Disclaimer I don't own any of the HYD characters nor the original plotline of HYD, but I certainly own this particular plot and all the characters I created for it...

Note : my main knowledge of the HYD universe mainly comes from the Japanese drama, that I watched entirely in one Saturday afternoon, and to which I developed a strong and uncontrolled addiction... So I'll developing my plot line in consideration with the actors/the choices that were done for the mini series. Anyway, this is kind of an Alternate Universe, but not completely : if you read it, you'll figure out what I mean soon enough.

Why this plot : I always thought Akira would gain from being put to the center of attention – after all he is SO cute in that drama – and that he deserved to meet a girl that wouldn't fall for him and would make him crazy ! Well, here she comes, she's French and poor Akira still doesn't know what's coming ! ;o)

Last but not least : I'm asking for your indulgence in advance, English is not my first language !


1- Clash encounter

The girl was sitting at a table in the highschool library, a book open in front of her. Though her notebook was open and she was holding a pen in her right hand, her eyes were unfocused, and her mind seemed to be wandering elsewhere, far far away. With her left hand, she was toying with a lock of her long light brown curly hair that had escaped from her ponytail. The rare students that were also trying to work in the library stole curious glances at her between two unsuccessful attempts. She was the newest transfer student at Eitoku Academy, and, moreover, a foreigneR : she was therefore a refreshing new source of gossip. According to the gossiping already going on behind her back ever since she'd arrived – less than a week before – her father, a successful French businessman, had moved to Tokyo with his family in order to put into motion the development of a Japanese branch of his biotechnology company.

Since her transfer, the young girl had not seemed very eager to speak with her new fellow classmates, keeping very much to herself, clearly less by shyness than by boredom. Anyway, her new classmates hadn't tried much to speak with her, considering, after all, that she wasn't really one of them, heirs and heiresses of the richest families in Japan. Plus, everyone knows that French people are strange, eat funky things and don't wash themselves very often, reflected most of the popular wannabes fashionistas that attended Eitoku Academy – even if they certainly know how to dress themselves. (Prejudices – sorry, couldn't help myself, but some people really dare ask about this when they meet French people... I'm really not kidding ! )

Sophie Dessay – that was her name, by the way – was not the least haughty or asocial, even quite on the contrary usually. But she was feeling a little down ever since she had arrived in Tokyo, two weeks before. Her father abrupt decision had severed her from most of her dear friends, and he hadn't even considered once asking for her opinion when choosing the school she'd be attending during their stay in Japan. She'd speak and read Japanese alright – she had taken it as a first foreign language in middle school, and, having always loved a challenge, had put a lot of effort in her study to master what she could of the language. But even so, since her father expected her to settle down on the other side of the world, she would at least have wanted to attend the Tokyo French Highschool, where she'd still have a link, even tiny, to her culture and country. But her father had been adamant : "When in Rome, do as the Romans", he pointed out, "I don't want my girl to be a self-centered ignorant fool. I want you to blend in, and for that, you'll go to a real Japanese highschool, and the best your results will allow you to enter." His choice had gone on Eitoku Academy, because his contacts in Tokyo had told him it was the best place there.

The girls in her class had seemed harmless enough, but the over-concern with fashion and rich heirs that she had detected in the most talkative of them had tired her rapidly. She missed her simple friends, with simple concerns and smarter preoccupations. And what was all that fuss about some guys, whom everyone called the F4, that those girls were babbling about all day long? What kind of guys want to be compared to flowers anyway?

Sophie sighed, and tried to regain her focus : it was hard to be surrounded by Japanese 24/7 now. The transition had not been the least smooth. She could already feel a headache coming, and it was not even two in the afternoon. She looked at the lock of hair she was toying with, and thought she had made quite a mess of it.

Oh that she wished that the geography class scheduled later in the afternoon would not completely sap the remaining illusions she had on being fluent in Japanese...

Akira Mimasaka was well-known in Eitoku Academy, as a member of the renown F4, heirs of the most huge fortunes in Japan if not in the world, and – as those things never come alone – four real hunks. Each of them had their way of dealing with their so-called 'eligibility'.

Rui Hanazawa was always thoughtful, very calm, very quiet, kind of 'bookworm meets model' type of guy ; you never really knew what he was thinking, though. He discouraged girls from approaching him with his few words and the fact that he was really involved with the beautiful model Shizuka Todou played its part.

Tsukasa Domyouji, the leader of their little group, had long dealt with it by repelling everything and everyone around him except for his three childhood friends and 'equals' by his violence, both verbal and physical, and the threat of red tagging those who pissed him off ; things had begun to change, however, ever since he had taken an interest in Tsukushi Makino, who, despite her modest background, had refused to take any of his shit and had bravely stood up to him in all his fury. She had won his respect and his love, along with the respect and friendship of the other members of the F4.

Soujiro Nishikado was quite another story : he intended to enjoy fully the popularity that his social status gave him ; he loved women, and made no mystery of it. As any real playboy, one could rarely see him twice with the same girl, or even without a girl.

Akira was much more like Soujiro than like the other two, but his preference did not usually go to girls his own age – he preferred his women a little more 'mature', as he liked to put it. It was easier to dump them, this way, after all, he argued, once the fun of the seduction was gone. Besides, they certainly knew what they were doing.

To say the truth, Akira felt a little bored, on the beginning of this afternoon. Rui wanted to be left alone so that he could read a little in the stairs of the fire escape ; Tsukasa was busy trying to get Tsukushi to forgive him for daring to hint that she might want to buy new clothes for the party his sister Tsubaki was going to throw a week from this day for his birthday ; and Soujiro had decided to get a new haircut style. The most annoying fact was that his lovers were either at work or had already lost their precious novelty. Whinny and needy females were not his cup of tea.

He didn't know exactly why, but he had decided to go to the library to kill time, for want of a better activity. It wouldn't harm him, after all, to study a bit for once in his life, he had reflected. And it was not as if he had attended lots of his classes lately, anyway. It had to have been at least a week till he set foot in one of his class.

When he saw that someone was already sitting in the best spot of the library – the one nearest to the largest window – he felt a little annoyed, but reflected he might be able to charm her into leaving the spot to him. The girls were always willing to do anything for a smile of one of the F4s in this school. He smiled to himself. It was great to be a handsome rich guy, some times ! He passed his hand into his shiny hair, continuing his observation.

From where Akira was standing, he could only see the back of the girl. She didn't seem familiar at all, though : he didn't remember ever seeing her at Eitoku. Her hair was not the hair of a native Japanese : it was distinctly light brown, with big thick pretty curls, gathered in high ponytail, flowing over her back in a gracious cascade. She wasn't sitting like real ladies should sit ; he could see from her leg position that her right leg was tucked under her, and that her free left leg was restlessly stroking the floor.

"Cute, but not very decent considering the length of the Eitoku female uniform's skirt", thought the young man with an inward grin.

He made his way towards her, and, gathering all the charm he had in himself, rejoicing in advance in the blush he intended to provoke on the girl's face, he delicately placed his hand on the junction of her neck and her shoulder ,where her shirt showed some of her skin, to get her attention.

"Hey, gorgeous!"

The reaction was quick, but not quite what he had expected it to be. The girl sprang from her chair, all of a sudden, removing his hand from her with a shiver as if it was pure dirt, and turned towards him with the most furious expression he had ever seen on a girl's face – save Tsukushi's before she had punched Tsukasa for the first time –, slapping him strongly in the process.

He wasn't able to help himself from bringing his hand to cover the spot that the strange girl had targeted. Boy had she put strength into this : his cheek was burning, and it had to be bright red with the impression of her hand on it from the feel of it.

Without even leaving him with the opportunity to say anything else, she burst out an enraged : "Who the hell gave you leave to touch me, you jerk?".

Akira was much too surprised to answer anything, and the pain in his cheek made him a little drowsy. He only managed a hasty and incoherent answer.

"Well... Sorry... I didn't mean... Forgive me...

- You wish !"

She turned her back on him as suddenly as she had got up, her exasperation clearly visible, and sat back on her chair. Akira remained silent for a few moments, pondering what had just happened. The rare students that had been working were now looking in the direction of the outburst, expecting the worst to happen – what was that girl thinking slapping one of the F4? Did she have a death wish or what ?

The only good thing was that Akira was no Tsukasa : he had never very inclined to give anyone the red tag, especially not to a pretty girl : he preferred to bed them. Then again, he had never been thus treated by anyone in public. He was still trying to understand where the slap had come from, when the girl turned towards him again, an eyebrow raised in wonder.

"Still here?"

Not that she had had an extensive conversation with him, but he could hear that her Japanese was good for a foreigner, though something in her diction would have betrayed her if her appearance had not been enough for that. Now that she was looking at him, he could see her features without having to guess much. Her wild hair framed a nice oval face, with two light chestnut fiery eyes, a cute little nose and well formed cheekbones. Her frown made her eyebrows almost touch each other in a very unlikely but nice fashion. Though she was seated, he could see that she had a nice figure – not the bony kind, the kind with womanly curves on a thin athletic body. The uniform didn't conceal her long legs, that were another hint of her being quite tall for a woman, on Japanese standards at least. Akira glanced around with a frown of his own so that the other students would stop staring, and then his eyes came back to the girl next to him.

"Are you dumb now ?"

On hearing her new question, Akira reflected that she couldn't know who he was, and that this had to be the reason for her feisty attitude.

"I didn't get the chance to present myself, said he. I'm Akira Mimasaka...

- Good for you, she answered, obviously completely unmoved by the revelation. I was trying to work when your lousy attempts at getting my attention disturbed me. Do you mind?

- I don't think I have had the honor to meet you before, he tried again. But you surely have heard of me, I guess... I'm part of the F4, here in Eitoku.

- Good for you again, I guess. Is that why you believe you can speak to me out of nowhere, addressing me as 'gorgeous' as if I was one of those brainless sluts that look up to your money and worship you as their god, drooling as you pass by ? That's the reason you thought you could casually put your hand on my body as if you were my boyfriend or something ?"

Akira was quite at a loss for what to say. Usually, if his F4 status didn't impress a girl – after all, the married women he liked to go after didn't care much for his position in the local highschool – his name, Mimasaka, betrayed the indecently rich family he came from, and that was sufficient to make any girl become all soft before him, especially when she could look at his handsome physique. Well, there was only one exception he could think of – Tsukushi Makino, but she was definitely one of a kind ! Or wasn't she ?

He had quite forgotten his project to try and study a little when the bell rang, announcing the imminent beginning of the afternoon classes. Without even waiting for his answer, the girl looked at her wrist-watch, made a face, and hastily packed her things in her backpack. Before she left, but after a short hesitation, she addressed him a few words again.

"Well... Akira, she said, as if trying to locate his name from a distant place in her brain. You may have the spot if you want it, I'm off to class. A piece of advice for your own good, though : next time, save your lame lines for those who care. A small hint : I don't !"

And with those words, she left the library, leaving a very amazed Akira to understand what had just happened.

When Rui made an appearance in the library a few minutes afterwards, looking for him, he found his friend standing in the same spot, his hand still covering his reddened cheek, lost in his thoughts. When Akira finally registered Rui's presence, he simply said :

"You know, Rui, I think I just made the most interesting and strange encounter ever."

He dropped his hand and turned towards his friend.

"And she slapped me."


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