| Chapter 1 Another day at Seshumoro Prep School and Yora was sure she would die of boredom and too much homework. Her strawberry-blonde hair was drawn up on either side of her head into large pigtails that hung past her shoulders. Her uniform was a white T-shirt with a dull gray skirt that hung to her knees, along with plain black shoes and white stockings. At least she had her friends, she thought cheerfully. There was Osakae Rudounin known often as Seria, Tina (or Pikagirl), Tina�s little sister Hoshi, and Yora's apprentice Eru. And as usual, as she rounded the corner into the student's lounge, she was hit with a barrage of angry voices, courtesy of her four comrades. Thank God this was the last week of school. Towards the back, Pikagirl stood quietly with her head bowed as Seria yelled in her ear for being obnoxious and immature. Across the room Eru and Hoshi exchanged verbal blows. Yora dove into the fray of shouting friends and passing students. She grabbed Pikagirl and dragged her away from Seria's vicious scolding, on towards Hoshi and Eru. Yora hooked Pikagirl around her right arm, and then tugged the younger girls to either side of her by their ears. Yora had let Seria escape this time, but when lunch came she would have her revenge as the Mediator. That's how it went. It's what she did. This...was how things were. For now. \\// Nonoske Huro scanned the area doubtfully, noting the fact that there must have been at least eight thousand people crammed into the one large building. It was a school of course, but surely he couldn't find the darned spies unless he either had their identities or the idiots displayed their powers- even if they had the identities, the spies would probably be in disguise anyway...All he knew was that there were people in that school with powers that only someone from Knox could hope to possess. Only spies might find a good reason to pose as a human in an earthan school. A tall figure arose behind him. "Anything?" Nonoske pleaded more than asked. "Notta," Monk answered. "Dear God, they gotta tell us somethin'! This is completely useless." "We gotta go in." "You�re kidding." "Nope." Nonoske stared hard at the many students racing to beat the bell, as if he were expecting to spot one of them start jumping up and down shouting, �Come and get me!" Of course that wouldn't happen anytime soon. Nonoske was seventeen. He was a little over the average height, boasting the finely toned muscles of a martial artist. His wild black hair seemed untamable, fitting with the dangerous stare of his piercing green eyes. The twenty-three-year-old monk, at least a head taller, held a physique similar to that of his partner. Long white hair ran in a neat braid down his back to a little below his knees, with great bangs that nearly hid his sapphire eyes. They both wore a white tunic tied at the waist with a leather belt, and sand-colored trousers, then black Japanese slippers. (What my friend�s call H.O.T.!) Nonoske nodded slyly. "I think we need new uniforms." \\// Seria rushed down the corridors as fast as possible, her urgent news already tumbling from her mouth. This was of utmost importance, she had to find Yora! Seria was just in time to catch her locker in mid-slam. "YORA, YORA, YORA, YORA, YORA,� she cried, �URGENT NEWS!" "You've decided to separate yourself from Tina for the rest of my life?" Yora asked sarcastically. Seria couldn't keep the words together long enough to get a decent story out for Yora. "Two-two new guys, I fell, he-caught me, asked if was alright-said yeah- YORA HE ACTUALLY TOUCHED ME! THEY ARE SOOOOOOOOOO HOT!� "Didja thank him?" "Duh." "Well then, why are ya freaking out? Seria gave the most dumbfounded look Yora had ever seen. Of course. This was so like Yora. Seria�s slightly sexist companion had been a good friend with a few guys. They both had been. But they began to treat the girl�s like- girl�s...not friends. All the guys at school treated the girls bad for not wearing makeup and revealing clothing. And so, Yora had the right to not bother with guys. They were too complicated for her right now. She'd just stick with the Spits. ((())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())) (()) Spits: Each spit sister or best friend backwash a glass of water. Pour a bit of each (()) (()) Glass into a new one. Each girl takes a drink. Now they are spit sisters� (()) ((())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())) Pikagirl stood silently watching the two pass. She had no idea what she was doing spying on the poor boys, but there was definitely something wrong with these two. They were somehow different from everyone else. Pikagirl sighed and brushed that notion away. She was 18; it was her job to drool over boys not be suspicious of them, right? Wasn�t that right? Still, she decided to keep a close eye on them. She wore the standard white T-shirt, and white and gray skirt uniform, her see-blue hair hanging just below her shoulders and dazzling green eyes resembling emeralds. Then in her arms was a her Pokemon notebook. It was red with a sleeping Pikachu on the cover. Pikachu was her favorite pokemon, and she carried the notebook everywhere. Right now she was in hiding. Seria needed time to cool her jets before she could have a civilized conversation with Tina again. Actually, she really had no idea what she�d done wrong. All she remembered was making a joke about some trainer she�d met on her Gameboy. Anyway, it was like this most days with Seria-she�d explode in Pikagirl�s face for some pointless reason, sometimes there wasn�t even a reason, and then they�d spend the rest of the day wishing the other would just die. Pikagirl sighed. Seria just needed a good old heavy-duty punching bag for Christmas, that was all. \\// |