Note: This is the Part two of the story We Met Again written by Rachael and Melissa. This story is the official sequel to the story We Met in Hogwarts. We strongly recommend that readers read the original first, but it's not entirely necessary. Please make sure to visit our site at .

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Chapter 1: The Recommencement

Chibiusa sighed dolefully as she pushed the school top over her head, getting her long hair in a mess. Once she’d adjusted the collar, she freed her matted hair and took to brushing it hastily. The cool weather wasn’t helping it: it was fuzzy and untameable. She decided to leave it in a high ponytail rather than dwelt with the painful process of doing it up in two cone-buns.

The other night she had met Hotaru in her dreams, a meeting organized by her beloved Elios, who didn’t want her to be in absence of her first real friend. The Princess of Saturn was doing well, soon to attend the city’s annual Milky Way ball, where they would skate on a road of stars. It was quite a spectacle, even for such a beautiful, gratuitous establishment such as Crystal Tokyo. Hotaru had nearly mentioned the King and Queen, but Chibiusa had quickly cut her off to avoid it. She didn’t want to know.

Elios had sighed softly but not pushed her into contacting her parents. But he did say that he loved her and that if she was ever feeling sad, she need but contact him through her heart. He was always there. She knew he’d always be in her heart, her one, true love, only second in friendship to Hotaru herself.

---

Draco’s day started out rather mundanely. He had woken up, showered, dressed and coolly made his way to the kitchen for breakfast. He groaned irately as he glared into the refrigerator. Foreign Muggle food. Foreign Muggle fridge. So much Foreigness! So much Muggleness! He sighed and grabbed a can of “Cola Pop Fizz”, closed the door and snapped the can open. He chugged its contents down and tossed the can on the floor as he strode off to the living room in search of a certain raven-haired beauty.

Upon leaving he faintly heard the familiar ‘Unchi!’ and ‘Shonen Baka!’ of Nanako and Akira, the housemaids.

The three sat in their usual spots in the living room, reading owls, letters and watching the news. Syaoran looked up from the coach. Nanako’s outbursts of vulgarity usually signalled that Draco was present.

‘…Malfoy…’

‘Li.’ Draco replied shortly, looking around noticing that the only other people in the room were Ron and Harry.

‘Hey, Rat-face…did you chuck your pop can on the floor again?’ Ron smirked, pointing at the kitchen with his thumb.

‘Shut up!’ Draco snapped, turning away and ignoring Ron. It was true. It was carbonated beverages for breakfast everyday. And sometimes he did not care enough to actually use the garbage. After all, that’s what he did at home. Well, not pop cans. They did not have those back home. Yet, he did make a mess. Then the halfwit house elves would trot along fearfully picking up his trash and often begging for more things to do. Of course, this was beside the point.

‘Where’s –?’

‘Meiling?’ Syaoran grumbled, fumbling with his school tie. He still could not adjust to Malfoy and his cousin so painfully close. Sadly enough, he had no control over the situation. ‘Outside.’

‘What’s going on out there?’ Draco wondered aloud, as he approached a window to look out.

‘Trunks is teaching her to fly. I daresay she’s rather good on her first attempt.’ Harry said flicking through the channels with the remote controller.

‘Maybe because she’s got such a magnificent teacher…’ Ron began, smirking once more.

‘I thought I told you to shut up!’ Draco snapped and made way to the front door. He did not hesitate to go outside and see for himself what was going on. Another one of Trunks’ so called ‘Flying Lessons’! He could not take this nonsense anymore. He stomped into the backyard and there he saw Tomoyo eagerly videotaping Meiling, and Hermione sitting under the tree cheering her on while brushing her hair.

‘Like this?’

‘Exactly!’ Trunks exclaimed, ‘Remember what I told you before— let all the energy out. Control that power within you and allow it to lift you higher and don’t lose the concentration…’

Meiling nodded, gusts of aura breezing around her, as in a matter of seconds, she was levitating upwards. In no time she was in midair, and flying around. Draco glared at her airborne body and then at the lavender haired freak bouting her on.

‘You’re doing it Mei! Keep it up!’

‘Hello Draco!’ Meiling called from the air, waving to her heated blond lover.

Draco glared at her and stomped off into the house.

---

Something had passed the corner of Chibiusa’s eye; she quickly glanced out the window. The same thing again: Meiling flailing her arms clumsily as she attempted to fly. She must have gotten up early, before six-thirty, because she was already dressed in the uniform, her hair done up in its usual “copycat” style, writhing about in the air unsuccessfully. Trunks had taken to teaching the “underprivileged” members of the Phoenix Fighters to concentrate their chi, enabling them to fly, considering that they lacked in magic.

It irritated Chibiusa. She could fly better, even though she couldn’t even fly. She hoped that Tomoyo would be more successful, because Meiling didn’t deserve to fly. Meiling had also started learning how to concentrate energy into blasts, and had set Chibiusa’s hair alight too often to prevent suspicion.

Meiling flew by once more, surprisingly with a hint of refinement. So did the four owls and Kero-chan. Chibiusa rolled her eyes as she headed down the hallway to go have breakfast. The morning’s events were very different from that of her home in Crystal Tokyo. It was much simpler. She didn’t have to be manhandled by her personal servants to bathe, dress her and do her hair. She was respectfully free. Harry came out in front of her, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and reapplying his glasses. Dressed in the uniform, he turned and gave her a pleasant smile. He was much kinder than the other boys.

‘Good morning,’ he said just as Tomoyo came out of the room beside his, fully dressed, her hair done back in a pretty French braid. She smiled at both of them.

‘French toast today?’ she asked.

‘In a French mood this morning, are we?’ Harry teased.

Tomoyo giggled softly and winked. ‘Only if you want.’

Harry backed up slightly, looking a bit shy and indecisive.

Chibiusa smiled to herself and followed them down the stairs. They were getting notably closer each day, but neither seemed to realize the other’s feelings. It reminded her of Elios and herself, long ago … she shrugged off the thought and entered the living room to indulge in zabuton-sitting and French toast-eating. About half an hour passed and everyone hurried inside to put on his or her shoes. Syaoran ruffled up his hair, as it looked best messy, Hermione fussed over the wrinkles in Ron’s top as Draco brushed stray strands of fair hair from his face, checking himself in the reflection of a compact mirror (where had he gotten that from?). His hair had been always been slicked back, but Meiling had convinced him he would be cuter with it combed out in front of his face for a change. They were all ready to leave, Meiling just getting through the front door from her morning flight-training, Kero and owls following.

‘Can I call Suppi-chan, today?’ Kero asked Tomoyo.

Tomoyo smiled. ‘Of course you can. There are no expenses for friendship. But be careful. The maids are coming back in this afternoon. Akira will be readily at work, cleaning the study.’

Kero pumped his tiny arms and smirked. ‘I am the master of enigma!’

‘And meal on wheels!’ Diana exclaimed as she chased after the bumbling four flying beasts, Chi-Chi yapping after them.

‘Can you imagine your maids finding all these feathers, fur and droppings in the house?’ Hermione asked Tomoyo.

‘That’s right. We haven’t cleaned it in weeks,’ Tomoyo said thoughtfully.

‘Opportune,’ Meiling said and the girls smiled.

‘Just like Weasley’s, only far larger,’ Draco said absently.

‘Not now, Rat Boy,’ Harry groused.

Draco sniffed, Ron grinned and Syaoran smiled slightly.

‘They will puzzle over whether pet owls are legal, though,’ Tomoyo mused.

‘You can hide them in my room, if you want,’ Ron offered.

‘Thank you, Ron,’ Tomoyo said as he grinned.

Ron nudged Harry, who adjusted his glasses and didn’t look Tomoyo’s way. He was being shy again. It was adorable to note all the amusing interactions between people. Hermione fixed her hair quickly. Meiling flung one pigtail over her shoulder, looking haughtily at Chibiusa who was still putting on her shoes. She ignored her.

Chibiusa was finished putting on her shoes and as she stood, brushed her head lightly against Trunks’ arm. She stood up rigidly and edged away. Trunks looked at her with a blank expression and went to pick up his book-bag. He was always looking at her. She didn’t know what to make of him. He must have been a pervert … the way he stared at her, and the way he was so outrageously erotically inclined. But there were times when she felt something gentle emit from him. His clear eyes met hers once more before he reached the knob and opened the door.

‘We’re all set?’ Tomoyo asked.

‘Yes!’ everyone chorused.

‘Ok, here we go …’

They all headed out the door, down the path and towards the front gate. Suddenly, something of a realization fell over them. They stopped and turned dauntingly towards the house. A prolonged sigh could be heard from all of them.

‘Sakura,’ Syaoran groaned.

Chibiusa followed him swiftly. They huddled into the room to find Sakura sound asleep in bed, her hair spread around her face like an ornate fan of gold. Sakura was very pretty, and sometimes reminded her of Mako, Sailor Jupiter, with the similar eye-colour, hair-colour and enthusiasm. Except she was much more feminine than the tall sailor soldier.

‘Sakura,’ Syaoran said softly, touching her face. Sakura’s eyes squinted as her mouth wound in a small grimace. ‘Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. We’ll be late.’

Sakura’s eyes fluttered open and she stared up at them impassively. She blinked and sat up stiffly. ‘Oh no! Kero-chan didn’t wake me up!’

‘You need more than three alarm clocks,’ Meiling said observantly.

Sakura nodded gingerly and threw back the covers. ‘I’m on it!’

‘Ehem,’ Chibiusa felt she needed to clarify, ‘Sakura’s about to get dressed …’

Draco, Ron, Harry, Trunks and Syaoran went slightly pink and scuttled out of the room. Tomoyo and the others volunteered in dressing Sakura, since she kept fumbling for the hairbrush and school tie and blazer. Once they dressed her, they crammed a breakfast bar down her throat, shoved on her shoes and coat and rushed out the door, Tomoyo and Syaoran gripping her hands as they hurried out towards the school.

It seemed rather hectic a morning. But it was like this everyday. It was ordinary, typical and routine and it was actually rather comfortable. Chibiusa was only there about a week now, but she felt like she had known everyone for so much longer.

It was a considerably warm day in comparison to when she had first arrived there. Being the first week of March, the cherry blossoms were now budding on trees that had been bare for months.

They arrived at school as was the daily ritual and went to their homerooms. Chibiusa sat at her usual spot to the left side of the room near the windows, where she would often gaze out when the teacher was calling the role. She had the same homeroom as Trunks, who had tried to sit near her once … but had failed once she had accused him of being a stalker. The teacher had requested he sit near the front to keep a close eye on him.

That first period that morning they would be going down to the science labs to make honeycomb as a treat for the second week back. It was her worse nightmare that the teacher would assign her and Trunks to be lab partners. Despite it being a “treat” and a simple exercise, she hated it! It was not just the simple fact that he happened to be really good at comprehending mathematics and science while she dreaded both subjects. No. It was the knowing he’d find some way of being perverted, and she would scream at him. This time, he found it in the brown sugar that they applied to the concoction.

‘You’re as sweet as sugar,’ he said in a very sly way, making her go bright red. ‘But you know, you have a real bad temper. Why don’t I just put you right into this Bunsen and simmer you? Maybe that’d make you calm down, and end your permanent PMS.’

Before she could restrain herself, Chibiusa rounded on him. ‘How DARE you, you disgusting, sickening freak!’ She flailed her arms and knocked the bag of citric acid into the Bunsen burner. Before she knew what had occurred there was a “pop” followed by a “bang-splat!” The entire room was covered with a yellow, sticky substance that stunk up the entire room with a sickly sugary scent. Trunks, whose face was shining gold with the substance, gave her a disgruntled look.

‘CHIBA! BRIEFS!’ Toyota-Sensei, their teacher, roared. ‘I REALIZE YOU’RE QUITE NEW TO THIS WAY OF WORKING BUT THIS IS RIDICULOUS!’ Toyota took out a handkerchief and wiped her face roughly. ‘You’re going to clean this all up after class.’

Trunks glared at Chibiusa, who was still angry, bright pink. What a wonderful start to the school day.

---

It was now lunch break, and still Trunks couldn’t believe the nerve of that girl. He was just teasing her a bit; after all, it was true what he’d said! But then she had to go and get him into trouble. They’d spent all of the second period cleaning up, making them miss English studies. The teacher wouldn’t be pleased on Monday. He walked down the hall on his way to the cafeteria, where he was to meet up with Takashi, who had said he wanted to talk to him about something important. As he ambled along, he glanced out the window and something caught his eye. A peculiar black bird with beady amethyst eyes was perched on the tall fence separating Seijou High from Tomeda elementary. With slight suspicion, Trunks decided to get a closer look. He opened the nearest door and dashed onto the school grounds when suddenly…

‘Yo, head’s up dude!’

Trunks spun around and caught the football just as it whooshed towards him with proximity. It went “poomph” as he caught it steadily in his hands. He stared down at it curiously as the football team ran over, their mouths ajar.

‘Whoa, dude!’ one of them gasped. ‘You’re good!’

Trunks blinked. ‘I am?’

A short, muscular man, who was evidently the coach, came rushing over to him with a definite look in his eyes. ‘That’s it! You’re our next star!’

Trunks inclined his head. He was their next “star”?

‘How does quarterback sound?’ he continued.

‘But coach!’ another groaned. ‘I’m the quarterback! Isn’t that a bit too quick a decision? I mean, all he did was catch the ball …’

‘Hush up, boy! I know what I’m doing!’ he retorted, silencing the boy.

Trunks chuckled nervously. What was “quarterback”?

---

The morning was a mild one. It was finally getting warm, and Syaoran liked this a lot since he was strongly opposed to any cold weather.

He and the others got to school on time that morning; Syaoran kissed Sakura on the cheek and then he, Ron, Draco, and Trunks met up with Takashi, Smee and Fondu. Draco had disappeared, but no one really noticed.

They stood in the halls talking for a while, discussing their classes and what had occurred that week. Soon the bell had rung and it was time for morning classes to begin.

Soon enough, they had arrived at school. He departed from the group and trailed behind the fellow guys. When he was very much out of sight, he found an empty corridor. With a finger, he again swept his bangs from his eyes and examined the redness formed on the left side of his neck. This was making him grumpy all morning. It was painful and he had an inkling he knew what it meant. Suddenly, he heard the bell ring. Groaning irately, he shoved the compact mirror in his pocket and headed to his first class.

---

Ron loved Seijou High School. He was still excited about the difference between Hogwarts and Muggle school. With every passing day there always seemed to be some strange new surprise about the Muggle world he never knew before. (He was even especially excited when they used what he called, “compootors” for the first time. He could not understand why Muggles called the controlling device a mouse, since it clearly did not look like one. Takashi could not understand how Ron had managed to live for so long without hearing of a computer before. He determined that Ron truly needed to get out more, far away from that odd, rigid British boarding school.) There was even a slight bounce in his step as Harry, Takashi, Fondu, Smee and himself approached their third class. Physical Education. Today it was in a classroom because they were studying sex education. Ron wondered how “Sex” could be legally taught in school. Fondu and Smee promised it would be a worthwhile lesson, so Ron was rather anxious to meet the one teaching the subject. Mitsubishi-sensei, their regular teacher was absent that day. Harry on the other hand was sickened by the whole deal, as he had a feeling sex education was not what Ron suspected it was.
Once they had arrived, Ron took his regular seat between Smee and Harry.

Smee was a mild sort of guy. He had dark brown hair, with natural beige highlights that barely met his shoulders. He was an overly nice person, but he could often be mistaken for a girl at first glance. Fondu, who they later discovered to be Smee’s elder half brother (by 9 months), was very boyish in appearance and had shorter, darker, messier hair and sharp eyebrows. They both made an interesting pair, since despite their contrasting looks; they both shared identical deep indigo eyes and a slight tendency to be rebellious.

After several more minutes passed, the class door creaked open. Every single boy in the room had abruptly stopped speaking and each of their heads jerked up to find a striking, young woman enter the room. She was dressed in a loose t-shirt marked “Seijou” with the typical Seijou High school crest and her hair was tied back in a long, deep-brown ponytail, secured with a bright red ribbon. She approached the front of the room and smiled at the class.

‘Hello,’ she began, ‘My name is Datsun-Sensei. I will be in for Mitsubishi-Sensei who is away today.’

Many of the guys nudged each other and gave each other knowing looks. Some others looked very nervous and uncomfortable. Ron grinned and smiled at Harry. Harry looked about to throw up.

Running a hand through his fair red hair Ron made a glance towards Smee who seemed unusually out of place.

‘Hey what’s the matter Smeigal?’

Smee turned up his nose and whispered, ‘I don’t want Datsun teaching us in this class. It’s going to be so strange.’

Ron looked confused. ‘Why? She seems rather attractive.’
Smee looked at Ron and shook his head, ‘Well sure, but it’s going to be so uncomfortable. It’s far more sensible to have a teacher of the same gender discussing this.’
Ron who was confused now became sickened and gave Harry a brief glance.

‘Harry,’ he whispered, ‘I think Smee may be gay!’

Harry did not even bother to second think it when he replied a callous, ‘Oh? Like Weirdo-Whomo-Whore-Waldo?’
Ron’s spirit sank and he turned to face the front.

---

Syaoran stared up at the board avidly, paying every bit of attention to the lesson with a raised arm. School was a breeze. He could absorb every calculation and lecture within a matter of seconds, not to mention that this was also his most beloved subject.

‘Li?’

‘The answer to the quadratic relation is 45.2, Daihatsu-Sensei!’ Syaoran said with great confidence.

‘Excellent.’ The teacher grinned, scribbling the answer on the board.

Syaoran nodded while he cracked his knuckles and returned a confident smile. Yep. This was how class was everyday. He came in, sat down at his desk in the middle row of the class, and when the teacher taught a lesson, he raised his hand and answered correctly.

‘All right now, it is time to work independently. Page 121, questions 1 to 50.’ Daihatsu instructed as he turned and sat down at his large, wooden desk.

Syaoran got out his leaflet of paper and a pencil and got ready to write, but then there came the familiar poke in the back. With a groan, he turned his head and there she was once again.

‘Yes, Hanna?’

This was something else that happened everyday. He did not know what it was about her. Whether it was blueness of her eyes, the pinkness of her lip-gloss, the blondness of her hair or even the whiteness of her teeth. But it irritated him. A lot. It was frustrating. Painful even.

And then she did what she did everyday. She blinked those large blue eyes, batted those long eyelashes, and smiled that large, “beautiful” smile and spoke innocently in that sickeningly, cute diabetic-inducing voice.

‘Sorry to bother you, but I really need help. What’s the answer to number two?’

Syaoran rolled his eyes and sighed again. ‘92.’ And then he turned his head and resumed his own work. Now it was time for the countdown. 5 … 4 … 3 … 2 …

‘Li-kun!’

Right on time.

‘Yes, Hanna? What is it?’ Syaoran repeated, turning his head with that slight twitch of an eye that came with great annoyance.

‘I’m sorry to bother you again, but can you explain how you got that answer?’

Syaoran sighed and then began to explain hastily. ‘You examine the equation given, and then find the square root of—’ then he stopped as he looked at her. There she sat, gazing at him adoringly, paying more attention to his face than to what was actually being spoken. ‘Excuse me, but … are you even listening to what I’m saying?’

Daffodil blushed with a quick brush-back of a stray strand of her bright hair. Sometimes Syaoran questioned if the colour was natural.

‘I’m so sorry, Syaoran, but I just get so distracted by your good looks. Has anyone ever told you that you have gorgeous eyes?’

That was too straightforward even for her. Syaoran glared at her, blushingly slightly. ‘Yes. Plenty. And please don’t call me “Syaoran”. It’s very informal.’

She pouted irritably like a small, pampered child. She drove him crazy, in a bad way. She was literally “blonde”! He turned around and faced the front. He’d had enough for one day. He did not even bother to turn around the 15 other times she prodded him in the back. It was far too routine.

He could still reluctantly hear the giggles from Rika and Chiharu two rows down. It was great that he was in a class where at least there were two people he was comfortable talking with, but they did not help the situation much at all. Syaoran groaned and hoped the others weren’t suffering nearly as much as he was.

---

Draco glared up at the chalkboard as Mr. Nissan scribbled onto the board.

‘Now can anyone tell me what “neko” is in English? Narokanora Botan?’

‘Uh…dog?’

‘No…’

Draco rolled his eyes at this. Such imbeciles. He still could not understand why he had to take English. He knew English! He was English! Why, in his mind, he practically invented the language! He groaned as he watched the others totally screw up on every second guess or so with simple words and simple sentences. He prodded the table with his pen as he glared harder into the chalkboard. Twenty minutes had passed, and Nissan went back to scribbling other random pieces of useless phrases on the board. Draco had given up on making notes days ago and decided he would not do anything at all. So the teacher was scolding him, reminding him that just because he was a new student, he was not getting a break from class participation. Draco nodded, but he did not care. He knew that if he wanted to, he could curse the ground that Nissan stood on and turn him into a toad.

Draco groaned, because he knew without checking, that all eyes were still on him. Many of the students still could not seem to accept the fact that he was from England or even his pale hair colour. Maybe it was the fact that he stood out like a black sheep that made them continue to stare at him throughout the remainder of class and until the ringing of the bell.

---

The guys met up in the cafeteria. Ron, Harry, Takashi, and Fondu talked intently about their day. They had just finished their computer class.

‘Hey guys! Smee’s so cool!’ Ron chimed, ‘He taught me everything about those compooters! I think I can finally figure out how to successfully type my name now!’

Harry and Takashi turned red, straining not to laugh

‘Hey, hey. I wouldn’t get too close to Smee if I were you.’ Fondu grinned, turning to wink at Ron.

‘Why not?’ Ron wanted to know. Smee was such a pleasant person that he could not see what could possibly be the harm in his friendship.

Takashi laughed, ‘He plays both fields, Weasley!’

‘He plays rugby..?’

‘Er...you could say that.’ Fondu chuckled giving Takashi a secret smile.

Takashi started chuckling too. ‘Sure hope he doesn’t play rugby with me though!’

Harry gave them both a sickened look. ‘Does that all mean, what I think it means?’

Takashi pointed his index finger in the air, ‘It depends. What do you think it means?’

Ron looked mystified at this when suddenly Smee had returned with his lunch.

‘Hey I’m here!’ Smee twittered as he sat down with the others. Harry inched away, and eyed him cautiously.

‘Hey there, player!’ Fondu greeted, putting an arm around his brother.

‘So how did you like that, health class?’ Harry began in attempt at diverting the conversation away from Smee before it started.

‘It was alright today,’ Smee grinned maliciously, ‘Ah…the miracle of life.’

Fondu nodded perversely, ‘Reproduction!’

Takashi grinned, ‘Yes! That’s what the teacher said. But did you know that the ancient nomads of Manila used to impregnate themselves
by—’

‘Don’t even go there!’ Harry interrupted, definitely not wanting to hear more any more.

‘Well I really thought Sex Education was something different.’ Ron muttered, blushing slightly.

‘Don’t worry,’ Fondu began, patting him on the shoulder, ‘All us, guys, share that disappointment when we realize that it isn’t what we thought it was.’

‘I’m more less relieved.’ Ron muttered, starting on his lunch.

Fondu clearly enjoyed it vigorously, whereas Harry and Ron flustered.

‘I never realized there were so much details involved,’ Ron added sickly. ‘I mean, sure, I get the part about the insertion, but then … what goes on inside …’

‘Ron!’ Harry exclaimed in disgust. ‘Nobody wants to hear it!’

Ron blushed slightly. ‘Well, it’s not like we haven’t …’

‘You and that Granger girl, eh, Ron?’ Smee said with a nudge and a wink. Fondu and Smee seemed to be enjoying some large inside joke.

Ron went an even deeper red. ‘Yes! What’s the big deal! Isn’t it expected that we –’

‘Shut it, Ron!’ Harry cried. He was glad that Draco wasn’t there to hear it all: he’d never leave Ron alone.

Smee and Fondu chuckled heartily as Trunks approached them. They all turned around to greet him.

‘Hey there, we were discussing Sex Ed,’ Fondu explained to him as he sat down. ‘Ron here …’

Harry quickly intervened. ‘Nothing!’

Takashi gave a sly look at Ron, who looked away anxiously. ‘Hey, that reminds me …’ He turned to Trunks. ‘We’ll be right back. I need to talk to Trunks about something.’

Harry watched as they walked over to a table nearby. He also noticed that as Chibiusa walked by them, Trunks gawked after her. Amusing.

---

Tomoyo sighed once more as she felt the gaze of a particular blue-haired boy some distance away. Sakura smiled at him and continued to copy notes.

‘Kacheek-san is quite fond of you.’

‘He’s looking at me again, is he?’ Tomoyo whispered edgily, ‘I don’t know why he’s here anyway. He hates Home Economics.’

Sakura shrugged slightly as she looked thoughtfully at the chalkboard, and then began sketching a quick picture of a small double-layer cake.

‘I wonder how the others are coping…I’m a bit worried for Harry and the others. Our school is really different from anything they’re accustomed to. Draco and Chibiusa seemed especially bitter.’

Tomoyo grinned, sweeping back a lose strand of her wavy hair from her face.

‘I’m sure they’ll do fine. After all, they’re magical beings and I’m sure they’ll get through it.’

Sakura nodded slowly, ‘Yes…’

‘Guraibenu!’ Sanrio squealed, raising his hand but almost jumping out of his seat with what looked like bursting excitement.

Sakura giggled a bit, as this reminded her of Hermione.

The teacher, Mazda-Sensei, gave a weary moan and reluctantly turned to address him.

‘Kacheek-san?’

‘I could not refrain from pondering if, we, in the future, will be examining the scientific dissimilitude of the baked provisions we shall be concocting.’

A small frown formed on Mazda’s face as she buried her face in her hand.

‘No, Kacheek-san. We will not analyze food. And for the last time, we do not concoct cakes, we mix cakes Analyzing is for chemistry class, I’ve told you this before.’

The rest of the class (primarily girls) giggled as Sanrio groused in displeasure. Tomoyo sighed and continued to write more notes. Once again, Sanrio had signed up for a course just because she was in it. He was never going to quit.

---

Honda-Sensei’s Japanese Language and Calligraphy class had gone on for 45 minutes, but it seemed so much longer.

Up until a few weeks ago, Hermione could not believe there could exist in this world a subject she hated more than Divination. She was a hard-working student, and a great learner. Yet the class was much more than just learning Japanese— it was more of, building upon grammar and handwriting. The first couple days, she survived with out using magic. Time passed though, and try as she may, she was confused, and the more she took the effort to learn the more confused she got. Before long, after war with her conscience, she resulted to using magic once more. Her scores were high, her calligraphy strokes, ideal and she did well. Yet shame haunted her.

Meiling on the other hand was thoroughly pissed off, and her struggle with a new language made her want to crawl into a corner and squelch. Speaking, and learning Japanese was the simple part, but learning to write kanji beyond simple characters, was more than she could handle. After two weeks of Japanese, she began to almost forget her own language. For brief moments she actually become uncertain whether she was actually writing Chinese instead. Sometimes she subconsciously wrote entire articles that were a combination of Chinese and Japanese that confused even her when she tried to reread it. Ron dubbed her new “language” Chipanese, which made her terribly bitter and her desire to possess magical powers just that much greater. She hated Japanese, but she knew English class would be even more difficult.

---

After a long day of Muggle academia, Draco Malfoy paraded down the halls in search of the high school cafeteria. He glared at the glossy linoleum floors, furiously lamenting the absence of the dark corridors, towers and switching staircases of Hogwarts. He was heading to the school cafeteria to eat this so-called “lunch”. No Great Hall. No Slytherin table. No bountiful feasts. No treats from his mother. Draco at times considered sending an owl, pleading for his mother to send real food so he wouldn’t have to eat “rubbish”. But at the same time, he could not take the risk of letting her know where he was…

As he thought of this, he heard a loud chirping of a bird. Draco turned his head— a wide open window revealed the source of the disturbance. There, on a fence dividing Seijou High from Tomeda Elementary, a night-black crow perched, its beady amethyst eyes on him with a hypnotic blaze. Draco did not know what it was, but he knew that this bird was not normal—that it was something almost human. This creature was angry with him. His books fell. Chills latching onto his spine, Draco rubbed his pained neck. Could it be...?

Its eyes glinted red. Suddenly terrified, Draco grabbed his books and ran down the halls, his dress shoes clattering against the floors as he rounded a corner and busted through the main school doors. Now on terrain, he kept running hoping to find a deserted part of the grounds, where he could mull over what he thought he saw. He, however, did not anticipate what he saw next. Standing in the shade of a tree, stood a group of three teenaged boys and a short girl singing softly.

Draco gaped, all air escaping his lungs, as he froze in his tracks. The four teenagers looked up at him with equal surprise.

They were not only completely out of uniform, but were dressed rather oddly. Two of the boys wore long, black robes, and their paled faces were accented with black eye liner. One’s hair was long, blonde and spiky but the other had long slicked hair resembling that of Professor Snape. The third boy was gangly-looking, and wore what seemed to be a brown Victorian suit, a large silver cross necklace dangling from his neck. The girl was the most startling of all. She wore a Victorian-style black dress, complete with a laced up corset. On her legs she wore fishnet stockings trailed by a pair of Mary-Jane platform shoes. Her hair was brought up in long ringlets secured with a frilly headband. Her face was pale, with eyes outlined heavily in black. Her lipstick, bright blue.

After minutes of staring, the four shrugged and continued what they were doing, whether it be smoking, staring into space, reading or singing. Feeling completely embarrassed, Draco turned around and began to walk away.

‘Where are you going?’

Draco froze, sweat dotting the back of his neck, his head turned slowly.

‘Wh-What?’

‘You lost or something?’

Draco noticed that it was the boy that looked like Snape that was speaking to him. All of them looked at him once again.

‘No.’

“Snape” smiled and folded his arms.

‘You must be. Nobody comes way out over here but us.’

Draco blinked, and decidedly told the truth.

‘I wasn’t lost. I just didn’t know people hung out here…’

‘You must be new then. Welcome to Seijou.’ Muttered the spiky haired boy in a husky voice as he tossed his cigarette and crushed it with his toe, before lighting up another.

Draco’s face contorted in further surprise, ‘You…go to school here?’ he spluttered, ‘Then why are you dressed like that?’

‘We’re skipping school today…and this is how we dress. ’

Draco wondered for a moment if this was normal. Then he began to wonder if he should even be there.

‘You’re not from around here. Are you an exchange student?’

‘I guess you could say something like that…’

After another moment of brief silence, the girl put down her headphones and thick magazine entitled “The Gothic Lolita Bible”. She had been staring at Draco with deep interest for a while now, peeking over her book occasionally. But, he never really noticed. Not until now.

‘Your hair is so light and pretty…can I touch it?’

Draco looked at her with a deep loss of words, and before he knew what was happening next, she and two of the other boys were stroking his hair. Draco was so bewildered, he was unable to show the anger he usually felt when “unauthorized” people touched his hair.

‘Wow…that feels cool.’ burbled the girl, her gloved hands clasped together. ‘It’s soft. I wish I had pretty golden hair. Right, Hachi?’

The spiky haired boy in the black robes nodded, ‘It’s so expensive to dye.’

‘Yes, my hair is nice, isn’t it? It’s something we Malfoys are deeply proud of. A true royal trait for a pure-blooded w—’

Draco stopped noticing his accidental slip of information. Yet, they hadn’t noticed and their eyes were still on him with yearning interest, dying to hear more of his story. He decided he should change the subject quickly. ‘—w…well…anyway my name is Draco.’

Mitsu!’ the girl replied instantly squeaked, her voice expectedly as small as she was.

‘Right, Mitsu,’ Draco replied after registering that this was her name, ‘So um…what were you listening to?’

Mitsu seemed to be thinking this question through before finally replying. ‘It’s a mix CD. Malice Mizer, Gackt, Sex Machineguns...it’s Kane’s though. I’m just borrowing it, but we all love them.’

Draco nodded following her finger to the boy he thought looked like Snape.

Kane stroked his chin thoughtfully realizing Draco’s apparent lack of knowledge of Japanese rock bands.

‘So Durako’ he began, a strong Japanese dialect in his speech, ‘…what are you into?’

Draco scratched his head. He couldn’t really recall if he even listened to music but figured he’d take a stab at it, ‘Um... the Weird Sisters…”

Instantly he saw that look of hungry yearning in their eyes, which made him think instantly he must speak before they did.

‘Yeah…they’re really famous back home. Some…really dark stuff. I’ve been to their concerts millions of times. I even met them in person, but of course only a select few get such opportunities.’

He knew it was all a lie, but it sounded good. After all, he only heard them at Hogwarts once. But his story was working, and the four were listening.

‘Well anyway…I better head back inside.’

‘Well, come see us again!’ replied Hachi, waving to him with a cigarette wedged between his fingers.

Draco nodded and left, wondering whether he actually meant it. They went back to their usual selves; smoking, reading, staring and Mitsu singing loudly.

‘Beast of blood! Along with the scream from the death throes…’

After all, they were unique, different, yet somehow familiar. Their smiles were friendly, yet at the same time dark and deeply mysterious.

’Sharp claws are shining brighter, dually obscene breaths continues…’

And although, he knew them very little he knew somehow that they were in a way like him, unlike others with the desire to rebel. Something Draco craved every moment of his life.

’…And rips apart the silence of the night crossing the uplifty life…’

Even their style and their dress, in its odd old-fashioned style, reminded him of the wizarding world he had left behind.

’…get down, limitless night…’

Yes. He thought to himself. I will see you again.

---

Finally they had settled down, and got out their lunches. Trunks dropped his bags onto the bench and his textbooks onto the table.

‘So, how was your day, buddy?’ Takashi asked cheerfully.

Trunks shrugged. ‘The football club want me as quarterback.’

‘NO WAY!’ Takashi exclaimed, pounding his hand on the table.

‘Yeah.’ Trunks said, ‘I haven’t a clue to how to play.’

‘Neither.’ Takashi huffed, subconsciously tapping the table with his fingers, ‘Never played.’

‘Is it really that good a sport if you’ve never played?’ Trunks asked, now suddenly uncertain if this was all a fortune or a curse.

‘No, no!’ Takashi said, no longer tapping the table, ‘It’s great. I mean, the guys on that team are pretty “popular” because you have to be relatively tough, and willing to sustain unnecessary and pointless pain. Of course, everyone knows they’re usually idiots. Anyway, American football just isn’t my forte. I’m a soccer kind of guy.’

Trunks sulked at this, ‘But I’m not a dimwit….’

‘Well, you’re an exception. Don’t worry. You’ll do well. I heard it’s fun. After our ISC (International Sports Club) petitioned it, it’s been relatively popular. Besides, everyone remembers the quarterback!’

Trunks sighed. ‘It’s cool I guess. The coach, Sentou, is a real sore ass. He’s making us train really hard. Keeps mention something about the “Rice Bowl” and so I have to be there after school nearly everyday for practice.’

Takashi gave him a weird look. ‘I dunno what you do in Osaka, but everywhere else in Japan, everyone stays after school to do some extracurricular.’

Trunks shrugged it off and began to start on his lunch. ‘So what was so important that you had to talk to me in private?’

‘Well, actually — hey! Chiharu!’

Suddenly, Takashi noticed a brunette with pigtails from way across the cafeteria and he dashed up to greet her.

Trunks sat by himself as he watched Takashi go. Chiharu was there and he snuck up behind her shouting ‘BOO’. She jumped in surprise and scolded at him at first, but then they engaged in a short, loving hug. Trunks’ eyes wandered and then he noticed Chibiusa chatting with Sakura and another girl. He sighed. He had already gotten over the memory of that morning. By now, Takashi had returned and he noticed Trunks still in a daze.

He sat down and for the first time in a long time, Takashi opened his dark brown eyes and stared openly at Trunks. Snapping out of his trance, Trunks stared back at him in slight confusion with a raised eyebrow. After a while, Takashi said, ‘… You like her, don’t you?’

‘Like who?’ Trunks asked uncertainly. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Takashi grinned. He was pleased he was able have such an effect on such a strong-willed character. He immediately knew Trunks’ weakness. ‘Mini Bunny.’

‘Ch-Ch-Chibiusa? N-No …’ Trunks stammered and blushed. ‘That’s stupid … what makes you think I like her?’ he pretended to retort, waving it off, trying to make it seem casual but he was trembling. ‘You’ve got to be joking. She’s so bratty and besides, just the colour of her hair alone disgusts me!’

Takashi tsked, shaking his head. He knew Trunks couldn’t deny it to himself. ‘Do you even have a girlfriend?’ he asked curiously, picking at his pork bun.

Trunks paused for a moment and looked away. ‘Uh … well, I —’

Takashi sighed, ‘You’ve never had one, have you?’

Before allowing Trunks to respond Takashi continued, ‘You know, if you want I can get Chiharu to ask her out for you. I have connections.’

Trunks stared at him in a stupor. ‘Wha? No! I don’t like her!’

Takashi grinned with a wink. ‘Of course you don’t. You more than like her.’

Trunks sighed, ‘Fine. Maybe I do … kind of … admire —’

‘Love her,’ Takashi corrected, allowing Trunks to blush.

‘Alright. Fine. I guess I do-er-lo-uh-like her a lot,’ Trunks admitted, looking away from Takashi. ‘I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I never understood the way I felt. From the first day I met her … I’ve felt this way.’

Takashi smirked. ‘Why don’t you tell her, Boxer Boy?’

‘I don’t understand girls. I know so few of them. I just don’t know what to say … or do or how to act.’

‘Well, let me tell you,’ Takashi began. ‘You’re going about it all wrong. You can’t simply impress girls by being strong and flexing those biceps of yours …’ he pretended to flex an arm and snickered.

Trunks’ knitted his brow, ‘Hey I don’t flex—’

‘—Chibiusa is obviously disgusted by that.’ He held out his right hand and wiggled his index finger. ‘She’s no damsel in distress … she’s going to think you’re one of those chauvinist pigs that think girls are helpless … she doesn't need a warrior, she needs a soul-mate.’

‘What do you mean?’ Trunks asked hastily as he stuffed some teriyaki fried rice and shrimps into his mouth. He glared over Takashi’s shoulder at the group of admiring girls and boys surrounding a humble-looking Chibiusa. She was becoming quite popular, particularly among the guys. This irritated Trunks. She would cast an eye on every male specimen that addressed her, everyone but him.

Takashi continued, ‘She needs someone to love her, and cradle her and say that he will always be there. And besides, if you eat like that— he frowned at Trunks’s bad eating habits — ‘she'll definitely reject you.’

Trunks stopped eating, set down his chopsticks and groaned, ‘Oh please! That’s BS! How would you know any of this?’

Takashi raised an eyebrow inquisitively. ‘Look carefully, Osaka. You see my girlfriend, Chiharu over there?’ he pointed over at her. She stood among the crowd that surrounded the pink-haired beauty. ‘She and I used to fight all the time. But now we get along. You know why we never got along?’

‘Umm … because you never open your eyes?’

‘Um … NO!’

Trunks narrowed his eyes and folded his arms. ‘Well I figured that was why. I mean, your eyes are always closed … it bothers people sometimes, Yamazaki …’

‘I ASKED YOU A QUESTION!’ Takashi yelled, impatiently.

Trunks stuck his tongue out and rolled his eyes. ‘Ok … Um … I dunno … why?’

Takashi sighed wearily and massaged his temples. He moaned and leaned his chin in the backs of his palms with his elbows rested on the table. He gazed at Trunks seriously through squinted eyes. ‘Because I told lies, my friend, lies. The worst thing you can do to the girl of your affection. You lie to them and they’re ready to bite your head off. And they begin losing faith in you … and trust. The basis of all relationships, even minor ones.’

Trunks stroked his chin with a hand and stared down at his left over lunch thoughtfully. ‘I see.’

‘But now we get along well,’ Takashi said promptly, ‘because she never catches me lying and I never lie to her.’

Trunks nodded his head slowly. He raised his eyes from the table and looked at Takashi sceptically. ‘Yeah, but you lie all the time. At least when you’re with us … like how the moon was actually the source of all cheese and how there’s a rabbit in it–’

‘That’s BESIDES the point!’ Takashi yelled in exasperation, ‘I’m helping you here!’

Trunks looked away sheepishly. His eyes wandered over to Chibiusa. ‘Sorry …’

Takashi snapped his fingers and startled Trunks. ‘Now, first we need to start with your personality.’

Trunks snapped his eyes back at Takashi, ‘What’s wrong with my personality?’

‘Well for starters, you’re rude, arrogant, bossy, malicious, sinister and you have a really gay laugh.’ He took this as an opportunity to imitate Trunks’ “gay laugh”. ‘It sort of goes like this … Ahem! … Haw-haw-harr!’

Trunks went red and glared at Takashi. He definitely did not sound like that! No way in hell!

‘HEY!’ he shouted.

‘Well, it’s true,’ Takashi said calmly, he raised a hand and pointed at Trunks’ head. ‘…And of course…your hair is purple.’

‘Lavender!’ Trunks said angrily.

‘Whatever,’ Takashi shrugged.

‘Not whatever! Purple and lavender are completely different! And what’s so bad about my hair?’ Trunks exclaimed, combing a hand through his precious lavender locks. He started to whine. ‘I inherited it from my grandfather and not once has anyone laughed at me about it!’ He pouted, as Takashi remained unmoved.

‘Yeah, yeah, anyway, back to the point.’

Trunks removed his hand from his head and moaned, ‘Which is?’

‘Be an honest gentleman!’ Takashi exclaimed.

Trunks became impassive, staring right through Takashi. Takashi suddenly looked puzzled. ‘Why?’ he finally said.

Takashi took a sip of his tea and looked into his cup as he swirled the tealeaves. ‘Women like that.’

‘Ok … fine … what do I do?’

Takashi opened his left eye and peered at the food in front of Trunks. ‘Well, improve your eating habits, for starters.’

‘Okay … so how?’

Takashi looked like he would pound Trunks’ head in and hissed slowly, ‘Don’t—chew—with—your—mouth—open—like—a—cow—and—don’t—talk—while—you—eat!’

Trunks chuckled with embarrassment and pushed his food aside.

‘And, hmm … be likeable, kind, passive, humble …’ Takashi smiled broadly. ‘Sensitivity. That’s what girls really notice. A good body is nice but a bad attitude is a turn off. Try to be romantic and turn on the good ol’ Trunks’ charm.’ He clapped his hands together the way Tomoyo usually did.

Trunks clutched his head with his hands. ‘Okay that’s just stupid. I can’t do all that without looking ridiculous!’

‘Sure you can … just talk about mushy stuff … have you ever seen a chick flick?’ said Takashi suggestively, snapping his fingers.

‘No, I usually fall asleep during those things,’ Trunks sighed and gestured for him to stop snapping his fingers. ‘Mom loves them.’

But Takashi didn’t stop, and snapped louder to purposely annoy him. ‘Well, try Love Letter. Or maybe even “Gone With The Wind”, or “Titanic”. Those are good examples, even though they’re Westernized.’

Finally Takashi stopped and Trunks was relieved. He felt the electric pulses in his brain stimulate quicker.

‘Okay …’ Trunks sighed. Man, he thought furiously, what does a guy have to do just to get a girl to like him?

‘Let me see,’ Takashi tapped a finger on his nose. ‘You can’t look at other girls, you have to smile and willingly do stuff for her if she asks.’

‘So … I can offer to carry her stuff? No problem!’ Trunks raised his shoulders broadly.

‘Don’t ever offer to carry her stuff! If it backfires, she might think it’s your way of questioning female independence! You never want to question their ability to do things for themselves.’

Trunks slumped down, his eyes wide and incomprehensible.
‘… Right …’

‘An important thing to remember: Sex.’

‘S-S-Se … Wah?’ Trunks gasped, sweating heavily and pushing his chair gruffly away from the table. He wiped the perspiration off the back of his neck and rubbed it on the front of his shirt. This was getting too much.

‘Ok … never, ever suggest doing it just because you want to.’

Trunks sunk down into his chair, looking revolted, ‘Why would I suggest that? That’s –I wouldn’t –’

‘And when a girl says no, she means no. No matter what the circumstance. And don’t kiss on a first date unless she suggests it first.’

At this point, Trunks was trembling in terror. ‘Can we change the topic?’ he squeaked.

Takashi raised his eyebrows. ‘Why? Does the three-letter word make you nervous?’

Trunks was silent.

‘Well, does it?’ he pressed.

Trunks stared into his lap. ‘Yes …’

‘Well, it’s pretty important.’

Trunks nodded his head and sighed, ‘I know, but … that’s sort of personal and –’

‘Are you writing this down?’ asked Takashi pointedly.

Trunks shook his head. ‘No …’

‘Well, you’d better start!’ Takashi said loudly. Trunks groaned as he took out a piece of paper and a pen. ‘Now for several, simple rules for women …’

Trunks blinked twice. This was getting strange. ‘Rules?’

‘Yes … women are mysterious beings. Push the wrong buttons, cut the wrong wires, and prepare for an explosion.’

‘Er … ok …’ Trunks continued to scribble down notes.

‘Now, always respect her and never question her loyalty to you. She might think you don’t trust her. Remember what “trust” is the basis of.’

‘Right …’

‘Girls are fragile, they don’t want to be heart-broken so don’t ever give into the temptation to cheat. Ok … also, never suggest, “hanging out with the guys” over spending time with her … and when a girl says yes, she means no.’

‘What?’ Trunks squeaked.

‘I don’t get it either, but that’s how it works. Also, if she asks you if her butt is too big or if she looks bad in something, your answer should always be no. And never, I repeat NEVER say anything but what she wants to hear.’

‘But isn’t that dishonesty, and in a way the opposite of what you just said before?’ Trunks asked seriously.

‘Do you want help or not?’

‘Sorry …’ Trunks muttered and wrote everything down.

‘Another thing. Never fall in love with anyone, especially her best friend.’

‘All right …’ Trunks thought that that would be easy enough because he was quite sure that she didn’t have a best friend.

‘And most important of all …’ Takashi lowered his eyebrows as he snatched a magazine that Trunks had been hiding under his notes and glimpsing at when Takashi paused. He studied it and looked revolted. On the cover was a half-naked woman belittling herself.

He sneered. ‘Stay away, and I mean never even observe or utter the word hentai!’

Trunks gasped in horror, staring hopelessly at his lost Playdude magazine. ‘… No … are you SERIOUS?’

Takashi nodded defiantly and ripped the magazine in half right in front of Trunks’ face. He dropped the shreds into his school bag and crossed his arms like an Inuit chieftain. ‘One-hundred-and-ten percent.’

Trunks gaped at the shards in despair. ‘You ripped it!’

Takashi rolled his eyes, ‘Duh.’

‘But-but … Do you know how hard it was for Goten and I to try to steal that from Muten Roshi? The amount of days it took scheming the perfect plan…’ Trunks retched his hands and hollered, ‘THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS! THIS IS NO FUN! YOU RIPPED IT!’

Muten Roshi was an elderly man, with a long white beard and boney knees. He was at once a strong warrior, but in his old age had become quite perverted. At the tender age of 10, Trunks and Goten had always been curious of what those magazines were and formulated a plan to take it while he was asleep. It was not truly Trunks’ nature to be into that trash, why, when he saw those pornographic images, he was disgusted. However, now a teenaged boy of 17 curious about the opposite gender, it never really hurt to take a glimpse once in a while.

‘Look, it sounds bad, but it’s rewarding in the end. At least you’d have a girl of your own who’d be devoted to you and stuff,’ Takashi said matter-of-factly, unfazed by Trunks’ whining and complaints.

‘Yeah … I suppose you’re right …’ Trunks sighed with defeat. But he really did find an interesting article in that magazine which he wanted to finish reading.

‘So, anyway … what else about you do we have to improve?’ Takashi asked inquiringly. Trunks shrugged. Takashi half-opened his eyes and stared at Trunks for a while. ‘Your hair is purple …’

‘YAMAZAKI! STOP TALKING ABOUT MY HAIR!’

He snickered. ‘… chill.’

Trunks pursed his lips and glared at him. Damn it, be serious! he thought heatedly.

He continued, ‘Now, you have muscles, most girls like that. It suggests a good sense of strength. Are you smart?’

He was certain he was bright, considering that his mother was practically a rocket scientist, that he got 102 in the Math entrance exam, and that he was the future CEO of the Capsule Corporation and all. Surely someone who was smart would be chosen for the job. Trunks rolled his eyes and said, ‘Absolutely.’

Takashi nodded his head thoughtfully and went on, ‘Well … hmm … do you have a good sense of humour?’

This was something he wasn’t sure of. He didn’t always get jokes, they made very little sense to him, and if he did understand them, they weren’t always funny or worth laughing at. But he always pulled jokes on other people. It was his gift. Goten thought it was funny. ‘Umm …’

‘Well, we’ll work on that. Do you like to listen?’

‘Listen?’ Trunks asked confusedly. Listen to his father’s constant scoldings and his mother’s ranting on Quadratic Pythagorean Synthesis.

Takashi waved a hand and said airily, ‘Girls like to talk a lot, so if you have a short attention span …’

‘If I do…?’

‘You’re screwed. You’ve got to learn to listen.’

‘Ok … why?’

‘I just told you! Girls like to talk! They could go on for hours just talking and talking! It could drive you nuts! You don’t listen, and they’ll strangle you!’ Takashi roared, remembering the many thousand times Chiharu had done so. Her strangles were lethal, and he had been sent to the hospital once because of them.

‘Oh, I see …’ Trunks said and gulped thickly.

‘And you’ve got to like shopping.’

Ah! Exactly fitting his mother and little sister! … Two people he was never able to comprehend. ‘Aw… shopping? Yamazaki … are you sure about this? I just want her to like me! It’s not like I’m getting married!’

‘Well, you do want a long term relationship don’t you?’ Takashi raised an eyebrow.

‘… I don’t know … well, not really … I’m only 17 going on 18,’ Trunks muttered, prodding his fingers together.

‘Only 17? ONLY 17? Buddy, if I were you and almost 18, I’d already have a fi-an-cée!’ Takashi said, frowning.

Trunks blushed and scowled. ‘Stop making me feel bad!’

‘Well, if you really loved her, wouldn’t you at least consider marrying Chibiusa? Or at least daydream about it being a possibility?’

‘I don’t know. I’ve only known her for a week or so. Why would I consider that, anyway?’ he said, because marriage seemed to be the last thing on his mind, and only heaven knew if he ever daydreamed about being wed. Didn’t it mean a lifetime of commitment and, like, being strapped down, not being able to have any more fun? He didn’t want to chance it, right?

‘Well, this changes everything.’ Takashi sounded like he was ready to give up and close the case. There was no point in continuing the list of his imperfections. ‘You’re just having an infatuation. You don’t actually love her. Truly love her …’

‘But I do! I think about her all day! I can’t even stop thinking about her or looking at her!’ Trunks said indignantly and passionately.

‘Maybe you just think she’s sexy.’

‘Well I do … but I still like her alot …’

‘Because you think she’s sexy…’

Trunks blushed a cherry red. ‘I like her personality, too!’

‘Yeah … but that’s probably because you think she’s sexy …’

‘SHUT UP!’ Trunks was about ready to explode.

Takashi waved his hands cautiously. ‘Ok, ok! But I’m trying to make a point, dumbass!’ he said reasonably, ‘Just thinking about it … are you in love with this girl, or not? If not … you have no real reason to change who you are for her to notice you.’

‘Well, how would I know if I really love her?’ Trunks asked quietly.

‘Think about it … keep thinking about it. Are you willing to make a sacrifice in order for her to be happy? Are you willing to accept her choices no matter whether it affects yours or not? Do you respect her? It’s simple. Just look into your heart, and you’ll know.’

Trunks didn’t respond. Takashi leered at him. Trunks sighed and muttered, ‘Alright then … I’m willing to accept the challenge …’

‘Welcome aboard, buddy!’ Takashi said happily, and held out his hand to the lavender-haired boy. Trunks muttered incoherently and accepted his hand and they shook firmly. The bell rang just then, as if a sign of their pact, and lunch was over.

---

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