All right, I decided to fix this series up a bit. It was like a sudden impulse—Twinkies! Edit your stories, you idiot! Grab some inspiration and go at it!

So here I go—newly improving these chapters! At first, I refused: "No, I'm too lazy, and freaking Writer's Block won't leave me alone."

Then, my subconscious smacked me and after an episode or two of watching Cry play Corpse Party, I finally decided I was ready to embark on the magical journey of editing!

It's a pretty gallant tale, I think. I hope to finish all the editing in the next week or two—maybe in the next month…I'm kidding, hopefully I won't take that long. But you guys know me—I'm so lazy!

Anyway, you guys go ahead and enjoy this chapter—I'll have more out soon! And check out my Rant Letters in Dear Bastard!

-Twinkies

Horror on the Steps

Xxx

Hiroshi had never been a fan of ghost stories and creepy tales, mainly because they were bogus and only obsessive people believed in them. They were stories for idiots, and Hiroshi Yoshida was definitely not an idiot. He could admit he was curious, but he didn't believe in superstitious conspiracies.

The only reason he was standing before the abandoned mansion was because his friends had talked him into going with them. But now that he was finally standing before the colossal manor, he sensed a disturbance in the wind. He felt the strange sensation that he was being watched, though there was no civilization for miles around.

It omitted a heavy floral scent that burned Hiroshi's nose. He rationed it couldn't be his friends: Takuro was…he would never use perfume. That would be so…awkward. And Nikoru wasn't the type to fancy that stuff; she was a tomboy.

Again, Hiroshi didn't believe in superstitions or fate, but he could admit there was something…off putting about the house. Maybe it was the fact that the manor had apparently been built decades, even centuries ago…and it was pristine. There was no erosion, no splintering, no chips in the paint. The house looked practically plastic.

"Why did I even agree to come?" Hiroshi grumbled dismissively as he turned and started back down the path to the highway. "You two have fun investigating, however I am going home. This is not how I want to spend my Sunday evening—I've got an exam in the morning!"

"No, no, come on!" Nikoru ran after him, tugging on his arm and then his scarf. "You're already agreed to come here! If I'm going in, so are you!" She tripped over a board that was probably broken off from one of the upstairs shutters and choked Hiroshi with the scarf. She straightened quickly and loosened it around his neck. "Sorry about that."

Hiroshi scowled. "That's all right, but this adventure is discontinued!" His decision stood firm and he kept moving forward. "I have better things to do."

"But it's haunted!" Takuro exclaimed, following him and motioning at the front door.

"Haunted!" Hiroshi scoffed and whipped his falling scarf back around his neck. He turned around to face them with a sour glare. "Is this how low you've sunk? How old are you? Is this because of those idiots in the Ghost Hunter club? It was a hoax! There are no such things as ghosts, they're just scapegoats for the insane!" And he started back down the path again.

He had known Takuro Takashita and Nikoru Hanabusa since they were kids, and he had witnessed them doing some pretty stupid things. But this, this was just beyond all of that. They had their moments, but this was ridiculous! Ghosts and haunted manors? How childish!

As well as being the curious sort, they were both very virtuoso and athletic. Takuro was sang alto and was lead guitar in the academy rock band. He was also quarterback of the football team and one of the best batters on the baseball team. Nikoru was the lead vocalist of the band and enjoyed playing soccer. Secretly, Hiroshi envied their skills, but he had one thing to be proud of: His intelligence. He himself was envied by most of the student body for his legendary wit. Takuro and Nikoru were skater kids: Vacant and distant at times, but prepared and clever at the right moment.

But no matter how much he loved them, it amazed Hiroshi how such a short underachiever and an athletic idiot could be placed on such high pedestals at the academy.

"Come on!" Nikoru whined. "HiroshiPEN, don't deny me, man! I'll be your best friend!"

"You already are," Hiroshi grumbled.

"Then I'll be your better friend!"

"I'm right here, dude," Takuro called blandly.

"If you sincerely want to be my 'better' friend," Hiroshi started, turning back to her, "then let's leave and I'll help you with you homework so that you could finish it for once."

"Come on!" Nikoru groaned, sniffing pleadingly in the cold. "Hiroshi, you're already here, so please! I'll love you forever!"

Hiroshi blushed and tried his best to maintain an indifferent air. He would ignore this feeling at all costs. She would never feel the same way, he had told himself time and time again. She was too lazy for him to date anyway, and they'd never get along: Nikoru would skip work to watch the new James Bond movie, and Hiroshi would scold her. They'd argue until Nikoru would huff a curse word and storm out of the house. Then Hiroshi would sit and wonder when she'd return, if she did.

Damn, why was he so worried about that now? He worked himself up over most things…

"Dude, Hiroshi, Mika's comin'." Takuro said. "I wanna look good for her! Help me impress her, HiroshiPEN!"

Hiroshi hesitated and ground his teeth. Takuro was obsessed with that girl.

Mika Anzai, Takuro, Nikoru, and Hiroshi had been friends since freshman year. Hiroshi also saw her daily in the Cram School Committee after school. She was the least superficial of any prep girl Hiroshi had ever met and he respected her quite a lot. She was kind, caring, and diligent. It was hard to find such a sweet girl in the world these days. She was also the secretary of Student Council under Hiroshi himself, who stood as President for the senior class.

Listening to Takruo speak about Mika, the girl he admitted to loving at first sight, so ardently made Hiroshi squirm. As much as he hated admitting he wanted to stay…he did. If Takuro could impress Mika by investigating a 'haunted house,' then certainly Hiroshi could do the same for Nikoru.

Nikoru's grip on his arm burned through his heavy jacket. "Satō said he wants to come. Or something like that, but he seemed interested."

Hiroshi's heart dropped. Just hearing that name made him want to punch somebody, preferably he-who-Hiroshi-would-rather-die-than-name (Satō). He was in over his head and meddling with affairs he would do better to have left alone. Nikoru was so incredibly oblivious to other people's feelings that she failed to realize he wanted to use her.

Satō had been hitting on her since early sophomore year. He had the most obvious 'crush' on her and literally everyone but Nikoru noticed. And who wouldn't like him? He was popular, the lead pitcher on the baseball team, he got amazing grades (not as outstanding as Hiroshi's), and he was a generous youth whom even the older women loved. The elderly dotted on him all he was every teacher's pet.

But for whatever reason, Nikoru apparently didn't think of him as anything else besides a good friend. She even admired Hiroshi more than she did Satō, which provided some comfort for Hiroshi.

But dammit, why did just that name piss Hiroshi off? At least Hiroshi wasn't superficial; Satō was transparent. Girls referred to him as a 'harlequin boy' and claimed he was so amazing it was too good to be true. And indeed it was: He was cruel and sort of a sadist. He ruled his home, over his parents, and over the weak students who he bludgeoned for money. He devised schemes and practiced them on the poor or used them for revenge.

He was a spoiled rich kid with no supervision. He had his own gang. A small one, but none the less a gang. They keyed cars and stole from broken in homes. And, of course, since his family was so far up on the scale his antics were kept out of the newspapers. But Hiroshi wasn't stupid. He could sense the distortion in the atmosphere when that player was around.

Hiroshi wondered every day, how does no one else see what's going on? Then he'd remind himself; Satō was in the untouchable clique, the money clique, and the clique that no one questioned because they 'ruled society.' It wasn't fair.

Hiroshi wished he could tell Nikoru and Takuro, but there was conflict. Takuro and Nikoru had the same homeroom as Satō and they liked him well. As well they should—Takuro couldn't tell the difference between a turtle and a tortoise and Nikoru…Well, she couldn't tell the difference between friendship and love. They became an athletic trio in no time; Satō earned their trust easily.

And as well as being incredibly oblivious, Nikoru was also naïve and could see good in everyone. Once someone had earned her favor she could never dislike them. She was good at keeping her ridiculously horrible temper at bay so she didn't lose many friends; unless they took her busybody actions the wrong way and took them as rude and insulting.

Satō lost his grandfather the first week of freshman year. Hiroshi had told Nikoru he felt something was wrong, but she had taken pity on Satō and scolded Hiroshi. Hiroshi dropped the subject and hadn't started any conversation about Satō with either her or Takuro, who played on the same ball team as Satō. They were pals.

Hiroshi scowled at himself; Thinking the way he did always put him in a bad mood. But could he honestly help it if that damned Satō burned him with—dare he even think it?—jealousy?

"Hey, HiroshiPEN, you look sick."

Hiroshi blinked, relieved he could clear his head. Nikoru nudged him. "Yes, I'm fine. Just a little cold." Then he set his attention on Takuro and snapped, "If you're going to be difficult, then I'll be nice, but just this once! Don't become accustomed to it, you idiot."

Takuro flashed toothy grin and nodded. "Cool dude! Thanks!"

"Yoo-hoo!"

Turning, Hiroshi discovered Mika and Satō strolling up the path with two extra: that blonde kid…well, he was from the Ghost Hunter Club, Hiroshi knew that, and that new student, Naoki Kimura, was walking in-step beside him. Takeshi looked a little stiff and awkward, seemingly shrinking away from Naoki, who looked totally at ease.

Though the blonde kid and Hiroshi had attended the same schools since seventh grade, Hiroshi still didn't know much about him. He was just some blonde kid with a rather large nose. As for Naoki, he was an interesting character. He appeared to be bi, or maybe he just liked teasing Hiroshi because it made him laugh to see him irritated. He had been attending the Academy for almost a month now and had taken an immediate liking to Hiroshi. Naoki appeared to be a pretty down to earth kid, and Hiroshi supposed liked him rather well.

But over the course of the last several weeks, Hiroshi had started to notice Naoki and Nikoru were a little awkward when they were within proximity of each other. He couldn't explain it, but they had some tension between them.

Nikoru backed away or tried to ignore him—out of character for such an outgoing spirit. Naoki didn't seem to mind. In fact, Hiroshi could even say he was in a lot better mood when they weren't around each other.

It had Hiroshi worried. When Nikoru was around, Naoki chatted enthusiastically with every soul who walked his way, complimenting Hiroshi on his scarf and dotting on him where others could hear. When Naoki was gone, Nikoru behaved freely and cracked jokes constantly. There was definitely something strange there. Even Takuro and Mika had become excessively aware of him after they noticed the drastic change in behaviors.

Takuro was immediately on his feet. He greeted Satō, who returned his gesture with a few words Hiroshi didn't quite catch. Hiroshi scowled at them.

Don't trust him, you idiot! Hiroshi thought belligerently. He's using you!

"Hey, babe!" Takuro and Mika hugged and kissed. The blonde kid covered his eyes and turned the other way, trembling as if he were struggling not to cry.

Naoki's grin turned slightly into a grimace when he glanced at Nikoru seated on the manor steps beside Hiroshi. Ignoring Naoki, she stood and hugged Mika, then greeted the blonde kid with a noogie. Hiroshi thought she might scare him away, but he didn't make any attempt to save himself. He greeted Mika back when she called to him and he nodded at Naoki who smiled again in return.

The blonde shuddered when Mika's hand touched his shoulder. She said, "Hey, guys! You know Takeshi Sasaki, right?"

Takuro laughed and ruffled the blonde's hair. "Yeah, you're that Math Club kid!"

"Uh, Ghost Hunter Club…" Takeshi murmured timidly.

"Yeah!" Takuro slapped his back and nodded enthusiastically.

Hiroshi nodded, too, with sharp courtesy. He glanced at Nikoru and watched proudly as she high-fived Mika for complimenting her new orange Nikes. She greeted everyone but kept her back to Naoki. Hiroshi suddenly felt uneasy.

"And Naoki!" Takuro shook his hand, but the movement was stiff. "What's up?"

Naoki shrugged. "Not much. Mika was talking about having a haunted adventure, and I thought it might be fun to tag along. Thought it would give me something to do for the weekend." He glanced at Nikoru and then smiled flirtatiously at Hiroshi. "All long as Hiroshi-kun there doesn't mind!"

Hiroshi almost gagged. "'Kun?' Don't kid yourself, Kimura."

Naoki smiled wider. "I live for that!"

Nikoru made a gag face behind his back. Hiroshi barely had time to notice before she was still again and rubbing her eye.

"Ah, Nikoru!" Satō exclaimed, walking to her side. Hiroshi bit his cheek, keeping himself in check and fighting the urge to rip one of the plastic-like shutters and smack Satō with it. "Fancy seeing you here, huh?"

Nikoru smiled again and Bro-fisted him. "Yeah, I didn't think you'd actually be coming."

Satō's eyes lowered to her chest for a minute—Hiroshi noted this lividly—but he disguised it with a pitiful excuse for a cough. "Of course I did! I told you I would. But excuse me, it seems I've caught a slight cold."

Nikoru smiled compassionately. Fool! Hiroshi wanted to scream. Don't you dare believe him for an instant!

"Satō!" Takura exclaimed, "Did you really make the Harvard Scholar Roll?"

Oh, Hiroshi hoped not. That was a big honor, a scholarship for math whizzes and top notch lawyer-like people. It was a scholarship for the truly intelligent. Hiroshi knew as a fact that he was way smarter than Satō Aoki and could take him out in any subject any day.

And Hiroshi had tons of collages fighting for him. Maybe if Harvard were fighting for him, too, he wouldn't feel so anxious. He was beginning to wish Nikoru had never met Satō—and sighed regretfully. Had he really sunken that low? There wasn't any point in acting so selfish and covetous anyway; if anyone had the right to be jealous, it was Satō. Hiroshi slumped and silently cursed himself.

I'm being so childish! Get a grip, Hiroshi. You're the better man here! At least you're actually cement…

Satō chuckled cordially, "Now where did you hear that?" Damn him for being so popular and good looking.

"You've gotta be kidding! The entire school's talking about it!"

"Takuro, don't flatter him!" Mika interjected. "His head will swell!"

Everyone laughed at that, except for Hiroshi and the still awkward Takeshi. After everyone had sobered, Nikoru was the first to speak: "It's seven thirty, guys." She sniffed avidly and shrugged in the direction of the front door as she slid her hands in her jeans' pockets. "So, we goin' in?"

"We goin' in," Takuro confirmed, and he took hold of Mika's hand as they started up the steps.

Hiroshi sighed and stood just as Naoki reached the third step. He bounced on his heels and linked his arm with Hiroshi's. Satō smirked behind them and dragged Takeshi up the stairs with him. Takeshi whimpered and gripped the sling of his frog backpack tighter, mushing his lips into a line. But Hiroshi didn't notice any of that; he only had eyes for Nikoru's back as she kicked down the door and strolled inside with her handy-dandy pack of neon glowsticks poking out of her Adidas jacket's pocket.

This was going to be a long night. And, little did they know, a night that would be engraved in their minds.

Forever.

Xxx

By the way…the band—singing and guitar—have a purpose in this story. Don't worry, this isn't a musical! Think The Goonies, guys, particularly the part with the piano. I wouldn't add something to a character if it didn't have any sole purpose!