Okay. I am going to put this at the beginning of every chapter except the one after chapter two. I would call it chapter three, but I already have one. So the one with the notes on it is the one I won't put this on because… it's a bunch of notes! Don't assume that everything written here happens in every chapter. Because it doesn't Also, as my Algebra II teacher said last year, 'When you assume, you make an ass out of you and me." As she said 'ass', 'you', and 'me', she pointed to the words inside the word 'assume'. Assume. Cool huh? Learn something new everyday! Now, go tell your folks. Then, come back and read. Then R&R.
Arigatou- thank-you (might be spelled arigato, but it's the same thing)
Hai- yes
Hanyou- half demon or half breed ((We call my friend this. She's
half Caucasian and half Mexican. She wanted us to I swear. She calls
herself a hanyou all the time. Sad isn't it)
Houshi- something along the lines of Buddhist monk (Miroku)
Iie- no
Kami- God or the equivalent thereof
Kawaii- cute
Kitsune- fox demon I do believe
Miko- priestess
Oi- something I made up or I heard from somewhere. I use it to get someone's attention
Osuwari- sit
Owari- something like 'Bye!' I think. I really don't know for sure.
Tensuaiga- Sesshomaru's sword
Tetsuaiga- Inuyasha's sword
Youkai- demon
Italicized words means the person is thinking to themselves in their own heads or something needs to be emphasized.
'Words
written in these' means the person is speaking to someone else in their
heads. Confusing I know, but you'll know it when you see it.
"Words written in these" means… Do I really need to explain this one?
I do not know what the future is like. I am purely guessing so no harping, okay? I am also guessing on what Kaede looked like when she was young. I've only seen her when she was young one time and that's right after Kikyou seals Inuyasha to a tree and then died. I'm sorry if I'm wrong. Just try to be nice as you yell at me, okay? Also, just because it says y'all somewhere doesn't mean they are in Texas. I am in Texas and the word y'all is something I say all the time. 'Kay?
I am very sorry if I have misspelled anything in Japanese, like names or the words above. I know 'ou' makes a long o sound. Like Shippo should probably be Shippou since Kikyou and Kouga follow that rule. But, I did Kouga like that from the very beginning and Kikyou became a sudden habit. Everyone else I saw it first as I have spelled it. If I have defined anything wrong, please tell me. It's not considered a flame if I ask for it. I promise. And if I've misspelled anything in English and you catch it let me know. I am a real big spelling and grammar freak. It's… Never mind. Also, my friend helped me write this. So anything wrong or stupid is her fault. wink wink And the cursing. That's all hers too. With that being said…
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When the dismissal bell rang, Immanuel gathered his things and walked outside to meet Matt for his third period. A few seconds later, Sara ran over to them to give Matt a kiss on the cheek before heading to the gyms for third. Instead of a kiss, however, he received another slap for his wandering hand. "Matthew," Sara seethed. "Don't make me send you to the nurse again. My record can't take it. Come on Immanuel!" Sara said, looping her arm through his. "Time to hit the weights my friend. Don't worry about your introductory speech. There's no need for it in gym"
"Hello Sara," Coach Fisher greeted as the pair walked into the gyms. "Will you be joining the guys today for the weight lifting class"
"You know I wouldn't miss it coach," Sara answered with a smile. "This is a new student of yours, Immanuel Bazan. He and his older brother just moved from Santiago, Chile"
"Ah yes. I've met your brother Immanuel," the coach began. Immanuel tensed at the news. "He was saying something about how if you get too emotional that I should send you to run the track or something. Could you clarify that for me? What does he mean by 'emotional"
"I have a chemical unbalance that doesn't allow me the use of too much emotion when I talk. I… I don't get along well with people when I do. It's like I become someone else or something. I don't know how to describe it exactly," Immanuel said. Sara didn't believe him for some reason. Maybe it was because he was still using the monotonous voice he always used. Or maybe it was that he wouldn't look at anyone as he spoke.
"Alrighty then," Coach Fisher said as he clapped his hands in front of him. "Sara, you better go dress out and tell your coach we're in the weight room today. Immanuel, you come with me to get your clothes"
"My clothes? What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Immanuel asked.
"It's school policy that everyone in gym has to dress out. Besides, you sweat in this class. You wouldn't want to smell when you go to fourth now would you?" the coach asked with a smile. "Don't worry about dressing in front of the other boys. It's no big deal. Here," he said as they walked into the office. "I'm going to give you a medium. Just a guess. If it's too big or small, let me know and I'll change it. Go get dressed and meet me where we were at a few minutes ago"
As the coach left, Immanuel turned and looked at all the other boys in the locker room. Their loud talking hurt his ears. He started to walk toward the back of the room when he felt a hand reach out toward him. Dodging it, Immanuel turned to look at the owner of the hand.
"Whoa! That was cool. How did you do that?" the boy asked, amazed Immanuel could dodge him like that.
"I felt it coming," Immanuel answered.
"Uh huh," the boy said slowly. "Well, my name's Nathan Kerr. I run everything around here. You need anything, I'm your man," he said, reaching a hand out. Immanuel didn't like the boy for some reason. Maybe it was his looks. The boy had dark, cold eyes and black hair. His voice was mocking, no matter how nice he tried to sound. "What's your name"
Immanuel didn't move to shake Nathan's hand. He didn't want to. "Immanuel Bazan," he answered dryly.
"Well Immanuel, there happens to be a vacant locker next to mine. Why don't you join me?" As he said this, Nathan reached over and opened the locker for Immanuel to put his stuff in. "Come on. Coach'll get mad if we're late." When Immanuel didn't move to put his clothes in the locker, Nathan stood up to face him. Immanuel was easily stunted by the older boy. "Something wrong"
"I don't dress out," Immanuel answered, trying to stay cool. Something about this guy upset him; made him want to fight him. 'Don't get angry,' he told himself. 'Stay cool and sit on the bench Immanuel.' His body fought his mind though. Instead of sitting, Immanuel dropped his clothes on the bench and took his over shirt off. That's all that came off in front of people.
"Hey! Tell him the policy about jewelry Nathan!" some boy shouted from somewhere behind Immanuel.
"Yeah. No necklaces Im," Nathan said with a grin. He reached for the beads… and found himself on his back on the ground. "What the-!"
"Kerr! What is going on in here?" Coach Arnold called from his office.
"Uh, nothing coach. Must have slipped or something," Nathan answered. As he stood, he whispered to one of his friends, "Where'd the kid go?"
"Dunno," the boy answered with a shrug.
"He's outside already," another answered in the first's place.
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"There you are Immanuel!" Coach Fisher called. "Didn't I give you some clothes to change into?" he asked, not wanting Immanuel to get off on the wrong foot.
"Some guys were, uh, giving me a hard time"
"Who? Who was it Immanuel?" the coach asked, very concerned.
"Don't worry about it. I'm gonna blow off some steam. You got a punching bag?" the boy asked.
"Over there by Sara. Stay close to her Immanuel. She's a good friend to have around here," the man advised. "Oh, and there's policy about-"
"I know," Immanuel said, cutting him off.
"He has to wear it," Sam said. Coach Fisher turned to see Immanuel's older brother standing behind him. "He cannot take it off. It helps keep his emotions under control." The coach looked at Immanuel. His head was bent and his gaze was on his feet. "Go on." Immanuel turned and walked over to Sara. "Is there any way to get around that little rule?"
"I think if you went to the school nurse and explained everything, he should be fine." Coach Fisher paused to look at Immanuel. He watched the boy turn his back to his new friend, take a deep breath, close his eyes, and disappear. Coach Fisher blinked and watched as the bag started moving almost on it's own. Little glimpses of Immanuel could be seen and he ran from spot to spot around the bag, punching it. It was so quick Coach Fisher didn't even realize he'd punched the bag until it moved.
As quickly as it started moving, it stopped again. Immanuel was now back to where he started a few seconds ago. Suddenly, the coach realized that Sam was still talking beside him. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't hear anything you've just said to me. Your brother is amazingly fast."
"Yes, well," Sam said, annoyed. "If Immanuel gets upset, as in angry, send him outside to the track. Go with him, but stay back. He's only hurt one person before, and we'd like to keep it that way. If he starts acting weird - you'll know it if it happens - send Sara Abell to find Karen Bassi quickly. Do you know Karen? Good," he said when the man before him nodded his head. "Tell her to say it. She'll understand. Only she can do it. We've never had this problem, but if he gets too happy or excited about something, isolate him. Always isolate him, but when he's excited like that keep him still and quiet instead of sending him to run track or train on the machines. I have a sixth sense when it comes to my brother," Sam explained in the same monotonous voice Immanuel used.
He watched as five boys walked out of the dressing rooms in their gym uniforms and over to Immanuel and Sara. They moved around Immanuel as if to block him off from Sara. "How'd you do that?" Nathan asked. "I'm the fastest boy in school. How could you do something like that"
"I train," Immanuel answered, moving so he was next to Sara again but training on another machine.
"Bet your daddy trains with you, telling you what to do," one boy teased. "And your mom brings water to you. I bet you live in some mansion and you have a whole floor dedicated to your fitness crap"
Immanuel's eyes grew dark at that boy's teasing. Releasing the handlebars on the machine, Immanuel turned to the group and replied in an icy tone, "My parents are dead. I live with my brother. He's trained me every day since I was five. That's thirteen years."
"Immanuel," Sam said. There was no need to raise his voice. He had heard every word that had been spoken between the boys. "Come here." Immanuel suddenly stood in front of him, his gaze on his feet. The coach, the boys, and Sara all stared in shock. "I want twenty normal laps around the gym. Now." Everyone watched as the boy began to sprint around the gym, weaving in and out of people. "You," Sam said as he walked over to Nathan and his friends. "Do not talk to my brother. Ever."
"So you train the freak?" Nathan responded. "What'd he do? Get mad and kill his parents? We hear what happens if he gets mad. Who's the one person he hurt? Huh?"
"Not that it's any of your damn business, but it was me."
The boys all stared in disbelief. "Then why does he listen to you now?"
"I-"
"Sam!" Immanuel called. He'd done four of his twenty laps already. "That's enough. We're not back home. These people don't know who you are and they never will so just go. I'll be fine. You go home. Please." The last word was spoken quickly, as if he'd just remembered who he was talking to.
"Finish your laps Immanuel," Sam said, turning back to the coach. "Keep them away from my brother. They get to him. Do not make me come back up here," he called to Immanuel who was across the gym, running again. For the second time that day, he turned and stalked to the nearest exit. Mere moments later, Immanuel was training beside Sara again. The coach had Nathan and his friends training across the gym for the track meet that was coming up in three days.
"Congratulations," Sara mumbled sarcastically. "You just became best friends with the strongest, fastest guy in school. He runs everything, you know that?"
"So I've heard," Immanuel answered, putting the weight limit on two hundred pounds. "And he's not so fast."
"Whaddya mean?" she asked, tuning the speed up on the treadmill.
"I knocked him down in the locker room when he tried to take my beads. And I just ran twenty laps in less than five minutes, even though I stopped to talk to my brother." He lifted the weights while he talked as if they didn't weight anything. He paused, setting the new weight on three hundred.
"Not too much," Sara advised.
"Hey Immanuel!" Coach Fisher called.
Immanuel lifted his head to look at his coach, but never stopped lifting the weights. "Yes Coach Fisher?" he asked when the coach didn't say anything else.
"What are you lifting?" the coach asked, shocked.
"Weights."
"I mean, what is the weight set on?"
"Three hundred," Immanuel answered. "But it's still too light."
The coach just stared. Three hundred! he asked himself. How could such a scrawny kid lift three hundred pounds so easily? It must be a trick. No one lifts our max weight with one hand around here. No one's ever beat the record of 275, and Nathan set that last week! Suddenly, Coach Fisher turned and jogged to the other end of the gym and came back dragging Coach Arnold with him. "Ask him yourself Jack. Immanuel, this is Coach Arnold."
"Hello Coach Arnold," Immanuel said, only stopping his training to switch hands.
"How much are you lifting boy?" the black man asked.
Immanuel openly bristled. 'Boy' is what Sam usually called him. "It's three hundred pounds sir," he answered, wondering what the big deal was.
"Kerr!" Coach Arnold shouted, calling the boy over.
"We shouldn't put them together Jack," Coach Fisher warned.
"It's only for a second," Coach Arnold whispered back as Nathan ran up.
"Yes coach?" he asked, glaring at Immanuel.
"Get up Bazan," Coach Arnold said. Immanuel set the weights down and got up while the coach took the pin out of the weights and handed it to Nathan. "Set it up Kerr and lift your limit." Nathan smiled, thinking he was going to teach Immanuel something about training 'correctly' or something. The rest of the class gathered around. Nathan lifting weights was always a sight to see. And once they noticed Immanuel was there before Coach Arnold called Nathan over, they knew there was to be a 'battle'.
Nathan leaned over and stuck the pin in the 275 weight slot and sat on the little bench, put both hands on the string used to pull the weights, and pulled the weights. They were heavy, yes, but not too heavy. It wasn't like Nathan was using all of his energy. It was apparent that he was trying however, because soon beads of sweat popped up on his forehead as he lifted, set them down, and repeated the process a few times. "That good coach?" he asked as he set them down again.
"Yeah," Coach Fisher answered. "You try it Immanuel." Nathan got up and stood beside the weight set, wanting to see what the new kid put his limit on. When Immanuel reached over, took the pin out, and put it in the last hole, the three hundred slot, Nathan's jaw dropped.
"He can't do that!" he said. "He'll kill himself! And he's only using one hand!" he exclaimed, more to himself than to the coaches now.
"Shut up and watch Kerr," Coach Arnold told the boy. Everyone watched in complete shock as Immanuel lifted three hundred pounds with one hand several times. No sweat popped out on his forehead, and he wasn't breathing hard. "Stop Bazan," the coach ordered. Immanuel let the weights rest on the bottom of the machine and stood on the other side of it. "How did you do that?"
"I simply lifted the weights sir. I do it all the time, but I use more. Three hundred pounds was hard for me when I was twelve sir," Immanuel answered, looking only at his coach and Sara every few seconds. The warning bell for the gym classes rang, telling everyone they had ten minutes until the dismissal bell rang.
"Everyone get dressed. Abell, Bazan: come with me," Coach Arnold said as he walked toward his outside office since Sara wasn't allowed in the boys' locker room. As they walked in, he said they could sit. Sara did, but Immanuel didn't. He stood straight, looking at something on the wall directly in front of him. "Calm down kid, I ain't your brother," the coach said. Immanuel looked at the coach, startled. "Anyone can see he treats you like a military brat. Sit down, or I'll order you to."
Immanuel did and looked at Sara nervously. "Is something wrong sir?"
"Yeah. You calling me sir isn't going to work. My name is Coach Arnold. You can call me that or coach. Not sir. Keep that for your brother. What's his deal anyways?"
"I… My emotions are unstable and that's why he was here earlier. One time I… he made me real mad when I was about five years old. I attacked him and I beat him. He was the only person I've ever hurt. That's why his left arm is like it is," he answered softly, looking at his lap.
"Okay, so why was he here?" Coach Arnold asked.
"When Immanuel shows emotions, Sam shows up. He told Fisher that he had a sixth sense about his brother and that if Immanuel were to get mad to send him to run track or something," Sara answered.
"I see. You two go get dressed and get ready for your next class. You know where you're going Bazan?" Coach Arnold asked.
"Yes s- yes coach," Immanuel answered. "I have Spanish six with Kimberly Anderson. Sara was going to show me where it was."
"Watch out for her Bazan," the coach warned as they stood to leave. "She may act nice in the beginning, but she's a snake in the grass. Stick with Sara. She's a good girl."
"What did he mean by that?" Immanuel asked as they walked out of the office.
"You'll see next period. See you in a few minutes," Sara called as she ran toward the girl's locker rooms. Immanuel was waiting for her when she returned.
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A/N: This new FanFiction set-up isn't acknowledging my punctuation at the end of my sentences or setting my paragraphs apart so I have to do it all by hand. Sorry if there're any mistakes. sighs We only have one phone line so I can't stay on-line for too long or my grandmother freaks. sighs again Maybe, for my birthday, she'll walk into the 21st century and get another phone line. Yeah, right... Oh! And imaginary cookies and cakes and pies and whatever else you want (imaginary) for anyone who can figure out what my separator really means. This - ..l.. laughs evilly darkpyroangel06