For the purpose of this story, let’s just assume that the students get to pick their own roommates, and that age/grade doesn’t matter.

Mukahi Gakuto and Marui Bunta walked out of a sweets shop, each holding ice cream cones. “Tokyo’s not so bad,” Marui decided, giving his double scoop chocolate mint a fond glance. “I thought it’d get worse after four years.”

“Told you,” Gakuto replied smugly. “At least, this part of Tokyo’s pretty good. They have the best restaurants around here. Yuushi and I are planning on going to that new Italian restaurant as soon as it opens.”

Marui nodded. “Oshitari with the fake glasses, right? He’s cool. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to Hyotei.” He grinned. “We all went to the same elementary school, didn’t we?”

It’s really been a long time since we’ve both been able to hang out together, just for fun, Marui realized. Although the schools were brother schools, they really weren’t given enough time to travel from one city to the other, simply for the sake of having fun. Both of their schools were extremely competitive, top-notch high schools, after all. Perhaps if they had gone to the same high school, they’d have had more opportunities to simply hang out.

Not that they didn’t keep in touch. Hyotei and RikkaiDai were close, after all. Most of the students there had gone to the same elementary institute—before they were divided up for junior high school. And because the junior high schools and the high schools were linked, it’d been fairly difficult for Marui to meet up with Gakuto.

It’d also been hard for Marui to frequent Tokyo’s sweet shops.

“And now we’re in high school,” Gakuto said dryly. “If not for the Seigaku and Fudomine geeks, Tokyo would be the best city in Japan. As it is, though, I’d choose Kanagawa over Tokyo any day.” He paused. “Not for a long time, though. Maybe a week at a time or something, because I don’t think Kanagawa has natto.”

“It does too!” And with that, a very mature argument broke out (“Does not!” “Does too!” “Does not!” “Does too!”).

Then Gakuto hesitated. “Wait a sec. Is that a Seigaku student?”

Marui squinted, then smirked. “Yeah, you can tell by their weird uniforms. No suits or ties.”

“Crude,” Gakuto agreed. “I think there’s a Fudomine student with him.”

Sure enough, there stood Momoshiro Takeshi and Kamio Akira, about to head into the sweets shop that Gakuto and Marui had just walked out of.

“Why are the two of them together?” Gakuto asked. “Don’t they have some sort of rivalry over a girl?”

They shared a look, then snickered. It was so like Seigaku and Fudomine to have a fight over something like that. Dimwitted, power reliant, not too smart…

“I heard they had a fight over a bike, too,” Marui put in, and they burst into another fit of laughter. “I still can’t believe we lost to Seigaku before.”

“Even if it was a one time thing,” the acrobat agreed. He tossed his hair slightly and Marui had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Even after four years, he retained his arrogance. Must be a Hyotei thing, he decided.

“Remember how we used to call them the Tokyo ‘Tards?”

“Stop,” Gakuto whined, bending over and laughing. “You’re making my stomach hurt.”

Momoshiro and Kamio passed them, apparently done with their shopping. Kamio, however, subtly inserted his thumb between his middle and index finger as he walked by them, and released it once he passed.

Gakuto’s eyes narrowed, and he glanced at Marui. “Go ahead,” the latter replied, sticking his hands in his pockets and getting ready to watch the show.

Satisfied, Gakuto approached Kamio and grabbed his shoulder. “Excuse me, sir,” he said in a sickeningly sweet voice. “Did you just do what I think you did?”

“Gee, I don’t know,” Kamio spat back. “Why don’t you ask your little gum-chewing servant?” He gave a contemptuous glance at Marui, who walked toward them as well.

He blew a bubble and watched it pop in Kamio’s face. “What’d you say?”

Taking a threatening step forward, he said, “You heard me.”

Marui laughed. “Bad boy,” he taunted. “Don’t use brute strength, use your words. Although, that’s kind of hard to do when brute strength’s all you’ve got going for you.” He easily dodged the punch coming his way, and leaned down to trip Kamio with a swing of his leg. “Ah, too slow. Guess you don’t even have that going for you, eh?”

“If you think you can beat me in a race—”

“We don’t do races,” Gakuto interrupted casually. He tossed his ice cream cone onto Momoshiro’s shirt and grinned at the giant pink splotch it made. “We do fights. Come on, don’t just stand there and watch. Have some fun.” The redhead grinned.

“I could kill you with my bare hands,” the second-year said flatly.

“Try,” he offered, and the moment Momoshiro took a step forward, Gakuto jumped ten feet into the air, did a backflip, and landed behind him.

“Show-off,” Marui sighed. “You haven’t changed a bit, Gakuto.”

“Damn straight,” was the proud reply.

Another boy ran toward them, this one older and carrying several shopping bags. “Momo, Kamio! What are you two doing?” he demanded, setting the bags aside.

“Oishi-senpai!” Momoshiro exclaimed. “These two were—”

“Another one?” Marui asked, grimacing. “Gakuto, they’re taking up all the oxygen.”

Kamio whirled around. “Who’s taking up all the oxygen, you whiny little—”

“You’re calling me little?” Marui demanded. “I’m older than you. And once our schools merge, you’re going to have to call me ‘senpai.’”

“You’re going to have to call both of us ‘senpai,’” Gakuto added, and grinned. “We’ll be good, lovable senpais and tell you where you need to go, too. Let’s see, the girl’s locker room is on the first floor, the girl’s bathrooms are all on the third, the girl’s tennis team meets on Fridays…”

“Are you calling me a girl?”

“No way!” Marui covered his mouth with a hand in an exaggerated gesture. “Really? I had no idea.”

“Stop!” Oishi ordered. “Momoshiro, Kamio, leave. Now. Ryuuzaki-sensei will be hearing about this if you don’t.”

“But they started the whole thing!

“And you’re just as responsible for taking the bait,” he said firmly. “Now go.”

Sullenly, the two marched off, and Oishi turned to Marui and Gakuto. Gakuto was the one who broke the silence. “You have funny looking hair.”

Ignoring the jab, Oishi said, “The school ball is tonight. You’ll both be kept from attending if you continue the fight. I suggest you leave as well.”

“You have no right to tell us what to do,” Gakuto began, but Marui tugged on his arm.

“Let’s just go,” Marui said urgently. To Oishi, he went so far as to give a little bow. “Goodbye, Oishi-kun. We’re sorry about our behavior.” Gakuto gave his friend an incredulous look, but Oishi seemed relieved.

“Apology accepted,” he assured. “I wish we could have met under better terms, and I apologize for my kouhais’ behavior. See you tonight.”

Marui gave a friendly little wave, and as soon as Oishi was out of sight, Gakuto smacked Marui on the arm. “What the hell was that?” he demanded.

Marui began to laugh. “Don’t think so lowly of me; it’s all good,” he replied. “I left my ice cream cone in his shopping bag.”

Gakuto smirked. “That’s more like it. Don’t you ever scare me like that again.” He turned away. “This rivalry has lasted for decades, and it’s not going to stop because of a stupid temporary merge.”

Ryuzaki Sumire sipped her tea. “I’m sure you also heard about the incident regarding Kamio and Momo?”

“Marui and Mukahi as well,” Sakaki acknowledged wearily. “Those two were troublemakers to begin with. I apologize for the incident today, Ryuzaki-san.”

“It was just as much my students’ faults as yours,” she said dismissively. “There’s no need to apologize. But I’m starting to doubt the Director’s decision to merge the schools. The feud was out of control to begin with. I don’t see how merging the students will do anything.”

“It will only make it worse,” Sakaki agreed. “It’s only temporary, however. Six months, I believe?”

“Six months is enough time for students to commit mass murder,” Ryuzaki said grimly.

Sakaki gave a refined laugh. “Certainly not. But there will definitely be injuries and the such. At least one fight. I don’t understand why the students despise each other so fervently. It’s mostly the tennis club, too,” he admitted, “and that’s why I asked you to meet with me. Surely you agree that most of our schools’ population admire—and to some degree, worship—our respective tennis clubs?”

“Of course.”

“And it’s because my regulars loathe your regulars so much, and vice versa, that the rest of the school follows. It must have become a force of habit at this point; it’s practically tradition, and everybody has forgotten why they despise the others so.”

Ryuzaki nodded. “I see where you’re going with this, but there’s not much we can do. The masquerade is in a few hours; the best we can do is hope that a few rival team members will accidentally make friends, or something of the sort. This feud is absolutely ridiculous. Do you even know how it started?”

“I’ve no idea,” he confessed. “I was a music teacher for the majority of my time at Hyotei, and though RikkaiDai and Hyotei are brother schools, I’ve yet to step foot in RikkaiDai University. The schools do meet every month, and the activities are entwined, but very few of it actually has to do with the music department.”

“Seigaku and Fudomine aren’t the type to gossip, and I doubt the teachers know anything. In any case, we should get to the ballroom. The students are probably trying to claw each others’ eyes out.” Ryuzaki gave a resigned sigh and left the room, Sakaki close behind.

An pulled a red dress over her tank top. It barely fell past her knees, but it was simple—no fancy ribbons, no crazy straps, no quadruple layers. It was nothing but an ordinary satin dress with one chiffon sash, and that was how An liked it.

“Are you done yet, An-senpai?”

“Almost,” she called back to Sakuno, who was currently waiting out in the living room with Tomoka. Despite the age difference, she was fond of them—they had personality, something that a lot of Fudomine girls lacked. “I just have to find the mask, and I’ll be set.”

To be honest, she wasn’t really looking forward to the masquerade ball. It sounded fun, mysterious. And An was always up for an adventure, but something about mingling with RikkaiDai and Hyotei students—without even knowing who was who—seemed risky, almost.

As if she’d read An’s mind, Tomoka began ranting, “This whole exchange is silly. Who do the teachers think they’re kidding? Just because they’re shoving all of us into one building doesn’t mean we’re suddenly going to be best friends. If it weren’t for the fact that Ryoma-sama is attending this dance, I wouldn’t even be going.”

“Oh?” An murmured, digging through her closet. She’d only moved into the dorms yesterday evening, and had resorted to dumping the contents of her suitcases in her closet without sorting through them. Wasn’t a very good idea, she decided, and helplessly searched for a hint of red.

“I’m sure the RikkaiDai and Hyotei students aren’t that bad,” Sakuno protested. “Isn’t Ryoma-kun friends with some of them?”

Always the nice one, An thought fondly.

“They wish!” Tomoka gave a haughty laugh. “Ryoma-sama crushed all of them, of course they’d want to be friends with him. But our prince is Seigaku, and that’s all there is to it.”

“I suppose…” Sakuno agreed halfheartedly.

“Found it!” An exclaimed, and held up a dark red mask, forgetting momentarily that Sakuno and Tomoka couldn’t see her. She put it in her bag and walked out. “How do I look?”

“You look beautiful, An-senpai!” Tomoka told her. “No clips today?”

“They’d give me away,” she admitted. After all, she’d been wearing the clips since seventh grade, and they’d become a sort of trademark for her. If she wanted to maintain some degree of mystery, she’d have to do more than cover the top half of her face. “Do you two still want help with your hair?”

“If you don’t mind,” Sakuno said shyly.

She shook her head. “Of course not,” and with that, began to unbraid Sakuno’s hair. “Are you looking to impress Echizen-kun?” she asked gently.

The bright red blush that bloomed on her face gave An her answer, and she smiled. I wish I felt that way about somebody, she thought vaguely.

“And then Gakuto dumped his ice cream on the Momoshiro guy’s shirt,” Marui said, laughing. “You should’ve seen his face. And Gakuto was acting all cool about it. I think his exact words were, “We don’t do races; we do fights.” And then Momoshiro threatened to kill him or something, but Gakuto got all show-offy and did a backflip…” He switched the channel. “These new dorms are sweet.”

“Yeah,” Akaya agreed. “Didn’t you say that Seigaku was the first to back off?” He tried his lion mask on. It was detailed and silver, and a perfect fit. Yukimura-buchou had been the one to buy the masks for everyone, and personally, Akaya liked his best. Niou and Yagyuu had both been given bird masks, Jackal and Sanada had been given phantom masks, Marui received a jester mask, Renji a simple black one, and of course, Yukimura’d chosen an extravagant one for himself.

Yes, the lion mask had been the best of them all.

Marui snorted. “Yeah, some eleventh grader barged in and threatened to kick the two kids out of the dance. I bet he was afraid we were going to beat them up or something. Like we have to.” He rolled his eyes and switched the channel again. “We were going to make them cry, anyway. Dude, do you know how many channels this thing has?”

“Seigaku and Fudomine were pathetic to begin with,” Akaya said, trying on his suit. “I still can’t believe we’re actually going to share a school with them.”

“It’s a great opportunity for pranks,” Marui replied with a shrug. “I know Niou’s looking forward to it.”

“Niou-senpai? Is Yagyuu-senpai joining, too? He’s gotta know better than that—fukubuchou would have his head. He wants us to ‘prove that we’re the more mature and disciplined of the two,’” Akaya quoted. “Damn it, how do you tie this stupid thing?”

Marui tore his eyes away from the flat-screen television long enough to glance at the tangled mess that was once a tie. “Fifteen years old, and you can’t tie a tie,” he mused.

Akaya scowled. “Shut up, Marui-senpai.”

The door opened and Sanada walked in, completely dressed and cap-less. “Are you two ready yet?”

Marui yelped. “Sanada! Knock next time, please.”

Sanada gave him a withering look. “Then lock the door next time. Akaya, what is that monstrosity around your neck?”

“What’s the big deal?” Akaya demanded. “Why are we dressing up for this thing anyway? It’s dressing up to impress the enemy. They’re not worth my time, anyway.”

“I won’t have you misrepresenting RikkaiDai,” Sanada replied sternly, and began to fix Akaya’s tie. “Look mature and act mature, because you’re a RikkaiDai student, as well as a tennis team regular. Don’t make a fool of yourself.”

“Please,” Marui snorted, “he’ll make a fool of himself the moment he starts dancing.”

“Shut up, Marui-senpai.”

“Well, do you know how to waltz?”

“Do you?”

Sanada stepped back and looked at Akaya. He was dressed alright, though his hair was still a mess and he’d chosen to keep his wristband on. At least the tie’s on straight, he thought jadedly. “You’re ready. Let’s go; Yukimura and the rest are waiting for us outside the ballroom.”

“How beautiful,” An breathed, entering the ballroom. She’d known that the masquerade ball would be a formal one, but she’d never imagined just how formal.

The room was filled with students, dressed impeccably in the most elegant suits and gowns. Masks covered their faces, and they might as well have all been strangers. The atmosphere was tense, and understandably so. No one wanted to mingle with anybody else—there was a fifty-fifty chance that the person they approached would be from a rival school, and no one wanted to risk it. How are we to tell who’s who? she wondered, and grimaced at the possibility of befriending a Hyotei student. It hardly seemed like a party at all.

She had to admit, however, that the Atobe family must have put a great deal of effort into decorating the place. Or at least, a great deal of money. It looked nothing like a modern-day dance floor, and everything like an Elizabethan ballroom. There were fire lit torches decorating the walls, refreshments placed on satin covered tables, and an actual violin quartet playing classical music in a corner of the room. It was perfect for slow-dancing, but nobody seemed willing.

A young man in a golden mask was talking to a shorter man in a light blue mask, and An immediately recognized the former as her brother. “Onii-chan!” she called, and walked over to them. “Who’s this?”

“An-chan,” Kippei greeted fondly. “You don’t recognize Fuji-kun?”

An whipped around. Sure enough, there stood Fuji, blue eyes and all, with an entertained little smile on his face. He looked nothing like the boyish athlete she usually saw, and everything like royalty. She couldn’t help but make a vague connection to a fairytale prince. “I’m sorry, Fuji-senpai. You look so different in a suit,” she admitted sheepishly.

He laughed lightly. “I suppose I do. You look quite different yourself. How are you enjoying the party?”

“It’s been rather boring,” An answered honestly. “I don’t know who’s who, and my friends haven’t arrived yet.”

“There’s going to be a performance later on,” Fuji informed her. “Maybe that will be more entertaining.” To Kippei, he said, “I’ll be right back; I need to have a word with Tezuka.”

Kippei nodded, and once Fuji walked off, turned to An. “I want you to be careful,” he said in a low voice, and An stared back incredulously.

“At a party?”

“There are Hyotei and RikkaiDai students here,” he warned. “They’re not people for us to be afraid of, but I don’t want you picking any fights or getting into trouble. Leave that to the other students, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I wouldn’t,” she replied indignantly.

Kippei gave her a hard stare. “Avoid the people you don’t know, at least for now, and be amiable. We’ll deal with the full effects of the exchange when school starts tomorrow, okay?”

An mumbled her agreement and gave a frown once her brother walked off to join Fuji and Tezuka. She knew he was trying to look after her, but there was really no reason to. He’d never been so protective when they went to Fudomine—why did that have to change now? Because two stuck up schools were joining?

“An-chan!” a friend called. “Come here!”

Her eyes lit up. Finally, someone she knew. “Be right there,” she called back, and hurried to get some punch before joining them. The area around the refreshments table was practically empty, which was surprising—in Fudomine, almost all the students were clustered there. Were things really so tense that nobody felt like socializing?

The punch had been poured into individual flutes, and An found herself missing the paper cups they used to have before the exchange. She fumbled for a glass while looking for people she knew, but upon trying to pull the glass off the shelf, she found that it wouldn’t budge.

“Hey, that’s my glass.”

An looked up to see a boy in a silver lion mask, gripping the same flute she was. She was about to give a sharp retort, but her brother’s words came to mind and she bit them back. “I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “I’ll get another one.” She reached for the flute next to it and was about to leave, but Lion Mask Boy’s laughter stopped her in her tracks.

“You must be from Seigaku,” Lion Mask Boy said snidely. “Always the first to back down from a fight.”

Not bothering to correct him, she snapped back, “Then you must be from Hyotei, the first to start one.” He stared at her intently before replying, and An couldn’t help but notice how green his eyes were.

“Nah,” was the casual reply. “If I remember correctly, it was your Momoshiro and Kamio who picked a fight with my senpais.”

Then he’s my age, An realized. “Your senpais probably provoked them.” She gave him the best glare she could, considering she was wearing a mask and her arm was seriously getting sore from holding it up.

Surprisingly, Lion Mask Boy didn’t attempt to make a clever comeback. Instead, he shrugged. “That does seem like something they’d do,” he said with a grin. “’Course, it’s not like it’s unjustified and stuff.”

“What do you mean by that?” An demanded. “You just called yourself arrogant.”

He shrugged again. “Nah. You can’t be arrogant if you got the skills to back it up. Which I do.”

An rolled her eyes, though he probably didn’t see. “I doubt that.”

Lion Mask Boy frowned then. “Do you know who I am?”

“As a matter of fact, I don’t. You’re wearing a mask. But knowing you Hyotei students, that probably never occurred to you, did it?”

His frown deepened. “You argue too much for a girl.”

“You whine too much for a boy.”

“I do not!” He actually seemed offended by this, and his voice rose at least an octave in pitch. An resisted the urge to laugh.

“You’re doing it now,” she pointed out, then caught herself smiling and recoiled. What happened to avoiding the enemy? “I’m leaving,” she stated, before he could say anything else.

“Hope I don’t see you around sometime!” Lion Mask Boy called after her.

“That’s such a unique riposte,” she said sarcastically, and quickly engulfed herself in a crowd of students.

I can’t even talk for two minutes without getting into an argument, she realized in dismay as she made her way to her friends. Then she erased the thought from her mind.

He started it, she told herself firmly, and tried not to think about how immature that statement was.

It was only when she started chatting with her friends that she realized she’d completely forgotten about the drink.

First official chapter! Again, I'm not really sure if I should continue writing this. Oh, and if anyone would like to recommend a beta, please do so! I could really use one.