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“Excuse me,” the nasal voice asked. Kurt resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew this day had been coming. How could he not? Still he had hoped that it wouldn’t be this soon. Instead of acknowledging the shrill tone, he focused on taking his books from his locker. At least he did with his right hand. His left hand traveled to the pocket of his jacket where his fingers brushed against the silver locket which held the particular combination of bramble leaf, clove, hazelnut, and white sage his mother had favored in her protections. Granted, they weren’t his herbs, but they were still useful nonetheless. The locket was cool against his skin.
“Excuse me,” the voice asked again, and this time its owner had put a hand on his shoulder. Kurt was thankful his fingers were still touching the charm. The last thing he wanted was a deeper knowledge of her set of problems. While the sounds of the hallway echoed around them, how could they not in a high school with over 1,000 students, the area around Kurt and the shrill voiced person quieted slightly. Everyone knew better than to touch him. It just wasn’t done. Even those Kurt was friendly with kept a respectful distance away. Kurt gave into the impulse he had been fighting as he turned to look down at a short brunette with shoulder length hair, chocolate colored eyes, and a truly hideous sweater. Kurt himself was wearing a fitted cranberry shirt with a full cutaway collar, black vest, and black slacks. Kurt narrowed his eyes slightly, but the brunette didn’t lift her fingers from his shoulder. She was persistent, Kurt was willing to give her that.
“Yes?” he asked, his tone far from welcoming. There was a small group gathering around them, something he never liked. He let go of the charm in his pocket, it had already done its work. Bending his middle and ring finger towards his palm slightly, the crowd dispersed. The smirk on his face matched his voice and the girl finally got the hint, lifting her hand and taking a quarter of a step back. Rather than press forwards, assert himself, Kurt waited. If she was going to be so bold as to push into his space, he would see what she had thought important enough to test the rumors.
“Are you…” she paused, seemed to think about her words, and then began again with, “I’m Rachel Berry.”
“Like the rest of McKinley, I know,” Kurt said.
“And you’re Kurt Hummel.”
“However would I have lived without knowledge of my own name?” Kurt asked.
Rachel stuttered. Clearly her illusions of grandeur had yet to be shattered. It was still a few years down the line. Before she began to speak Kurt finished taking the last of his supplies from his locker and flicked the door shut. The sound of metal on metal echoed, and Kurt held his palm up, silencing her. She clearly wasn’t used to such a gesture, based off the flush of color that rose to her cheeks.
“Let me guess, my fool of a step-brother said something about hearing me sing and you want me for your little club, to sway in the background as you sing ballads with him or Jesse St. James?” Kurt inquired. Rachel took another half step back, clearly shocked.
“Ms. Berry, even if I wasn’t what I am, I wouldn’t need any of the talents I’ve developed to know that much. Finn has never been good at keeping secrets, and you,” he said making a gesture that took in the girl and the air around her, “reek of crazy.” The color on her cheeks grew darker, and she was clearly far from being happy at being called out in such a manner. Kurt couldn’t bring himself to care. The sooner she got used to certain realities of life, the sooner she might find peace. The universe wouldn’t bend to her whim forever after all.
“How dare you...“ Rachel began, and Kurt could no longer resist. He pushed slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked into her shadow, her real shadow that was, and he felt his own shadow overlap hers. The push was enough to cause her to start coughing hard, and for the air to leave her lungs. Kurt felt his own breath grow short and pain spike behind his right eye slightly, but he didn’t care. Sometimes the cost was worth the effort. Now was one such time.
“Ms. Berry, remember just who you’re talking to and everything you’ve heard about me. Are you sure you want to put those rumors to the test?” Kurt whispered, stepping forwards. This time, she took a full step back, and the din of the hallway seemingly fell away.
“Ask yourself this, why should I be interested in your little club? You might attempt to appeal to my desire to travel, but I’m already a Cheerio, and will compete in more places than your club ever will. You and I both know just how little the status of being in a glee club means. I believe Coach Sylvester,” Kurt paused and allowed himself to drink in some of Rachel’s fear and hatred at the sound of the older woman’s name. It was a balm, a way to soothe himself after using some of his own power. Kurt continued, “Referred to it as the sub-basement. I’d have to double check with Santana. Now while there are people who I can tolerate in your little group, I don’t see any benefit to my current status. So the question is Ms. Berry, what do you have left to offer?”
Rachel sputtered impotently for a few seconds, but ultimately said nothing. Kurt used the time to narrow his gaze and partly close his eyes. He saw her real shadow again, if only for a few fractions of a second. By the time he refocused on her physical self, Rachel was about to turn away. Kurt pushed again, causing her to stumble over her impractical heels, the sort that were meant to look expensive and fashionable, but were really made of the coarsest material. Kurt stood behind her as she righted herself.
“If however, you want to ask about what else I might be able to do for you, well that’s another matter entirely,” Kurt said and that got her to pause.
“You mean…” Rachel began, looking at him with fear dawning in her eyes.
“Here are the rules, if you want my brand of help. The first, I’ll be paid upfront. You’ll need to cross my palm with silver as what I do is dangerous. The second, I make no promises. What I do doesn’t guarantee results. Third and final, in the future, I might call on you for something. When that time comes, you’ll give what I ask for, even if you didn’t get what you want,” Kurt listed. Rachel swallowed, thinking things over for a moment. Kurt waited, his face passive, even if he had a sense about what might happen.
“Alright,” Rachel agreed, giving a small nod. Kurt pulled his card from the pocket of his vest and passed it to Rachel.
“Wait three days, think things over. Contact me at that point,” Kurt instructed, turned on his heel, and walked down the hallway. Letting the crowds part around him, Kurt moved through the sea of students until he saw his step-brother. He didn’t need to push to get Finn to stand still. Rather, Finn naturally paused and waited for Kurt to approach.
“She approached you, didn’t she?” Finn asked as soon as Kurt stood next to the taller, if younger, teen. Kurt nodded his head and matched his pace with Finn’s as they began to move.
“I’m sorry, I told her not to…” Finn tried to explain. Kurt shot him a small look, the sort that wasn’t too hard to read and Finn stopped talking.
“It can’t be helped, it’s in both of your natures,” Kurt eventually said as they rounded a corner, “but just for that I’m not helping you with either History or Spanish for the next two weeks.”
“But Kurt…” Finn began to protest.
“Sorry, you know there’s a price. Besides, it’s not like Mr. Schue’s going to fail you, he needs you for a while yet.”
“Not with Jesse around,” Finn muttered. Kurt allowed his eyes to roll. They had been having this conversation since the former member of Vocal Adrenaline had joined the Glee club. It had been what pushed Kurt’s friend Mercedes to join the Cheerios. Kurt had followed, entering their ranks and rising quickly. Kurt’s unique talents and his dedication to the squad ensured he would stay there, after all he hadn’t earned the nickname HWIC for no reason.
“How many times do I have to tell you, his place on the New Directions is far from permanent?” Kurt asked.
“Well I’m not going to believe it until I’ve seen him leave,” Finn sulked, “and you never tell me when that will be.”
“It’s one of the downsides of my particular gift set,” Kurt reminded, “I can see the what, but I don’t know the when, and sometimes the what changes. Futures are so difficult, they’re always in flux. However, I know Jesse’s leave is a sure thing.”
“So you keep on saying,” Finn replied. Kurt didn’t say anything, only shook his head at the taller boy and parted ways from him as he went down the hallway to AP US History. A part of him was wondering if it would be worth the headache to punch a hole and see just how Rachel would react to the pep-rally that would happen later today. However that future was soon to happen. It wouldn’t be worth his time or energy to get a vision. The closer the future, the easier it was to know, but there was still the cost of seeing it. Some things were worth waiting for, Kurt thought to himself as he sat down at his desk. The only person who wanted to sit near him, as always, was Lauren Zizes. The wrestler gave him a polite nod, one he returned. She had been one of the few people to ask him directly about his skills and art. The directness of her question had earned Kurt’s respect.
While the teacher droned about the prison camp at Andersonville, Kurt reviewed his list of ointments and oils, making mental notes to refresh his supply of star anise and ginseng. They were currently the raw materials he was using the most. It wasn’t his place to ask why his patrons wanted what they did. What his patrons did with their materials was for them to know. They had paid his price and obeyed the rules. Who was he to question them?