* This story was inspired by previous works that I've read in the past. Key authors being Holly Black and Melissa Marr. I take no credit for their work. Furthermore, I don't carry the rights for this anime. Some of the characters will act OOC; all of these characters are of age. Constructive criticism is very welcome. Enjoy.

Chapter 2: Amu's POV

She didn't get a single bit of sleep last night. Of course it was mostly her own fault for being out at such a late time. But even still, when she'd gotten home she stayed up even longer. And then her cursed alarm rang. And we all know how that feels.

The class tittered and seemed hyped up. And despite Amu feeling dead inside, she could appreciate the energy. Fridays normally had this affect on most of the kids in her school, the only reason for the excitement today was because it was Friday. The pinkette sat at a singular desk in the back of the room, smiling and occasionally laughing at groups of people fooling around in front of her. Geometry was just about the only class she had all by herself, so to speak. She knew everyone there, but she wasn't entirely entitled or thrilled about starting a conversation with any of them. To her, the only thing these people were worth, was for a nice laugh. She saved conversation for all six of her other classes.

She tapped her pen on her desk, looking down at the scribbles and blotches of ink on her notebook where her pen had exploded the other day. 'Maybe I write with too much pressure,' She thought with idly, running her fingertips over top the damage.

It was sixth period, second to last of her classes before school ended, and before kids screamed and laughed all the way to their cars or the school buses. Our teacher, Mr. Nikaidou, stood tall and lanky in front of the class with his black slacks and outrageous, colorful sweater on. He'd once told the class that he was making a devilish attempt at showing his 'swagger'... The kids laughed at him.

"You need to try a little bit harder then, Nikaidou-sensei." Said some boy, who always tried to make him look stupid in front of the dry-erase board.

Amu rolled her eyes and smiled a little. She thought it was actually kind of cute that Mr. Nikaidou was bold enough to try and relate to the students, even if it was pointless. She wasn't a big fan of style, so she couldn't really pitch in with the rest of her class. At least, she did but she wasn't completely obsessed with it. She differentiated between 'Absolutely raggedy', to 'Trying to hard'. She knew the difference between the two well, but to her underwear, shirts and pants were modesty prisons, and shoes were glass-protectors.

'That strange man and his tunic though,' she thought. No one in their right mind would wear anything like that in this day and age. Yes, that man. Just that thought nearly bombarded her with the memory and dream of him the night before. How strange, and mysterious he was. Truthfully, 'mysterious' wasn't even the correct term for him. To her, he seemed like... Well... The embodiment of sex. A seductive God, if you will. Complete and utter eye candy.

And judging by his reaction when she denied his invitation to staying with him, she'd no doubt that he knew damn well what effect he had on her. Just the thought of him made her body warm, and her blood and heartbeat rush and pound in her ears. The way his eyes gazed confidently back into hers was mind boggling.

She wished she would have taken his hand and experienced one hell of a night she just knew he had planned for her. She wished she knew what it would have felt like to have his hand hold and caress her body as if she were only his and no one else's. As if she belonged to him and only hi-

Amu coughed, taking her fist to gently thump her chest. "Oh, why?!" She said, her voice overpowering the teachers'.

Everyone in the class paused and looked back at her curiously. Of course. Amu's face reddened and she simply shook her head, putting her hand to her forehead, leaning on the desk to hide her face in embarrassment.

"What was that all about, Hinamori-san?" She heard the teacher ask with slight agitation.

'Since when did my thoughts get so... M rated?' She thought as she apologized to Mr. Nikaidou, and pondered that question for most of the class period afterward.

The bell since rang and came her last class. There, she talked with a few students but was still very preoccupied in her own thoughts to really listen and keep tabs on the conversation.

She just seemed to be at a loss for explaining that infatuation with him to herself. Not only that, but did she really think going to see him again was a wise idea? Amu knew that something was really weird about that man and this situation in general. She was barely able to concentrate on anything that happened today; everything seemed to revolve around Mr. Violin.

The boy who didn't want to give her a name, for starters. The boy who seemed to have 70 years of talent in one boy who dressed weird and confidently. Who seemed to always make something innocent sound dirty and impure. Amu supposed that the violin thing could've come as a hobby. But the rest? Absolutely not normal. Well. Maybe the innuendos are pretty normal... Ugh.

He was completely full of himself. One of those types who use their attractive charms as weapons.

Her thoughts were cut short when the precise sound of a mono-toned violin pierced through seventh period's Photography room as if the walls were made of butter. The single note was like a knife to Amu's ears. She almost flung her computer mouse across the room. It made her want to cover her ears and scream.

"What is that?!" A girl next to her shouted, covering her ears protectively in the process.

The teacher, Mr. Tensuke covered his ears as well, and tried to shake out the noise from his head, it seemed.

Amu was one of the first to get up and peer out of one of the big picture windows, gazing around the parking lot in search of something suspicious. But the noise stopped as soon as it had started, and Amu hadn't looked out of the window for more than two seconds before she spotted a mop of bluish-purple hair. The sight didn't last long, either, as the strange boy and his unusual character flitted back into the small cluster of trees.

"Alright, alright class. Come and sit down for a moment. That was most likely a test fire-drill gone wrong." Mr. Tensuke was trying to say over the chatter.

Amu sat back into her seat and stared blankly at her computer screen. What was that all about? There was no test fire-drill. She knew that. In fact, she knew exactly what it was. There was no doubt in her that told her exactly who it was.

No name. Mr. Violin.

That's who. The only questions she wanted answered was on 'why'. Why did he have to play his violin so early in the morning? Why did he have to talk to her? Why did he dress weird? Why didn't he tell her his name? Why did he decide to show up at her school, for goodness sake? And then there was a 'how'.

...How did he know where she was?

Amu set her hand atop of her mouse, the other poised onto the set of keys on the keyboard. Maybe it wasn't her he was there for. Either way, she was going to find out what was happening, and what was going on. And she was going to find out tonight.

R&R. I would appreciate it.