by carving something on his desk with an unwound paper clip. I cannot help but smile at the look of deep concentration on his face.
"Yuki!" Maechan barks, rapping his brittle knuckles on the wood of his desk. Yuki jumps with surprise and drops the paper clip. To hide his startled reaction, he quickly gives Professor Maechan a charming grin.
"Yes, Professor?" he asks sweetly. Maechan narrows his squinty eyes.
"Can you kindly tell me what the first form ofJapan currency was?" he demanded. I could see the wheels turning in Yuki's head, and I waited for his reply along with everyone else.
"Chicks?" Yuki suggested indifferently. A few snickers rose up, but Yuki silenced them with a mere glance. Maechan sighed and shook his head.
"I am afraid that is incorrect, Master Sohma, it was actually the trade of primary goods. I must ask you to pay close attention to my lessons from now on, understood?" he asked sternly.
Before I can stop myself, I raise my hand in the air. Maechan's expression changes drastically from a look of discipline to a cheery smile.
"Yes, Miss Honda?" he asks me jovially. I glance quickly in Tidus' direction, noticing that he along with everyone else is staring intently at me.
"Actually, professor, Ti- er, Master Lorac is quite correct to a certain degree. While the main financial system was the trade of primary goods, in many areas the ancient cultures did in fact use women chiefly for barter. They did not adopt the modern trade system until the Chinese missionaries gained control in those regions several hundred years later." I speak quickly, for I am uncomfortable under so many eyes as I contradict the teacher, who stares at me obviously flustered. I feel Yuki's gaze piercingly, but I resist the urge to look back.
The class drags on much slower than I ever imagined it could. As soon as the bell rings I jump up from my seat, books in my arms, and hurry out of the classroom. I pause long enough to smile at Professor Maechan's friendly comment,
"Again, so lovely to have you with us, Miss Honda! A true honour!"
The rest of my day is uneventful, and I spend most of the break searching vainly for my locker. My back is sore from carrying my stuffed backpack to every class, but I am too late. The bell rings and I am forced to tote it around with me again.
When my science class ends, I am praying that my last class will be more interesting, so that my day will have mounted to at least something good.
The lunch hour arrives, and I am left with no place to sit to eat the huge meal that my mother's maid Belgemine packed for me. I sigh and make my way outside to the parking lot, heading for my car. I figure it is just as well that I am not hungry. I rarely ever eat all of Belgemine's lunches anyway. She always packs so much that I am fit to burst half way through.
Perhaps a drive will relax me. I must admit that I love driving my Porsche, and even though I don't know much about cars, but I am sinfully proud of it. It was a birthday present from last year, another of my mother's attempts to distract me with shiny gifts so that I do not bother her for attention later. Thus far it has worked, because now I drive it almost whenever I can and I rarely even speak to her.
When I reach the parking lot, I stop dead in my tracks. There is a group of people clustered around my beautiful silver car, touching it and peering through the windows. I feel a wave of indignant apprehension rise up in me, but I stride forward with clenched fists anyway. Perhaps they mean no harm. Perhaps they are just curious.
"Excuse me," I say quietly, coming up behind them. I rue the squeaky noise my voice resembles. They whirl around to face me, and the one closest to me looks strikingly familiar.
I inhale sharply as I find myself gazing back into those hauntingpurple eyes from this morning. It's Yuki all right. I recognize the purple hair and tanned flesh, even though his originally laid-back expression is now annoyed. But he then seems to realize who I am, because his irritated look is replaced by a look of cool confidence.
"I'm sorry to disturb you," I continue, trying to tear my eyes from his, "but I'm taking my car for a drive." I am aware that the others are closing in behind me in a semicircle. I feel the hardness of their eyes on my back.
Yuki stares at me for a moment.
"This is your Porsche?" he asks, somewhat sceptically. I nod, momentarily distracted by the sound of his voice. It is smug and self-assured, but calm and full of expected authority.
"Well then, beautiful, you won't mind if we take it for a spin later, do you?" I hear a different voice say. I turn to my left and see another young man with pale spikywhite hair. His grin is mischievous and taunting. I swallow slightly. I know now that this is a group of people that live to cause trouble, and anything I say can somehow be twisted into the wrong meaning.
Still, I know better than to show fear to the likes of him. I stand up straighter and lift my chin up stubbornly. After all, I am the daughter of the famous clebrity ever to walk Kaibara high. I must not be bullied by such people.
"I'm afraid not," I reply coolly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the purple-eyed boy Yuki cross his arms, still staring at me. I remember briefly the smile he gave me in the morning.
"Aw, don't be like that! I'm sure you can share, ya?" I look to my right and see a black haired man sneering at me, his voice full of mocking amusement. I turn and glare atYuki almost accusingly, as if angry at him for not helping me stand up to these thugs.
"I will ask you this once: Please step out of my way," I say in a low tone. I am slightly pleased to hear that my voice has taken on a new sound, one that is stronger and more in control. I can see the effect of it in their expressions. They obviously aren't expecting some spoiled millionaire princess to be so tough. Although, I really have no idea how I am to stand up to all six of them at the same time.
"You might want to fix that little attitude, Princess," one of the guys says to me, a short blonde with sparklingbrown eyes that are narrowed threateningly.
I am vastly aware that this situation is going from bad to worse. If I don't do or say something to save myself quickly, I may end up getting pounded into the ground. Or worse yet, have my Porsche stolen . . .
"Look, I don't want trouble," I say with a sigh, holding my hands up. "I just want to go for a drive."
"Sorry, babe, but it looks like you've found trouble," the white haired boy says with a devious chuckle, gesturing towards the blonde kid.
"What you think, Boss? In the mood for a good chick fight?" the black hairedman asksYuki humorously, elbowing him in the side. I frown slightly. Boss?
He regards me silently, a faintly superior smile on his lips. I swallow and force myself to stare back levelly. Then, he shrugs carelessly.
"I say let them handle it their own way. I think this one's tougher than she looks," he says, giving me a grim half smile. I cannot help but feel a faint blush on my cheeks, modestly pleased at his gruff compliment.
"Well, well! If it isn't Momiji Sohma," a snide voice says from behind. All of us turn around and I see that we are being approached by more people. Only these people are different from my current 'companions'. They are dressed properly and have their hair nicely groomed, with fashionable shoes and pockets bulging with extra cash. My kind of people, you might say, except at the moment I don't particularly trust the apparent leader's expression.
She is a tall specimen, sporting strange but stylishbrown hair and icybrown eyes that lack any spark or gleam of spirit. She is looking at the blonde kid with a haughty expression, and behind her her cronies and female groupies stand to watch eagerly. I can feel in my gut that something bad is about to happen.
"What do you want, Motoko?" the girl Rikku snaps, her fists tightening. Motoko looks her up and down arrogantly for a moment.
"Sohma . . . say, isn't that Yuki's name ONLY?" she says, feigning curiosity, throwing her posse a quick glance over her broad shoulder. "That's odd. I do believe there's a law that says theblondes are not to be out in public without a leash."
Her friends snicker appreciatively, and I can see the blonde kid's face turn red with angry shame. I feel a stab of outrage at the comment, wondering how anyone could be so thoughtless and narrow-minded.
"Fuck off, Motoko," the white haired boy snarls, brushing me aside to come and stand next to Momiji. "You don't want to start anything with us."
"Get lost while you still can," a orange haired girl says in a low tone, her brown eyes shooting daggers at Motoko.
I stand there in the middle, torn between two worlds about to clash. I know that I have to make a decision. Either pick a side, or run. Slowly I shift my gaze back to Yuki, trying and read his expression. He is staring at Motoko with his jaw muscles tightening, but his stance is relaxed. Suddenly he senses my stare and looks at me, his piercing eyes searching. I can feel him boring into my very being. And then, immediately, my mind is made up. Once again I must rely on my vast historical knowledge to calm down the situation.
"Pardon me," I say, turning back to face Motoko and crossing my arms over my chest, "But Sohma is not actually for Yuki only. It is a Japanese native name meaning 'Curse'." She blinks at me, taken aback. "Quite a simple mistake, but really one you want to watch out for in the future."
My hands are trembling as I speak, and I clasp them behind my back to keep them from showing. I am not exactly being truthful, but I keep a straight face and calm voice.
Motoko then frowns suspiciously.
"Aren't you Honda's daughter?" she demands suddenly. I raise an eyebrow, feeling my confidence growing. Behind me I can sense several shocked pairs of eyes on me, but I do not dare to turn around.
"Not that it has anything to do with what we are discussing, but yes, I am his daughter," I reply coolly.
"Then, may I ask why you of all people are associating with these half- regurgitated mongrels?" Motoko asks, giving the thugs a cruel sneer. The black haired man takes a step forward, but the boy dressed in a jacket with red eyes grabs him by the arm and hauls him back forcefully.
"That is none of your concern. Good day, Motoko," I say swiftly, and then pointedly turn my back on her. I find myself staring back at Yuki, who has been directly behind me the whole time. He gives me a discreet wink and I smile back, feeling the roots of kinship forming between us already.
Behind me, I hearMotoko mutter something darkly to his clique, and then they walk away, leaving me alone with Yuki and his friends. The minute Motoko is out of sight, Yuki bursts out laughing.
"That was so tight!" he exclaims. "Did you see the look on her face? Man, you really know your history shit, don't you?"
I feel a large hand clap my shoulder before I can respond, and I look up to see the black haired man beaming down at me.
"I gotta say, that was some smooth move, girl," he says approvingly.
The others close in around, congratulating me. I cannot help but smile at each of them in turn. Any bad feelings that had started to grow between us had evaporated immediately. Momiji slipshis arm around my waist.
"I owe you one. You did some pretty swift thinking, Princess," he tells me with grudging admiration.
"It was nothing. That Motoko gal has no right to be so . . . so . . ." I trail off, searching for a word to use that could describe Motoko's unsavoury character.
"Full of shit?" the white haired boy suggests. I laugh and nod.
"Sounds about right," I agree, and he offers me a grin. Suddenly, I see Yuki step forward, looking directly at me. He holds out his hand to me formally.
"Yuki," he says, and again I see the flash of his teeth. I shake his hand, admiring its warmth.
"Tohru," I reply, returning his smile.
Then, one by one, Yuki goes from person to person, introducing me to them. They are Momiji, Haru, Shigure, Kyo, Kisa, Hiro & Kagura. Then, quite suddenly, it occurs to me that they are a gang. It is not that they wear signature bandanas or have shiny motorcycles, but it is abruptly quite obvious that Yuki seems to be in charge, judging from the fact that they call him 'Boss' and he appears to be the one with all the confidence. The others look to him for direction, and from their third-class clothing and the mannerisms with which they spoke, I guess that they come from a world where they are only safe in numbers. A world where you are nothing without a gang for protection. I feel my heartbeat increase, and not just because of Yuki's winning smile or crystalline blue eyes gazing at me. I know that if I am caught speaking to them or being near them, my mother could possibly find out and forbid me from associating with them. The thought worries me. I am starting to rather like them, and I do not want to shun them simply because of their class.
"Feel like cutting the last period with us and heading down to 8-Ball's?"Yuki asks me, after the introductions are done.
I know the name of that place. It is a pool house that is open to anyone above the age of fifteen. It is a rough, sleazy place full of crime and illegal drinking. It makes me nervous to imagine myself there, but I feel torn. On one hand, I want to go and 'hang out' with the first real acquaintances I've made in a long time, but on the other hand I am reluctant to skip the rest of my first day in a new school and go to such a low-reputed place where God knows what goes on. Besides, my last class, English, is my favourite subject.
I open and close my mouth a few times, unsure of what to do or say. I know they are testing me for a response, judging me. Seeming to sense my hesitation, Yuki offers me another knee-weakening smile. I am compelled to say yes. I want to say yes. I am going to say yes.
"Definitely," I state casually, trying not to sound too excited. The others look satisfied with this answer. I know that I have passed whatever test they have given me, and I feel a surge of adrenaline. I, Tohru Honda, daughter of the famous celebrity, am skipping school to go to a seedy bar to hang out with a rough gang.
Perhaps this school year is going to be much different from my last.
