Chapter Text
Another term, another year. The thought that it would be his last at the school should have given Takatora some peace of mind. Yet knowing that he’d be going straight to work alongside his father after graduation, it didn’t exactly leave much to look forward to. He shook off the pessimistic thought as he approached the school gate, glancing down at his watch. There’s still plenty of time to get to homeroom, Takatora thought. No need to rush.
He took his time strolling up to the main building. The large windows and panes of glass on the front of the pure white building were almost reflective, bouncing the early morning sun out to cast away the mists from the night before. Taking in a deep breath, Takatora could fully appreciate all the individual scents drifting through the air - freshly cut grass, flowers just beginning to bloom. Blossom petals littered the edges of the pathway he walked down, the occasion strong spring breeze causing them to break apart from their branches.
There weren’t as many students around as Takatora would have thought. It seemed that most had gone to their classes early to catch up with friends and start a new year on time. Some younger students were standing around in the locker area just in the entranceway of the main building, chatting idly. They quietened as Takatora approached, bowing to him before scurrying away.
He took his card out from his blazer pocket and held it up to the scanner on his locker. The school ID card had all the necessary information on it; name, date of birth, class, an embarrassing picture taken in the first year. Students used them for all sorts of things, such as buying food and taking out library books, but were most commonly used for the lockers. It opened with a click, revealing his pair of indoor school shoes, which he swapped for his outdoor ones.It hadn’t been a long time off – the break between one school year and the next was only a few weeks – but as he slid the shoes onto his feet, it felt that not even a day had passed.
The door gave off a potent scent of freshly applied gloss as Takatora slid it open. Several people called out his name as he made his way to his desk in the middle of the room; some giving him a wave, others a smile, the more formal students bowing in his direction.
In the seat behind his, a girl sat slumped over her desk, arms dangling down the front. “Yo, Takatora,” she sounded still half asleep, dragging up a sluggish hand as a kind of wave.
“She didn’t get enough sleep, as always,” a boy wearing thin, black glasses beside her laughed, greeting Takatora with a quick bow.
“It’s not my fault!” the girl retorted, her voice muffled by the table as she made no effort to move. “They shouldn’t make school start so early.”
“You say the same thing at the start of everything year, Tomiko,” he sighed, shaking his head with a smile.
Takatora laughed as he placed his bag lightly on the table, taking out his books and placing them on top. A sudden hand clasped down onto his shoulder, causing him to jerk around in surprise.
“Hey, Takatora! Do anything nice in the weeks off?” a boy, far too energetic for that time of the morning, beamed. “My family and I went to stay in one of our holiday homes in France. It was kind of boring, though. There’s never much to do... The weather wasn’t great, either,” he rubbed the back of his head with an arrogant grin, running his fingers through a messy mop of - clearly dyed - light brown hair. “Well, I suppose that’s because it’s only April, you can’t expect too much.” He turned to the girl behind, leaning his forearm on Takatora’s shoulder, “Go anywhere nice, Tomiko?”
The girl finally dragged herself up from her desk, a book shaped indentation marked lightly on the side of her face. “Boasting as always,Shiro,” she laughed. “But, no. My mother and father were too busy with ‘important business work’ for us to go away anywhere,” she made quotation marks in the air with her fingers, pulling a face of annoyance. “I was so bored! I barely did anything remotely productive,” she slammed an elbow down onto the desk, resting her chin in the upturned palm of her hand. “What about you, Naoki? You must have had more fun than us.”
The bespectacled boy, who spoke to her just a few moments before, stopped unpacking his things and turned to face the trio, “I went on a business trip with my father.” He pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. “It was anything but fun.”
“Well, Takatora?” the light haired boy removed his arm from Takatora’s shoulder and plopped down into the seat next to his. “Surely you went somewhere grand? Oh, I guess it’s important for your family to stay in the city, right..?”
“Yeah,” Takatora nodded reluctantly, saying no more as he settled himself onto the cold surface of the metallic chair. He could barely remember the last time he went on a holiday. The last time must have been before mother… Takatora shook off the thought before it could develop further. Still, the only times he could remember going anywhere with his father was if he went on a business trip to some foreign country or another and he had somehow managed to convince his father to take his two sons along with. But even then, they barely saw him. They’d spend the whole time surround by the select few maids their father would choose to accompany them, while the rest remained to keep the mansion in order. It was practically the same as staying at home for the boys, just in a different location.
The room began to quieten and conversations died out as the homeroom teacher strode into the room, the heels of her shoes clicking against the white marbled tiles of the floor. She carefully placed her various notes and books onto the desk at the front, before turning to face the sea of fresh faced students in front of her. Several sported new haircuts, styled to near perfection with, what smells like, a range of expensive products.
The teacher delicately tucked some of her shoulder length, light brown hair behind an ear – her freshly manicured nails catching the light coming in from the open windows, brining in with it the crisp spring breeze. She flattened out some of the creases in her short, black skirt and readjusted her white and grey pinstripe blouse, decorated with ruffles. She cleared her throat to silence the few remaining speakers. “Welcome back, everyone. I hope you have a pleasant time off. As you’re all well aware this is you’re last year, therefore-” She began to run through the usual, generic speech, waving a finger in front of the students to emphasise certain points.
Takatora stopped paying attention after the first few sentences. He glanced around the room and focused in on the few remaining conversations, now spoken in mere whispers. Tales of lavish holidays and the latest business deals of their parents’ companies were all the other students seemed to talk about. He was used to this – the constant boasting of his peers – always trying to outrank each other in terms of wealth and social status. Takatora never really saw the point, but then again, he was at the top of it all. Everyone already knew of his family, how much power and control they had over the city. After introducing himself to someone for the first time, they knew. It’s impossible to hide a surname, after all - especially when his father owns the school and, not to mention, the entire city itself – the Kureshima name is a commonplace.
“So now,” the teacher began finishing up her speech. “I have someone to introduce to you… You can come in,” she called over to a figure stood waiting outside the door.
The room filled with whispers and turning heads, all eyes on the door as it slowly began to open.
“Hey, did you know we’d been getting transfer student?” Tomiko prodded Takatora’s back, keeping her voice quiet enough to mix in with the low buzz of the other students.
“No...” Takatora trailed off, keeping his eyes fixated on the slowly opening door.
A boy shuffled awkwardly into the room. The most notable thing about him was his hair. It fell down to just above his shoulders; completely black except for a single white streak through his fringe. One side was tucked behind his ear, pierced with a single silver ring. There was an air of uncertainty about him as he walked up beside the teacher, dragging his feet a little. Was it nerves? Or was it arrogance? He didn’t make eye contact with anyone in the room; instead focusing on readjusting the position of the books he was carried in his arms. One, two, three books he held in his grasp. Two looked to be some kind of textbook, but not ones the school used for their teaching. The other was more of a notebook, in considerably worse condition that the other two, with loose sheets sticking out at angles. He also wore a pair of silver framed glasses that seemed maybe a little too large for his face. His overall appearance was odd to say the least.
“Now, everyone,” the teacher held up her hand to reclaim everyone’s attention. “This is Sengoku Ryouma and he’s going to transferring into the class as of today.”
Ryouma bowed his head ever so slightly, more of a nod, and looked up to watch the sea of faces observing him with hawk like eyes.
“I know it’s a weird time to be transferring to a new school, but do your best to make him feel welcome.” She turned to face Ryouma, “Since it’s the last year, you needn’t worry about joining any clubs. I’m sure most of the students will be attending clubs less as the year progresses in favour of studying.”
Ryouma simply nodded.
“Now, there’s a free seat over there,” she pointed towards a spare desk near the front of the class, two rows in from the window. “Oh, and if you need anything or have any questions, Takatora over there is our class representative and the head of the Student Council. Any queries, any problems, he’ll be able to help you.”
Takatora jumped slightly in his seat at the sudden mention of his name, quickly covering it as he shuffled in his chair. He tried to meet the transfer student’s eyes to offer him a friendly smile, but the boy seemed to be more interested in pulling at the sleeves of his blazer and looking down at the ground. He certainly is strange… Takatora could help but think. I wonder where he lived before coming here- Takatora stopped his thoughts suddenly, realising he was already beginning to look down on the new student before he’d even said a single word. I’m just like the rest of this lot, aren’t I?
“Well,” the teacher continued. “I think that’s about everything. Anything you’d like to add, Ryouma?”
He shook his head.
“Right then, if you’d like to take your seat over there, we’ll begin the lesson. If anyone has any questions for Ryouma, I’m sure he’ll answer them during the break. For now, I’ll do the register,” she announced as she began to read off a series of names.
Takatora, like the rest of the students, continued to watch the new addition to the class with keen interest as he made his way to the free desk. He still didn’t make eye contact with anyone, and didn’t seem to take notice of the whispered conversations about him, as he began to lay his books out in from of him and took his seat.
“Doesn’t he seem, I don’t know… off to you?” Shiro faced the three of his friends, their desks pushed together in a square formation, as he took a mouthful of rice.
“I thought the same! He barely bowed at all, and did you see they way he didn’t even acknowledge Takatora? What a nerve!” Tomiko began to get irate, jabbing the air with her chopsticks as she spoke.
“He’s probably just nervous,” Naoki said reasonably, picking at his remaining salad. “It’s a perfectly natural reaction to being put in the front of a room full of people you’ve never met. You’d be nervous in that situation, too, Tomiko.”
“Sure, but even if you’re nervous you wouldn’t act that way,” she said determinedly, leaning forward across the tables. “You’d make the effort to appease those you’re being greeted to and carry yourself with some honour!”
“Hm, maybe he hasn’t been taught that…” Shiro suggested between mouthfuls. “Takatora, you must know something about him. Where’s he from?”
“He said he wasn’t aware we’d be getting a transfer student,” Tomiko spoke before Takatora could even open his mouth; he was still chewing on a piece of tofu.
“Eh? But surely your father would have mentioned if you were getting a transfer student in your class, wouldn’t he?” Shiro watched Takatora with a confused expression.
“…He’s been busy lately,” Takatora lied, swallowing his food. Well, it wasn’t really a lie, just not the complete truth. His father was always busy; he simply hadn’t spoken to him for some time. “I don’t know anything about this.”
“Anyway, what about when everyone tried talking to him during the break? He was so dismissive; it was like he didn’t want to know any of us! You can’t put that down to nerves,” Tomiko continued her ranting.
“He was probably just overwhelmed. So many people asking him questions all at once, can you blame him? At any rate, just give him time. I’m sure he’ll come round,” Naoki responded in his usual calm manner and Takatora nodded in agreement.
She sighed, “I don’t understand why you too are defending him. I mean, Takatora, aren’t you annoyed that he blatantly ignored you this morning? I know he’s probably not from anywhere near here, but you’d think he’d have heard of your name by now...”
Why did it always come down to that? Takatora though bitterly. “Well… I don’t mind, really,” he hesitated before brushing off the comment. “It’s as Naoki said, he probably just needs some time to adjust to things, right?” Takatora turned to Naoki, who nodded back to him.
“Exactly, it’s perfectly reasonable.”
“Well, whatever,” Tomiko gave up and turned back to her lunch, continuing to eat heartedly.
“That white streak in his hair is definitely unnatural, too!” Shiro announced after finishing his first round of rice.
The three turned to stare at him, blank faced. Naoki coughed into his hand.
“What? …Oh, right. I’m one to talk, aren’t I?” he laughed, running his fingers through his light brown hair as the others nodded. “Anyway, are you sure you don’t know anything about him, Takatora?” Shiro asked, suddenly changing the subject, “anything at all?” He sounded unusually suspicious.
“Nothing,” Takatora found himself repeating what he’d previously said. “I don’t know anything.” He gazed absentmindedly over to the boy in question, sitting alone at his desk. “Maybe I should go over there, try and speak to him… See if he wants to join us or something.”
“What?!” Shiro and Tomiko both exchanged glances. “But he completely ignored you earlier and hasn’t spoken to anyone all day!” Tomiko began to protest as Takatora stood up from his seat.
“It’s worth a try, isn’t it? He might just be uncomfortable around lots of people. Plus, he’s new; he won’t know his way around yet. He’ll need someone to help him, right?” he began to walk away before they could say anything else.
“But-” Shiro cut himself off, hearing a light bout of laughter to his side. “What?” his head snapped towards Naoki’s direction, allowing Takatora to get away.
“Honestly, you two,” Naoki continued to laugh. “Just let him do what he wants.” He could feel the intensity in their glares, but didn’t pay them much more attention as he returned to his lunch.
“Um, it’s Ryouma, right?” Takatora hovered in front of the new student’s desk, somewhat awkwardly. “I’m Takatora…”
The boy looked up from the book he was quietly reading as the warm, midday air flowed through the open windows. The rest of the students in the class were sat throughout the room, some grouping their tables together like Takatora’s friends, all eating their lunches. It seemed that Ryouma was too engrossed in his reading to notice.
“I thought I’d wait till everyone else left you alone before I introduced myself. It must be annoying to have so many people around you asking questions, right?” Takatora gave a friendly smile when he met the student’s eyes.
Ryouma instantly looked away, turning the next page of his book over, “I’m not really bothered.”
“Fair enough…” he didn’t really know how to reply. “Oh, have you been shown around by anyone yet? The school’s quite big; it must be so confusing if you’re new. It all looks so similar,” Takatora smiled as he looked down at his watch. “Hm, we should have enough time before lesson starts. I can give you a quick tour around if you’d like?” He noticed that Ryouma didn’t have any food out on his desk, “I can take you down to the cafeteria and show you where to get something to eat, as well. The food here’s actually pretty good; we have some of the best chefs in the city.”
“It’s fine. I’m sure I can find it myself.”
“Well okay, then. If you need anything, just ask… And you’re welcome to join us, if you want. We’re sat just over there,” he pointed, but Ryouma didn’t look up from his book.
“Thanks,” the word spoken didn’t have any emotion behind it.
Wow, he really is as dismissive as Tomiko said… Takatora thought as he weaved his way through the tables back to his friends.
“Well, how’d it go?” Shiro looked up from his second, maybe even third, round of rice.
Takatora sighed, sinking down into his seat, “He’s as you said…”
“I told you,” Tomiko seemed satisfied with herself as she popped a cherry tomato in her mouth. “You shouldn’t bother with him.”
Takatora looked over at Naoki, who simply nodded. “Give him time.”
“Okay, that should be enough for today,” the teacher announced as the bell rang to signify the end of the school day. He slowly collected his things from the desk and walked out of the room, as uninterestingly as the lesson itself was.
“Aah~! First day’s finally over!” Shiro reclined back in his chair, arms stretched towards the white panelled ceiling, not a stain or mark in sight. “I forgot how mind numbingly boring Mr. Honda’s history lessons are!”
“I could feel myself dozing off when he started talking about the Meiji period,” Tomiko yawned. “I’m surprised I even managed to stay awake.”
“As are we,” Naoki laughed. “How much sleep did you actually get last night?”
“I don’t know I lost track of time after watching some of the old Gaki no Tsukai No Laughing Batsu Games. Hamada got hit nearly 200 times!” She laughed, remembering the hilarities she had watched the night before.
“Yeah, you look a bit like him too. Hamada, I mean.” Shiro leant against Takatora, forearm on his shoulder again.
“What, How do I?! You’re saying I look like a gorilla?!”
“You’re insulting yourself there,” Naoki pointed out from beside her.
“Don’t you think Takatora would be Tanaka, then? If he was to be anyone, it’d be Tanaka,” Shiro ignored Tomiko’s questions.
“How does he?” she huffed.
“Actually, that I can see,” Naoki stepped forward. “Tall, thin, long dark hair-“
“Hey, I am here, you know!” Takatora laughed and the others joined in. They continued to chat idly as they collected up their things, along with the rest of the students.
“Hey, where do you think he’s off to in such a hurry?” Tomiko nodded towards the door.
Takatora looked over just in time to see Ryouma hurrying out, having collected all his things as soon as the bell started ringing, and made it out the doorway while everyone was still packing up. “…I don’t know,” Takatora thought out loud.
“I’m telling you he’s weird,” Shiro said. Judging by the reaction of the rest of the students in the class, now exchanging glances and gossiping loudly, they all agreed.
“Did you have a nice first day back, young master?” the well dressed butler asked, a genuine smile causing the wrinkles of his ageing skin to show prominently, as he opened the car door for Takatora to step into.
“It was okay, thank you, Jii,” Takatora smiled at the elderly man as he seated himself in the back of the car.
Jii closed the door once more and rounded the large vehicle to the driver’s seat. “Are you still happy for me to park here, young master? Are you sure you do not want me to pick you up outside the school? It would be far less for you to walk.”
“You’re over exaggerating, Jii. It’s really not that far. Besides, you wouldn’t even be able to move the car if you picked me up outside the school; everyone would be crowding round the car, trying to catch a glimpse of my father, as if he’d actually be here,” he scoffed.
“I think you are the one exaggerating now, young master,” Jii smiled in the rear-view mirror as he began to drive out of the back alley he parked down. “I’m sure the students wouldn’t be that bad.”
“You don’t know what they’re like, Jii. But maybe you’re right. They’d probably just stand there and gawk. I know I should be used to that by now, but it’s still tiring.”
“Whatever you wish, young master. I have no problem picking you up from here, but in the winter months, I must insist I pick you up closer to the building. I wouldn’t want you to get ill from the harsh weather.”
“Jii,” Takatora shook his head, but couldn’t help smiling. The butler had always been kind to him and he appreciated him more than the man could ever imagine. “You know that’s ridiculous. It’s really not that far.”
“Well, you can’t fault an old butler for worrying about your health, young master.”
Someone has to, Takatora though. That’s what he’s thinking, but he can’t say it.
The rest of the car ride didn’t last that long but Takatora enjoyed listening to the butler wittering away about his day of cleaning and shopping. He always loved hearing of his mundane activities; it was a nice break between the constant gloating of his schoolmates and the melancholy silence of his home.