Important Notes: This story is VERY AU (alternate universe). I would love to do the whole introduction page, but I think fanfic doesn't like that for some reason O.o Anyways, here are a few things that are important in remembering when reading this story:
1 – This centers on Anzu/Téa so if you don't like her, you probably shouldn't read this (and I will not accept bashings in any way, shape, or form on her character. You've been warned)
2 – The story is completely alternate universe, and should Duel Monsters show up in it, it is because I couldn't think of anything else for Kaiba Corp. to produce products for
3 – As above, with Duel Monsters, Sennen (Millennium) items and Egyptian pasts will not be in this story unless absolutely necessary
4 – Due to the nature of the story (situations, themes, etc.) it is rated PG-13; there will be no language, but there will be slang (i.e. – darn, shoot, etc [not too bad]) Rating may go up depending on what an "R" stands for
5 – This is Alternate Universe meaning Domino does not exist (see numbers 2 and 3)
6 – I'm going to try to use actual Japanese cities, such as Kyoto, Tokyo, and Okinawa. Muko does exist, and is very close to Kyoto, however, I don't think it's actually a town in Kyoto (but for the story, it will be)
7 – The pairing is…should I let you guess? I'll tell you since you should be able to figure out at the end of Chapter One. Pairings for this story are Anzu/Honda, I'm not sure of any others at the moment
8 – I'll tell you now, this story does have a sequel, so when you get to the end, if it disappoints you, don't worry. Let me forewarn you, the ending won't be what you'll expect
Summary: Mazaki Anzu is the most intelligent sophomore at the high school in Muko's northern district (a town on the outskirts of Kyoto, Japan). Because of it, she is often the victim of harassment and torture by the two senior bullies – and their new recruit and friend.
Honda Hiroto was once a member of a gang, and everyone knows it. That's how he gets involved with the two senior bullies – one of them who was in the same gang with him and his best friend. When he first meets Anzu, he thinks nothing of it, but as he gets to know her, things change.
She's alone and practically invisible; he's looking for fulfillment in his life. Will they find the missing pieces to their hearts…before it's too late?
Disclaimer: As with my other stories, this will be the only time I say this. I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh, or any of the characters; and trust me, I don't want to. Do you know how hard it would be to deal with deadlines and drawing everything and writing script and coming up with all those Duel Monsters and…yeah, anyways, that would be too much work. I make no profit from this story, or any other I've written; but someday, I hope to publish a few books. I do own my creativity, and hope to one day change this into an actual original composition story (because more than likely, with the change in universe, the characters change greatly too…awesomeness) So, do not sue me, do not steal my story, and do not take my quotes (that has happened with another story I've written…). However, if you want to hire me as a writer, I will do so with gladness. It will be a 99/1 where I get 99% of the money and you get 1% (come on, I need a car!)
And now that that is all completed, we shall begin with the story. So as not to confuse anyone, the first part (the italics) are someone's Point of View thoughts (you can figure that out) On with the show!
Missing Pieces I
by: Sakura Mitsukai
Emptiness is a dark void deep within our hearts, blocking out the light of the sun. Darkness clouds our vision as our world grows cold; until the light steps in, brightening our souls. You have saved me, brought happiness to my soul; you are my light, the missing pieces to make me whole.
My life sucks, it's a plain and simple deduction really. I feel so alone, it's really nothing new, just something I'm so used to. It doesn't always hurt, but deep down, inside my heart, I feel lonely. It's like I'm drowning in this darkness inside me, this darkness of pain, rejection, suffering…so much has stolen my happiness from me.
I don't care what they say to me, about me…how they treat me. Even though that's true, it still hurts. And the more it happens, the more it eats away at your soul. The more they hurt you, the more your heart breaks. The more they lie to you, the more you begin to believe it.
Things weren't always this way; life didn't always suck so much. When I was younger, before I moved here, things were alright. I had a few friends, not many really; just one or two. I was younger than, naïve too. But I had good times with them; so many, that I could never recall them all. But when I turned thirteen, my whole world turned upside-down.
My father was killed in the war; he received some award for that, I just can't remember what – it was a while ago. He was so brave, so strong; I know he fought with all he had. He loved me so much; he adored my mom. I don't remember much about him, he died when I was two. I remember a man showing up at our door, giving my mom the news and the flag; telling us how much his service to the country had been appreciated. I didn't understand what was going on. He was killed saving another man, but we never found out who.
And while it was hard to grow up without him, I did. But after I turned thirteen, my mom got remarried. She had been dating the guy for two years, and I expected it to happen, but I didn't want it to. He's a nice guy, and he loves my mom; but he'll never be my dad.
After they got married, my mom told me we were moving to Kyoto because her husband's business had transferred him. I was upset, but there really was nothing I could do to stop it. So, from Okinawa, we moved to Kyoto. We live closer to the outskirts than to the city, which is fine with me. I don't like big cities that much.
Of course, the few friends I had, I lost contact with. And I was facing this place alone. I thought I could make a friend at my new school, but I suppose I was wrong about that. I was in my second year of junior high, and second to the top of my class back in Okinawa. I made one friend, and we had a lot of fun together. The other kids didn't like me too much because of how well I would do on the exams. My friend moved to America the third year of junior high, right before entrance exams for high schools.
I had chosen the one closest to my house, it seemed logical. I guess smart kids aren't accepted around here as much as they were back in Okinawa. I scored at the very top on the entrance exams and was the valedictorian of the entering class at the high school. I felt like I had accomplished something, that I'd done something great; but they made it feel like a burden, and made me feel like a failure. I wasn't accepted by the kids in my class; only when they needed help with their work.
The older kids didn't like me because I was in so many advanced classes. And the jokes and the teasing and the hurt and the pain began my sophomore year, my first year in senior high.
It wasn't that it bothered me so much, except when they said it right to my face. I don't know why I could take the gossip and back talking so much; I guess I thought if I didn't pay any attention, it wouldn't be real. There's this group of guys, three seniors, who bully around the smarter, younger kids. With my admittance into the school, I've recently become the prey they feed upon. And each and every day, they make my life more miserable than before. But, will things always be this way?
- - -
The sun was shining brightly down upon the small town of Muko, Japan as another day dawned. The birds were in the air, singing glorious melodies while the day lilies opened their faces for the world to see. The air was crisp and fresh as a gentle breeze blew, lightly ruffling the colored leaves on the trees. It was a beautiful autumn day.
A young girl made her way down the street, a black blazer around her shoulders, a satchel in one hand. Her brown hair blew freely in the morning breeze, cascading beyond her shoulders while the chilled fingers of the air brushed through the long chestnut locks. Her sapphire eyes were cast downward as she hugged the satchel to her chest and quickened her pace.
Her black shoes clicked along the pavement as she walked, scattering the fallen leaves. Her blue and purple plaid skirt – cut nearly six inches above her knees – swirled in the air. Some girls may like it that short, but she hated it; not that she didn't have the body for it. Beneath the blazer, only slightly visible, was her white blouse with a light blue necktie.
Any passerby would have no difficulty understanding where this girl was heading. After all, her outfit was that of the senior high school in Muko's northern district.
She stopped, only meters from the school walls. She cast her eyes around her, only finding a few people scattered here and there; none she recognized. Sighing, she dropped her arms, the satchel falling at her side. There was still twenty minutes before the class bell would ring; she had a little time. Quickly, she entered the school grounds and headed for the doors of the large, off-white building.
Her long legs carried her to the doors in record time and a small grin replaced the blank look on her face when she stepped inside. She slowed her pace as she walked through the building, heading for the staircase to the second floor.
Down the connecting hallway, a group of boys lingered, talking and laughing about pointless things. They were all senior boys; tall, strong, athletic, and fairly handsome. The tallest of their group had bleached his hair, which contrasted his dark eyes greatly; he was the cruelest boy at the school, always jeering at the younger kids.
"I think I see some fun," he said, a smirk finding its way to his lips as he cast his eyes down the hallway, watching the young brunette make her way to the stairs.
"What is it Kazuma?" another boy asked, his Japanese slightly broken. He was fairly tall with thick blonde locks and deep chocolate eyes. His novelty looks often put him on the receiving end of dreamy looks, which he reveled in; however, he never made a move to date the girls, only to make them dream more.
"It's that smart girl from the sophomore class Jounouchi," Kazuma answered his American friend. "Let's go have some fun."
The third boy in the group wordlessly followed his friends. He wasn't the dreamboat like Jounouchi, or the handsome boy like Kazuma, but he had good looks in his own respect. He shared the same height as Jounouchi, as well as the same, dark chocolate eyes; however, he had thin brown hair, slightly pointed up over his forehead. And no amount of hair gel and hair spray could get it to look any different.
"Honda, pick up the pace, you're lagging behind," Kazuma said before stepping in front of the girl, startling her.
Honda sighed, standing off to Kazuma's side as Jounouchi went to stand behind the girl. He didn't mind picking on kids, as long as they were male; but picking on this girl, even if she was smart, wasn't right in his mind. It wasn't like she wasn't pretty, it's just that she was…smarter than all three of them combined.
"What's this?" Kazuma asked, raising a bleached brow as he grabbed the book out of the girl's satchel. He flipped through the pages, not able to read the English text. "Looks like a bunch of gibberish to me."
"It's in English. Please give it back," the girl answered, trying to reach for the book. While she was tall for a girl of her age and nationality, she was no match in comparison to Kazuma.
"Hey, she said please," Kazuma laughed, seeming to ponder her request. "I think I'll keep it; read it for myself. Find out what intrigues someone as nerdy as you."
"Like you could read that Kaz', it's in English dimwit," Jounouchi teased, laughing from behind the girl. "We all know you failed that class."
"That's because all that bleach has seeped into his brain," the girl growled, reaching for the book once more.
Kazuma glared, his empty hand forming into a tight fist. "Just because I may not be as smart as you doesn't mean I'm stupid Mazaki!"
"Just give her the dumb book," Honda said, yawning. "What would you do with it anyways Kazuma? It's a classic English romance novel."
Kazuma glanced at Honda in confusion before looking at Jounouchi. He too, seemed to be bored. "Whatever," he snarled, throwing the book towards Honda. "But mark my words Mazaki, I'll make your life miserable until the day I graduate. Let's go."
Jounouchi followed Kazuma down the hallway while Honda lingered back, stooping down to pick up the discarded book. He glanced at the title, smirking, before walking towards the girl.
"Is it Elizabeth Bennet that has too much pride while Mister Darcy is too prejudice, or is it the other way around? Perhaps Miss Bennet is both too prideful and prejudice, while Mister Darcy has too much pride but not enough prejudice. Oh, the possibilities," Honda said, handing the book to the girl.
Her eyes widened as she accepted the book, lifting her head to meet his chocolate orbs. "You've read it?"
Honda chuckled, watching her place the book back in the satchel. "'It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife'," he quoted.
"Anyone could read the first fifty pages," she shrugged.
"Hey, Honda, are you coming or are you going to stay and talk to the geek?" Kazuma called from down the hallway, tapping his foot impatiently.
"'At last it arrested her -- and she beheld a striking resemblance of Mister Darcy, with such a smile over the face as she remembered to have sometimes seen, when he looked at her. She stood several minutes before the picture in earnest contemplation, and returned to it again before they quitted the gallery.'" Honda turned from her, strolling down the hallway to meet his friends.
"'There was certainly at this moment, in Elizabeth's mind, a more gentle sensation towards the original than she had ever felt in the height of their acquaintance.'" The girl smiled slightly, continuing on her walk towards the stairs.
From down the hallway, where he and his two friends were talking, Honda cast his eyes towards the girl once more. She was pretty, and she was smart. Hopefully, for his reputation, she would never tell anyone he had read Pride and Prejudice; then again, from what he had noticed, she was a loner. Mazaki Anzu was strangely intriguing.
- - -
"Open your books to page 201. Mazaki-san, please read for us."
Anzu slowly rose, the book in her hands. Of all the classes she was enrolled in, English Literature was her favorite. Not only did they read English classics, but classics from other countries such as France and Italy.
Because she was so advanced in the English language, she had been placed in this class which was specifically for seniors. The only downfall to it was that the three friends – Kazuma, Jounouchi, and Honda – were in it as well.
"'The reader must now allow us to take him to the wall surrounding Monsieur de Villefort's house, where we shall meet some people…" Anzu began, the words from The Count of Monte Cristo flowing smoothly from her lips.
Two rows behind where Anzu sat, in the back, was Honda. Beside him were Kazuma and Jounouchi. While Jounouchi seemed to be interested, Kazuma didn't even try to mask his boredom – and more than likely, he was as lost as half the class due to the amount of English being spoken.
Honda remained quiet, following along in the book he held in his own hands. The story was intriguing, he would warrant Alexandre Dumas that, but he found it to be taking quite a bit of time to get to the point. Well, it isn't the movie, that's for sure. I mean, the movie left out this entire plot right here – two lovers who were bound by society rules like arranged marriages and parents' wishes.
"'"…But aren't you afraid your stepmother's message may be about your marriage?"
"'"I don't think so."
"'"In any case, don't be afraid, Valentine: I'll never belong to another woman as long as I live."'—"
"Kazuma-san, is there something more interesting than this class?" the teacher interrupted, causing Kazuma's head to snap up and awaken him from his slumber.
"No, Tusaki-sensai," he answered emotionlessly.
"I advise you to pay attention to my class, Kazuma-san, or I might assign you detention and extra work," Tusaki warned, glancing around the room. "Thank you Mazaki-san. Jounouchi-san, please pick up where Mazak-san left off."
Anzu sighed, returning to her seat. While she loved the book they were reading, reading it out loud could get tiresome; especially when you had to read it loud and annunciate every syllable since so many of the students should still be in English Language 1 – the first year, junior high class.
"Hey, Mazaki, you have a note," the girl behind her whispered, sliding a note onto Anzu's desk – completely unnoticed by Tusaki.
Anzu unfolded the paper slowly, glancing down at the Japanese writing scribbled on it. A frown formed on her face as she finished, telling herself not to turn around. He's such a jerk! Slowly, she refolded the paper, her eyes on the clock. The bell would ring in three minutes, and then, she would tear the paper to shreds. From behind, she could feel Kazuma's victorious smirk radiating from him.
"What did you write?" Honda whispered, raising a brow in question.
"She has the voice of a dying frog, mixed with the voice of a cow in labor," Kazuma replied, the bell ringing at the end of his sentence.
"Finish reading the next three chapters on your own tonight. Have a nice lunch," Tusaki said, opening the door to the classroom and watching the students filing out.
Anzu rose from the desk, tearing the paper to shreds and dropping them in the trash receptacle by the door.
"Mazaki, did your voice get like that because you were kissing frogs, hoping to find a prince charming?" Kazuma snickered, following her from the class.
"That's cold Kazuma," Jounouchi answered, chuckling lightly. "Nah, I think she's got an okay voice. 'Course, she's a girl and I love all the ladies."
"Why don't you go take a couple thousand cold showers you pig-headed womanizer," Anzu mumbled, quickening her pace to the back doors of the school.
"Hey now, that's a bit insulting. Ah, a girl with a temper…I like it."
"Come on guys, leave her alone," Honda said, rolling his eyes. "I, for one, do not want to have to wait in a long line. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty hungry."
"Yeah, food! Come on Kazuma!" Jounouchi exclaimed, rushing towards the entrance of the cafeteria.
Anzu turned her head, glancing at Honda and briefly meeting his chocolate orbs. Why was he being somewhat nice to her? Didn't he know that she was a "geek" or was he so dense he couldn't figure it out? New student or not, he's hanging around with the two cruelest people in the school, you'd think he'd catch on by now.
- - -
The final bell of the day rang, releasing the students from what some may call a prison cell where they force you to learn. Lockers were being opened, books thrown inside; the noisy sounds of hundreds of conversations filled the hallways of the school building.
Anzu slowly made her way outside, enjoying the somewhat quietness as opposed to the sounds inside. As she held her satchel in one hand, her mind was contemplating Honda's actions.
Sure, he was a new student and didn't know everything about the way things were, but he had been there over a week and had seen enough jeering on Kazuma and Jounouchi's part to understand she wasn't one he was supposed to talk to. Of course, he had been befriended by Jounouchi first, and he wasn't too bad of a guy; he just hung around Kazuma too much. Why was Kazuma such a jerk anyways? Sure, he was their star basketball player, but Jounouchi was a star football player (which is known as soccer in other parts of the world).
There was something different about this Honda Hiroto that made her wonder. She shrugged, picking up her pace. Though she had read the book many times before, she was itching to read about Mister Darcy and Miss Bennet's relationship.
"Hey, whoa, wait up!" a voice called from behind her.
Anzu arched a brow, continuing on her pace. There must be someone behind her that the voice was speaking to; no one ever called out to her. A hand on her shoulder suggested otherwise.
"Gee, you're fast," he said, taking a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to you."
"Talk to me? Where's Kazuma and Jounouchi?" Anzu asked skeptically, picking up her pace.
"Hey, wait a second. They live the other direction. We just moved everything into the house last night, so now we're moving in. I figured since it's in the same direction you seem to be walking, we could walk together, or something," Honda shrugged.
Great…just great. "Whatever," she mumbled, slowing down slightly.
"You don't seem too friendly," he commented, walking beside her beneath the trees that lined the walk.
Anzu laughed lightly, shaking her head. "I don't have reasons to trust anyone; even if you are new. What are you doing in Kyoto anyway? I heard you lived in Tokyo and went to a private school up there."
"Partially true," Honda answered, smirking. "I've lived in Tokyo nearly all my life. I actually joined a gang when I was around twelve. That's where I met Jou—"
"Jounouchi? The same one here?" Anzu interrupted.
"Yeah. Small world…or country. Anyways, my parents were able to get me in a private school when I was in my second year of senior high. I had dropped from the gang the year before, but I still hung out with them as friends. Since the private school wasn't helping much, my parents decided to move down here. I'm glad they did, since Jou's been my best friend since we joined the gang," he shrugged nonchalantly, looking around them.
"You sound like you don't care who knows."
"Everyone is already afraid of me because I hang around Kazuma; it wouldn't make a difference. Just as long as they don't know I read English novels on my free time."
Anzu laughed softly, a small smile forming on her face. "I appreciate you walking with me home and talking to me and everything, but tomorrow, this never happened."
"Shouldn't you be going home?"
"Huh? Oh, I live right there," Honda said, pointing to the house across the street from Anzu.
As I suspected… "How…nice. Well, this is my house. Goodnight," Anzu said, walking away from him.
"Hey, Mazaki-san, I'm walking you home tomorrow," Honda called.
"The only way I'd let that happen is if," Anzu paused. "If you were in the kendo club."
"You're in luck, I'm the kendo club champion." Honda grinned at the look that passed over Anzu's face before waving and heading across the street to his own house.
He's a strange one. Was in a gang, yet reads English novels in free time; and he's the kendo club champion? But…he hangs around with Kazuma and Jounouchi. I have to keep my guard up…I have to remain invisible at school; and I can't let him know too much about me. For all I know, he's acting out one of Kazuma's plans.
- - -
…This sad exchange please neither one of us / So we finally gave up / Meanings tend to give out / The time was gone to act out / It's living torture / Living torture No talking when I / Want you to listen / No talking 'cause it's / Living torture / Living torture…
The words flowed through the air freely, the beat pulsating through her body as she spun around, shaking her body to the tune of the song. The window had been closed, the curtain drawn, and the door to her room shut as she had turned the volume on her stereo up, loud enough to be heard throughout the entire house.
True, the song was in complete English, as was the rest of her disc, but she had enjoyed the movie when she had gone to see it with her mother; and the music had been her favorite part. So, after saving up, she had purchased the disc, and it had become one of her favorite to dance to.
It wasn't that she was in a dance club, or taking lessons; it was just something she enjoyed – as long as no one could see her. She was fine being hidden, somewhat invisible; even if it was lonely at times. Dancing was her way to unwind after a long day of classes.
The faint sound of a car engine broke her from her trance as she hurriedly turned the stereo down the moment the front door clicked open. Her stepfather always returned home an hour earlier than her mother; and while he never complained about her music being loud, she knew it had slightly bothered him.
"Anzu? Are you in here?" he asked, a gentle knocking sound reverberating through her room.
"Have you finished your work for the evening?"
It was the same words everyday; the same answers on her part. It was just a ritual they played to spark some conversation, even if it never changed.
"Your mother will be home soon; I'll be in the den."
It wasn't like she disliked him, they just didn't have much in common – if anything. And even if she hated him, she would have remained silent on this for her mother's sake. After raising her for so long, her mother had deserved some kind of happiness; even if it did mean getting remarried.
Yawning tiredly, she stretched her arms before dropping to her mattress. Six o'clock had come and gone, and her mother would be home soon. Sometimes, she would be the one to make supper, however, her mother had told them she'd bring it home to them.
As she lay silently on her mattress, her eyes staring listlessly at the ceiling above, her mind wandered back on the events of the day – something she rarely did. As she was contemplating Honda's intentions and whether or not he was carrying out one of Kazuma's jokes, she heard her name being called.
Yawning once more, she rose from the mattress slowly and stepped out into the hallway. She hadn't taken into consideration where the voice had come from, or what it was calling her for. She stopped at the banister which allowed her access to the view of the front door.
"What is it?" she asked tiredly, playing with the tie on her sweatpants.
"You have a visitor."
Anzu's eyes widened slightly as she looked past her stepfather and took in the attire of the boy beside him. He was still dressed in his school uniform, only a few buttons had been undone and the tie had long ago disappeared. His own blazer hung over an arm as he stood in the doorway.
"Don't be rude Anzu-chan, come down here," her stepfather chastised, watching her curiously. "She'll be a moment; if I'm needed, I'll be in the den working."
"Thank you Mazaki-san," Honda said, bowing his head briefly. He watched Anzu approaching him precariously, and took this time to look her over quickly.
She had changed from her neatly pressed uniform into black sweatpants and a plain white baby-tee. Her hair had been tied back into a single ponytail and her shoes and socks had been discarded.
She eyed him cautiously, titling her head to the side. This had never happened before. "Can I help you?"
"Oh, I wanted to give you this. I would have waited until tomorrow, but I'm not sure if you'll talk to me then," Honda said, a faint tint on his cheeks as he handed her a book.
"What's the catch?"
"There…isn't one," he shrugged, grinning at her. "It's actually my mom's book, but I thought you might like to read it; if you haven't already. I think you'll like it."
Anzu remained silent, turning the book over in her hands and reading the summary. It sounded like it could be an interesting book, however, anyone who hung out with Kazuma could not be trusted.
"Why would you think I'd like it considering that you don't know me?" she mused aloud, an eyebrow raised in question.
Honda shrugged, the tint in his cheeks returning. Nervously, he rubbed the back of his neck, looking away from her sapphire eyes. "You uh…don't have to read it if you don't want to."
"Look, I think it's…" Anzu trailed off, finally noticing the tint on his cheeks. She shook her head and placed the book in his hands. "I don't know why you're talking to me or being nice to me, but you don't have to. I've been perfectly fine being alone, and I'll continue to do so. Thanks, but no thanks."
Honda was slightly taken aback at the tone in her voice, but shrugged nonetheless. "Well…if you ever want to talk." Shrugging once more, he took her hand and placed the book there before turning to leave. "See you tomorrow."
Anzu remained silent, watching him make his way across the street. Blushing, at her? It was preposterous! Only those classified as nerds did that; the others would only want to use her and be done with her. First, use her for her brain, then, use her for physical pleasures; and when that was over, she'd be out like yesterday's garbage. And that will never happen.
- - -
"'"I mean that the Count of Monte Cristo did not unearth the skeleton of a child in his garden because no child was buried there"
"'"Then where was it that you buried our child? What reason did you have to deceive me?"
"'"Listen to me," said Villefort, "and you'll pity me for bearing a burden of grief for twenty years without ever imposing any of it on you. You remember how the child was handed to me immediately after its birth and how we believed it to be dead."
"'Madame Danglars made a movement as though she were about to leap to her feet, but Villefort stopped her with a gesture imploring her attention. "We believed it to be—"'"
"Mazaki-san!" her teacher called out, causing Anzu's head to snap up and her eyes to focus on her Japanese history teacher. "This is history class Mazaki-san, not Literature."
"Sorry Masami-sensai," she whispered, closing her book and dropping it in her satchel. It was just getting so interesting. I know that Madame Danglars and Monsieur Villefort had an affair and that Andrea is there son, but they thought he was buried. When is this class over!
Anzu glanced at the clock, sighing when she found there was still twenty minutes left in the class. It wasn't that she disliked history, she just found the lecture to be dull. This too, was an advanced class for her as most the occupants were seniors – one of them being Honda Hiroto, who had happened to sit beside her.
"Mazaki-san, sighing and watching the clock will not make time go faster. Now please, get out your book and take notes."
Honda smirked, watching the exchange quietly. When the teacher finally turned back to the computer to type more notes on the projector, he quickly scribbled a note and placed it on her desk.
Anzu stared at the piece of parchment in curiosity before giving in and focusing on the words which had been scribbled in English text. I'll walk you home…
No. Honda laughed inwardly, scribbling another word.
Please. Anzu rolled her eyes.
Stop it. No is the same in all languages.
Come on, I don't bite.
I can make it home on my own just fine.
We're heading the same direction.
Doesn't matter. Leave me alone.
Come on Mazaki-san. Anzu sighed, looking away from his gaze and finding the teacher's eyes on her. She smiled, jotting down notes and grinned when the teacher looked away.
No means no. Go home with your friends.
That's what I'm trying to do. Anzu paused, quirking an eyebrow and giving Honda a questioning look.
We're not friends. Honda's look matched that of Anzu's.
Why not? I'm trying to be nice to you.
You're friends with—
"Mazaki-san and Honda-san, note passing is not permitted in this classroom!" Masami called out, her eyes narrowed. "What is so important that it cannot wait until class is over?"
"Nothing Masami-sensai," Anzu whispered.
"I was just asking Mazaki-san if she would mind me walking her home," Honda answered, causing Anzu's eyes to widen while a frown formed on her face.
Masami frowned, taking the note from Anzu and dropping it in the trash. "Courting is to be conducted outside the classroom Honda-san."
Anzu's face turned deathly pale as the other students turned to look at her, laughing quietly to themselves. She blinked, not believing what had just been said. Groaning, she dropped her head to her book, feeling the stares and hearing the laughs.
The bell rang soon after, and Anzu was the first to exit the room. Honda called after her, but she ignored him. There was still a class left, but she didn't care. She needed to get away because the word would spread like wildfire and next would come Kazuma's terrible taunting and Jounouchi's jokes. Stupid Honda! Without looking up, Anzu passed her class and headed for her only place of solitude – the school library.
- - -
"Honda, what is this I'm hearing? Trying to court Mazaki?" Jounouchi laughed, jabbing his friend's arm. "I mean, if that's what you want, whatever. Maybe you can get her to do your homework or something."
Honda rolled his eyes. "It wasn't like that, but how am I supposed to tell that to the teacher?"
"It had better not be like that. Mazaki is a freak," Kazuma said coolly as he unlocked his car door. "The only thing she would be good for is to do your homework and then a one-nighter. If she's good, make it two or three; but that's it."
Honda shook his head, not making a move to open the backseat door. Jounouchi had already gotten in the passenger seat.
"What's up with you Honda? Are you coming or not?" Jounouchi asked curiously.
"Not today, I need to get home. My parents want to go out to dinner with one of my mom's friend's family, so I have to go with," Honda shrugged, noticing Anzu out of the corner of his eye.
"Whatever," Kazuma shrugged, starting the engine.
"I'll see you guys tomorrow then."
"Friday is it. Later Honda," Jounouchi called as the car started away.
"Later Jou, Kaz'." When the car had finally gone a far enough distance, Honda began to head the same direction Anzu had a few minutes earlier; only his pace was quick.
Ten minutes later, he arrived home, never once coming across Anzu. Feeling disappointed at not being able to clear up what had happened earlier, he entered his house, finding his parents there, ready to leave for the restaurant.
- - -
"Why do I have to come again?" Anzu asked for the third time, shifting around in her seat. She had changed from her uniform the moment she had arrived home into a sleeveless navy blue dress cut just above her knees with a lustrous translucent golden layer. She had quickly brushed through her long chestnut locks, allowing them to cascade over her shoulders and down her back.
"Because we don't want you home alone tonight; and they have a son about your age," her mother responded in the same fashion she had when Anzu first asked the question.
Anzu sighed, closing her sapphire eyes softly. While she had been in the library, she had hurriedly finished her work and then finished up the chapter she had been reading in The Count of Monte Cristo. She had learned that Andrea was indeed the child of Madame Danglars and Monsieur Villefort, and that the child had been buried under false pretenses because instead of being dead, the child had indeed, been alive.
"Sweetheart, we're here," her mother said, causing Anzu's eyes to open and bringing her gaze to the opened door.
Slowly, she stepped out of the vehicle and followed her parents into Sukoshi Itamae, one of northern Muko's best Italian restaurants. The lighting was fairly dim, causing the faces of the customers and employees to be shaded and abstract.
"Nyoko-chan, I didn't expect you to already be here. Let me introduce my family," Anzu's mother said, a bright smile on her face. "This is my husband Taji and my daughter Anzu."
"It is a pleasure to meet you, I'm Akeno, Nyoko's husband."
"Our son seems to have disappeared."
"I left my sweater in the car," Anzu said, turning to Taji, her eyes pleading.
"Hurry back," he whispered, dropping the car key in her hand and watching her hurry from the restaurant. "She'll be right back, she forgot her sweater. Well, shall we all sit? I don't know about the rest of you, but working all day has made me grow hungry."
"Sorry, Jou wanted me to call him," a young male voice said as he approached the table and handed the cell phone to his father.
"You must be—" Kaede began, but was cut off by her husband.
"Weren't you at our house a few days ago?" Taji interrupted, raising a brow curiously as he gazed at the young man.
He rubbed the back of his neck, recalling Taji's face, but not exactly placing it. Shrugging he sat down, noticing an empty chair across from him.
"Our daughter will return in a moment," Kaede said, clearing the puzzled look on the young man's face.
"Actually, I'm back," Anzu grinned, handing Taji the keys.
The young man raised his head, recognizing the soft feminine voice instantly. A soft chuckle escaped his lips when her eyes landed on him and familiarity shone in them, as well as shock and horror.
"Anzu, this is the Honda's son, Hiroto," her mother said, introducing the two for what she believed was the first time.
Anzu remained quiet, some color fleeing from her cheeks as she grimaced mentally. Of all the people her mother and Taji could dine with, it just had to be Honda's family. This is going to be a long night.
"It's nice to see you again Anzu-san," Honda said, a smile on his face.
Anzu-san…who does he think he is? Anzu groaned, forcing a smile.
"Have you two met?" Nyoko asked curiously.
"We have a few classes together. Anzu-san may only be in her first year, but she's extremely intelligent," Honda answered his mother, smiling at Anzu with kind eyes.
Anzu only smiled, half-heartedly that is. Inside, she was glaring. "But Hiroto-san is intelligent as well; he's better in history class for certain."
Honda chuckled, shaking his head. Two could play this game.
Other Disclaimer: I own the quote at the beginning; however, many things occur that I don't own.
I do not own Pride and Prejudice, those rights belong to Jane Austen (she did write it…right?)
I do not own The Count of Monte Cristo, those rights belong to Alexandre Dumas (Great book; nothing like the movie. The movie leaves out way too much, you have to read it)
I do not own the song Sad Exchange, those rights belong to the producers of Daredevil, the song writer, and Finger Eleven
Also, the words Sukoshi Itamae mean "Little Chef" according to my Eng-Jap dictionary. I'm not sure if that's how it's supposed to be, but I don't speak Japanese…only words like "Konnichiwa" and "Gomen" etc
And from what I've read, when you call someone by their first name with the suffix "-san" on it, it's almost as informal as you can get
Oh, and Taji's last name isn't Mazaki, but Honda doesn't know he's not her real father
Alright, well, I hope you all have enjoyed the first chapter to Missing Pieces I. If you're waiting for All Things New to be updated, I'll try to get it updated by Saturday since I don't work Friday or Saturday. Give me feedback; I'd like to know your thoughts (even if you're not a fan of the couple) But please, nothing negative like "I hate Anzu" or "This pairing sucks" You may want to hang around for this story and the sequel (imagine a sly grin)