Miyako's mother had offered her a ride, but after she finished her egg cake Miyako decided against it. It was better to go it alone for a high school junior on her first day in a new place. Boarding the train, there were a few other students among the usual passengers on their way to work, shopping, daily errands and such. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or panic-stricken at the moment. She's not the first transfer student to have cold feet attending a new school, and she wouldn't be the last so Miyako silently bullied herself to relax. The morning was suprisingly crystal clear and sunlight flooded the traincar. Miyako turned to face her standing reflection in the door window. She sighed contentedly at the fact that she no longer had to suffer the humiliation of her old school's tradition of the girls' sailor-style uniform. No insanely wide collar to be starched on a daily basis. The overly feminine blouse with puffed sleeves restricted circulation on her upper arms, the bright red sash meticulously tied in the regulation square knot- both now long forgotten. The Odaiba Gakuen uniform was a welcome modern change. Forest green blazer, pleated gray mini-skirt, and white blouse. Miyako opted to do away with her childish white knee-socks and brown oxfords in exchange for silk pantyhose and a pair of heeled Mary Janes.

The traincar jostled uncomfortably, getting Miyako frustrated each time she went to adjust her brand new matching headwrap. Perfect wasn't perfect enough, but who was she trying to impress? She disembarked as a load of people hurried to exit Ariake Station and Miyako climbed the stairwell to see the front gates of Odaiba Gakuen across the highway. A sea of green and gray made its way onto the large campus and Miyako glanced at her watch in order to decide to dawdle or pick up her current pace. 7:50 A.M. Roughly 30-odd minutes before orientation so she decided to make haste to get a feel for the campus grounds. Students of every level grazed the grounds seated on the grass, chattering on the benches, getting a quick game of basketball, leaning against the wrought iron fences or trees reveling in their last few moments of freedom. Few picked their heads up to acknowlegde the bespectacled lavender-haired transferee, most went on about their business after getting a quick look. Miyako walked the full perimeter of the soccer field when she spied a curious brick wall behind the bleachers. It was coated in ivy and she jogged along it when she came up on another set small iron gates.

"Odaiba University."

The iron bars were fashioned to form the words in English arched across both gates, she tentatively opened one of them and emerging from a couple of weeping willow trees she was on yet another campus. This one much larger! The university buildings themselves seemingly were built in the Old English style trying to replicate a sort of a Japanese blue-collar worker's Eton. The atmosphere itself exuded maturity and less regimentation. That particular entranced face the outdoor cafeteria on a loggia- an annexation of the Southeast Wing. Classes did not cease during the summer vacation and most students were still pre-occupied with their studies, others were relaxing before their mid-morning classes. The ages of the students were from late teens to mid-twenties, although they looked all alike wearing the manditory university uniform of dark crimson blazers, white dress shirts and depending on gender a pair of pleated black slacks or wrap around black skirt.

"Excuse me!" Chirped a voice. Miyako was still marveling at the seemingly adult atmosphere to take notice of anyone's voice. "Excuse me!" The cry jerked Miyako out of her fantasies of state-of-the-art computer labs and college guys.

"Huh?" She whipped her lavender head around to see a tall feminine figure standing behind a chain link silver fence that looked as if it were reaching the clouds. "Me?" Miyako pointed to herself.

Calm laughter. "Yes you." The young woman waved her over. The sharp *KPOK* of a tennis ball glancng off the rubber-laden asphalt and several young women dressed in identical tiny-skirted white tennis outfits leapt across the courts warring with eachother for a dozen or so balls going to and fro over an aging net. Miyako was met by a tall girl with motherly dark eyes, shoulder-length red hair also dressed in a tennis outfit holding a freshly rewired racquet.

"Um... hi!" 'O.K. She's still smiling at me. What next?'

"Hi. You know you're not allowed to be here." Miyako blinked twice.

"I'm not?" The older girl giggled.

"You must be new at the high school." That was a given. Miyako shrugged defeatedly and watched as the girl walked a few paces down from them and unlatched the gate. "Look, I'll cut you some slack this time because you're a transferee, but you can't come here ever again. I could get 5 demerits from my coach if she catches us." Miyako nodded and they walked back to the brick wall. Sensing her discomfort, the older girl held out her hand. "Incidentally I'm Takenouchi Sora, university sophomore." Miyako shook her hand in earnest.

"Inoue Miyako. High school junior." Miyako stepped through the iron gate, crossing back into her world.

"Maybe we'll see eachother around." Sora said. She scanned the somewhat tall grass and discovered the lock half buried in grass blades and foliage. Sora secured the lock back through the latch and went to return to her game.

"See ya!"

Sora waved. "Have a nice first day!" And the graceful copper bird flew back to her gleaming cage. Miyako raced back to the high school campus and was just in time to see the secondary school student body entering the building. The morning in itself was uneventful. Orientation for freshmen and transferees lasted a mind-numbing 45 minutes, but to their fortune that was to be first period class and were spared any actual learning. Second and third went well, after the formalities of introduction of the new students and Miyako was fairly certain that her classmates thought well of her, as she was kindly shown to her desk by a peppermint blue-haired girl by the name of Saki, who sat the desk beside her. It was now her lunch period and that was proving to be a harrowing experience considering she couldn't find the cafeteria. Wandering the halls aimlessly, she considered asking a student she saw lingering here and there but decided against it because she felt stupid. Rounding a corner, Miyako spotted large green steel double doors with narrow, lengthy windows.

'So that's where it is!' Mentally slapping her forehead she pushed open one of the doors and walked into a dimly lit hall. Instead of the usual deafening clamour of a school cafeteria there was an eerie silence, and she didn't see any lunch tables or the buffet line but sunlight glaring off a waxed hardwood floor and collapsed wooden bleachers lined the walls. Baka. The gymnasium. Miyako groaned and hung her head. She was about to leave when she heard voices coming from outside. An explosion of raucous laughter- masculine laughter. Panicking, Miayko looked this way and that desperate to find another exit, but the set of doors that were at the opposite end of the gymnasium were blocked off by huge black cases stacked one on top of the other. At the last minute she darted beneath some bleachers that were unfolded and retreated into the darkness as she saw a group of four young men stride in. But recognising the colours they wore, they were NOT from the high school.

One such young man with dark brown hair spiked in every direction began to take apart the blockade from the exit, another with auburn coloured hair in a style similar to the famed American Mullet knelt down to tend to several of the black cases. The resonant sound of snapping metal and the Mullet-teen produced a pair of steel tripods and lay dull brass cymbals atop them. A pair of snare drums, a large bass drum, and a couple of more cymbals and a professional drum set was assembled. An electronic melodius trilling filled the air and a tall young man with a pair of wire frames and short tousled midnight blue hair tuned a synthesiser. Rolling out a pair of amplifiers was the sipikey brunette and another man with flaxen hair falling just below his chin cut in a rougish style falling over one eye. The amps were aligned several feet away from the drumset on either side and the blonde and brunette unzipped oddly-shaped canvas bags to reveal two guitars- a red and white 62 RI Jazz Bass* and a royal blue and black Les Paul with a glitter finish. The blonde strapped on the bass guitar and his bandmate was already strumming his Les Paul. They immediately began warming up, various melodies and rythms battled eachother before the blonde strutted up behind one of the microphones and Miyako strained to hear their unintelligible conversation but it was abruptly cut off by a fast-paced strumming of the bass chords and was joined by the harmonius sounds of the lead guitarist, drummer, and synth player. The blonde took his position behind the mic and his strong, somewhat baritone voice streamed the gymnasium.

You got a girl

You got a boy

Sittin' underneath a tree

They sit there everyday

And even though you may think

This is the way things should be

Much to Miyako's suprise he spoke near perfect English,and the song itself had a catchy and upbeat tune.

It may not always be that way

You can't take nothin' for granted

You gotta live life today

I turn around

I can see what's behind me

I turn back around

I can see what's ahead

His entire demeanour suggested ambition. Slight arrogance was also evident. The way he swayed while singing however, was getting her distracted from the song and for a moment she envisioned herself with this college guy. Doubtful, Miyako frowned inwardly at how he- or any college guy- would want to associate themselves with a giddy high school girl. Not that Miyako considered herself apart of the rest of the herd, but she had gone through the frivolous phase and found out the hard way even though still very young being boy-crazy and driven completely by emotion was no way to live. Independence was her new motto, and there was a time and place to have fun and get silly with her friends. As for anyone else, she didn't want to go through yet another heartbreak.

And if you don't believe

That I've been here all along

Just turn around

Just turn around

A wild guitar riff followed and instrumentals continued, so caught up with the band rehearsal Miyako failed to notice something slither seemingly across the air behind her. It did not like this new being invading its space. It might attack its nest tucked in a nook in the wall, and steal the eggsac. Its proboscis snapped furiously and took a reasonable course of action. Dropping a silver dragline it lowered itself in a guerilla fashion and stealthily made its way to the intruder. A rush of sensation, Miyako felt goosebumbs along her leg and attributed it to the draft coming from the open windows. The band's song was coming to its crescendo as the blonde bassist belted out the chorus. Something prompted Miyako to look down as the crawling sensations didn't stop. "What the hell...?" Lifting the hem of her accordion skirt she saw something move across her thigh. Surely a trick of the shadow, but Miyako stepped further into a slit of light to be totally sure....

"KIIIYYYYAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!"

The band stopped its playing when they heard a muffled shriek coming under the bleachers and wild thrashing. Miyako fell out from her hiding place wildly shaking her skirt out and crawled away from her hiding place and saw a Black Widow spider fall from her uniform and skitter across the floor....

....until a Timberland boot prevented its escape. On her knees Miyako saw three other pairs of feet approach and she felt an ice blue glare on her huddled form. Daring herself to look up, the blonde had his hands jammed into his pockets beneath his crimson university blazer. "Now with that situation over with, who the hell are you?" Miyako reluctantly got to her feet and backed into the wall.

"N- n- n- nobody." A collective snicker from the musicians. "Just another transferee, heh heh...." Vainly she tried to liven the mood. The blonde grinned tightly and leaned into her, enmeshing Miyako into the wall.

"Then why don't you transfer yourself outta here?" Normally she would have been so incensed that she would have lashed out. But taking into consideration that he towered about 6'2" and his three companions about the same height and all were presumably athletic with slight builds to them, all Miyako could do was slide down the wall to collect her shoulder bag which proved difficult because the whole time she had locked eyes with the blonde and basically had to feel around for it. She almost fell over but managed just to stumble as she swept up her belongings. The group parted the way for her and Miyako was now averting their scrutinizing stares walking backwards to the exit. In an effort to gather herself, Miyako pulled the black headwrap from her hair and began to comb out her mauve tresses with her fingers. Lifting her eyes once more, the blonde's eyes were now slitted, enraged perhaps, and continued to shoot daggers at her. Miyako took notice at how he ground his left boot further into the slimy, oozing remains of the spider. Maybe that's how he envisioned her- an insect, a pest. Unwelcome. Unwanted. You invade my space, and there will be hell to pay.

*CRUSH!* Gripping at her throat, Miyako turned and broke into run throwing open the doors and flounced down the hallway. Tears blinded her and she didn't know how far she'd run, only that if she didn't stop her heart would explode and she collapsed against a pillar clutching her chest gasping for air. Letting herself drop to the floor, Miyako willed herself somehow to relax and when her heartbeat deccelerated she decided to forget about it because if she dwelled upon it she'd never make it to the end of the first semester with her sanity intact.

Resolving that she wouldn't find the cafeteria today she pulled out her bento box from her bag and unwrapped it in her lap. Save for the occasional chirping of birds from outside, the hallway she was in was devoid of life and she took in the sun streaming in. Miyako was just about to sample her mother's natto when peals of laughter made her drop her chopsticks. Getting up from her spot on the floor she looked out one of the windows and saw *them* crossing the courtyard. A breeze blew the coattails of their blazers and mussed their hair. The blonde and the brunette had their guitars packed in their cases and strapped to their backs, as they continued to howl with laughter and throw comments back and forth. Miyako didn't have to strain to hear this conversation but managed to keep herself from being noticed, despite the fact she was on the 4th floor.

"Sou deshhou! Sou deshhou!" The bespectacled one danced about to stand in front of his friends. "I wish I had a camera for that," he immediately struck a familiar pose mockingly combing his fingers through invisible long hair. "'Iie da! The big man's gonna hurt me! Ohmigod! Omigod! OOOH!!'" Then he scampered a few feet away before sprawling across the grass in hysterics. The blonde whistled and appaluded, then stuck a cigarette between his peachy lips. He searched his pockets for matches but came up empty.

"Oy, oy! Anybody gotta light?" The brunette tapped his arm and handed him a silver-plated Zippo.

"Masaka," the brunette started, "I can't get enough of the newbies. They fall for this shit every time!" He too lit a cigarette.

It was a joke? They were playing with her? Miyako saw Mullet clasp his hands to his cheek, tilt his head and make some other rude comment causing another fit of laughter. Miyako's blood boiled! Here she was cowering in fear for her life, humiliated by four collge jocks all for their little fun and games with the new kids! Injustice. Urursenai! URUSENAI! Clenching a fist before her face tremours of fury wracked her body."Omae ni... omae ni...." It was merely above a whisper. "OMAE NI NANI KA WARUI?!!!!" A dozen sparrows fled from the trees as the reverberation of her shout echoed throughout the courtyard and all life stopped. Miyako now thrust the upper-half of her body out the window and faced her harassers. A gust of wind made her hair billow like a flag, signalling everyone. Not only was the band on the courtyard but other high school students, as well as a few teachers, students walking along the loggias and hallways adjacent from her. Classes that were in session stopped as students crowded the windows and all attention was on her. Face flushed, eyes blazing, and chest heaving Miyako continued her tirade. "Who the hell do you think you are?!" The foursome were now glowering at the screaming schoolgirl. "You think you're SOOOOO COOL, making life hell for everybody else just to prove who's the BIG MAN on campus!" She emphasized 'big man' by arching her arms akimbo and swaying her hips in an exaggerated manner. Not waiting for a response from them and obviously not going to get one, Miyako thrust a quivering finger in their direction wishing it was in the blonde's face. "Well, NEWSFLASH GENTLEMEN: I don't take shit from anyone! BAKAYAROU!!!"

Gasps and hushed chattering arose from the crowds. Was she insane? Did she know who she was shouting at? If she was new, they just pitied her more. The blonde took one more lungful of his cigarette before crushing it out on the treads of his boot heel, and turned to his comrades. "So, who's hungry?" Miyako blanched. He brushed her off! Frustratedly she slammed her hands on the windowsill as the group began to argue about whether they were going to Taco Bell or get Chinese take-away as they walked off. All focus was still on Miyako and all of students looked panicky and she picked up her things and ran down the hall as the fourth period bell rang.

The remainder of the day sped by with Miyako's classmates averting their gazes or walking in another direction if they saw her pass down the corridor. Girls flattened themselves up against the walls and guys spluttered something and ran away. As soon as Miyako changed back into her Mary Janes, she thought it best just to get to the subway as fast as she could and even as she boarded the train thhe oddest sensation of fear fear spread through her. Why was everthing suddenly thrown into an uproar? Maybe no one wanted to associate themselves with a girl who could spew such crazy outbursts to her upperclassmen. What did they know? They didn't know the situation at hand, and she was almost positive that tomorrow it would be forgotten. Walking through the door Miyako was not suprised that neither of her parents were home yet. 'Least they're not doing inventory.' Grabbing a can of juice from the refridgerator Miyako made her way to her room and slipped off her blazer. Her room was restored and the only things left to do was put the bedsheets on, piece together her computer, and put her CD collection in their appropriate racks. She had just begun to unbutton her blouse when the kitchen phone rang. "Shimatta!" Miyako growled. "S'prolly Auntie Reika ready to start bitching at Mama again!" Trudging back downstairs in her camisole and uniform skirt she picked up the reciever after its ninth ring. "Moshi moshi?"

"....."

She knit her brows together. "Moshi moshi?" A low, overconfident scoff came from the other end.

"Just wanted to make sure you got home safely." The familiar male voice made her blood run cold. Miyako stammered and slammed down the phone. Edging away from it icy fingers of fear clutched her heart and when it rung again she fell to the floor.

"IIE! IIE DA!" Making a mad dash for the door she locked it and the windows. Letting the phone to continue its ringing until the answering machine picked it up.

"BINGO! We're not home right now," came Miyako's cheerful message, "but if you leave your name and number after the beep we'll get back to you! Ja ^_~!"

*BEEP*

'A- anou sa,' came Hida Iori's little uncertain tone. 'I figured you wouldn't be home yet Miya-chan. But I hope you didn't forget about coming over later on. You can come over in about an hour my Mom'll be home around that time. Atou de ne!'

*BEEP*

Putting her hands on the sides of her head she she screamed. "Masaka! Iori-kun...!" Tossing off her uniform she quickly changed into a cyan mini-skirt, a well-worn baseball style shirt with long turquoise sleeves, black thigh-high stockings, and a sienna French beret, pinned on it was a little gold heart. She pulled on her denim jacket and tied a pair of black velvet ankle boots on, then applied some deep red lipstick on as an afterthought. Grabbing a small backpack with her iBook in it she tossed in her wallet and keys and ran out the door. Back on the subway for about a half an hour, got off near iVillage and headed towards the Tokiwa apartment complex. Scanning the mailboxes for 'Hida' she boarded the elevator and got off at the 13th floor. "Apartment 1324A... apartment 1324A... Ah! Yatta, there it is!" Running up to the door she rang the doorbell. A few minutes later the door opened and Iori appeared.

"Miya-chan!"

"Iori-kun!" They wrapped eachother in a warm embrace and began to blubber to one another through happy tears.

"Miya-chan, I'm so happy you came! Come in! Come in!" The eighth grader ushered in his dear friend and closed the door behind her. Miyako exchanged her boots for a pair of guest slippers in the narrow hallway. "Eh, Mom's in the kitchen waiting for you."

Miyako giggled. "Lead the way." Folding her jacket over one of her arms she followed Iori into a darkened front room when the lights and window blinds suddenly flared up.

"SUPRISE!! WELCOME TO ODAIBA!!!" Several voices chorused and four people jumped out from behind various pieces of large furniture. A tall woman with dark brown hair pinned up in French twist clapped her hands excitedly.

"Miya-chan! Miya-chan's here!"

Miyako held out her arms. "Mrs. Hida!" Hida Mayuri was next to crush Miyako to her breast. "For me? Why?!"

"To welcome you, silly!" A girl Miyako's age with caramel-coloured hair falling below her shoulders said. A pink butterfly clip held back the part. Iori rushed up besides Miyako.

"Oh, Miya-chan let me introduce you to my friends!" He pointed out to the dark-haired girl who spoke to her. "This is Yagami Hikari."

"Hi! I saw you around school this morning," she shook Miyako's hand earnestly. She was dressed in a pink sleeveless turtleneck and white khaki skirt. Her pink lipgloss glistened in the lamplight.

"Nice to meet you Hikari-san."

"Call me Kari- everybody does."

Miyako shrugged. "Kari, cool." Iori turned her attentions to tall boy dressed in a white dress shirt and gray slacks with near shoulder-length indigo hair.

"This is Ichijouchi Ken, Kari's boyfriend. But he goes to Tamachi Gakuen."

"Yoroshiku." They shook hands. "Iori's told us lots about you. It's nice to have a fellow computer geek in our group." Miyako blushed something furious and they laughed.

"Ken's on of those 'special people' with abnormally high I.Q.'s and is annoyingly perceptive." Miyako turned to face another teen, one with scruffy blonde hair underneath a white fisherman's cap and hopeful blue eyes. "Hi, Takaishi Takeru. Call me T.K." His wrdrobe matched his mellowed mood- dark green cargo shorts and a yellow and green Fila shirt zippered up to the hollow of his throat. Miyako flushed for a moment. He looked vaguely familiar. Hida Mayuri emerged fom the kitchen with a tray piled with snacks.

"OK kids, let's get this party started!" They cheered as she lay down the tray on the coffee table and Kari selected a CD from Iori's mother's collection and put it in the stereo. "So who wants what to drink? We have cola, diet cola, oolong tea, some pineapple juice, and I just made a pitcher of pink lemonade."

"I'll take some pineapple juice," T.K. stated.

"Cola's cool," Miyako commented.

"Pink lemonade with lotsa ice for me!" Kari chirped.

"Same for me," said Ken. Mayuri turned to her son before going back into the kitchen.

"Iori?"

"Oolong-cha. Demo Mama," Iori tugged on her beige sweater.

"Hai?"

"Did you call Daisuke-kun? His game should've ended already! It's almost 5:30!" She waved her son's concerns away.

"I tried calling just before Miya-chan arrived. I think he may have switched off his cell phone."

Iori groaned. "He always does this! When he scores, he just has to spike the ball!"

"Daisuke?" Miyako queried? Kari gestured to a framed photograph sitting on a shelf behind her.

"Motomiya Daisuke- a.k.a. my Onii-chan's protege."

"Eh?" T.K. got up from his spot on the rug and crossed the room to get the photograph. He gave it to Miyako for closer inspection. A picture of Hikari, and T.K. in their Odaiba High uniforms, Iori dressed in his usual cordruoy slacks and a comfortable shirt as Odaiba Junior High students didn't wear uniforms, Ken in a green and black soccer uniform with T.H.S. in white block letters emblazoned across the shirt, a soccer ball in the crook of his arm. Flashing the victory symbol with both hands dressed in a red and dark blue soccer uniform with the light gray letters of O.H.S. across his uniform shirt was a young man with spiked maroon hair and short eartails. A pair of goggles atop his head. A taller student with an enormous mop of brown wild hair, university blazer hanging open and shirt untucked with an arm draped over the obvious victor.

"Motomiya Daisuke," T.K. informed pointing to the hyper teen. Miyako nodded and looked to Ken.

"You both play soccer?"

He nodded. "We're on rival teams, but we're good friends." Kari then pointed to the university student in the photo.

"-AND president of the physics club. We've heard it ALL before Kari." A voice cut her off and an Odaiba High gymbag landed in T.K.'s lap. Now dressed in a pair of stonewashed jeans and a black and white Pele T-shirt, and his signatgure goggles Motimiya Daisuke grabbed a handful of the ranch-flavoured chips and joined the party.

"Really Dai-kun, didn't your mother teach you ANY manners?" Iori sighed.

"She gave up when I wouldn't keep my elbows off the table when I was six," he retorted between a mouthful of chips. He turned to Miyako and stuck out his hand. "Yo, Motomiya Daisuke. You're Miya, ne?" He roughly shook her hand.

"Yeah, that's me." Miyako wrung her grip from his.

"Daisuke-kun," Kari admonshed, "you're just jealous!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!

"Are too!"

"KEN!" They both turned to their resident genius. He chortled nervously, a thin sheen of sweat now visible on his forehead.

"A- anou...." A pair of furious eyes on Miyako.

"Daijobu," T.K. assured throwing Daisuke's bag in his face casually. "It's like this all the time."

"But why in my house?!" Iori mumbled folding his arms across his chest. T.K. groaned. "Daisuke has had a thing for Kari since junior high. He was even jealous of me!"

"Hmph!" Daisuke snorted.

"Why was he jealous of you?" Miyako asked.

"T.K. and I have known eachother since we were eight. He honestly thought I had a thing for him!" Kari glared at Daisuke. "And for the millionth time, he's one of my best friends and I could never see him as anything else!"

"Well you coulda fooled me!"

"In the end," T.K. continued, "Kari chose Ken- it was a suprise to the both of us."

"Why was it such a suprise?" Miyako turned to the couple. Ken cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Let's just say when I was in junior high, I was never quite on by best behaviour all of the time." Iori flashed him a twisted look.

"You were an arrogant prick Ken. End of story." Iori got up and went to the kitchen. Miyako flushed, and never thought Iori could ever utter a profanity. The party continued without a hitch for the rest of the evening . Kari being a member of the drama club and one of the best dancers in her dance class, she taught Miyako one of the newest dance crazes currently hitting Odaiba. Iori and T.K. were on the computer playing the gothic horror 'Alice' game, and Daisuke turned on the television to a soccer game and he and Ken were yelling and throwing rice cakes at the screen like idiots. T.K. looked at the didgital clock sitting on the endtable. It read 7:18 P.M.

"Omigod!" He exlaimed jumping from the swivel chair.

"What's wrong T.K.?" Kari asked. He began tossing everybody their shoes.

"The Ice Wolf concert starts at 7:30! We have just about 10 minutes to get the hell to the park!" After a few minutes of confusion and an attempt to spare Mrs. Hida from a huge clean up they all ran out of the apartment.

"How far is it to Odaiba Park?" Miyako asked T.K.

"Not far. It's only a few minutes walk. The elevator landed at the ground floor and began their trek heading down the block.

"Y'know T.K.," Miyako began, "you look kind of familiar. Have we met before?" He chuckled.

"Actually I never formally introduced myself, because Iori wanted to suprise you. I sit two rows behind you in Mrs. Shirou's last period French class."

"Oh!" Miyako nodded. "I guess that's it. I mean, you probably weren't wearing your cap at the time." T.K. blushed.

"Yeah. Hats inside school are against uniform protocol. I wear it outside and tuck it my jacket pocket when I go into class." The rest of the way they were silent and Miyako convinced herself that's why T.K. looked so familiar. Yes, she must have glanced at him while entering or leaving the classroom. The golden hair was the telltale feature... but wasn't there another with the same exact blonde hair and sea-blue eyes? They reached the bandshell in the park where crowds of teens were already seated in the rows of folding chairs and other spectators lined the grassy hills with beach chairs and picnic blankets.

"Oh no," Miyako moaned. "It's so crowded. We'll end up getting nosebleeds if we sit on the grass!"

"Don't worry about it!" Kari said. "We had our seats reserved." She pointed to the front row of seats that were empty.

"You bought tickets in advance?"

Kari shook her head. "It's an open concert. The Parks Department is having a fundraiser to build another playground on this empty lot on the other side of the park. Some rich benefactors were 'supposedly' skeptical about opening up their wallets about the general public frequenting the parks any more considering we spend so much time on-line, the prices of DVD players going down, HDTV, sattelite dishes getting more advanced, and now the flat TV set is upgrading people's home entertainment centers who the hell wants to go outside any more? So they went crazy this summer by holding carnivals, festivals, the circus came to preform, having fairs- you know. So they generated some of the cash they needed and it got the fat cats to pull out their cheque books. Ice Wolf has played at every single event! It's because of them the teen age crowds are drawn in."

Taking their seats, Miyako noticed many girls- most of which dressed provocatively- had taken the first four rows by storm. Armed with cameras, flowers and little plush toys, presumably tributes for the band they were scribbling little notes and stuffing them into the toys or tying them to the flowers. Miyako guessed correctly that what was written on the scraps of paper were phone numbers and little messages. They began getting restless despite the latest Legolgel single blasting over the PA system. Technitians were testing the mics and gigantic amps, while others tuned the two guitars, synthesizer, and drums. A group of female seniors that Miyako recognised from school began giggling and screaming.

"MATT IS THE HOTTEST!!!" They shouted in unison.

"'Matt'?"

"Band leader's name- well, nickname for the most part." Ken pointed out. Miyako suddednly remembered her phone conversation with Iori from the previous night.

"Oh! Ishida Yamato! Yamato- Matt, makes sense."

T.K. turned around from talking to this girl in the seat behind him. "What about my brother?"

Brother? What was she missing?

"B- b- brother? Ishida Yamato is your brother?"

T.K. nodded nonplussed. "Yeah. He goes to our university."

"But your name's Takaishi! How could-" T.K. raised a hand to quiet her. He sighed uncomfortably.

"I get this a lot. But I should be used to it now. My parents divorced when I was about three, my Mom got custody of me and my Dad took Matt. Takaishi Natsuko is my mother's maiden name and my father's name is Ishida Masaharu."

"But technically you are an Ishida."

"True. But my Mom was waaaay pissed at Dad after they divorced so she had it changed."

"Can't you change it now? I mean you're 17...."

"Yeah... but the paperwork is hell to pay and it's not so cheap. Besides there are family issues as well."

Miyako lifted an elegant eyebrow. "'Family issues'?"

"Put it this way, my big brother is 100% Ishida. He's got the temperament, the attitude, and the drive. Believe me, when he announced he was going for professional musician as a career choice he needs the Ishida drive." T.K. trailed off, an overtone of sadness took over. Miyako touched his shoulder.

"Oh T.K...." He smiled then at her sympathy. "You miss him, don't you."

He shook his head. "No. I miss growing up without him. I can see him whenever I want now."

"But you don't really need him anymore?"

"I don't know." He replied non-committedly. "Miya, it's just-" A deafening guitar riff cut T.K. off and Miyako was thrown to the ground by hysterical fangirls jumping out of their seats. Her friends stood up and started clapping and hooting wildly when presumably the band made it to the stage. She looked up to see a familiar blonde with rougish hair, his red and black bass across his hips smirking with satisfaction. Dressed now in tight black jeans, a black T-shirt and a black pin-striped white dress shirt hanging open, cuffs rolled to the elbows. He strutted up to the centremost mic.

"Well that got your attention." Mullet cackled from behind the drums and Specs and Spike took their proper stances behind their respective instruments. Wild cries of 'AKIRA**, YOU'RE SO COOL!', 'YUTAKA** IS 'DA MAN!', 'TAKAHASHI** IS MINE!', of course what the main reason as to why roughly 80% percent of the audience was female: 'YAMA-CHAN I LOVE YOU!!' rose above any other insanity.

"YAMA, YAMA YOU'RE SO FINE!

WON'T YOU BE MINE?

HEY YAMA! HEY YAMA!"
A weird chanting came from the one of the back rows. Miyako and the others turned around and saw four girls dressed in four identical cheerleader-style outfits with 'Ice Wolf' embroidered in ice blue on their blouses waving pink pom-poms doing the twist to their mantra. One of them was a tall girl with wildly teased maroon hair, clearly the most animated of the four.

"I LOVE YOU MATT! YOU'RE THE GREATEST!! WHOOO!!!!" Daisuke growled vehemently raking his fingers through his hair before shooting up from his seat.

"SIT THE FUCK DOWN JUN! YOU'RE MAKING ME LOOK BAD!!" Ken cracked up.

"YOU DON'T NEED ME TO DO THAT FOR YOU DAISUKE! YOU DO IT ENOUGH TO YOURSELF!!" He let out a strangled growl.

Miyako leaned into T.K.'s side. "What was that all about?"

"Motomiya Jun is Dai-kun's older sister. She's a senior at the university and president of the 'We Love Ice Wolf and Yama-chan Fan Club'."

"You've gotta be kidding me." Miyako settled herself down into her seat trying to shield her face with her beret should Matt see her. He crossed the stage and placed his bass on its stand and a short groan came from the audience.

"Daijobu!" Matt reassured. "You won't even miss it for this one!" He put a blues harp to his lips and blew out a lengthy angsty tune before tossing it behind him.

"AH!

Mada, muri darou? Hora miro yo

Atatte maji de kudakecha

Imi ga nai daro?

Maa, yaritakya tomerarenai kedo

Atsuku narya nan demo

Ii wake ja nai

Sukoshi CO-O-O-OL ni nare

Atama wo hiyase yo

Donna GA-A-A-AME datte

Kateru CHANCE wa aru sa."

Yamato slid on one knee to the edge of the stage where three screetching girls were trying to reach out to the band. He dramatically slicked his hair back, making one of said fangirls fall backward in a dead faint. He ran back to the mic stand and slid it back into its holder and continued with the number.

"Ore hitori de daijobu sa

KNIFE no ue darou ga aruite yaru- AHH!

Kanou, fukanou

Demo, oretachi

Erabareta kodomo nara

Dekiru hazu sa

COME ON!"

With the mic stand as his dance partner, Yamato swung his hips from side to side and proceeded to ease off his dress shirt suggestively, and ripped it off throwing it to the side. An orgasmic cry rose from the crowds and Yamato's bandmates were ready to fall down laughing. Yamato winked at them wanting to join in.

"ALL RIGHT!

Atsui HEA-A-ART nanka

Ore ni mo aru kedo

Tate ni su-u-uru you na

Tsukaikata nanka dekinai

Ore hitori de daijoubu sa

KNIFE no ue darou ga aruite yaru

KNIFE no ue darou ga aruite yaru.
"***

The band graciously bowed and Yamato was handed his bass by the other guitarist. Effectively Miyako went deaf from the madness and suddenly felt asphixyated- and it was only the first song of the first set. Ninety minutes later as Ice Wolf was serenading the crowd with its closing solemn ballad, 'Oretachi no Melody'. They were showered with toys, flowers, and various other little gifts they took their final bow and ran off stage with the rabid fangirls attempting to chase after them only to be halted by Parks Department security officers. Miyako, fairly certain that despite sitting in the front row, Yamato hadn't noticed her as he was so wrapped up in feeding the teen-age sexual fantasy announced that she was ready to go home. Kari and Iori whined at her departure, and began blabbering something about a post-concert party.

T.K. explained that his older brother invited him and his friends to a party at the club they usually headlined at. "It's at The Verve ! You'll love it!" Kari and T.K. taking an arm each, dragged Miyako to the bus stop. Within 20 or so minutes she found herself in a cramped booth, virgin strawberry daquiri in hand, shrinking into the deep leather of the arched bench watching Ice Wolf on the narrow stage preform a revival of Mundy's, 'To You I Bestow'.The thickly smoke-laden air irritated her throat and the glare of the neon signs and strobe lights from the uncontrollable dance floor stung her eyes. Taking off her featherweights she rubbed her eyes in an effort to stimulate her tear ducts and decided to freshen up. The band had finished their set and applause errupted. Miyako got up and struggled her way through the chaos to try to find the restrooms. Asking one of the waiters, he pointed to a wrought iron spiral staircase and informed her that the men's and women's rooms were on the second floor landing. Climbing up the steps she spotted Iori talking to a girl his age wearing a plum-coloured Chinese style dress and her long black hair in French braid. She motioned to him that she would be in the restroom and went upstairs. The landing was dim with a single flickering lightbulb, a ring of moths flocking about it. A pink neon sign which read 'LADIES' was at the far end of the landing, but Miyako never made it. A steely grip around her narrow waist and a hand clapped over her mouth she found herself flung onto a soft surface. Her featherweights fell onto the floor. A soft light was snapped on and an orange glow attacked her senses.

Eventually coming to, squinting, Miyako was able to make out ember trickling down to the stained carpet. A tall figure in black settled back against the wall. He took a long drag from the cigarette and flicked it out the window. "We comfy?" Miyako scrambled up against the chintzy bed's headboard. She was atop a pile of jackets, Yamato then threw himself beside her and reclined. Once again slicking his shaggy hair back he faced her.

"H- how did you-"

"Let's talk about you," he cut off her stammering. "Or rather your punishment for my humiliation."

"Humiliation?! As I recall you're the one who started it! You're the one who-" Yamato lunged himself on her and latched his mouth to hers. Her colour high Miyako lay there for a moment in shock before thrashing beneath him. Miyako tore her mouth from his and rolled onto her stomach, but to no avail. Yamato's right hand snaked itself under her blouse, and his left thrust under her skirt. "NO!!" Removing his right hand and shoving his elbow into the small of her back, Miyako's face was pushed into the mattress.

"Be good. You'd better be good," Miyako nodded and maneuvered herself onto her back. Repositioning himself with both knees firmly on either side of her, Matt took her right hand and slid the cuff of her sleeve down, only slightly to expose the tender flesh of her wrist. A butterfly's wing touch of his thumbnail grazing against the purple and blue-hued skin before applying the tip of his tongue there. Miyako slammed her eyes shut, determined to disassociate herself from her situation. His mouth firmly pressed against her wrist and she could feel him glaring at her. Gradually Matt moved in, blood pounded in Miyako's ears. Closer... and closer still. Now she felt his breath on her face and the gentle pressure of his lips on hers. Then it was gone. Two large tears of obvious relief rolled down her cheeks. Gritting his teeth, Matt crushed his mouth to Miyako's. Forcing entry into her mouth, his tongue lapped at her tender upper lip. Her lipstick tasted faintly of cherries, and the hot iciness of her daquiri didn't improve her position.

Forcing Miyako up by both wrists, Matt sat behind her and pinioned her arms painfully in midair. By now her hat joined her glasses on the floor which gave Matt the opportunity to twist his fingers through her hair and pull her cranium back to face him. Miyako cried out in fear or pain, Matt wasn't sure of which. And he didn't care. Potruding his tongue once again into her mouth so deeply as if to suck the life blood from her, his tongue wrestled with hers drawing it into his mouth and sucking on it. He rolled it around her mouth before breaking away from her. Miyako still would not look at him, arms now hanging limp at her sides she left him no choice. Expertly he slid both hands under her blouse and unclasped her bra feeling the plastic hooks in the front. Matt's fingertips played around the aureolas of her coral nipples, causing Miyako to finally audibly respond even if it was only slightly. Gathering the mounds of flesh in his hands, Matt kneaded Miyako's breasts. "You have a very honest body," he remarked. Miyako was flustered and panting now. Too far gone to respond.

His right hand found its way under her skirt. Panties pushed aside, her warmth and wetness was his to explore.

"Aaah...!" Miayko groaned. Something slightly penetrated her and began to stroke in upward movements. "Aaaahh...!!" Miyako's hips now moving in unison with Matt's hand clamped between her legs, that ultra-sensitive spot his plaything. "Aaahhh...!!!" Matt nibbled her ear, then moved onto her shoulders with his hands providing her with equisite torture until Miyako could take it no more...

"YAMATO!!!!" Miyako shouted and collapsed onto the mattress, blissfully unconscious. Her scent was all over him. Matt lit up another cigarette and got up off the bed.

"You brought this on yourself Miya-chan." And he strutted back to the party.

Whew! That took a lot out of me! Well I hope you've enjoyed this one because it'll only get better. A big thanx to all who reviewed!! I hope you enjoy reading this as I do writing it. And one more thing, in response to SummerSpirit's comment to her review- believe you me, reading in paragraphs is a BITCH! But I don't have an HTML program in my computer, only txt. format. I usually write in doc. format then transfer it to txt. to submit. I hate it as well, trust me on this one. Ja ne for now!

*- The exact model type of Yamato's axe. Info recieved from the site The Fantabulous World of Yamato Ishida.

**- The original Japanese names of "The Teen-Age Wolves". Info also from the aforementioned site.

***- Lyrics compliments of Megchan's Digimon Sekai.