A/N: I'm really sorry about the wait!! Ran's a horrible author!! ;O;!!! I'll try to bring next chapter by next week tops so, please don't hate me!! This chapter is dedicated to Dolphin Successor for her encouraging review. You rock dear!
Hope you enjoy the chapter.
Prodigy.
By Ran
Mouri.
Chapter 05.
After some hours of quiet contemplation, Ayame decided it was better just to shower and go to bed. He really didn't want to think about Andou Morikawa and his strange behaviour, much less the way his calloused fingers felt so warm against his skin. Slowly he took off his clothes and let the warming water wash away his sweat. His limbs ached and he knew his face would be swollen by the time he reached his bedroom.
The redhead sighed.
Things were suddenly taking a turn for the worst. The small social group he had managed to form had abandoned him and this, the information he had been gathering so far was useless. Also, there were teachers and students alike that seemed hell-bent into making sure he staid as far away as possible from either Takumi-senpai and that bastard Morikawa.
"As if I wanted that psycho stalking me," he huffed, grabbing his apple-scented shampoo. "He just randomly decided it was so much fun making my life a living hell!" Taking a huge blob of the product, more than he would usually take, he attacked his head in furious, energetic strokes, not a single strand of hair was spared the abuse.
Then, his hands stilled…
And now he wasn't so sure he understood the Student Council's president's motivations. He knew for a fact he annoyed him at first, maybe even made grew to hate him. But…
The boy blushed.
… but his hands had been less than hateful. The way those oddly coloured eyes seemed to plead for some of his attention was unnerving.
"Maybe that's another mind game of his?" he mussed out loud as he rinsed his hair and looked around for his caramel conditioner, a little habit he had gained while living around with his agent parents. If he wanted to get information more efficiently, he had to be welcomed into his target's social circle; therefore, his personal appearance had to remain flawless. Some of his classmates had frowned at him the first time they'd seen him with a towel around his head as he waited for his conditioner to work its magic, but as soon as he had gotten Hiroyuki-senpai's attention, his toiletries had been copied around campus.
It made him smile.
Ayame wrapped his green and yellow towel around his head and got out of the shower to dry and check the damage on his face. His violet eyes met his twin on the mirror.
Yup, there was a black stain clearly growing on his skin.
With a resigned sigh he took out his toothbrush and proceeded to wash his teeth for the night. His eyes never straying from his swollen eye.
That is, until he noticed something… definitely odd.
Creepy, actually.
One of his eyebrows, the one that wasn't covered by his towel, was no longer red… it was..
… orange.
And a strange neon pink goo was dripping towards it from… his hair.
"WHAT?!?!" he cried, spitting out his toothbrush and ripping the towel from his head. "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!?" he wailed, staring at the mess.
His once burgundy coloured hair was pink…
…flashing, blinding, neon pink. Ayame felt like fainting.
How on earth had that happened? He dashed for the shower, snatching his shampoo and conditioner to stare dumbly at their content. His apple shampoo smelt like something nasty, chemicals and soap. His conditioner, which was supposed to be beige was now pink and it had the same alcohol infested smell.
His face paled.
Hair dye??
He had washed his hair with dye…
PINK DYE!?
This had to be a joke, someone was playing with him.
Someone cruel, someone who held ill intentions towards him…
…A bastard.
His eyes narrowed.
"DAMN YOU, MORIKAWA ANDOU! YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!!"
-------
Hiroyuki looked up from the book he was reading as a pitiful wail pierced the night.
"Oh," he sighed. "Someone must be torturing stray cats again. Hm, stupid emo kids." Without another word he resumed his reading. He had a Math's test in a few weeks and needed the perfect score to even out his poor grades in arts. After all, he was the model student, the one who had made it into the school at the age of fourteen. Aced both, first and second year and was most likely to succeed in the near future.
Everything he did had to be perfect.
Everything he tried, he perfected anyway.
All his life was ordered, groomed and calculated for success.
Then…
What was he doing with Akimachi?
He wished he knew…
The boy was everything he had tried to avoid all these years and yet, he couldn't seem to part from him. He was always watching out for him, searching him out when he entered a room, reaching for his company, even to the point of skipping track practices just to chat or even enjoy a home-made lunch under the shade of a tree.
He had never guessed someone could prepare lunch with just rice, eggs and sugar. And yet, the experience had been delicious.
Of course in Hiroyuki's world, everyone was… rich. Kids left menial tasks for the servants and concentrated on studying finances and making relations with other kids their age that might benefit them in the future. All was appearances for Rozenkreuz kids.
So it was no surprise for them why Akimachi stood out like a sore thumb.
Ayame was loud, boisterous, outspoken and whinny. His grades left much to be desired and he often skipped class to wander around campus, lost in thought. He was everything boys in Rozenkreuz considered wrong.
Blue eyes blinked.
"If he's so different, how come he managed to enrol in the Academy?" he asked himself. It was illogical that Murakami-sensei would allow such an anomaly to mingle with his perfect students.
There had to be something else.
Hiro realized his book no longer interested him.
His whole mind was focussed around the mystery that was the red haired boy. Was he a spy for another institution? Maybe he was the bastard child of an important CEO and therefore, had never received the proper instruction until now…
He could even be an alien from outer space plotting to drain the brains of the best students in Japan and, thus, destroy the country's economical future!
Slowly, the young man shook his head.
That one was impossible.
Aliens were supposed to be disgusting, slimy creatures with big heads and antisocial tendencies. If so, then Morikawa was better fitted to be the alien, not someone as cute and charming and sweet as Akimachi, with those wide violet eyes so full of happiness and his cheerful smile…
'ARGH! STOP THIS, TAKUMI HIROYUKI!' he berated himself. He's never felt attracted to another human being like this before and was not about to start now, specially over someone so potentially dangerous as Akimachi Ayame! Not matter how pretty he looked when he laughed or the way his waist was small enough to fit perfectly in his arms and…
He took a deep breath.
"I'll better just go to bed…" he sighed.
-----
The following morning greeted Rozenkreuz with gossips and whispered conversations on every hallway. Students cluttered around the windows to stare, giggle and sometimes even mock their new celebrity.
Morikawa Andou raised an eyebrow as a pink bush parted the crowd that usually surrounded him and a small hand slapped his face.
"You think this is funny, huh?" The bush growled with that same whinny nasal voice Andou had learnt to dread.
"…Akimachi?" he asked in surprise as the bush parted to reveal enraged violet eyes.
The older man blinked.
"What the hell happened to your head?"
"Don't act like you don't know, you bastard! You were the only one with me last night, only you had the time to put hair dye in my shampoo…" he paused. "PINK hair dye!!!" he accused loudly. "I thought you at least had the piece of mind to play fair! But if this is the kind of war you want, it's the war you'll get!"
Shocked silence met his silence.
Someone had dyed Akimachi's hair pink. Someone had dared to reduce the similitude the brat had with his little brother to the point of dyeing his hair pink. Someone was going to pay dearly for this offence.
"I would not do that," he snapped finally, noticing how the boy's new hair colour made the black eye stand out more. Andou winced internally. "Mind games are not my style. Maybe Takumi's fan club is at fault? It's a well know fact around school how he loathes that colour. So..."
Ayame's eyes widened.
It did made sense.
Which was embarrassing.
He frowned slowly and looked away from Morikawa, much to the older man's annoyance.
Suddenly the crowd parted once more and a blond boy with wide green eyes and cute dimpled cheeks approached Ayame, fury marring his angelic beauty.
"AKIMACHI! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!" he shrieked as he saw the hand print on Andou's cheek. Ayame realized he had yet to apologize for that.
"Minoru-kun…" It was no secret that Akisuki Minoru, the school's new baby doll and current love idol, was a proud member of Morikawa Andou's Love Fan Club. Which meant that Ayame, as the newest enemy of his model's beloved… was in deep shit.
"Minoru-kun! It's not ah… not what it looks like!" Ayame tried to defend himself. "Morikawa-senpai and I were… we just were…"
"Akimachi, don't lie to me! Now, explain!! How could you slap Morikawa-sama's handsome face like that!!" Slow understanding was etching on Andou's face as a cruel smirk stretched his lips.
"Yes, Ayame-kun, please explain?" he chuckled. "After last night one would think we were on better terms, hmm?" Horror filled Ayame's eyes at the same time as fury coloured the blonde's cheeks, Andou felt elated by the way he was twisting the situation. Either he broke the boy completely and forced him out of school and out of his life, or he would isolate him so completely that even his sour disposition would be welcomed company, until he consumed him wholly.
"Minoru-kun!" Akimachi tried for the last time, but to no avail. Minoru raised a fist and struck him across his injured eye. Andou's amusement died right then and there.
"Don't you Minoru-kun me, you bastard! Don't get near me again!! See if someone DARES to model for you!" That one last huff he left, storming between the laughing students who muttered among themselves and pointed at the now pink haired boy.
Ayame turned to Morikawa, eyes flashing.
"That's IT! This is all your fault! You… you… YOU HORRIBLE BASTARD! If I fail my art project you are going to PAY!" he really wanted to kick that face, his stamp was already fading from view and he felt she should really leave a more permanent mark on that arrogant face, but his eye was aching and his pride would not let him flinch. So he just growled low on his throat and walked away, his head held high and a frown that was certainly painful on his face.
He would have to speak with Ogawa-sensei and see if he could salvage his grade at least.
Andou frowned.
Sooner or later he was going to do something about that brat.
-----
"So, your model got mad and walked out on you, huh?" Ogawa-sensei said slowly, blinking his clear green eyes in confusion. Akimachi had slowly, but surely, risen as one of his most capable students. Not because his subject was easy, god forbid, but because all his projects were laden with deeper feelings than most of what he had seen before. He liked their nostalgia, the way every piece had a cheerful, yet melancholic double meaning.
The boy was hiding something…
… something sad, horrible even.
And he wished he knew it was.
"Yes," sighed the boy. "I guess getting into a fight with Morikawa-senpai wasn't such a good idea after all." Ogawa-sensei gasped a little, but Ayame was too deep in thought to notice. It wasn't that he didn't like his art teacher, on the contrary, he was happy around the gentle man. Strangely enough, he seemed to radiate this soothing calmness that put everyone around him at ease.
A thin hand was gently placed on his shoulder.
"Akimachi-kun, I know you have a good project. If your model ran away from you, then you use your own creativity and make it work anyway, I know you can do it." He whispered gently, as if his words held a macabre secret not fit for human ears. "Sometimes things start to get so very wrong before they may improve, and even though you must feel like God forgot about you, maybe it's a good thing these things happened all at once."
Ayame stared at him, not able to make head or tails out of that strange speech. His teacher just smiled tenderly and took his still bandaged hand.
"For example," Ogawa-sensei said. "Your hand seems to be healing, but your fingers are still very sore, against the nurse's orders you have been using them, huh?" the man didn't even wait for his response. "You created a concept for this project, which already secured half of your final grade. Your hand won't let you shoot your camera properly and now you don't have a model who happens to be just two inches taller than you."
Finally able to catch on, Ayame's eyes widened and a deep blush covered his face.
"Me? Model with Takumi-senpai?" he asked, shocked. "No way! He's so handsome! I would just ruin the picture!!" The teacher's kind smile seemed to fade a little.
"Akimachi-kun, you are very pretty, you just don't realize it yet, and it's normal at your age. Don't worry about anything, I know you'll do great. As for Hiro-kun, I'll talk to him and explain what happen, he won't mind, I assure you. Ok?"
A shy nod answered him.
"Now, you'll need someone to work with the camera, and I think I might have just the person for you, maybe your story will be able to spark some interest into that troublesome child." With quick hands, Ogawa-sensei wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to the boy. "Here you go," he said happily. "Give this to Yamada Tarou-kun, second year, class four. Just ask around for him, he's a little bit hard to miss." Ayame nodded again, maybe a little overwhelmed by his teacher's disposition.
"Thank you, Ogawa-sensei, I don't know what to say." The older man just shook his head.
"Just dazzle me with your art, Akimachi-kun." Ayame nodded and with a bright smile, he left the classroom. He had much to plan and his heart was pounding in his chest.
Hopefully his investigation wasn't ruined yet.
To be Continued.