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~CWA


CHAPTER THREE: FIRST DAY


THIRD PERSON

New students are not very common at Ouran High School Academy – they're almost unheard of. Of course, they get new people at the beginning of the year, but just before the end of the first semester? It is odd and uncommon. A majority of wealthy families are not so careless to cut out that education from their children's lives, not when their businesses and family legacies depended so heavily on the lessons and connections made within the school. Yet on this day three new students, American transfers no less, are entering the school grounds. Kato Skrapi. Moriko Tenshi. Reve Effori. Three transfers of different ethnicity (according to their records – Spanish, French, and one part-Japanese, part-Caucasian) that are connected together in a way that Kyoya Ootori simply finds odd.

It doesn't sit right with him. Foreign transfers are hardly ever accepted, especially at this point of the year instead of the beginning of the next semester. He's checked their records, everything seems to be right and in place. But there's a feeling in his gut that says it's not. Small holes in the records make that feeling have a bit more substance to it. It's too coincidental to be truthful – all three having previous relations with each other all moving to Japan and being accepted to Ouran, legally emancipated or not. They're all around the same ages of him and the hosts. Reve Effori being his and Tamaki Souh's age, joining them in their year and class. Moriko Tenshi being a first year, is in Haruhi's class. Kato Skrapi is a third year, likely to be in Takashi and Hunny's class. This will undoubtedly work for him in the end – it allows him a better chance to keep an eye on them.

He can't help but look out the window of the music room, glancing at the three girls as they walk onto the campus. They stick out like sore thumbs among the see of yellow dresses. Despite having the means of affording the school, they do not wear the uniform, rather they wear commoner clothing of all things. Things that look as if they came off the thrift shelf of an older, already cheap store. He clicks his tongue.

The tallest, Reve Effori, is the most professionally dressed – long slacks that highlight her height with a dark blazer - a fact he appreciates and is mildly impressed by. Her already tall height doesn't stop her from adorning three inch heels that make her stand like a tower. She seems intelligent and merely looking at her gives him a vague sense as if he's already lost some sort of fight. He hates that feeling. He will need to keep a very close eye on her. She'd be the one to catch onto his game, if she's as smart as she looks. Her back is turned to him as she converses with the shortest of the group, from her posture he can only guess that she's scolding the other girl for something.

Moriko Tenshi looks as if she belongs out in the garden rather than in the school with the flowing, comfortable green clothes she wears. Her smile is as bright as her eyes. He squints and he can see the color too clearly in her irises even from his distance. He can only imagine just how brightly vivid green her eyes would be at a much closer proximity. Contacts, he muses, and he scoffs that they are willing to spend such money for contacts of that quality yet become shrewd when it comes to the price of the uniforms.

The shortest, Kato Skrapi, seems to be the least happy of the group. She has a more exotic appearance, one that he doesn't see very often in Japan, with her hair swept over one of her eyes. But she isn't a delicate flower. There's something about her that gives off a dangerous vibe. As if she's not someone you want to make angry or begin a fight with. Her eyes, or rather the one that isn't hidden behind hair, catch his his, briefly, and like Moriko, her eyes shine with an unnatural hue. A startling yellow, reminding him of a cat's eye that shines in the darkness. There's an almost primal instinct deep in him that tells him to back off from her, to gain as much distance as he can between them. He stands his ground for a brief second before he has to look away from her.

If this all just ends up being his paranoia, he'll drop it. His interest in them will fade and having no connections among any wealthy families or businesses, they'll be of no benefit and he won't have to reply on the others are roping the girls into coming into Music Room Three. But there really is something there, anything, he'll figure it out.

He always does – Reve looks his way at that moment. Her eyes swirl with pinks and purples resembling an intricate painting rather than irises. She holds his gaze evenly, narrowing her eyes as if she knows exactly what he was thinking. His own eyes narrow in return as he pushes up his glasses, but brushing off most of his suspicion and content with his observations, he turns away and heads to class.

000000000000000000000000000

They are all aware of someone watching them – Moriko knows from hearing it over the mental link, Reve could feel eyes on them, but it's Kato who makes eye contact with the man first. She can see him through the shadows of one of the windows, watching them as if they are a spectacle for observation. She glares at him, her lip twitches before she remembers that snarling at people is one of the things that Reve told her not to do. She settles for sneering. She's insulted when he holds her gaze, even briefly, as if he thinks himself to be higher than her. She grumbles and turns his back to him.

Reve, Kato thinks over the link, Someone's watching us. Her eyes flicker to the window and Reve follows her gaze.

I know, Reve's voice is darker and more serious, as she turns her attention to the observer.

His thought about them didn't go unnoticed by her and the idea that anyone, especially on their first day, has doubts about them doesn't settle well with her. She worked too hard to secure this for it to be blown apart by some paranoid human. There's an uneasy feeling in her gut. If he finds out about them, or if they give him a reason to become more suspicious of them, then the situation could easily turn dangerous. All it would take is him talking on the phone and mentioning them before someone in the Facility would show up, or perhaps even some Japanese branch of the organization, to cart them away in specialized cages. They're bound to be listening for any signs of us, channeling in on every phone conversation, every internet forum, every video, Reve thinks, turning away from the window when the mystery man turns and leaves, things like us don't escape very often from The Facility.

Her eyes narrow and there's a glow that flashes across her irises as she sends thoughts his way. Suggestively inserting thoughts and feelings in his mind, not enough that he would question his change in mood later, but enough that he'll brush off most of his doubts of them and walk away from the window. Enough that, hopefully, he will leave them alone for a while. Enough to buy her time to figure out what to do should things turn south.

"Do you think we should have bought the uniform," Moriko muses out loud in an effort to ease the tension that's fallen over.

Kato quirks an eyebrow and turns to Reve in question, her arms crossed against her chest, curious about the answer. Reve sighs and can already feel a headache coming on, briefly wondering if perhaps she should have just signed them up for online schooling before remembering that the whole point of emerging themselves in the crowded building for hours upon hours a day is to get used to people and actually learn to blend into society.

"Uniforms are an unnecessary waste of what fiances we do have. We have more money than most thanks to my friend in Paris. But I would rather not abuse his generosity."

Moriko, content with the answers, hums a bit to herself and continues on her way. Kato huffs and begrudgingly continues on, following right on Moriko's heels. Like a cat on a leash, Reve notes with amusement before following behind them, wondering how the cat would react when she finds out that all three of them are in different classes.


Kato hates this. She hates it with a burning passion deep within in her chest. She hates being in such a large, enclosed building with so many people at once. She hates that she sticks out so harshly against a sea of yellow and blue. She hates that, as her and the others finally get their schedule from the principal, she is put ahead of both Reve and Moriko. Which means she's going through this blind and on her own. Most of all, she hates that Reve knew this beforehand and neglected to tell her. The string of curses, both in her native tongue and otherwise, that she shouts in her mind go ignored by both Moriko and Reve – after an hour of it, they gave up trying to calm the cat.

She stares at her schedule, glaring at it with a burning hatred. She only understands a few words here and there – the image of the map does little to help her. She speaks Japanese, if heavily accented, but reading it is another story. She planned on being in the same class as Moriko so that the fae could help translate. With them both trying to focus on two separate classes and assignments, that left little time for translating both. But even as the bell signaling for students to hurry to class rings, Kato makes no effort to move. She briefly thinks about ditching before shaking her head and focusing more intently on the map. Reve would scold her harshly for ditching on their first day and after the morning they had, she doesn't wish to anger the Dream Weaver any farther.

A small weight bumps into her, causing her to tense, a growl burning in her throat as she turns with a glare, ready to tear into any threat. She's met with a small boy who had run into her with enough force to fall flat on his butt. She swallows the growl, but the distaste and anger is still clear in her face. She snorts at the intense, almost overwhelming smell of sweets and sugar and artificial flavoring that hits her nose. He looks at her with wide, curious eyes, but there's something else there that she doesn't like. There's the look of a warrior shining deep in his irises despite the fact that he looks as though he's close to tears.

But then her attention is drawn to a much larger, much clearer threat that stands between her and what she can only assume is a small human child that got lost. His smell is more pleasant than the other's. It's more husky, more masculine, stirring a strange sensation in her chest – she hates that some part of her likes that smell. He towers over her, though it isn't something that's very hard to accomplish. She doesn't stand down, meeting his gaze straight on, daring him to try something as she tries her hardest to ignore his smell. Her fists tighten and sharp nails dig into her palm, threatening to turn into claws. There's a caution in his eyes and in his stance, as if he knows she's some sort of threat but is trying to deny it. She doesn't deserve that benefit of doubt. Not with the things she has done. She swallows thickly at that reminder, straightening her shoulders to stand as tall as she can.

"It's okay Takashi," the small one stands up, blinking away tears, "I'm the one that ran into her. It's my fault."

Her eyes flicker to the boy on the ground, seeing him sniffle as he stands up, smiling brightly as if he never cried. She falters at the dramatic, quick change of attitude. She shakes her head and focuses back on the larger one – he's the biggest threat. He doesn't trust her. He doesn't like her. She can see it in his eyes. Her fingers twitch. She could show him that he has every right to believe her to be a threat. It's a deep itch inside of her chest. She could take him down easily. Human strength is nothing compared to that of her species – whether she be in this human form or not.

But Reve's warning of trying to act human comes to mind and she bites the inside of her cheek. Her nails dig into her palm with more pressure for a brief moment before she forces her fists to relax. The nails' sharp points tone down enough to pass as human nails. Can't fight on the first day. Reve would not be happy. It doesn't stop the way her leg twitches, ready to burst into a run at a moment's notice nor does it to do anything to stop the rapid beat of her heart. But it's enough for her to keep her mouth shut.

"I'm sorry I ran into you," the small one bows at her before looking up at her with a big, welcoming grin, "I'm Haninozuka Mitsukuni. But you can call me Hunny! And this is Morinozuka Takashi! Everyone calls him Mori!"

She's blinded by his grin and blinks, the scent of flowers and sugar becoming more apparent and she wonders if that smell is just from his personality alone. She shuffles on her feet, rolling her shoulders, avoiding looking them in the eyes as she ducks her head down. Human, human, human – think human, think human. She desperately wishes that Moriko had given her better lessons on Japanese manners and introductions, or just human manners in general. She doesn't know what the proper response to this is. A Katojns, her kind, would bump heads or wrestle or something. She bites her lips, almost drawing blood from the sharp tips of her canines. 'In Japan, they say their last name first, then their first name,' Moriko had told her, 'remember to always use -san or -chan if it's a friend. It shows respect.' Names are power, but she fails to see how adding onto a name you are given at birth is a sign of respect. She remembers her mother told her how that's usually reserved to only the most respected and powerful – such as the chief, the leader, or the gods.

But humans? Humans have done nothing to earn her respect. They have done nothing but destroy her home, her people, her species. They bring nothing but pain. Pain and torture and sorrow. There's a sharp pain in her chest and her jaw clenches. I can't act human, a small growl slips through her lips, I am not human. I do not want to be human. She lifts her gaze, glaring at them for a full few seconds before she stalks past them, turning a cold shoulder.

Both Hunny and Takashi are shocked when they're met with golden irises that burn with an intense inner fury. It goes beyond just being mad at them personally. It's a deep, burning inward anger that they've only seen in very few individuals. From what they have known and seen, anger like that only comes from hurt individuals. People whose anger mask that hurt. Eyes that have an underlying gleam of sorrow. The breeze of her brisk walk makes her hair flutter just briefly enough for them to catch a small glimpse of a scar on her face – too brief for them to know the extent of said scar, but enough for their eyebrows to furrow in brief confusion and curiosity.

"Do you think she's okay," Hunny asks softly, watching the strange girl as she weaves her way through the crowd.

Takashi hums in reply – he doesn't know. He wish he did, if anything to calm any worries that his cousin may have. But, like Hunny, he too watches the girl gracefully dodge every person that comes her way as she stalks through the hall. She doesn't make a single noise. Her movements are too smooth – though he does note that she favors a particular side of her body over the other. Maybe she isn't okay. Maybe she is hurt. Maybe she's just an angry person and they were looking too much into it. But there's one thing that he is sure of. Whomever she is, she walks like a fighter. A potentially dangerous one at that.


Moriko peeks her head into what's supposed to be her classroom, seeing that it's mostly empty she wanders in and takes a seat. She breathes a sigh of relief at having got to her class early enough that she doesn't have to worry about not finding a seat. She scans the classroom from her new spot, taking in all the notes on the blackboard and the small educational decorations and posters that line the room. She can vaguely remember, when she was much much younger, being in public school – the memories of that time are a bit a blurred. But for a majority of her life, and what she remembers more clearly, her parents taught her. It was more convenient for them to home school her, in both the ways of the fae and small parts of more human-school-based education.

'Reve, Moriko – I need help,' Kato's plea comes out more begrudgingly than urgent through the mental link.

'Already?' Reve muses, 'Surely you could go one day without needing help?'

'Well it's not exactly my fault you forgot that I only speak Japanese! This map is useless to me!'

Moriko sighs, resting her head on her desk. If they keep this up, they'll both be spending the day arguing over the mental link than focusing on class. She can already feel the pounding against her temple. She takes a deep breath and glances around the room to see a majority of students have taken their seats. The teacher stands at the front of the class. The final bell signaling the beginning of class rings and she winces.

'Sorry Kato – I can't listen to you and the teacher. I have to focus,' Moriko's sympathy shines through her thoughts clearly, but it doesn't stop the whine of Kato's reply before the mental link is sharply cut.

Moriko has no doubt that the Dream Weaver got tired of dealing with Kato's whining over the link. She lets out a small snort before she shakes her head and tries her hardest to focus on the teacher's words. She squints. There's already writing on the black board but half of it is blocked by two heads of red hair in front of her. She bites her lip and her finger hesitates an inch away from their backs. She sucks in a deep breath.

"E-Excuse me," she whispers, taping on their shoulders to get their attention, "Can you split up a bit so I can see the board?"

She rears back seeing how both of them turn around to face her – it's as if she's seeing double. Not only do they move in union, but both look strikingly similar. Even for twins. They blink in union at her before two large, cheeky grins stretch across their faces. She wishes she chose a different seat – one far in the back and away from those rather disturbing grins. Those grins just scream fresh meat and suddenly, she feels a lot like that rat that Kato once ate. Prey in the face of its predator.

But the moment that they open their mouths to say something, a hand whacks them on the back of their heads. They reel back with a wince, mumbling as they rub their heads. Moriko throws a grateful grin to her 'savior' – a smaller student with brown hair. Their androgynous appearance makes their true gender hard to tell – though it doesn't necessarily matter.

"Don't even think about it," the 'hero' says bluntly, giving a dry 'I'm so done with this' look to the twins, who do their best to look as if they weren't planning to do anything. They turn to Moriko with a curious look, tilting their head to the side in a way that makes their bangs gently fall across their forehead, "I haven't seen you before. Are you new?"

Moriko hesitates, her face feeling a bit hot, the cute curiosity of her 'hero' momentarily distracting her before she can process what was said.

"Y-Yeah. Tenshi Moriko," she dips her head in greeting, a gesture which is returned.

"Fujiko Haruhi. Are you here on a scholarship too? You don't exactly look like a normal student."

Moriko can hear the twins mutter to themselves about Haruhi's direct approach of questioning. But she smiles at Haruhi, after a lifetime of people dancing around her and avoiding the point, the other's approach to asking is a breath of fresh air. Her eyes twinkle as she leans forward in her seat with a laugh,

"Oh no, we can afford this school just fine – sort of. But I don't really think yellow's my color. Or anyone's really." she stops for a moment before continuing, "-Too? Are you here on a scholarship?"

Haruhi opens her mouth to reply, but a shout from the teacher makes them all turn their attention back on class and less on each other. Though both Haruhi and Moriko notice how the twins continue to spare glances back toward the new student with scheming grins.


Reve Effori rubs her temples with her fingers gently and deeply, hoping maybe if she continues to do so that the throbbing headache will calm down. The hope is small – in the past, nothing short of either removing herself from the situation to transform into her true form or two bottle of pain killers would solve the problem. She finished off the pain killers yesterday and due to her new school environment, she's unable to suddenly up and leave. Even if she could, she wouldn't be able to transform here. But everyone's thoughts stab into her mind like mental daggers – everyone, particularly the females in the room, is loud and jarring. Cutting the mental link between her sisters, as much as it pains her to do so, has helped sort through her mind, but there's so much to process that she feels even hours of meditation would barely be of any service. It doesn't help that she happens to be placed behind two men – one of whom is recognizable as the suspicious student who watch them this morning, the other of whom just has extremely loud thoughts.

"Excuse me," the loud one has a surprisingly soft, calming voice as he turns to look at her, his eyes twinkling as he bows his head, "Are you okay? A beautiful face such as yours shouldn't look as if it's in pain."

The other one doesn't turn to her, but she can see how he still manages to keep a close eye on them. He turns a bit, adjusting his position in a way that his ears are more turned toward them. It would have been discrete. But considering how she keeps just as close of an eye on him as he does on her, she notices this movement easily. Her eyes narrow on him briefly before she moves her gaze back to the blonde. Despite the almost-nauseating charm that drips on his words, there's a genuine concern shining in his eyes. Her face softens into a more neutral expression as she sits up straighter in her seat, her head held high.

"I am fine, thank you for your concern."

She doesn't know what she said. But something in her words seems to excite him. His eyes light up with stars as he eagerly leans forward, suddenly becoming much closer to her than she'd like. Her back is straight against her chair and yet there's still only a few inches between their faces. She can feel his breath on her cheek and swallows a gag reflex at the close proximity.

"If I'm not mistaken, there's a French hint in your Japanese. Are you French, mon cheri?"

"Oui."

The moment her answer leaves her lips, she regrets it and feels a sense of dread building in her chest. The excitement in the boy's eyes only grow as he begins to jitter in French, babbling, barely even taking a moment to breath. She only catches glimpses of it – his name is Tamaki Souh and he's oddly interested in where she's from in France. But that's only what she hears with her physical ears. Mentally – mentally her mind is overwhelmed with a swarm of words. His sentences swirl and form a tornado in her mind, spinning and spinning and spinning. Her heart begins to pound so loudly that she cannot even hear him with her actual ears anymore. Her blood goes straight to her brain. Her hands shake in her lap as she ducks her head down.

It's only then that Kyoya steps in, noting the falter in her otherwise emotionless form. As if on the brink of fainting or a panic attack or a strange mixture of the two. He almost doesn't blame her. It takes a special type of person to handle Tamaki. Even he struggles at times. But at least I do a much better job at hiding my displeasure, he pushes up his glasses before he turns his head toward Tamaki – for a brief moment, he swears that he saw Reve look up just enough to glare at him. For an even briefer moment, he almost believes that her eyes flashed with a pink glow. Like a warning of sorts – but a warning of what, he's doesn't know, and brushes off the flashing eyes as a trick of the light. Though it doesn't stop his own eyes from lingering on her, as if expecting her to jump out of her seat or suddenly reveal whatever it is that she seems to be hiding. Interesting.

"Tamaki," Kyoya speaks up calmly, cutting off the other one's rant, "Perhaps you should give the lady her personal space back, hm?"

Tamaki blinks blankly before realization of the request dawns on him, a sheepish flush creeping up on his cheeks as he draws himself back into his seat, adding space between him and the newest student. He gives her a dazzling smile as an apology, but falters when he notices that her attention isn't on him nor on her trembling hands. Her intense glaring gaze is directed directly at Kyoya. His face falls, looking between the two, trying to figure out the connection between the glare and his best friend. He comes at a blank and settles back down in his seat, eyes hooded with thought.

What did Kyoya say that made her so upset?