a total buzz kill

[Kiyoshi Nikolai]

They started coming for him, and Tegan went on the offensive, springing from his stance near Elise’s door. He plowed into the one in front, driving that Rogue into the one behind him. The Rogue who would have been at the bottom of the pile feinted left at the last second, dodging the fall as Tegan took his companion down in a killing grip.
The commotion brought one of the building’s residents into the hallway,

[/color]

“Whaddya mean, ‘Where’d it go?!’ ‘Uh-oh’ my ass!” a voice screamed accusingly, the air of menace hiding behind the words clearly threatening whomever his companion was to answer the question the right way and fast. The student’s voice was both loud and intrusive as it filled the entire classroom and gained most everyone‘s nosey attention; grating was the technical term, Nik supposed. It mimicked both his appearance and personality, becoming something equally invasive.
This loud mouth’s hair must have once been black, as was most Japanese boys’ color, but now it was badly bleached, becoming a mix of brown hues that lightened more toward his middle parting but didn‘t at all save Nik‘s thoughts from thinking he had washed with anything less than poo, and it was trimmed in such a pathetically, short cut that he must have been forced to spike it with gel in order to establish any order. The bully’s face resembled a puffer fish, with a pair of teeny-tiny black coals and a largish mouth behind ridiculously huge lips and thick eyebrows striking in a downward arch that just spoke of his testy mood right this moment. The poo for hair, spiking miserably every-which way was deeply contrasting with the red-orange trim of his white sweater and baggy pants that was the school uniform for Hidamari Upper Secondary School. The kid didn’t wear his tie though, it seemed that was too ‘cool’ for him and yet, the added color would have made the bully look more of an idiot in Nik’s eyes.

“We’re not foolin’ around, Kid! Watchin’ that money was your job!----” he was yelling at some sniveling, subservient student with looks passing as much as invisible goes and he was no doubt as empty in the head as the three goons standing behind the object of all that noise. They must have been the ‘we’ he meant and yet they weren’t at all that threatening in appearance even though they were seeming to stand so tall behind their ‘leader’ as if they were important.
The whole thing just spelled out the word: annoying to Nikolai and so he threw his head back into the pages of his newest novel, trying his best to ignore all of the impending noise and crowd like it didn’t exist to him in the first place. Because, to him, it didn’t.

but the human took one look at the confrontation and wisely decided to butt out. “Oh shit!” he squeaked, then immediately spun back into his unit, slammed the door, and threw all the locks.
Totally unfazed, Tegan pounced fast and hard on the Rogue he held on the floor, ripping one of his blades across the suckhead’s throat. It roared and sputtered under the swift poison of the dagger’s titanium edge, oozing gore as its body began a rapid meltdown.[/color]

Something rather heavy and metallic conked over onto the floor with a sickening loud crash, causing startled gasps to spread about in the classroom before banging a few times across the tiles, a much lighter ping echoed through the air simultaneously: probably a desk and the dork’s pencil was Nik‘s guess. “Did one of your snot-nosed classmates steal it?!” the bully was yelling, the sobbing excuses that followed after were too mumbled and concealed by something to be of any understanding and yet the accusation had everyone in the room whispering now.
A pair of intelligent gray eyes narrowed onto the book’s pages in concentration until they became little more than slits, a cascade of midnight locks falling into his vision at the edges of his glasses rims.

“Your turn,” Tegan told the other one as it attempted to scramble out of the way.
The vampire threw its arm out, swiping at Tegan with its blade, but it was a careless move, even for a Rogue. When it had the chance to come at him, it hesitated, started inching to the side, drawing things out. Distracting him, Tegan realized in that next instant, when he heard the sudden crash of breaking glass coming from Elise’s apartment.
“Son of a bitch,” he growled as the female’s scream shot through the walls.[/color]

He could dimly hear the clatter of a sliding door pushing open and more bodies of loud mouths joining this happy little gathering of stupidity as the situation escaladed. “We need that money, shorty. And we need it now! The away-game costs from the first-years was due yesterday.”
“I-I’m sorry! But I swear it was here! I didn’t move it from my desk!”

The Rogue chose that second to fly at him, but Tegan was ready for the attack. He leaped out of the suckhead’s path, landing in a low crouch behind it and coming up fast with his blade. [/color]

“One of you’d better find it. Now. What? Can’t catch a date without the cash to pay for the face job, you’d need?” There was a scrambling of bodies as the ‘minions’ must have spread out about the room and the resulting crash of more desks was Nik’s answer to that thought as he ducked his head further into his book for one more go.

He skewered the bastard in a split-second’s move and was gunning for Elise’s door before the dead bulk of the Rogue hit the floor.[/color]

“You with the book, move outta’ the way.”

Using mental will and brute force, Tegan smashed the apartment door off its hinges and stormed inside. Elise was on the floor, facedown, her spine trapped beneath the heavy boot of the Rogue who’d come in through the window.[/color]

“Hey you there! Are you ignoring me? I said move or I’ll force you to, brat! Unless you’re the one who nabbed that cash!” Kiyoshi Nikolai growled as he was once more forced to curve his attention elsewhere than the Breed’s world of Lara Adrain and her book: Midnight Awakening. One of the bully’s goons was standing over him, no doubt seconds away from searching through Nik’s desk for this supposed missing money. Most of the other classmates in the room were standing up against the far side of the wall, as far away from the action and their desks as they could be, fear showing in their eyes as they stayed out of the trouble. Fights in Hidamari were not welcomed and definitely not encouraged, what with half of them having powers beyond knowledge and the other half able to get anything with their brute force: the consequences involved for starting these arguments were usually severe.

Nik was neither one in liking to play games or to start fights if he could help it, but he sure as hell finished anything that was ever started with him. He didn’t go looking for trouble, he didn’t go looking for anything, because he didn’t care about anything. But fortunately for these numbnuts he really wished to finish this book, a secret pleasure of his that only his mother and sister seemed to understand and know of; so he had zero qualms with looking into the ‘nightmares’ of this room.

Nik still hadn’t looked his accuser in the face and the guy was equally knowing of this, mouthing off at him, goading him with more accusations and dumbass threats. The big, bad bossman started scooting over in their general direction with a curse flying from his mouth as well and it was something that he wouldn’t have dared to pull on Nik if he’d known who he was. It wasn’t this kid’s fault though, no one knew him really even if they were from his old school but as of a week ago, Nik had finally been transferred over to Hidamari and had of yet to establish anything of a reputation (namely because he kept to himself). He had thought he didn’t care about his ‘hands off’ reputation at the past school, but now he yearned for it back if it would only allow him a little bit of alone time without such a mess of noise to distract him.
He had been forced into the transfer by his mother and younger sister out of worry that his powers might one day grow too uncontrollable and destroy him. Thanks to his demon father’s lack of appearance, he had no one to teach him the ropes in control and so that left him with the choice of this school, their classes, and their funky teachers.

Closing those darkening eyes of his, Nik calmed himself and reached out mentally to the emotions inside of the room. To the memories inside of the room. To the past.
And slowly as if loading in bits and pieces like the page of a website, Nik began to feel the darkness envelope him, the ‘nightmare‘ taking over. He opened his eyes sharply, the dull backdrop of noise coming from beside him having to be from that bully and his goon mouthing off some more. They obviously didn’t like being ignored or slept on in the middle of an interrogation, tough though. Nikolai was far more interested in the direction of where the accused kid’s desk used to be sitting at, was still sitting at in Nik’s vision.
He observed silently as the ghostly forms walked about him like they had been an hour or so ago, people chatting and intermingling with social classes, even a few in the back playing around with powers they knew they shouldn‘t be screwing around openly with. Where his attention centered at, he watched Mr. Invisible, watched what must have occurred while he was reading soundly in his little corner as the accused kid’s back was turned and he chatted up a shy blond sitting next to him. The darkest emotion he was detecting in the vision came from that girl though: annoyance and greed. Such a filthy combination too, which pegged her immediately as the culprit and yet he continued to watch because he was curious as to how she‘d done it. The kid didn’t even notice as the girl’s hand pocketed something from inside his desk, himself too busy pouring over the studies in front of him, on the notebooks sitting between them, apparently trying to teach the girl about some stupid math trick.

He blinked to clear his vision as he suppressed the memories once again but he didn’t say anything to the people now gathered around his desk as he sat back in his chair until the front two pegs floated above in the air and calmly placed his feet up high on his desk. The bully and his gang sputtered, insulted by his act of not caring and equally not answering any of their questions.
“You dumb shit, where’s my money!? Are you even listening to me?“ As his companions continued to fume, Nik looked for the girl in the room. The sneaky blond, he searched for her with those eyes of his even though he could have just taken another look into the ‘nightmares‘ to see where she‘d gone to. Figures. She already took off. Smart.[/color] Out of respect for not giving a shit about this girl’s business, he would have just kept reading, but Mr. Poo-hair and his numbnut gang weren’t going to allow him the kind of silence such a thing called for. His graying eyes found the subservient accused, cringing close to his desk on the floor and a small grin fell across his slender, feminine face.

“Was it worth it?” he asked him, letting the two pegs of his chair remain flush to the ground once again. The kid did a double-take before finally understanding that Nikolai was speaking to him but then he sat up straighter and his eyes bulged some, terrified at what he might be implying.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” came the hesitant response. The spectator’s around them both just kept looking confusedly back and forth.
“Do the math.” While the people around him burst into questions, Nik caught the shock and recognition in Mr. Invisible’s dull opal eyes. A hand shot up to his mouth when he finally understood the hint and then he took off down the hallway in a stumbling shuffle that had everyone blinking. His bully and the gang followed after him not long thereafter and after a few people finally took the hint that Nik was not going to talk to their stupid asses or answer their mindless questions, the class too left him and followed down the hallway.

Nikolai sighed to himself now that he was finally alone and yet his mood had drained from wanting to continue the book, so the pages lay untouched and closed upon his wooden desk. Shadows cast about the silent room and he turned his gaze to the left and out the glass windows with nothing more than a gloomy glare. Boredom cast its ugly little head, but at least it was quiet now.[/size][/blockquote]

[Saito Ren]

"Saito-san," Dr. Ito addressed Ren, peering over his half-moon glasses to the placid university student sitting in front of him, who was carelessly looking about the room until that moment, when the attention was called for. Ren's big blue eyes looked back, but were masked by the reflection of the light in his own, round glasses. In normality Ren was like any other normal, nearsighted human, but calibrating his powers of hypersensitivity to just a slightly higher level was very difficult. It was still mostly an "all-or-nothing" thing, but at least he could turn it on or off... Well, almost. The sixth sense was still problematic at this point... Very.

"Yes, sir?" Ren encouraged, sitting very still, hoping that the reason why the dean called him into the office was not because of what Ren feared. He felt like a little child at school again - getting called into the principal's office. The best children always fear it the most - mostly because the best children have the best secrets to hide. Bullies were very blatant - people need to know when they have problems. But others, like Saito Ren, preferred to take their secrets to the grave. Nobody was supposed to get involved in his life. Ren didn't need anybody.

"You had exceptional scores on last week's art history exam... One of the highest in the school," the little bald man explained, Saito Ren's file sitting meekly on his desk, "I want you to do me a favor. Akiyama-sensei, over at the upper secondary school, is in desperate need of a helper for his art class. I usually send Nisei-san, but he's been absent all week. Would you mind doing it? Akiyama-sensei knows little about art," Dr. Ito explained to Ren through a small series of long breaths. Ren, of course, was overjoyed that this was what he was called in for, and not for anything more serious.

"Of course, Ito-san," Ren grinned cleverly, "Anything to get out of class," he joked, but was merely met with an odd look from Dr. Ito. Upper secondary school kids, eh? They were Ren's second favorite type of children, after lower secondary school kids - who were much cuter. Being a teenager was so... tedious. Ren hated being a teenager - remembering his dear friend Freddy who caused him to go from asexual to a sex-fiend within a year. Perhaps Ren was still stuck in high school, it seemed. Nothing had changed but the length of his hair and inches to his height. Saito Ren left the office in a good mood, however, resting his hands behind his head and humming as he strode across the campus to the other.

Ahh, Hidamari upper secondary school. Saito Ren knew the halls well - he went there not too long ago. He was also taught by many of the same teachers, which was always weird. Having someone watching you grow up - with memories of when you were an insolent child, pubescent boy, and adolescent teen and become a real young man - was almost too ridiculous to bear. The fact that someone could know you for so long... Seemed impossible, and almost parental, but encroaching upon his privacy. He felt ashamed, and embarressed. So many people loved and cared for him - so many people who were only believing in a lie. Ren could sense their broken hearts before even they could.

Easily he found his way to the art classroom, passing up a large bunch of unruly children - who should've been in class instead of wandering the halls. The teachers were certainly a lot lazier these days... Hm. Adorned in the casual uniform of the university, Ren made his way a head above the other teens. He suddenly felt old, like a wisened sage who had, indeed, made it out of high school alive. How ridiculous he felt. Stepping into the classroom, the long-haired blonde expected to find Akiyama-sensei, not an actual kid.

"Hello? You're here a bit early..." Ren observed nervously, poking around the canvas-cluttered room for Akiyama-sensei, who, unlike this kid, was not the type to be at class early and prepared. Finding no one, Ren sat casually on top of the desk in front of the jet-haired boy, watching him nosily. For being just recently deprived of being a teenager, Ren was still fascinated by them. This boy, luckily, was one of the prettier ones. Aesthetics were an innate part of Ren, who loved beauty. Without symmetry, flowing lines, angles, sharpness, glow, there was nothing. There was a beauty in effortlessness, and one in precision. Anything half-assed was simply unacceptable.

[Kiyoshi Nikolai]

He was thinking again.

It seemed that always tended to happen whenever he got the alone-time he craved and yet he didn’t have the energy or piece of mind to read, write or draw something as was custom to his hobbies. Most elders would tell you that thinking a lot was a sign of intelligence, a sign of deep understanding or of having a more mature soul than your current age and so as was not a bad thing in the least to do.
Nikolai disagreed.
Yeah, he was a year older than almost everyone in his grade so he could technically argue that the ‘older soul’ deal was what his problem was. And yet, the reason as to why he was a year behind in where he should be was really the real answer to all of his problems. As to why he was constantly thinking.

Well, that and his cursed powers.

They kind of had a say as well into why he never was able to do much of anything beyond thinking, anything beyond worrying. The ‘nightmares’ were his haunts and constantly never far from his being no matter how much he tried to ignore them. No matter how hard he tried to face them even. Those powers had defined him into who he was today, ugly as that thought was.

His mother would argue that he was deeply intelligent and so as that was why he was such a quiet, collective child whom spent most of his time by himself. Too bad such an easy copout was not able to erase the despair that cloaked him. Mind you, he was fiercely smart to the point where he didn’t even see a need in coming to school anymore beyond the classes that may teach him how to control his little post cognition ability.
As for the deep understanding line? Understanding wasn’t something he’d ever had a problem with but he was told that he thought differently than others and didn’t at all understand things in the general tense.
But he wasn’t thinking the: ‘Why me’s’ or the ‘What could I have done differently’ BS, he had already condemned those questions closed and buried along with the sickening conclusions he’d answered them with. His thoughts spread along evasion. What can he do to never let that happen again? How does he plan to finally stop the nightmare’s from taking over and destroying what little of himself he has left?

Those were his thoughts. And he was still working on the answers, as always, when a figure entered the room without him noticing. Nik supposed the sliding door had remained open when the fellow students had dashed off and that had to be why he hadn’t heard the thing open for this older teen, but as he remained deep in thought, hazel eyes casting dark shadows unseen out the window, he almost jumped out of his skin when the light voice pointed him out.

"Hello? You're here a bit early..." the figure spoke, his voice something between sing-song and deep yet seeming to fit in perfectly with the youth’s appearance. Nik spun to face the intruder with something of a glare across his feminine features that he couldn’t help was an instant response, his mop of midnight tresses swung about his face and landed lightly back in place and atop his glasses.
The first thing that Nik could note was that this kid was definitely not from their school, the casual dress would be instantly outlawed and the brilliantly beautiful, long blond locks would have been crossly advised against on the likes of what he barely understood to be male. He was as taller than Nikoali as he was thin and built finely to account for the fitting clothes he wore and yet those shades of reflecting blue eyes is what had Nik stepping back a bit to glare over at. Or up rather, since the youth had did one thing more than being taller than him, he had arrogantly sat atop the student’s desk right in front of him.

An internal radar alarm went off inside Nik’s head and he forced himself to return to his usual stoic calm: the surprise of this youth’s entrance had been really the only thing that had angered him. And really, it was his fault for being caught off guard; he shouldn‘t think so much. So Nik eyed the man in front of him as he silently took his seat again, settling his hands atop his desk where his novel and sketchbook awaited use. He was adorned in his own school’s uniform: white sweater with orange-red cuff links and orange-red slacks that matched the equally annoying piss-poor, orange-red tie. Surprisingly, he’d been told by his little sister that the suit looked good on him, but he sadly begged to differ and question Amaya’s sanity.

“I like to be prompt, if that’s okay with you. And just who the hell are you anyway? I didn’t know we were allowed to have University students over here any time they pleased. You must be a fill-in for that dumbass Nisei. Really, if you’re going to teach art you should know how to bloody well do it first or at least study the basics. And if you’re equally going to ‘help’ teach it for a teacher who doesn’t have his shit together, then you should know what you’re doing too.
Please tell me you at least know the definition of a focal point.” The words flowed off his tongue in a mindless politeness that didn’t at all match his rough choice of words. That was Nik, honest to the point of pissing people off, but equally harsh in his judgment of others.

[Saito Ren]

Ren recoiled slightly at the student's almost acrimonious assertion. The adult in Ren jumped to be scornful, to tell the student what a rude, insolent brat he was. He looks like a cat, but he speaks like a snake... Ren thought to himself, merely adjusting his head a little higher, as if examining a subject from a different viewpoint - down his nose. This one... was deffinately the precise type - razor sharp honesty. In fact, that honesty was the only thing which kept Ren from reprimanding the kid. Indeed, promptness is a personal choice; university students were known for slacking off; Nisei was a bit of a "dumbass"; to teach anything required knowledge; and Akiyama-sensei rarely had his "shit" together. It was the age at which he spoke which threw Ren for a loop, however. Pretty little persnickity thing.

"I am Saito Ren," Ren chuckled, his soft tenor voice wafting through the air, "And I... am a terrible artist." he added, simply, acting as if he was about to go on, but slinked off his position on the table and went to the window instead. This was the game Ren played - terseness enough to drive anyone insane. Always saying half of what he meant, always leaving out the importance parts like a dramatic pause. The window interested him little when the gray-eyed boy was there. That boy... So curious. Ren watched him with interest, wondering if he was merely talking with a ghost.

It happened sometimes, and more frequently. Ghosts. Some looked like the stereotypical transclucent, glowing figure. Others, bloody, half-eaten carcasses with stench. While some were exactly human. There was no way to tell at this point (Ren was still working on that) but to either watch them very closely, or touch them. Ren found that most of his teachers frowned upon him talking to ghosts for pleasure, they made it taboo. However, Ren was very interested in what they had to say. Ghosts were fantastic creatures. But this boy... Ren put his money on human, but he had been mistaken before. There was just something about the kid... something ethereal.

Freddy liked art, Ren merely read about it, or reported on it. Memories were abound in the schools, tied to Ren like invisible threads. Like this room, for instance, was where Freddy loved to be, and often was. Crying mostly - he could never stand to be teased about being homosexual. Ren would often come and watch him paint, or be painted. An encouragement; an idol. A lover. Many a tender kiss... Ren blushed. Stop thinking about such things; this kid's gonna thing you're a pervert. The thought made Ren look out the window once more. It wasn't love. It was merely kindness. Through some convincing, Ren had already told himself that love didn't exist.

Saito Ren humorously wondered what this boy would think of him - probably the same as Nisei-san. It was obvious to Ren that this kid tough for his fragile look and beautifully feminine features. What good would it do to reprimand him - or try to conquer him? None at all. Ren was patient and nihilistic. He cared for nothing, and for no one (except maybe Freddy, and his mother). Certainly, he was kind and seemingly affectionate, but anyone that composed, and at the same time, so careless, was not of a normal human mindset. A picture of freedom and nature framed and hung with a nail upon a wall.

[Kiyoshi Nikolai]

This man had surprised him. In many more ways than one now and Nik wasn‘t one for surprises. First with his abrupt entrance into the room that had nearly made the poor lad flee and then with his cocky assumption that it didn’t matter if he was to plop his funky ass right on the desk in front of Nik and then the thoughtless bastard had gone one more step up in surprising the living hell out of him: He’d become more interested in Nik instead of put off by the student’s terrible personality.
Oddly enough, Nik had grown used to the fact that his certain personality attracted a lot of stupid idiots: people whom wanted to befriend him, people that wanted to ‘help’ change him, help save him, arrogant children usually whom thought it was there calling, of sorts, to just but into another being’s life. And Nikolai utterly despised these types. He wasn’t who he was because he wanted to be but he sure as hell didn’t need anyone else telling him how terribly depressing both his personality and peace of mind was. He knew first hand, quite obviously. And he didn’t need a knight in shining armor to come waste his time trying to save someone who didn’t want to be saved, someone who was far beyond saving anymore. Nik was tired of it. And usually if these types were dealt enough harsh comments or statements of fact, they would finally leave him be, insulted.

But this odd sort, this University student before him was strangely becoming more fascinated with him by the second instead of put off, despite Nik’s rude words even. And he seemed to continue getting all the more fascinated and remaining calm as he watched him with those devil-like fierce, blue eyes. Most would have lectured him, would have burst into anger and thrown a devil of a punch that Nik would have loved to return at the moment. But this sort wasn’t. And it awakened a curiosity in Nik that he was growing angry with instantly.

"I am Saito Ren," the man introduced, chuckling with an amusement that was beyond his companion at the moment. He answered Nik’s question next, in a sense, his words brief and holding back others that held a lot more meaning: "And I... am a terrible artist."
Nikolai only blinked back at him, not at all sure on how to respond to such a statement. He hadn’t been prepared for such a blunt fact; most would have tried to effortlessly prove to him about their level of mastery in art and yet this sort, hadn’t cared in the least. His words hinted at things unspoken, almost as if he was about to go into more detail following them, but he didn’t. He’d just stared off through the window that Nik had been day dreaming through earlier. At least the man had made some more space between them though, moving off of the desk in front of him to go over by the window, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world to him.

Yet Nik could still feel this Saito’s attention remained wholly bent on his person even before those blue orbs returned to staring at him again.

“Well, Sai-chan. The classroom for English majors is down the hall, second door to the left and I hear that their room especially shows a wonderful display of the female population as they’re exiting the locker room and hitting the track. I‘ll fancy their sweat is a lot more interesting to gawk at than whatever you think you can see from your current location.” Again with the polite and fake tone of voice as well as the rude honesty he’d come to use on everyone. He’d called him -chan, in which most adults would really find upsetting due to this person’s obvious masculinity but he wasn‘t expecting much of a rise out of this fellow. And yet, Nik had only been speaking what he’d been thinking aloud.
This person was far to beautiful for his own good and he’d had to continue insulting the older student just because he’d felt it would make him feel less guilty about all of his own staring. The little gripe about him going off to the English classroom was just because Nik couldn’t think of anywhere else this man would fit in. His looks, especially with the glasses spoke of intelligence unvoiced and Nikolai could find that he pictured this guy would do well with a crowd of onlookers about him, namely of the opposite sex. He felt completely awkward that such a character was wasting his time in this room with the likes of him.

He looked his companion over one final, lingering time before forcing his dark eyes downcast to the notebooks sitting neatly about his desk. He shuffled one of them open, his sketchbook, mentally trying to ignore the presence in the room so as he could draw freely what had just popped into his mind. The pencil he took up in his other hand began a life of its own, without hesitation beginning to mark the once void, white shades with swirling bits of dark lines that trailed uselessly about at first.

“Please do shut the door on your way back. As I’m sure you saw on your way in, most of this classroom is goofing off and is probably somewhere nearer toward the auditorium right about now, seconds away from fighting. In which case, I’ll be waiting for my instructor for some time because he’ll have to stop their rioting before coming here and I’d much rather start my work in a quiet environment without the hallway buzz prohibiting my focus.” It was only after he said this that he realized he’d never introduced himself yet, not that he’d intended to. It was wholly rude of him, yes, but he didn’t feel the need to exchange his name unless asked to.

[Saito Ren]

Sai-channnnn? Ren furrowed his long eyebrows deftly, a small movement which changed the shape of his face, and the course of his ideas. A sense of breezy curiousity was now clearly shown as an admitted undivided interest. The boy was beyond adjective. Ren didn't see him as necessarily "rude", but perhaps more along the lines of "blatant", which often can be mistaken for each other. Arrant. The kid expressed his superiority so confidently that perhaps he was, indeed, the dominant one in the room. Ren would have no objections to it, for Ren was always more of the subservient type, but calling him "Sai-chan" was either the most ridiculous thing Ren had heard, or the most adorable.

It was rather obvious what the younger "Senpai" had in mind - to get rid of Ren. Of course, as much as Ren enjoyed English, he was a man of duty, and his duty was to the art room. Senpai was still wrong, however. "Sweaty girls" were nothing to look at, in fact, Ren had quite enough of sweaty girls. They weren't "interesting", they were obviously perspiring. Boring. Dull. Common. Senpai, however, was not. He was interesting, and equally (if not more) attractive. There was no comparison - nothing to it. And in fact, the more Senpai wished Ren to go away, the more Ren was determined to stay.

From across the room, Ren's glassy blue eyes took in the boy's adroit movements as he pulled out a notebook and began to sketch impulsively. Crossing his arms, Ren slowly pulled his lithe frame from the window sill and slowly ambled over, peering over his glasses to catch what the boy was scratching away at. With a poor artist's eye, and not being very inconspicuous, Ren was practically on top of Senpai, and not making head or tail of the premature makings of the art. Ren recoiled as Senpai went at it again, trying to weave a control around Ren using his intelligent words to make Ren leave. Sai-chan merely smiled.

"Do you really want to abandon your beloved pet, Senpai?" Ren's smooth voice questioned with a grin as he casually walked past and shut the door to the hallway. Of course Ren was playing coy to get at the teenager. The kid had called him "Sai-chan", used only in the most affectionate of terms. In an almost sarcastic sense, Ren appeared to have taken the teen literally. Since Ren was pronounced the subordinate, the teenager was obviously now the "senpai", or mentor of sorts. Twisted, yes, but that was the way Ren made things. After shutting the door, Ren parked himself back on top of the desk in front of his "Senpai" and looked down at the sketchbook with interest.

Ren couldn't help but wonder at where this kid got it all. The superior attitude - a defense mechanism? Who knew (it only made the mystery more interesting). Every human being was like a walking Sherlock Holmes novel, it seemed. Saito Ren himself, being very hypocritical at the moment, was as well. Hypocrticial in the sense that he expected his own privacy to be respected, but everyone else's was fair game. Perhaps he just didn't get it, or was too naive. But each to his own, it would seem. Just as Senpai worked hard to keep himself upon a pedestal, so Ren worked the same to keep himself in the dark. Each to his own. Isolation. That was their common denominator at the moment.

[Kiyoshi Nikolai]

He wasn’t at all trying to hide his behavior, that he was disliking in having company of any kind. Especially company of the sort that was just one person. There was a security in numbers that he could relate to and not at all despise so much save for the belittling chatter he’d have to endure. Which had been the reason as to why he all but made his other classmates leave the room, he’d wanted that alone-time he’d been lacking for so long. He’d wanted silence. He had wanted to just freakin’ finish the last few pages in the chapter of his novel.
The presence of just one individual was too much to handle, far so more than the presence of all of his classmates in the room at once. Their constant chatter had been much more bearable then the unspoken, choking, silence one person brought to this room.

What Sai-chan brought to the room.

Growling to himself that even his thoughts seemed to be hindered by that older man, Nik furiously glared at the thick, white pages of his sketchbook and gripped the edge of his pencil a bit more so than needed. The student continued to pour out that odd picture onto the innocent page set before him, eyes trained on the first stages of one long, slender stalk of grass -overdue to be cut but somehow getting itself tangled in the beginning stages of some type of flower. It’d be a tulip eventually. A white one. Not that you could tell much when he wasn’t using colored pencils, but that was the color he always made them. Even when he saw them differently inside the pictures of his mind that fueled his imagination. They were always made white.
He didn’t particularly love flowers of any kind. And in fact, cal him simple, but his favorite flower was actually a crimson rose. But those tulips always ended up in his drawings somewhere. They were pictures of serenity, angelic forms of expression that could easily be dampened by a dark presence, squashed out. They were his sister’s favorite flower and the white tulip symbolized death. How very cheery.

The teen was acutely aware of every movement the University student made and his pencil strayed into the air each time he was forced to tense and await for the other teen to quit moving. Nik’s dull eyes were grained into his work like he had wanted them to be, yet he knew it the moment the boy crossed those strong yet slender arms, the moment his lean back arched itself off of the wall by the window and those gangly, long legs started gliding toward him. Over him. His instincts were screaming alarm, practically begging for him to flee the damned room and it took every ounce of strength in him to continue with his façade that he felt nothing. Why the hell was the man so close to him anyway? He could even catch the lovely, sweet scent of him. The undertone of spice mixed with a musk that made his beautiful looks all the more masculine. Shit.

"Do you really want to abandon your beloved pet, Senpai?" The words were uttered in such a way that he didn’t need to look up from the delicate arch of a tipped wing he was working on: he could tell his companion was smiling without looking. He didn’t really care so much though, in fact, he barely processed the words for a second before the click of the art room’s door shutting firmly had him flinching (noticeably, this time) in alarm. Nik finally dropped his pencil with a sour grimace forming his delicate features as the man walked right back up to him and sat his funky ass right back down on the desk in front of his.

“Pet? Why the bloody hell would I want you for a pet? You don’t even seem to grasp the concept of the words: ‘play dead’ or ‘fetch.’ You’d make a terrible mutt, in fact,” he finally voiced, giving his companion one of his famed ‘death glares’ over the rim of his glasses although it seemed it would be doing no good because Sai-chan’s eyes were neatly glued onto his sketchbook paper, those cloudy orbs curious and without the upset he was trying to force into them. Nikolai glanced back down at the half-drawn picture, a few overgrown stalks of grass poking from the dry Earth with the makings of a tulip’s buds wrapped around its center and an obvious start of a huge butterfly’s post right atop the shadowed pedals. He blinked a few times, like he hadn’t expected that to be what he was really going to draw and then he picked up the pencil once again, going over his light-colored lines and defining proportion without sketchiness.

It was only then that he realized what the other man had called him. Senpai. Mentor. Teacher. He hadn’t been affected at first because, hell, he was called that by everyone really and well used to it by now. Nik was a year older than everyone in his particular grade due to that past incident that had succumbed to take over one full year of his life. It was a regular occurrence to be called ‘Senpai’ at least a dozen times in one day. He’d overlooked it at first, but now, he was annoyed by the term. Understanding it to be used quite differently than what Sai-chan had in mind.
“And don’t call me that. What are you implying? That I’m to teach your happy ass art?” Although the words held his usual menace and obvious annoyance, he wasn’t looking up from his work again, engulfed in the world of those butterflies and his focus. For there were more of them now, a flock of them started forming behind the first huge one, the one that took up most of the page, its wings being formed by odd designs much like glyphs from ancient times. Strange though, he’d never drawn butterflies before.

[Saito Ren]

Ren always enjoyed watching art being formed. It was as if the painter had some god-like power and held the mastery of creation in his utensils. Every detail, every proportional measurement made in the mind was akin to the subtle characterization and plot formation to Ren's field of writing. However, there was but one downfall. Ren could describe a character in full but would never be able to see them. With art description came to life, ready to walk off the page into reality - something writers can only strive to reach.

Senpai was an excellent artist, Ren could easily tell, and honestly assumed so. Looking over his sketch, which Ren casually ignored his Senpai's burning impatience, Ren was impressed and intrigued. At first he didn't see it, but as the lines unfolded to him the image became more clear - almost like discovering a person's true nature. It was a beautiful tulip, drawn with much conviction and attention. Perhaps it meant something to Senpai, as it would seem that this tulip was so well drawn that a hundred must've come before it.

At first Ren was surprised at his Senpai's responses, and maybe even the second time. This time he was quite expecting something of the sort, and the venom of his Senpai's words seemed to inflict no damage. And Ren wondered too, how might his Senpai self-destruct when his methods became useless? People could be pushed to the edge of a cliff quite easily, but the biggest ultimatum is do they jump off, or confront their fear? Personally Ren was just fishing to see if there was anyone behind this attitude, because right now he wasn't taking his Senpai very seriously.

"Be that as it may, dogs must be tamed and trained. However... even the most ill-mannered can be the epitome of loyalty," Ren pointed out in response with a slight shrug. What was he implying? Quite simply, Ren was offering his loyality and friendship over to his impertinent high school student. Most of Ren's university friends would be laughing their asses off at this point; but Ren was being serious. He had a fondness for the kid, a kind of strange affection that he hadn't felt in years.

Looking down, Ren caught sight of something new on the page; the makings of a large butterfly. There was something to be admired and to be disgusted in a butterfly... Such effortless beauty and a blissful life, however, so easily caught and destroyed. Butterflies were weak creatures whose beauty was strong, but therefore useless; right? Ren sighed, looking up again as his Senpai began to berate once more for calling him "Senpai". Well, he didn't exactly introduce himself... But the second half caught Ren; teach him art? Ren sat back, the glare of his glasses covering his narrowed expression.

"You may teach me whatever you want to, Senpai," Sai-chan replied, almost darkly, using the word "Senpai" as if he was saying "Master". But in fact, Ren didn't want to be taught art by this Senpai. It had already been tried by Ren's dearest friend, Freddy, and failed miserably. But those memories of learning and affection did not need to be squashed out by another. In fact, Ren was quite certain, and wanting, Senpai to refuse and tell him to get lost. However, the latter he would not do... "If you don't wish me to call you "Senpai" then you must give me another name. We both know that whichever one I decide upon will not sit well with you... However, I doubt that even your own name would sit well with you." a form of dry Ren-sarcasm. Unexpectedly expected.

[Kiyoshi Nikolai]

He was acting rather absurd, he knew. Mouthing off like he was to this teen wasn’t at all going to prove anything as well as it seemed it wasn’t going to be the way to attain his peace.
Nikolai wasn’t like this usually. Well he was rude, bluntly honest, sinfully sarcastic and a bit of a pushy brat on most days. However, more than anything, he usually kept a coy calmness about him at all times, a calmness he’d answer politely and smartly to like he did to his elders, a calm that kept his face blank and emotionless He’d stay like that for as long as he could unless he could seriously help it or unless the person of his general frustrations wasn’t asking for the abuse of course.

But he hadn’t reacted like that with this encounter at all.

He’d jumped straight from conclusions and had allowed a sickening rage to swamp his form and alienate himself from this older beauty immediately. Nik hadn’t really answered politely to the man once save for when he had forced himself to train his eyes away from that seductively tempting face. He was riled up and not at all keeping his emotionless façade for one second, because this boiling anger and something else he couldn’t identify was of course emotions that he hadn’t been able to stop. Oddly, he found himself contemplating what it was about this figure that had him in such a bind. Had him so angry and……panicked? Yes, it was fear. The other emotion he couldn’t escape in the youth’s presence was fear.
But of what?

Sai-chan was becoming more of an enigma every second with his ignorance of Nik’s words and his odd interest with Nik, himself. Again he found himself pausing as the man looked over his work with a careful, calculating eye that seemed to know a lot about art even if the man himself was a terrible artist. Which was actually too broad a term for him to say, really. Because this man was an artist in something, it didn’t have to be in actually drawing for he had already learned that this man was good with mind games and English.

"Be that as it may, dogs must be tamed and trained. However... even the most ill-mannered can be the epitome of loyalty.” His companion uttered the words as if he really did want to be Nikolai’s supposed ‘dog.’ He shrugged at him for no apparent reason, the motion apparently having some significance to his friendly words of loyalty. But Nik still wouldn’t look up from his work to see if the man was smiling or not.
“I already have a dog. Two of them,” was his mumbled reply, which was really pointless in saying as well as out of character to his particular mood. It was probably the only bit of giving away something about himself that he’d done through this whole encounter. Although, he supposed he had no ‘dogs’ in this bit of wordplay because today the word was apparently code for ‘friend.’
Now for his asshole comment; he acknowledged he should probably ‘cool it’ and probably stop showing off so many amounts of emotion in front of this stranger, that he should probably leave the room or just start ignoring the lad altogether. But he‘d been a butt so far, he wouldn‘t want to disappoint this man now, would he? “Your loyalty wasn’t being questioned. Shit. Who the hell asked you to come here anyway, Sai-chan? Because I sure as hell haven’t given an invitation of welcome once since you stepped through that door. So there shouldn’t be anything within my person that has deceived you into being so misinformed.” Rejected. Yup, Nik had so just rejected that innocent, little question of friendship. It was a more habitual move on his part than anything though and the words seemed completely hollow to him, almost like his fake politeness did.
However, he was relatively certain that this denial would still not be enough to make this teen listen to reason and just leave.

"You may teach me whatever you want to, Senpai.,” had been the first dark words the older teen had uttered this whole time and he sat back in his improper seat as if the words were meant to be taken seriously despite the very different method of voicing them he had used. "If you don't wish me to call you "Senpai" then you must give me another name. We both know that whichever one I decide upon will not sit well with you... However, I doubt that even your own name would sit well with you."

Fine. I understand. This guy isn’t going to listen to reason as much as he isn‘t rising up or getting scared off by my petty words. When one tactic fails however, it just means you need to approach differently with a whole new tactic in mind. Rising to the challenge, they call it. Fortunate for Sai-chan that Nik hardly lost any of his cool more so than he already had. If his continued efforts to push Ren out of the room didn’t work, self-destruction was not an option. He’d merely resort to more crueler methods, like this newest form of fun he was about to enter into:
“Here it is. The first lesson: know when to back down from someone who has nothing to lose. Because any fox can be lured into a corner, but you don’t have them disarmed until you have them knocked out.” This would be the only supposed ‘teaching’ his Senpai was going to do because Nik wasn’t at all going to take those dark words of teaching him to heart. If he’d had meant them, he’d have used that earlier, seductively teasing voice of his. And now Nikolai was dragging his gaze up to pursue those gorgeous blue depths, wanting to see the reaction his next words were going to enforce as a sadistic grin filled his once raging face. The sketch upon his desk was momentarily forgotten although completed and he absentmindedly scribbled a signature of his in that neat little flowing script.

“I wonder what the Board would think of this situation? Of an assistant teacher, not only incapable of assisting in the study he has been assigned to but he’s also shut himself in the classroom -alone- with one of the students. And who knows what he could be doing in there to the poor boy? What with the only witnesses inside being the student and himself. Would it really be so much of a stretch if the boy were hurt by him?
That new kid, whose only ever been quiet and kept to himself -never causing trouble, whatever he says happened in there would never be lies, would it?” And there you had his newest tactic: threatening Sai-chan. Of course, he wasn’t sure himself if he really meant what he said and if he’d ever used this tactic at his old school it wouldn’t have worked. Not because he had a history of lying though. But they were as nosey as hell in his life and bringing random bits of information into the front there. They knew he’d had a bit of combat training from his Grandfather’s dojo before his dad had left them. They’d know he wasn’t defenseless if something were to happen. Plus, they knew him to be intelligent enough to outsmart most foe. Not that Sai-chan landed in that ‘foe’ category in the slightest.
Here at Hidamari, he was relatively new, without his ‘high and mighty’ reputation, and thankfully not being pursued by hoards of the female population. They could buy his act if he wanted them to.

“Your damn right my own name wouldn’t sit well as long as its coming from your freakin’ smartass mouth. But then, it’s not like I’m hiding anything and I’d love for you to remember me.” Crumpling up his recent drawing somewhat, he threw the projectile in the direction of that beseechingly addictive face, not caring that his pencil rolled to the floor as it was removed from sitting atop the paper. He didn’t need to give his name aloud now and he wouldn’t, for the words: Kiyoshi Nikolai were firmly marked onto that paper in a handwriting most could read even for a guy.

[Saito Ren]

"I came here because I was ordered to. It's not might fault you're the only responsible child who came to class today; eh?" Sai-chan replied indignantly to his Senpai's first statement, after feeling slighted. There was no doubt that this kid was made of about three inches of solid steel. Impenetrable... There had to be some way to get this kid to chill out... Or, rather, warm up. He was cold enough. Goodness, he must have an exhausting life, Ren thought to himself, Always working so hard. He has lots of endurance, however. Been doing this for a long time, have you? the echoes of Ren's eyes seemed to mournfully say it all.

Ren listened to Senpai's "first lesson" with a half-hearted expression. Does it apply to cats aswell? Ren asked himself, knowing better than to mouth off to his Senpai. Or perhaps, rather, another thought entered into Ren's mind... Would you like me to knock you out - to completely "disarm" you? ran seductively through his mind as he looked down at the sleek, magnificent boy. Such sweet, yet perverted, thoughts caused a small chill to run down Ren's back; shaking his blonde hair out in order to cover it up. The feeling was new... dangerous, but refreshing and exciting. After sleeping with so many old and wilted characters, Ren could only immagine what vibrancy and suppleness existed in those younger...

The threat came as a bit of a shock and insult to Ren, who was in realization that his Senpai, indeed, had a lot more fuel left to burn. Ren didn't enjoy the sinister tone in Senpai's voice; the kind of tone which said "Try me. I dare you." Ren could dare, it was only a manner of time before he would stand it no longer. The dominance was in his Senpai's hands, and currently being trampled upon. But teaching the younger teen a lesson was going to be tricky... It had so many ways to backfire, especially if Ren had miscalculated his Senpai's attributes. However, Ren was willing to risk it on this kid.

But Ren waited for Senpai to be finished with his claws and hisses. Tossing the beautiful picture, crumpled, onto the ground, Ren merely sighed and removed himself from the table to pick it up. Uncrumpling the paper, it was like trying to restore something that was once beautiful, but cast carelessly away - some wrinkles still remain no matter how hard you work at it. Looking at the butterfly and the tulip, Ren glanced further down to the name... Kiyoshi Nikolai. Hmm... Wonder if he did that on purpose? Taking the picture, Ren silently took it to the window and taped it up, taking his merry time. The sunlight poured through it, casting the image in a transclucent glow. Very pretty.

Now to the real piece of work...

"I don't think you could do it," Ren smirked, rolling up his sleeves elegantly before beginning to loosen his tie hypnotically, "I think... You wouldn't dare step foot in the spotlight..." Ren purred, running a hand through his hair as he walked towards his Senpai, letting a few blonde strands fall across his face, "You're strong-minded... Would you even -" Ren was almost a different person, someone carnal; he sat in the attached chair to the desk in front of Nikolai backwards, his legs spread open, and leaned forward, bracing against the back of the chair with his broad chest, "- call for help... Kiyoshi-sama," and with his blue eyes bent wholy on Nik, Ren rested his large, soft hand on top of the teen's... Not knowing what would happen next.

Ren had loads of practice play-seducing. He was merely pushing Nikolai's buttons, seeing if this kid would truly put himself in the spotlight of the entire secondary school - and even university - by dragging Ren down. If he did, then Ren had completely misread the kid and deserved to be expelled for his stupidity. However... if Nikolai relied on his own self to manuver out of this... or was completely "knocked out", as he explained to Ren, then there was something to be accomplished in privacy. Who knew what came over Ren today - such strange spontenaity only to figure out this kid!

[Kiyoshi Nikolai]

The drawing meant nothing to him, as most of his work did. He just drew because he felt like it and because it was sometimes the only way to get a ‘nightmare‘ to disappear from his mind. Oddly enough, drawing as much as he had been forced to do because of this ability; he had gotten rather good at the hobby. And although he never kept any of his work, you could find a great portion of it, a huge selection of it actually, in the confines of his sister, Aya’s, room. She adored the pictures, the scenes, the stories they told: from the good to the bad, they all delighted her and she stupidly displayed the horrid things on both walls of her room. He hated her doing this, in fact, Nik refused to step a foot inside her room because of his own images. But his sister enjoyed the few she rescued and she expressed her gratitude so well for them, that he found himself frequently handing the recent ones over to her, instead of throwing them out.
It had actually become somewhat of a habit of his now, in fact, to return home with over a dozen drawings he’d just slip under her door and walk away from, never to look upon them again. It was kind of like a farewell. He’d send them off and not look upon that particular ‘nightmare’ ever again.

This drawing hadn’t been of any ‘nightmare,’ but rather, it had come from an impulse of his. He found it odd that he’d handed the thing over to this man instead of giving it to Aya.

"I came here because I was ordered to. It's not my fault you're the only responsible child who came to class today; eh?" The words his companion had given him were slightly testy and inwardly Nik gave himself a high-five for the effort although he knew it was going to take a lot more than that to claim his overall victory. Touche. Did I touch a nerve there, girly? I guess it’ll be within my interest not to tell you that the other students should be back any minute. Makes you look incompetent about your own class moreso than being a terrible artist, really. For it shouldn’t have taken too much effort for the class to track down their thief and then report her directly to the school officials. Such nosey students seemed to have to -all- be present for such a simple thing. But it shouldn’t take long and Nikolai was sure that the situation must also be what was slowing down their teacher as well.

Nik’s very brief lesson was taken without comment although he did catch the motion of that golden hair moving from side to side. The lesson had been told to him once, his grandfather trying to urge on him the intellect that a fox had two severe weapons you could never disarm from it with just brute force: their cunning and their fangs. For even if you frightened them enough for them to lose their cool and be cornered, you still had their fangs to deal with unless you killed it swiftly. Of course, he’d used the kinder words of: ‘knocked out’ instead of ‘slay’ but the lesson was all the same.
And it was something else of himself he had given freely to this man without having to.

Smugly, he noted the first shocked and then contemplative face-changes of Sai-chan as that horrid threat had left his thin lips. He hadn’t meant it really but he would arise to the challenge if this man doubted such a thing. And it looked like he did, for the shock vanished all too quickly and he reached for the crumpled piece of sketch paper with a renewed vision that told of purpose. His sigh was more of a push of air than it had been of disappointment or exhaustion, all things he wished were being forced onto this University student, and so he immediately thought out a new tactic just in case this one were to fail.
He observed a bit tersely as the youth tried to fix the damage Nik had caused to the lovely bit of art, slowly passing over to the glass windows again and taping the feature up high in the morning glow. It cast a slight illumination, a shadow about the room in the direction parallel to that piece of artwork and the student found himself staring at this darkness before returning his eyes over to the man now speaking up to him again. He hadn’t caught the change in Sai-chan’s behavior before it was too late for him to do anything but observe.

"I don't think you could do it," he told him matter-of-factly and if Nikolai hadn’t been so drawn and frozen in place by the beautiful movement of Sai-chan, he might have instantly argued, protested even. But all he could do was stare, blink and keep his thoughts busy ridiculing his stupidity while trying desperately to not gawk at the newly exposed, slender arms of his companion‘s. He did however, manage to stutter something out at the odd movement of the man’s when he reached to loosen his tie. And he hated that the words sounded oddly panicked, child-like even.
“W-what are you doing?“ Something was just not feeling right with those moves, those almost ‘practiced,’ purposeful, habitual moves of his. There was just something else there that had Nik freaking out, frozen in slight terror and yet keeping his façade harsh with rage at the thought that this simple yet obviously-gorgeous man was scaring him.

"I think... You wouldn't dare step foot in the spotlight..." He wanted so desperately to argue, to use his usual ‘Try me’ sarcasm to give him an out in this situation and what he was feeling, yet he could only sit there stupidly, frozen as the man came prowling all the more closer to his person. And prowling did seem to soot the motion he was using, what with that irresistible voice of his purring, seducing him into a false sense of security he was definitely not buying. "You're strong-minded... Would you even -" Having forced his eyes on him following his threat now seemed like a really, really bad idea. For he couldn’t look away at the curtain of golden strands that obscured a bit of that handsome face, he couldn‘t stop the man from getting alarmingly closer to him as he seated himself in the chair of the desk in front of him, with his body still facing Nik. He equally couldn’t close his eyes like he wished to, so he didn’t have to watch the man utter those last words left unspoken, words that would have to pass through those supple, rosy lips of his. "- call for help... Kiyoshi-sama.”

K’so, was the only word that echoed through his mind as he noted the first changes his body began exhibiting: his eyes starting to glow with the subtle hint of that red tinge and the usual burning ache that filled through the orbs behind those slim glasses, something that only occurred during deep shows of emotion or when his powers were being used for far too long. It was one demonic trait he wished he could burry and one that he usually had in check actually, for the obvious reasons of not showing emotion.
For not showing the shock, the embarrassment, and the utter thrill that passed through the gates that had become his eyes at the mention of his own name being spoken so passively, so heavenly. And yet, as that hidden, very innocent yet suggestive motion, landed a bigger palm atop the one he had resting on the desk -the eyes ran cold and immediately ceased glowing.

He sat back in his desk, taking that hand with him, absentmindedly cradling the thing as he threw up the defensive shield of his coy, calmness, of his mask. Kiyoshi Nikolai withdrew, hiding himself from this man as he stared passively up into the eyes of Sai-chan and no longer did he see them as beautiful. He had crossed the line. He’d touched him. No one did that. Not his family, not his friends, not his mother and even not his sister. No one.
“Leave.” It wasn’t at all a request as had none of his other words been. And yet it wasn’t spoken angrily either but sadly devoid of any emotion save for the factualness of an order. Nik had no qualms with forcing the man out either, yet he didn’t even seem to sound in the least bit contemplative of this man not heeding his words anymore.

The man had done something he probably didn’t even realize was a big ‘no-no’ for him and it wasn’t likely he’d earn the respect of seeing the actual Nikolai back unless he somehow performed a miracle and saved this situation through apology, soothing words, or whatever.

[Saito Ren]

Hypnotic, furtive azul eyes worked hard at Nikolai's, reaching out, bearing down into his own cool, grave-stone gray ones. Like ocean against land, crashing together, but wearing the wall away little by little, taking the microscopic sedimentary pieces down to the depths to flow soundlessly beneath the surface of the water. Beneath the surface there was peace. A deafening quiet. Ren's oceanic soul was vast, tempestuous, but dark and lonesome on the bottom. Always looking for things to fill the void, but some things couldn't take the pressure that deep. Most enjoyed where the light touched, the pretty part. Anything lower was blindingly dark. It was this gaze that drew the line in Ren's seduction.

Ren was quite glad that Nikolai was being slightly more vulnerable, and he meant "slightly", by sitting so still... In fear? It was difficult to tell, but Nick sensed it. And luckily, Ren had been correct so far. He wouldn't call for help if faced with something bigger. Mostly likely, Nikolai would probably kill himself before being made the object of gossip and rumor at this school. Ren knew to stop it, to quit right now and just let things lie, but something mystical compelled him to lean forward... Attracted to those cool lips... But something stopped him from getting too close... A brightness, almost like a flame simmered faintly behind Nikolai's eyes, hot and crimson. Ren allowed his hand to float onto the other's and it all vanished in a second.

What was that? A demonic power? Most people were demons these days, but somehow Saito could never really get used to the idea. Perhaps it was because he was so seemingly normal; his powers able to become totally muted out. He'd been practicing since middle school, when they first began to display themselves. First the ears, nose, and eyes, causing him headaches and nasea at every turn. A concrete coffin for a bed on the bad nights. Then the taste and touch came... More intriguing than troublesome. New, molecularly closer experiences abounded. He was like a curious dog. Mid-way through high school he got a grasp on them, but keeping a low frequency was difficult for long periods of time... Thus, the glasses. And of course now, ghosts. Good lord.

Ren wondered what in the world Nik's power could be. And it would explain alot, to be sure, about his personality. Some people viewed their powers as blessings, while other chose them as a curse. Ren was mildly neutral about that argument. Perhaps if he didn't think about it, he wouldn't have to answer it. Unfortunately, the more Ren tried to be "normal" the more his "abnormality" bounced back. Perhaps that was it with Nikolai. Powers were a great burden to bear, no doubt, especially at such a young and fragile age.

For a moment, despite the coldness resuming in his eyes, Ren thought that Nikolai would do something different with the way he was taking Ren's hand... So soft and white... like alabaster... But then Nikolai returned to normal in the blink of an eye, and Ren was left to support his own hand, which felt like dead weight at the end of his limp wrist. Ren looked up at Nikolai's eyes again only to find that they were closed and locked up like a bank vault. One could even faintly hear the sound of the heavy door closing with a final, definitive thud. Ren sat back, shedding his seduction like a flower dropping petals in the wind.

"I can't," Ren replied weakly, almost like the whisper of someone's last, dying breath. Sadness washed over him like a dark cloud outside which darkened the room and the picture on the window. Ren sat still a moment longer, looking to Nikolai wistfully before the sliding door was thrown open and Akiyama-sensei ran in rudely, obvious frazzled and red in the face from screaming. Some impertenant students filed in disorderly. The professor looked at the scene quizically, and opened his mouth to say something before Ren hushed him with a single finger, getting up from the chair as if nothing had taken place.

"I was explaining to Kiyoshi-san about focal points," Ren explained didactically, looking over his shoulder furtively to Nik's direction, "The area in a work which the eye is most compellingly drawn; isn't that right, Kiyoshi-san?" Ren asked Nikolai ironical. The focal point. Was it Nikolai's looks, or the complexity of the inner workings? Doubtless Ren would leave this classroom changed for the rest of his life, whether it be for better... or worse. Obsession was a secretive, poisonous thing.

[Kiyoshi Nikolai]

He’d touched him.

He’d really touched him. And with his filthy hands, no less. When it had certainly been obvious throughout their whole conversation that not only did the student not care for his presence, but he’d gotten obsessively nervous anytime the man had gotten close.
What could have gone across that man’s mind to have done such a thing/

Nikolai couldn’t remember within the past year when was the last time he’d ever been touched. Of course there were always those bumps and shoves from fellow classmates as you made your way to and from classes. And while he hated those types of physical touching too, those were things he had no control over. But really, his most severe hatred was saved for touches of flesh against flesh.
Touches his little sister had long since given up on, even handshakes were forbidden from him to her now.

And well, if he had to venture a guess at the last time that had happened to him, then it’d have been after his abduction, when he’d first gotten home. He was fairly certain he’d collapsed once getting through his mother’s doorway and he didn’t remember all of what had been said or done at the time. He’d just recalled a relief, the relief of his mother’s frantic words, of his sister’s light footsteps marching to him, of his dog’s wet pants against his dirtied cheek. He’d felt an overwhelming calm at being home, of being safe, of being free. But he recalled the touching, he always did. He recalled the pain and he recalled his irrational outbursts to be left alone, that he was fine and he was safe and he just wanted to rest. He’d remembered his mother whispering to Aya that Nik must get treatment right away, that something was really wrong and the injuries he had sustained were no where near healed. And damn it if they weren’t ignoring his words altogether!
But at the thought of unfamiliar hands touching him, of so many people looking upon him, of the impersonal way they’d undress him and force their methods upon his body, the drugs he’d no doubt be put under -how dizzy and helpless he’d feel.
He’d instantly burst into tears, broken down even, began utterly screaming, begging them not to take him to the hospital. Yo-yo had started barking, his mother’s tiny hand had gone to her mouth, shocked and little Aya had cried with him and still hadn’t removed her hands from his broken body.

Nikolsi hadn’t been touched since then. Many had tried, but all had given up. They always did give up on him. If not by themselves than Nik would force them to as he‘d do now.

He never wanted to feel another person’s touch again.

"I can't," the assistant teacher had uttered completely miserable, close to the point where everyone got with him as he answered the non-question order of his to leave. Close to losing hope, to giving up. The student would have laughed if it would not have broken his calm façade, the one that hid everything, the one he showed to the world so as to keep his emotions tightly locked within himself, selfishly only sharing them with himself. However, there was no time in which they were given to continue spouting back and forth at each other for the sliding door to the room suddenly flung open and wouldn’t you know it? His art teacher, Akiyama-sensei came pouring into the room a foreboding aura surrounding him and the very down students that trailed inside behind them.
The teacher gave them a sharp look, a question forming on his tongue that Nik knew he must immediately deny. However, the assistant teacher didn’t let this happen, speaking up immediately after a rather quick motion of moving one of those long fingers up to his slim lips and in turn halting the other man’s words.

"I was explaining to Kiyoshi-san about focal points," he commented very professionally in a way the student hadn’t seen out of him yet since that first introduction. "The area in a work which the eye is most compellingly drawn; isn't that right, Kiyoshi-san?" he was asked, the man looking at him over his shoulder in a way that spoke of openly studying. Ah, the first question he’d asked this man was finally brought back into their conversation. It was kind of anticlimactic for the answer to be given to him so impersonally and as he eyed the other students taking their seats, he took a last glance at his crumpled artwork that had been taped up to the window. He’d be forced to act his unruly, stoic, polite, and bluntly honest self now in their presence.
“Correct, Saito-sensi. Although your own focal point would have to be that wildly, girly hair of yours. You’d agree that it is rather inappropriate for a teacher.” he replied, trying to sound amused when he wasn’t, allowing the classroom’s laughter to overflow and force the emotion on him. So much so that he managed a weak, fake smile to his art teacher’s laughter and agreement.

The rest of the day passed in a relative ease. He paid close attention to the blond that remained in his classroom and yet he stayed far off in his wondering thoughts. The rest of his drawings for that day either turned in or thrown out afterward.

He utterly forgot about the crumpled butterflies that remained taped to the window and the piece of artwork wasn’t there when he returned the next day for class.

| Closed. |