"Why won't you say anything, damn it!" Allen roared across the table, making all the people in the cafeteria, including Kanda slouching on his chair, sit up. Lavi broke away from his conversation with Lenalee and Miranda at last.

With a face like an emotionless mask, Kanda got up and left the vicinity. It was ten minutes to eight, and the students realized that they'd better get to their first classes immediately. Allen bid Lavi farewell, a bitter taste coating his mouth from his previous conversation. All I wanted was to go to a good music school and play the piano. How'd I get so wrapped up in other peoples' lives before school even started?

BOSM had a unique schedule and method of teaching that changed with each of the two semesters in the year. Lessons began at 8:00 AM with two hours of a master class including only four or five students taught by a professional musician, more often than not famous. Then, at 10:00 there commenced an hour of music history, and from that point on another hour of music theory and composition. At noon, students were given an hour for lunch and rest, although they were expected to practice a bit as well, and the day was finished up with two more hours of the master class, usually to give any final advise or critiques before each pupil returned to the Dorm.

Allen walked into a spacious, well-lit classroom in the middle of which had a beautiful, ebony colored, grand piano. His spirits lifted, and he took a seat among three other students. They didn't speak much to him, or each other for that matter, but Allen took it into account because of nerves.

A round, smiling man in a white coat wearing a flowered top-hat and small, round glasses entered the room. And indeed the students thought he was smiling, for his face had been contorted unbelievably, but any expression like that was rather unheard of.

"Hello, class!" The man paused, as if expecting an answer.

"Hi-hrm." Went a boy softly, and then tried to disguise his words as a cough. But that was enough for the man, and he grinner even wider.

"Fantastic!" The man brandished the umbrella he'd been holding by his side and danced about awfully light for a person of his stature. "I am Millennium Earl, your teacher for the Fall/Winter semester. You may call me 'Earl.'"

Allen was shocked. His teacher was none other than THE Millennium Earl, or THE Earl, who regularly had wildly successful concerts at places such as Carnegie Hall or Lincoln Center, and was well-known for his virtuosity. The bean sprout could barely contain his excitement.

"Alright, I'd like you to introduce each of yourselves." The Earl chuckled in good humor, and I will give each of you a present!"

Everyone's pulse quickened.

"I'm Jill Greene!" A girl called with unsubtle hints of generic-ness.

"I'm the Generic Student from the last chapter I hope no one forgot. If you did then please re-read-" The sadly generic child was cut off.

"M-my name's Johnny Tapp!"

"I'm Allen Walker."

The Earl guffawed with joy. He then reached behind him and pulled out a basket of… Boiled eggs? "You whippersnappers need good nutrition to get a good education. Dig in!"

Each student stared blankly at the egg in their hands, unsure of what to do. However, Allen, never being one to turn down free food of any sort, peeled it carefully and consumed the egg in less than a minute. The Earl dabbed his mouth after polishing off his own egg. At once the atmosphere in the room changed.

"Now," said the Earl gravely, "let us begin."

Meanwhile, Kanda was sitting in his classroom while growing angrier and angrier. Whispers flitted across the room rapidly, though the samurai could hear every last one.

"Hey, do you think he's really Yuu Kanda?"

"You mean that genius violinist, that Paganini Jr.? You're out of your mind."

"But he was mad good at the finals!"

"Go up and ask him, why don't you?"

One boy got up and walked nervously up to Kanda. "Um, err; is it true that you won the International Jean Sibelius Violin Competition when you were fifteen?"

Kanda ignored the boy completely. His head had begun to pound nastily, and of all things the fucking teacher was fucking late. Argh, just like that damn old man Tiedoll always was.

The boy pressed on, unaware of Kanda's state at the time. "Is it true that you won the Henryk Wieniawsky Violin Competition, too?! And you're the concertmaster of the New York Philharmonic? And- and-"

Kanda had risen to his full height and towered over the boy. "FUCK OFF." He snarled, about to rip the frightened kid to shreds when a tall man with long, blood-red hair and a violin case stomped into the room, the sound of his boots hitting the wood flooring deafening.

"My, my. What have we here?" The man loped up to the two offenders. He surveyed Kanda's hands on the boy's collar and his furious expression. Then he barked, "I don't give a damn if you pummel the kid to shit. Do it outside my classroom, you hear?"

Kanda released the boy and fell back into his chair. His headache had worsened; did he have a migraine? The nosy child ran back in tears to his two friends on the other side of the room and they muttered to each other conspiratorially.

"And I have to let you know something," the man said, stooping to meet Kanda, "The only person who can swear his fucking mouth off here is ME."

The entire classroom fell to a crackling silence. The man smirked, lighting up a cigarette. "The name's Cross Marian, you fucking freshmen. I don't care who you are. I don't care what your opinions are of me. All I care about is your music. And by 'care' I mean I'll kill you if you don't play well."

Cross took a long drag. "I'll give you a song and an hour to play it. Get to work, sissies." Cross threw the students a packet of sheet music and then left the room.

Kanda looked at the notes calmly. It was by Beethoven, and he recalled playing it once long ago. Within several minutes, he'd finished reading it and he took out his violin, oblivious to the tense figures of his peers. He placed the chin rest carefully in the crook of his neck, so as not to touch the bruise. Soon, there wasn't a sound in the room other than Kanda's violin, and all the students were affronted.

"Hey, help us, would you?" A large burly man stepped up. "I'm Skin Boric."

Kanda didn't respond and kept on playing. The real world was distant at the moment.

"You bastard!" Skin advanced, fists raised, but one of the students intervened.

"Idiot, Cross will fail us if we screw up his classroom!"

Skin narrowed his eyes. "Fucking bastard."

And hour passed in the blink of an eye, and like he said, Cross returned, albeit half and hour late. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but then again now they only had thirty minutes of actual teaching time.

"Alright, let's hear you." Cross turned to the Nosy boy. "Why don't you go first, Nosy?"

"My name is-"

"Say another word and I kick you out."

Nosy frowned, miserably, and commenced. He made countless mistakes and his movements were jerky. However, in one of the passages there was a small improvement. Cross cut him off there.

"You suck. Your bowing sucks. Follow the notes. It's supposed to be forte here. Why are you playing it fortissimo? Can you read? This place," Cross pointed, "you can do much better. Look at your phrasing for a moment. Keep your wrist flexible but continue having a good grip on the bow. That'll make your notes much clearer. Next!"

Nosy looked surprised for a moment, and then smiled. Cross wasn't as harsh as he'd predicted.

Generic Student 2 (the brother of Generic Student) popped up excitedly and played the piece with extreme speed. He was done in less than half the time as Nosy and waited with a satisfied expression to as what Cross would say.

"What the fuck are you doing? One: Too. Fast. Say it with me: TOO FAST. Fuck, this is only andante! It's garbled up and your rhythm is totally lewd. This is from the Classical period, not the Modern. Slower will do the trick, and give it some thought, would you? Music isn't some brainless sport. Next!"

Skin stepped up nervously and began to play. Cross stopped him just before the last few pages.

"It's bad, but not unbearable. You captured some of the innocent mirth, and did well with the characteristic rush of rage Beethoven's pieces usually have. You have a long way to go, still. Practice your ass off, you hear?" Cross turned around. "Alright. Next!"

Kanda's head felt like it was about to burst and his knees were weak. The samurai pushed all of his discomfort away; he'd gone to many competitions feeling like utter shit, but he'd won them out of sheer determination. He took a breath and started.

Cross listened to Kanda's playing until the last notes and the piece was finished. Then he scratched his head. "YOU FAIL."

Kanda froze immediately where he was, violin still balanced on his shoulder. Black spots danced in front of his eyes, and he, rooted to the spot, took no notice of Cross saying, "End of class!"

The samurai spun around, "What do you mean I-"

Cross faced him, eyes blazing. "Your technique, bowing, articulation, everything's perfect. In short, you're the most talented student I've seen in a long time."

"Then why-"

"Cut me off again and you are out of this academy!" Cross shouted. "What the hell's wrong with the emotion in your playing? Take the two sad passages; you just repeated what you did on one page again! And the mischievous spot? Sure, it sounded like the real thing, but your facial expression, the way you moved, they never changed from the beginning!"

Kanda didn't know what to think. This was how he'd been playing since he picked up a violin. What in the world…?

"When you performed 'Mugen,' it was exceptional. That was because the feelings, the pain in that piece, were real." Cross sighed, rubbing his mustache, "Don't think I'm clueless about what your home was like. In short, you don't know any emotions so you can't identify with what the composer has experienced. Everything is perfect; it's perfect, okay? But without soul…"

Cross walked out of the classroom, calling, "You won't get anywhere, no matter how much you play." The door slammed.

Kanda picked up his violin, his books, and made his way to his next class. Without a word.

Lavi and Allen chatted together in the music history room. The teacher wasn't there yet and the teens were taking advantage of this. There were many people in this class since what instrument you played was inconsequential.

"The Earl is such an amazing pianist!" Allen gushed, thinking fondly of his lesson. "We started of with Mozart's Rondo Alla Turca, which is pretty well known, right? But he had us all play together at the same time and the sound was just so freaking huge it was awesome! And then he gave us pointers on the form of our hands and our movement and everything was so, so, so cool."

Lavi smiled. "Speaking of huge, by the way, my teacher's cha-cha flags are insane! Her name's Klaud Nine, and she specializes in the larger string instruments. I told her I'd like make music with her, and then she picked up a fucking double bass with one arm and beat me over the head with it!" Lavi pointed to his bandages. "Then again, it wasn't so different with bookman, so whatever, I guess."

Allen laughed. He was about to say something when Kanda staggered in shakily.

"Yuu-chan!" Lavi bounded up to him. "Did ya wow the teach?"

Kanda didn't reply. He pulled out some sheet music and poured over it extensively. Lavi peered over his shoulder. Weird. This isn't a hard song. Yuu-chan shouldn't have any trouble over it. Allen moved over to sit next to him.

"What's wrong, Kanda?"

"I'll tell ya what's wrong!" Skin Boric boomed smarmily from across the room. "That prick got told off by Cross. Failed, actually. Even I did better than him!"

"Yuu-chan," started Lavi, concerned. The room began buzzing with talk.

"Lavi, why's everyone so up about Kanda?"

"Um, let's just say he's good at what he does."

Allen lost his cheer from his master class. He looked the samurai up and down and noticed for the first time how thin he was. It was unnatural; he appeared to have more or even less the same figure as Allen, who was a good four inches shorter. Was he this fragile looking at the finals? Allen wasn't sure. All he knew about Kanda seemed to be based on gossip and rumors.

The teacher arrived and introduced himself as Reever Wenham. "Kanda," whispered Allen, "I'll take notes for you." The white-haired boy jotted down even the most immaculate details of what Reever said, nearly scripting the entire dialogue in his notebook, much more neatly than he'd normally do. Allen would photo-copy his notes later and give them to Kanda.

The samurai showed no sign of recognition.

Music theory and composition class passed without difficulty. The teacher, a Mister Link, was polite and quiet. He gave them tips on incorporating ornaments like trills and mordents into their personal pieces and provided some information on the history of some of their instruments.

At last, it was lunch time. Kanda got up to leave with his violin, but Lavi dragged him down with him to the cafeteria. The fact the Kanda actually obeyed and followed was terrifying.

"Hey, Lavi! Kanda-kun!" Lenalee, Miranda, and Krory walked over to the two. "Are you going to have lunch now? Or maybe practice?"

"NO PRACTICE." Said Lavi forcefully, retaining his iron grip on Kanda's arm.

Lenalee glanced at the samurai. Oh god, he does not look well. "I think Kanda-kun should have some of Jerry's soup. He's the cook, and his food usually helps with any, um, problems."

"Brilliant idea, Lenalee!" Declared Lavi. He swiveled around. "Where's Allen?" The boy had disappeared, so the group decided to go down without him.

In the library, Allen had just finished Kanda's set of notes. He flexed his hand. I hope I don't have to do this every time. The bean sprout set out to leave when he spied an empty computer in the corner. He went up to it and typed, just for the hell of it, "Yuu Kanda" into the search engine. A few minutes later…

"Holy shit," breathed Allen awestruck by all of the awards, nominations, competitions, and acclaim Kanda had, both in the U.S., Europe, and Asia. No wonder Kanda's name had been familiar to him and everyone had… Wait. Wait just a second. Didn't someone say Kanda's teacher failed him? On the first day? With a sinking feeling, Allen knew this was not going to bode well.

In the cafeteria, Miranda spoke with Krory fondly and Lenalee was whispering to Lavi.

"What's wrong with Kanda-kun?"

"First day didn't go so well, I guess. I'm not sure."

"I hope he's alright. He drank most of his soup, and I told Jerry to make it extra hot, so he might be better. He still looks bad though."

"I know! Yuu-chan's not taking care of himself at all. I mean, all he does is saw away at his violin day and night. I can't even keep track of how long this happens anymore because the rooms are sound proofed."

"My gosh. Is that really true?"

"Totally. So, how'd your master class go? Smoother than Yuu's, that's for sure."

Lavi and Lenalee continued to make speak and grow acquainted with each other. The Asian girl stole a glance at Kanda still pouring over his sheets of music. He works so hard.

"Hey, Beautiful. Looks like I finally caught you."

Lenalee grinned, exasperated, "Hi, Tyki. It's nice to see you again. I guess." The tall, dark-skinned man sat down smoothly on the bench next to Lenalee.

"With you, my love is never a guess, Beautiful."

Lavi made a little sound in the back of his throat. Tyki noticed him.

"Here, eat this carrot."

"?" Lavi bit the vegetable from Tyki's fingers, unsure of what to expect.

"Look, Beautiful. I just fed a rabbit."

"What the hell?!"

When Allen arrived at the cafeteria, he raised his eyebrow once, and then shrugged the sight before him off. Lavi and another person he'd never met before were arguing furiously, and Lenalee was trying to play peacemaker. Miranda was gazing at the fight, but mostly at Lavi, and saying "sorry!" again and again. Krory sat, cross-legged next to her, brows knitted and fuming at losing precious Miranda-time. And let's not forget our dear samurai, eh? Wait. Where was Kanda?

Allen put down his tray covered with food the size of Mt. Everest. He muttered he'd be back soon, not caring if anyone heard. He edged through the crowded hallways and then checked the practice rooms, most of which were empty. Kanda wasn't there. As a final resort, he checked the men's bathroom.

Inside, he moved along the clean blue tiled floor. There was a moan. And then a soft cry followed by a fit of coughing and retching. Allen slowed to a standstill. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It's Kanda, I'm sure of it. What do I do? What do I do? It was going to be awkward if they met, that was for sure. Allen fidgeted and then ran from the bathroom to the cafeteria without halting. Two more hours. Two hours. That's all. Then he'd get help.

--

A/N: Kanda doesn't have an eating disorder!! That'd be horrible! DX But you know that churning, nausea inducing feeling you get when you get so panicked you can't think? (At least it happens to me. It's not pleasant.) That's what happens with Kanda, magnified.

Tyki: I just fed a rabbit. XPP