I can't believe I'm already up to chapter 6! Thanks again, everyone for reading. Please keep the reviews coming, as your opinions are always encouraging! I'm leaving tomorrow morning for a spring break trip to the International House of Prayer (IHOP) in Kansas City. So, if I don't update for a while, you'll know why. The only downside to this trip is that now Ikuto will have my room all to himself - for an entire week. I can only pray that when I come back everything will still be in one piece!

Recap: I buried my face in the pillow, blocking out the dim glow from the streetlights, which shone through the weathered curtains. I had to rest up for my orientation tomorrow. I groaned inwardly. With my luck, Ikuto would be showing me around the school, too.In the morning, I stumbled to the admissions office, still jetlagged after a night of inadequate, infrequent sleep. I picked up my class schedule and, with some difficulty, found my way to my first class: world history. It was just my luck that the other members of the study-abroad program were all either sophomores or seniors, meaning they wouldn't be sharing any of my classes. Not that I was too friendly with any of them, but at least they spoke English. I would be alone in a class of Tokyo natives.

Once I reached my classroom, I gratefully plopped myself into a desk near the back of the room, sliding my backpack off. As I pulled my textbook out, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to meet the smiling eyes of a cute girl in pigtails behind me.

"Hi," she said. "Are you Cynthia North-san?"

"Yes," I said. Apparently my arrival wouldn't be a surprise.

"I'm so excited to meet you," she went on. "I'm Airi Okinawa."

I smiled. "Glad to meet you, Okinawa-san."

She giggled. "Please call me Airi-chan."

I found myself laughing, too. "Okay." I turned back around and focused on opening my book to the right unit. Suddenly, a shadow fell over my desk.

"What do you think you're doing?" a loud, deep voice demanded.

I slowly lifted my eyes to meet those of a tough-looking punk with at least half a dozen piercings in his face.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"You're in my seat," the guy growled.

"Sorry," I said, with no intention of moving. "I was told you didn't have assigned seats at this school."

"We don't," tough-guy said, leaning over me so I could smell his malodorous breath. "But this is my seat."

"Takeshi-kun," came the feeble voice of Airi from behind me. "Lay off. She doesn't know where you usually sit."

Takeshi looked at me, blinked a few times, and then seemed to notice for the first time that I wasn't one of his usual classmates. He folded his arms across his chest. "So you're the new girl. South-san, was it?"

I rolled my eyes. How could more than one person have made the same obvious mistake with my name?

"My name is Cynthia North."

"Ooh, feisty, are we?" Takeshi said as a couple of his friends walked in and crowded around me as well.

"Hey, Takeshi, is this the new girl?" asked one.

"Yeah, the American," said the other.

"Come on, say something for us, in English," prodded the first.

A smirk slowly spread over my face. "You guys are a bunch of nosy pushovers," I said, in crystal-clear English.

"Hey!" shouted Takeshi's second friend. "I'm taking English. You think you have the right to talk to us like that?"

I stood up so my eyes were level with his. In English, I replied, "Yes, I do."

The second friend, now red-faced with fury, turned to Takeshi and gave a brief translation of my insult. Takeshi raised a hand to strike me. Airi gasped.

"Why you little-"

"Takeshi, you've been reduced to hitting girls now?"

Takeshi and his two friends immediately turned to face the source of that familiar voice. Ikuto Tsukiyomi stood a few paces in front of my desk.

One of Takeshi's friends drew in a sharp breath. "Tsukiyomi-sama!"

Sama? I thought. What kind of reputation did Ikuto have at this school?

Ikuto shifted his icy gaze from one boy to the next. "Naoki, Yuuta…scram."

Takeshi's friends gave their leader a look of pity and scurried out of the room, nodding obsequiously to Ikuto, who stared indifferently ahead. Their behavior was enough to make me a little afraid of Ikuto, too. After all, every time I encountered him, he seemed a different person. As Ikuto stepped forward, Takeshi met his challenger's eyes, putting up a brave front, but even I could smell his fear.

"How about it, Takeshi? Were you going to hit her?"

"Tsukiyomi," Takeshi hissed, "you'd do well to mind your own bus-"

Ikuto slammed a hand on Takeshi's shoulder, pressing so hard that his knuckles turned white, and the tough guy let out a pathetic whimper.

"I've spent the last two weeks saving your butt from being expelled," Ikuto went on through clenched teeth. "This is my business. Is this how you repay me? By destroying your reputation again?"

"Ikuto-sama," Airi whispered, still seated behind me.

Ikuto glanced over at her, then let go of Takeshi's shoulder and lowered his hand to his side. "Find somewhere else to sit."

Takeshi hurried past Ikuto and took a desk in the front row, never looking up.

Satisfied, Ikuto turned to face me, leaning a hand on my desk. "Are you intent on making trouble for me?" he demanded.

I scowled up at him. "I didn't ask you to come swooping in to my rescue. What are you, my official stalker?"

He smiled sarcastically and was about to reply when Sensei stepped into the room.

"All right, class, everyone to your seats," he shouted over the dull roar of the thirty-something students who had now gathered in the room.

I sat down, and Ikuto quickly slipped into the desk beside mine, shrugging off his messenger bag and whipping out his book.

Sensei wrote his name on the board. Akito Tottori. "North-san, will you please stand?"

I did as asked and felt all eyes on me.
"This is Cynthia North, our new exchange student from America. I'll need a volunteer to help her find her way around. If you're interested, see me after class."

A couple of boys a few rows ahead of me whispered to each other, looking back at me underhandedly. I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I sat back down. The stupid uniform skirt was too short for my liking and was granting me the wrong kind of attention.

Tottori-sensei picked up his textbook and began to saunter down the aisles of seats. "Last night you finished Unit 8 which, remember, we're having an exam over on Monday."

Today was Friday. I mentally wiped my brow in relief, because Unit 8 was American history, which I happened to know a thing or two about. I would have plenty of time to brush up over the weekend, too.

"In the section review," Tottori went on, "question five was a little tricky. Did any one get the answer to that one?"

I glanced over the question, pulling out my Japanese-English dictionary. The question asked something about the Civil War, but there was a word I didn't know.

"Very good, Chiba-san."

Shoot. While I was looking up the Japanese word for destruction, someone else had already answered the question. I blew a strand of hair from my face. This was going to take some getting used to.

By now, Tottori-sensei had gone back to question one and was ambling down the aisle separating Ikuto and me. "Come on, no volunteers?" he asked. "How about you, Tuskiyomi-san?"

Ikuto, who appeared totally unconcerned, replied, "I didn't get that one."

Tottori narrowed his eyes, taking another step and stopping just short of Ikuto's desk. "Did you even do your homework, Tsukiyomi-san?"

Ikuto lazily leaned back in his chair and put his arms behind his head. "No, sir."

"Come to think of it, you haven't turned in any homework all week, have you?"

I could hear Airi nervously chomping on her nails behind me, but Ikuto remained dead calm. "No, sir."

Tottori turned to regard me for a moment, then swiveled back to confront Ikuto again. "Have you met North-san?"

"Yes, we've me-"

"Good. You just volunteered to be her personal tour guide for the rest of the day."

As Tottori stroked back up the aisle, spouting off question two, I looked over to smile at Ikuto, relieved I'd be paired with someone I already, more or less, knew. But Ikuto looked completely despondent and refused to meet my eyes. His expression slapped the grin off my face and replaced it with a scowl of my own. If it was up to me, I'd see him strung up by that blue hair of his. I focused my negative energy on the textbook in front of me, certain that Ikuto would, indeed, regret spending the day with me.

Again, please R&R! Comments, positive or negative criticisms, and compliments on my wonderful writing skills are all welcome! *wink*