A/N: Sorry for making yuo wait guys ^^

Takeru's stomach lurched. He felt dizzy.

A few feet from him Tsubasa's heart was pounding with uneasiness. One of the kept traditions in the school was that each student was to eat, study, hang out, and pretty much do everything relevant and/or significant with his or her fellow year—one tradition that Tsubasa had just overlooked. It wasn't as if being with an upper- or lower classman was taboo—they're not going to haul you out of the academy for it; it was just one of those social hierarchies deeply implanted into the school structure over the years that everyone just has to follow for the sake of fitting in or acknowledging its existence.

Hence, Takeru and Tsubasa pushed the double doors that opened into the cafeteria, sweaty hands and all.

So far, no one had take notice. The two trudged along the tables so slowly it's as if they were anticipating something jumping at them suddenly. They had two different reasons for doing so, however—Takeru doesn't know the consequences of skipping a class, and was therefore cautious because somebody might take notice of his presence compared to his absence in his last class—his teacher, maybe, who has decided to take his evening meal with the students instead of their designated private eating canteens, or other teachers who were informed of his truancy, while Tsubasa was deliberating what another student might implicate of what he was doing with a lower year student.

Tsubasa wasn't exactly as infamous as Daisuke, but they more or less come to equals in terms of the offenses and misdeeds they've done—Daisuke has done a few, severe ones while Tsubasa has pulled off many but fairly light ones. But Tsubasa was just the little mischievous imp at heart, and would never think of hurting anybody. Daisuke, though, had planted a firm stereotype on all rogue-would-be-nots, that people throw distrustful looks at any troublemakers, particularly Tsubasa who has quite a record.

And now, his mind nervously settled that the students might not take it too well that he, 11th grade rule breaker Tsubasa Ando, was about to sit at an empty table and eat with Takeru, a seemingly innocent, adorable (in his opinion) 10th grade new student—the fact that Takeru was promoted from the 9th grade didn't help, either. Both of them thought, however, that the other was thinking the same way as him, seeing as the tray of food they procured from the line next to the cafeteria doors was shaking the same way.

In a sense, both of them were overreacting. Takeru's new to the school and therefore his teacher probably didn't mind (or notice) he wasn't there, and Tsubasa's just mildly paranoid about the whole thing--they're just friends, after all. For now at least, he added confidently.

It was eerie how they were talking so animatedly about art and music one moment, and the next there was dead silence hanging between them. It was this sense of trouble-anticipating that gave them the time and perception for both Takeru and Tsubasa to actually look at each other, in an emotions-barred, purely analytical way. And there it was. They stared while eating.

And then, after some more thinking, both found it appropriate to just burst out laughing.

And there it was.

They laughed rather loudly, enough that it was inappropriate. The students just had to simultaneously swivel their heads to their direction like compasses towards north--it was, in essence, in their nature.

And then the whispers started. Tsubasa had finally ceased chuckling, and was finding it incredibly stupid that if you're all going to whisper, then it couldn't be inconspicuous anymore, could it?

Takeru hadn't noticed.

Six tables away, Daisuke did. And he leaned into Ruka and whispered, too.

"Hey, check this out," he muttered. Ruka failed to comprehend in time before a mashed potato glob made it's was towards the nape of Takeru's neck with amazing accuracy.

Ruka also didn't grasp how someone could jump and come between Takeru and the glob, very swiftly, considering that said someone was adjacent Takeru on the table.

And everybody saw when Tsubasa jumped, rather clumsily. The students laughed at the potato-ey heap he was on the floor. Takeru was flabbergasted.

Tsubasa stood up quickly and scanned everyone.

"Who threw that?" he said, in an I'm-gonna-rip-your-throat-off voice.

Daisuke nonchalantly raised his spoon.

"I did."

The crowd, silent with anticipation, saw the sparks jumping as both glared rather intensely. And then, in one swift motion, Takeru scooped a handful of spinach soup (or at least he thought it was spinach; i didn't even looked cooked) and threw it, with great aim as well, towards Daisuke.

Smack!

The squishy face-to-glob sound resounded through the cafeteria. Daisuke wiped off his shocked facade and quickly replaced it with a seething one, making a grab for his bowl of spinach soup(?).

"Hold it right there!" A voice that was quiet yet lined with authority spoke.

Mr Kudo stood behind the crowd, which had parted. Without saying anything, he motioned for the three with his index finger, to follow him. Takeru found it disconcerting that Daisuke complied without question, and so paced himself as well. He thought Mr Kudo must be someone you don't want to mess with.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

His first day, and he was sitting outside the principal's office, with Tsubasa separating him from Daisuke, who seemed to be cooking the spinach he was covered in, seeing all the trembling rage boiling his blood.

Tsubasa had pointedly ignored Daisuke and leaned towards Takeru, who was gripping the armchair tightly.

"Don't worry. I'll sort this out," he whispered, reassuring the younger teen with a cheeky grin. Takeru relaxed a bit.

Mr Kudo's greyish hair popped out of the principal's office, his eyes tired and annoyed, and gestured all of them inside.

They filed in without much fuss, and sat on the sofas. Daisuke took the smaller armchair, the one against the single window, while Tsubasa and Takeru plumped down on the longer couch facing the large mahogany desk. Takeru was tapping a foot nervously against the usual green carpeting.

Takeru found the clean, academical look of the room incredibly daunting. The only light on was a lamp, and Takeru saw that it was pitch dark outside, through the windows. He concluded it was a standard interrogative procedure for these teachers, to intimidate and scare out the answers they want from you.

A pink teddy plushie above the file cabinet next to a normal looking door (for storage, he guessed) ruined the atmosphere, although it's grin was verging on creepy.

"Eh, ehem." The person behind the desk spun his spinny chair... rather playfully. Tsubasa raised an eyebrow as Takeru stared confused, at the seemingly childish Principal, saying as long 'weee' before the chair stopped.

"Ah, Tsubasa, m'boy! Still can't stay out of trouble I see!" he exclaimed, in a jolly, accented voice, most likely British. He leaned his head on an elbow and the light hit his features. Takeru found the principal terrifying, despite his lighthearted tone and easy features. You could easily say that the principal was fetching back in the days when he was young, although Takeru couldn't quite point out the person's age, what with the limited vision (not that he could).

"And who've you brought here? Motomiya? uMy my my...And, what's this? You have the new student with you as well?" he exclaimed, in what seemed to be a dramatic way. The Principal stood loomed over them all, his gaze fixed scrutinizingly on Takeru. Daisuke fiddled with a stray thread jutting out of his uniform sleeve, not acknowledging the Principal. Takeru wondered grudgingly for a second when will his 'new student' title ever disappear. The principal's goofy stare was unmovig as steel.

Mr Kudo stepped out of the shadows and spoke, obviously exasperated. "These three caused minor ruckus in the cafeteria, sir. You might've guessed what," he gestured to Daisuke's and Tsubasa's soiled clothes.

The Principal nodded, his sandy hair waving, and then stood.

"First day of classes today, is it?" he asked. Mr Kudo.

"Yes sir," Tsubasa replied, out of turn, but the Principal ignored that, even though Tsubasa knew the Principal should have known the date himself. "And if I may say so, sir," he pointedly glared at Daisuke, "he started it."

The Principal look at Daisuke with what Takeru could only interpret was mild disgust. He spoke, in a hushed, lower tone, "Tsk tsk, you should learn to behave, Motomiya. No wonder your romates leave and complain about you."

Daisuke looked anything but regretful, and sorry, and pretty much affected with anything, and directed an icy stare back at his senior. The Principal though, seemed to have his head focused on the papers placed on his table now. Takeru leaned a bit to see what was in those papers. His eyes widened a fraction when he saw his name. Not asking about it seemed the safer thing to do.

"Mr Kudo, I'm a busy, busy man. May I ask you to decide on their punishment in my stead?" he seemed to think in the second Takeru fidgeted. He smiled forlornly.

"Make it a light punishment, if you may-- a warning."

Mr Kudo nodded, ushering the three out of the office, seeing as the Principal was now obviously ignoring them. Takeru was a bit disturbed about seeing his name in those papers. What were written there?

Outside, Mr Kudo shook his head in disdain, and Tsubasa grinned at Takeru, who smiled back. Daisuke was somehow close to bursting into flames.

Their teacher sighed, and skimmed his eyes over them. "I will decide what to give to you as punishment tomorrow." He settled his eyes on Tsubasa. "You may go, Ando. I will have to escort Takaishi to his room.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Takeru thought that the school ground were scary at night. He could only see a few lights as certain blotches in the pitch darkness; it was amazing how Mr Kudo knew where to turn and what obstacle to avoid. Everything was failing to not trip Takeru or smash into him.

That Daisuke was still with them was unusul for Takeru. He was taking furtive glances at the teen, waiting for him to turn left at an intersection or take a different fork in a route.

And then he saw Daisuke tense.

Takeru didn't know why but he could see the daggers shooting out of Daisuke's eyes, first at Mr Kudo and then at Takeru. What was wrong with him? Was he born with that permanent scowling glare?

He decided to ignore him and look ahead. They were moving at a moderate pace, and Takeru saw a lone building drawing near. He sighed in relief. Finally, he could get some rest.

And then, he noticed something that quelled up dread in his stomach. The dormitory building they were currently heading for had nothing but a big oak tree next to it.

And what's worse, Daisuke was heading for it as well. Takeru couldn't help it. He snickered grimly. It was so demented he was sure the gods were against him.

They reached the dormitory and had begun climbing the stairs, each step making Takeru's stomach lurch like it did in the cafeteria. Mr Kudo was silent, but his shoulders were tensed up, as if prepared for something. Now that there was light in the stairwell, Takeru caught sight of Daisuke's balled up fists.

Mr Kudo stopped at floor three, making Takeru come to an abrupt halt. His teacher steadied him, giving him a apologetic smile. This building, unlike the others he saw earlier, was much older, but not in a decrepit, torn down way. The designs were more intricate and the architcture flamboyant. He was staring appalled everywhere, which was what caused him to bump with his teacher.

He noticed that Diasuke had stopped at the same floor. He was incredibly tense as well. But only when did Daisuke went right from the stairwell, the same direction they went, was Takeru's suspicion confirmed. Mr Kudo stopped at the last door.

He turned around, gave Takeru a keycard, and suddenly, to Takeru's surprise, bolted out of there as if a ghoul were chasing him. He--they, he corrcted himself-- stood there for ten seconds, in front of the door. Takeru slowly turned his head towards Daisuke, who was not ashamed at all to glare openly at Takeru.

Takeru opened his mouth, and then closed it. He opened it again, and said, "D-does this mean--"

Daisuke gave a jerky, stiff nod.

"And this is you--"

Again, he nodded.

I silent 'oh' sat on Takeru's lips. Daisuke stepped towards the door, pulled out what seemed to be a keycard, with an guitar keychain, and opened the door. He didn't let it close, a sign that Takeru was, to his relief, allowed to go in. Daisuke grumbled silently as he stomped towards the bathroom.

Takeru was amazed. Not only was this room spacious, it was also spotless and well-furnished. It's couches and shelves were evenly spaced. A nicely-sized television was on a multi purpose shelf, along with a DVD player, books and knick knacks. The maroon sofas were inviting to the eyes, and its throw pillows looked plump. A radio and a CD player were propped up on the glass coffee table in the middle ofr the living room. He found, to his delight, two computers at the wall to the right. The wall to his left was sunken, revealing a wide, curtained window with cushioned window seats. A ceiling fan with multiple bulbs lit the room, along with a table lamp beside the couch.

Walking towards the hallway in front of him, he saw his luggage next to a door that he assumed opened into his room. He pulled out he keycard and was relieved when it worked on it.

His expression lit up when he saw his room, which was as well furnished as the living room. He smiled appreciatively at the wooden desk and chair, the small sofa, the tall cabinet, the spacious bookshelf, and the wide, airy window. What he liked most of all was his queen sized bed, and already he collapsed onto it.

It was when he noticed he was really really tired for the day. He decided he'd put off unpacking until tomorrow, and get some rest. He kicked his sneakers off and crawled under the covers while still in his uniform.

He sighed contentedly, only before his eyes fully closed. He heard one door open and another slam, but he didn't care because he was already going unconscious.

What he didn't know was that his new roommate leaned on and slid down the door after slamming it, his head in his hands, more flustered and beet red than he'd ever been in his life.

A/N: Sorry this is slow paced. I'll try to quicken it a bit. Sorry for the late post as well. R&R