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Heart still beating a mile a minute, Sakura, stepped into the bathroom in the basement of the school hesitantly. She swallowed the fear that began flowing along her spine and pooling in her gut, it rose upward to choke off any self assuring words and threatened to let loose a scream if she spoke. Moving in front of one of the dirty mirrors she looked at her face and let her duffel bag fall to the floor. She exhaled as she saw her own reflection the fear began to subside decidedly.

“Okay, it was just a dream. I’m not crazy, just a dream. her voice bounced about the green tiled walls of the bathroom and came back to her ears as not quite her own. She turned on the cold tap and and listened to water flow into the basin for a moment. She paused, her body curling slightly as she placed her hands just out of reach of the water she looked into her own eyes and startled at the soft whispers of something. She couldn’t place it, but looked about once more in particular looking at the half opened stall doors. It sounded like a far off giggled warped by a barrier. She felt her heart pick up rhythm again and quickly shoved her fingers into the water. She produced a wince, but did not flinch from the sting of water entering the fresh wounds. Pulling them from the water, she peered at both sets. The tips about the nails were ragged the flesh broken and swollen. Remnants of blood still remained, she knew in the back of her mind she hadn’t broken her nails off that way. It was from those talons in her dream.

“I’m insane–” she sighed and denied herself the pleasure of reveling in something is idiotic and fantastical as all of this, “–this is stupid.” She shook her hands of water and shouldered her bag once again. As she walked to the door she passed a senior coming in, a blonde girl with the prettiest short cut hair. “Excuse me.”

“No problem!” the girl replied, Sakura continued on her way.

The students were begining to thin out, making Sakura’s walk much easier to the glass quadruple doors. She looked near the evergreen hedgerow seeking Isamu, but he wasn’t there yet. She frowned as she made her way there deciding she would sit on the low brick wall before the evergreen shrubbery. She flicked her gaze about the multitude of students, a virtual sea of bodies. As she made her way to the brick wall someone gave her shoulder a tug, she resisted slightly but found her interloper drawing her closer against her will.

“Hey! What’s up?” she recognized the voice, it belonged to a tall Senior he was just over six feet tall. He was a varsity baseball player. He was a fairly popular guy by the name of Timothy.

“What?” she tried to take as much of the attitude out of her voice as possible, and gave up her short lived struggled to step away from him. His arm was firmly about her shoulders.

“Somethin’ wrong?” he pulled her just a bit closer, her shoulder touching his ribcage. She managed to keep at least a bit of distance by leaning the opposite way, but gave that up as well when she saw Isamu come around the opposite corner of the hedgerow. In fact, she sank against him and couldn’t help but smile.

“No, what’s up?” she looked up and to the side, painting upon her face the best look of adoration she could muster, being sure to let Isamu see her pleasure.

“Awesome. Look, on Friday I’m throwin’ a party. It’s kicking off at my house. I’m invitin’ all the coolest chicks and cats in the school. You helped me with some calculus last week, so I thought, hey. Wanna be my personal guest?” the way he spoke made her feel just a little important, and so readily agreed.

“Yeah! I’ll be there. Send me your address okay?” she popped a wide smile at him and dared to glance Isamu’s way making he was looking once again.

“Cool, I’ll toss it in your locker tomorrow. Catch ya later!” he slid away coolly, grinning on his way.

She met Isamu fifteen bricks down the row, he looked at her and turned away. He didn’t speak, instead he just started walking. Sakura ‘hmphed’ and followed behind him. As they walked she waited for him to say something, but he remained silent. Finally, she spoke up over the traffic that was flowing back and forth int he streets.

“I got invited to a party!” she took some personal satisfaction in saying it.

“Yeah, so?” he shrugged as he spoke and didn’t bother turning to look at her.

“Did you get invited?” she taunted him with her new found popularity.

“Yeah, I said no. I’m busy.” Sakura glared at the back of his head he must have felt it because he turned to look at her. Walking like a crab, he frowned at her. “Why do you care? I’m just a mutt remember? Whatever, go to the party and see how they treat you Sakura. Whatever…” he turned back around and picked up his pace.

She blinked at the onslaught of words from him, they were dripping with jealousy. She took great satisfaction in it and dutifully followed him. Matching his pace, she easily set aside the guilt that threatened to overtake her good senses. He had taken the short way home, avoiding the park where they would drink a soda or eat a snack. She stopped a block away from their respective homes and spoke up once again.

“I have practice today.”

“Yeah, I know. Have fun with that.” he was as indignant as ever.

“Fine–” she watched him wait for the light to change, he was leaning against the silver metal pole. She decided if he looked back she’d apologize to him. The light changed and he started into the crosswalk, she waited for a moment longer and then started walking. “Asshole.” she murmured to herself and didn’t look back. She didn’t see him turn around as she walked.

Sakura looked at the sheet of paper that consisted of her AP Literature test. She glanced at the clock and smiled inwardly, finished 20 minutes early. It was the last class of the day, maybe should could nap. As she slid out of her desk, she quietly picked up her paper and left the pen behind. Mr. Dixson arched a brow as she approached his desk, he had been reading a magazine on a poetry contest.

Setting down his reading material he took the paper from Sakura, whispering he asked her. “Do you have a question?”

Sakura shook her head, “No, I’m finished” she replied, and then walked away, leaving Mr. Dixson to look over her answers. She returned to her seat and watched him for a moment before folding her arms atop the light brown lacquered desk top. Cradling her head, she closed her eyes in preparation for slumber; however, her mind wouldn’t turn off. She felt restless, something sat uncomfortably in the back of her skull like a splinter.

Turning her head she looked across the classroom at the clock on the wall and frowned. She still had 15 minutes of time to burn, and they were crawling. Puting her head back down she tried to keep her mind off of Isamu. She thought of Chris from lunch, quiet pale boy that sat with all of the unpopular kids. He was always nice to her though. Terrance from gym class, he was a football player and always hit on her; however, he was very tall and black. He made her a little nervous. she thought about AP Chemistry and helping Shelby finish off her lab assignment. She couldn’t resist, and Isamu emerged from all her thoughts; and with that she fell asleep.

She found herself standing in her bathroom at hom, looking at the mirror. She looked behind her and back at the mirror, she saw the painting that was in the hallway within the mirror’s reflective glass but not herself. Frowning she reached out and touched her fingertips to the glass, sending ripples along its smooth surface as if it were created of water. She withdrew her hand immediately and felt a stirring in the pit of her stomach, fear. The ripples radiated out to the edges of the mirror and rebounded, oddly the remaining disturbances within the mirror did not interfere they simply began to follow the current and head toward the center. Sakura stepped back from the mirror, as if sensing the desire to flee the mirror extended a tentacle of reflective silver toward her. It was as if it wished to reach out, and as it neared her she moved to touch it again. Fear and curiosity fought for but a brief instant as she toched the rounded tip of the silvery tendril. It was ice cold and viscous. As she withdrew her hand once more and stepped away, the tendril turned toward the sterile tile of the floor, pooling at her feet. She could see herself in the growing pool.

“Weird.” she saw her breath as she spoke and realized that she was freezing, her voice was hollow. Without warning the silvery pool shot upward, causing Sakura to stumble back. It began to take shape, forming a perfect replica of her before seemingly turning to flesh. Even its voice was the same.

“Weird!” the duplicate of herself giggled, placing a hand before its mouth. It looked at Sakura and lowered its hand, the eyes that peered at her becoming depthless black. As if she were looking into nothingness, the end of all things.

“Wh–” Sakura placed her hand upon her chest, her heart beat was out of control it made her head pound and her chest actually hurt. “What are you…who are you?” fear was evident in the volume and peircing tone of her voice.

The twin simply giggled again and cocked its head t the side. “Who are you?” the voice sounded more real than her own.

“Answer me!” Sakura began to take a step back.

The imposter craned its head forward and extended a hand, black talons elongated from its fingers they were all smeared with blood. “I am.” one of the deadly and curved claws touched Sakura’s chest, just beneath her own hand. “You!” it’s voice rose and at once, her double shoved its taloned hand completely through her chest. Pain radiated out from the breaking bones that gave way to the powerful creature. It lifted her from her feet and began to undulate, becoming a midnight black hulking, shreiking beast. “Weak mortal!” a fanged maw sprang from the beast’s face and just as it meant to tear away at Sakura, the entire scene vanished.

She heard her voice, “Sakura?” She bolted upright, sucking air into her lungs. She was still caught between dream and reality. She realized then that she was still in her classroom, her heart trying to escape her chest. She looked to her right and peered at Mr. Dixson. “Are you alright?”

“What? Yes. I’m fine.” she chanced a look about the calssroom, everyone was gone. Her heart was still pounding and the fear hadn’t quite subsided.

“You’re bleeding.” he grabbed her right hand and looked at her fingers, blood was oozing its way from where he nails had broken on all four fingers. “Oh my, give me your other hand.”

Sakura tore her arm away from his grasp and scrambled from her seat. “I have to go.” she jerked her bag from the floor.

“You need to go to the nurse.” He was trying very hard to appear outwardly calm. “How did that happen?” he sounded concerned, and began to move around the desk. Sakura visibly flinched and started her retreat.

“Leave me alone!” she managed not to shout, but several kids from outside the classroom looked in on the two. With all the agility adrenaline afforded her, she ran from the classroom, leaving Mr. Dixson to blink at the rapidity in which she moved. She left him behind to ponder what he should do. He decided a call to her mother would be in order.

“God, there’s blood all over the desk.” he tsked and made his way into the hall, the students having all moved into their cliques preparing to go wherever it is they decided was cool and fun for the week. Upon a cursory glance, Sakura was no where to be seen; however, he happened to see Isamu. Stepping before him, Isamu looked instantly nervous.

“Oh, excuse me Mr. Dixson.” he started to walk around the teacher, but didnt’ move fast enough. Mr. Dixson placed a hand in his path.

“Do you have time to talk for a minute Isamu?” for some reason he kept his voice low.

“My parents are expecting me home, I really can’t be late.”

“It’s about your friend Sakura. I know you two walk home together.” he offered a reassuring smile, but Isamu didn’t go for it.

“Maybe tomorrow? I come early on Tuesdays for band practice. Can we talk then?” Isamu didn’t look at all comfortable with having this conversation, in fact he looked preoccupied about something.

“That’s fine Isamu. Thank you. Now, get home you have a paper due tomorrow don’t you?” he offered some humor for the boy, but Isamu simply nodded and darted down the hallway. He slipped into the throng of students and out of view.

Sakura hurridly finished off her rice porridge standing in the kitchen before the sink. She placed the bowl within the stainless steel polished basin for Inoue to wash later. She moved upon teh balls of her feet, bounding back into her room, looking quickly about she murmured to herself, “Where’s my sweater?” The sun was soon to touch the horizon, she frowned peering at the venetian blinds to the outside world. “There it is!” she exclaimed, spotting the sweater upon the wall to her left right next to her door. She dashed down the hallway, light upon her feet before coming to her mother’s door. She sank to her knees, holding the maroon sweater, a soft cashmere within her lap. Her knuckles faintly tapped upon the thin wooden frame of the door.

“Come in.” Inoue’s voice came through the door. Sakura slid the door open and rose partially. She came to rest once again just inside the room, greeted by the purposely dim lights an almost amber glow radiated from the various bulbs as she shut the door. Sakura peered over her mother’s left shoulder, her eyes were closed, to look at Inoue, who was brushing Utada’s hair carefully.

“I am going to school.” she tipped her head slightly and passed a smile to her mother, seeing her eyes begin to open. “I have practice with Suzuki after school. You will be awake before I am home.”

Utada motions for her daughter, prompting her to rise and cross the room immediately. She stopped before her mother, lowering herselve once again to her knees, her body coming to rest atop her legs. She began to lean forward then, Utada meeting her and placing a kiss upon Sakura’s forehead.

She then spoke, “Be careful at school, and tell Suzuki to prepare another day for yur training.”

“I will, but why another day? I have learned all of his teachings.” Sakura began to look concerned, her brow furrowing, it could be heard in her vocie.

“Yes, you have. You are exceptional, but you are stronger now. You will be learning a new form. You will need the extra day to excel at it.” Utada’s voice was soothing, as she returned to an upright position. Sakura looked at her and quickly masked the displeasure in having heard this news.

“Yes mother.” She did not protest, she didn’t dare betray her mother’s word. Silently, she rose to her feet and left the room, carefully moving as her mother had taught her. She shortened her stride and put the slightest of sways to her hips, as she lowered herself to the floor once again she reopened the door and stepped out closing the door before getting up and bounding down the hallway.

“Damnit….” she let the word trail off as she realized she’d not bothered to go get her bag from Isamu after their fight. She pulled her sweater over her head, tugging her ponytail from within the turtle neck. She decided to simply go without her bag and opened the front door. She checked the pockets of her dark blue jeans and nodded, confirming that she had her keys and steps out into the apartment complex hallway. She headed toward the exit, yawning behind her right hand, Inoue would lock the door.

As she stepped outside the complex she stood in the doorway, sliding her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, her elbows fanned out from her body widely. As she stood there she become aware of a presence it was near causing her to snap her head to the right, eyes narrowing to see what had set off her suspicion. He was standing, well leaning against the wall, his arms were crossed before him and his expression was blank.

“I brought your bag.” as he spoke he slid it across the ground a bit just enough to make her aware of it. She searched his words and voice for some sign, a hint of his mood or feelings. Decidedly she was going to punish him for being arrogant.

“Thanks–” was all she offered as she stepped over to her bag and extended her left hand to pick it up. “I didn’t get any homework done.”

“Not my fault.” he shrugged and started off down the street, he didn’t even look at her the way he normally did, it fueled her growing displeasure with him. He didn’t even apologize for being mean to her, she gritted her teeth.

“You should have brought it to me!” she shouted after him as she picked up the bag and slung it over her left shoulder. She began walking after him, but she didn’t pass him by, instead she followed just to his left, speaking with the slightest touch of anger brewing. “You could have at least brought it to me…”

“Shut up Sakura.” the monotone set her off completely. She reached out and pushed him.

“Dont’ tell me to shut up–” she pusehd him again and put more force into it than she thought, he stumbled and whirled about. “I’m sor–” Isamu’s hand blackened her vision for a moment, the crack of his open hand against her cheek rattled her brain. She didn’t hear the grunt that came from his throat as he unloaded the smack just beneath her cheekbone. The force took her head down and to the side causing her to step back from the effort he put into it.

“Shut. Up.” he looked through narrowed eyes as she brought a hand up to her face. Tears welled in her eyes, he felt the twinge of guilt begin in the pit of his stomach. Before he allowed it to get any further and end up apologizing, he turned away and walked away.

She stood there as the sun began to cast orange fire across the sky and cried, she didnt’ follow him; instead, she watched him walk away through blurry tear marred eyes. It hadn’t even hurt that much, she thought. But coming from him, she felt as if she’d been punched, and so she cried.

“Asshole.” she began to walk the long way to school still rubbing her face.

Sakura shoved the door of her apartment open, as she blew in from the hallway. She paused only long enough to grip the edge of the door and with a practiced whipping motion, flung it closed. It slammed within the threshold and she stood there glaring accusingly at the white painted wooden door. Her right hand curled into a fist, her fingers gathering into her palm.

“What is wrong?” the soft spoken words were curious, not demanding. It was Inoue, Sakura’s caretaker.

Sakura whirled upon her heels, the skirt she’d worn blossoming out from her legs. She met Inoue’s eyes and shook her head rapidly, mouthing words before actually speaking. “No Inoue san.” she started forward, but Inoue was blocking her way. She tipped her head to peer at Sakura.

“Are you wearing make up?” she sounded genuinely sincere, but stepped away from the narrowed gaze that Sakura delivered.

“Leave me alone.” The threat in her voice was clear, Inoue stepped back while bowing.

“I’m sorry Sayou chan.” The girl was already beginning to storm away, she moved in long inelegant strides, “We are having Unadon”, Inoue called to Sakura. The bedroom door slammed, and with a sigh Inoue walked back into the kitchen.

The smell of Unagi began to fill the apartment as Inoue grilled the meat. Eel was one of her favorite foods. She did not eat it often, but Utada asked that it be cooked. It was a treat to share with the family. She watched the cooking eel and hummed to the soft but tinny music playing on the small CD player resting upon the kitchen’s grey marble counter.

“Forgive me Kimiko chan.” she hadn’t heard the girl approach, but felt her presence when Sakura began to slide her arms around the servant’s waist. Sakura brought her head to rest upon Inoue’s right shoulder blade, the woman cooking unagi did nothing, she simply stood there. “I was very angry with him. He doesn’t even look at me, I don’t understand. Am I not beautiful?” Inoue felt her young mistress press against the length of her body.

“You are beautiful Sakura chan. Maybe he is blind.” Inoue offered, she felt Sakura move, gliding along her figure.

Sakura spoke her voice just barely making it over the music playing upon the small radio Inoue was listening to. “He watched me shower once, after practice. I left the door open, but he did not come in.”

“What made you do that?” Inoue carefully began turning the unagi, the sizzle and smell of the meat made her mouth water. She hoped silently that her tone did not betray her displeasure with what Sakura felt necessary to tell her.

“I wanted to know if he would look –” her skin warmed as Sakura spoke, the girl’s breath passing along the side of her neck and over her ear; creeping along her cheek. “–and he did, but he closed the door very quietly.”

“He is polite. You don’t have to do that Sakura chan–” Inoue turned the unagi once again while she spoke. “–maybe he is shy, do not make him uncomfortable; he is not a full Japanese remember?” The eel was finished, and she turned the fire off. Sakura released her finally, sliding away as a silken robe would fall from one’s shoulders.

“I will get bowls.” Sakura walked across the large kitchen and Inoue looked over her shoulder to watch her. She had changed clothes while in her room. She had chosen a tank top and gunmetal grey sweat pants, she’d rolled the waist band because they were too large for her. Sakura busied herself with obtaining the bowls from an overhead cabinet. Inoue picked up hashi from the hashi oki. The two moved in tandem, Sakura placing rice in the bowls and Inoue meticulously placing the unagi and soya atop it.

Inoue placed the hashi and bowls upon a tray and went to the refrigerator. Opening the door, she looked inside for something to drink. She reached inside and decisively removed two cans of coconut juice, she raised one and motioned to Sakura. The girl nodded her affirmation and Inoue shut the door, moving across the kitchen in small quick steps. She lifted the tray and cocked her head to Sakura, prompting the girl to move into the hallway and make her way to the living room, Inoue followed.

“Television?” Sakura had picked up the remote, and was already lowering the volume as she sat, Inoue placed the tray in the center of the table. The tray sat atop the kamon carved, painted, and then lacquered over upon the table’s center. It was Utada’s family crest; a bold black circle filled with the black image of a wide winged sparrow in flight.

“Yes.” Inoue unloaded the tray, she placed a bowl with both hands before Sakura and lay hashi across it. She then quietly shook the can of coconut juice before pulling the tab back and opening it, the pop and spritz sound of air breaking over the show that was playing itself out on the television. The can came to rest upon the table to Sakura’s left.

“Thank you Kimiko, but mom’s not here. You don’t have to serve me.” She looked Inoue over for a moment before turning her attention to the television, two doctors were speaking with great conviction about something. Inoue went about preparing her eating space and paused when she looked to see that Sakura had not touched her hashi yet.

“It will be no good cold.” Inoue suggested quietly, she had already picked up her bowl and waited for Sakura to do the same. After a moment the girl did so, and began to eat. Inoue silently began to eat her Unadon.

Sakura offered her compliments between bites”It is good!” she was very impressed, her voice rising in tone.

“Thank you Sakura..”

The television played on as they ate.

Isamu looked with what he imagined was horror across the broad mahogany table and simply blinked. That was the only response he coudl muster, the look of a man wide eyed before a firing squad. Complete betrayal of his sense and motor skills ensued and he nearly tossed himself onto the floor from his chair. He managed to remain reclined within the wooden chair and pretended nothing happened.

“What?” her voice was touched with irritation as she stepped across the room, closing the distance between the door of Isamu’s apartment and the dining table. With little effort a graceful wave of her arm sent the very functional duffle bag that she carried to school colliding with the couch on her left. Sakura looked at Isame as some sort of prey he imagined.

“What –” his voice broke into silence as he wondered why his fingers, interlaced at teh back of his head, were suddenly numb. “what did you say?” he cleared his throat nervously.

“I said –” she paused, looking down for a moment, she began to untuck her pristine white oxford style shirt from the depths of her skirt. “I want to have sex with you.” it was the matter of fact tone that disturbed him so, and completely out of the blue. Sure, they had been studying together and walking together to school for several months after the rock incident, but he never saw this coming.

He answered in the worse possible way, it wasn’t all clicking together in his mind. “Why?” immediately he visibly winced. His eyes watched disbelief and then anger spread across Sakura’s face. He began to splay his fingers meaning to sit upright in the chair. She looked to be leaving, and he thought perhaps he should stop her for a moment. She snatched up her bag, bringing it close to her chest before turning to glare at him with dark kohl lined eyes. For a moment he ignored the anger that seethed within her gaze, he hadn’t noticed before that she’d worn makeup today. Her face was visibly lighter, her lips were a deep red purposely, he thought, made to look slightly smaller than they were. She wore her hair out of the usual ponytail, it was pulled away from her neck and pinned, he assumed, into a hidden bun. Horror. She’d worn make up!

“I’m not good enough for you?” she spat at him, there was just the slightest touch of hurt in her voice. She covered it very carefully with attitude. “I hate you –” she moved with all the agility of a cheetah taking down an antelope, her arm outstretched as her body bent toward him, she hurled her bag across the distance. “–fucking mutt!”

Isamu barely had time to right himself, just as he was leaning forward the bag smacked him in the head and chest. The weight of the books within forced him backward and sent him toppling to the floor. His head smacked the carpetted floor with a thud, a much softer thud than the chair that was beneath him but an extremely painful thud all the same. He forced the bag off of himself in time enough to peer beneath the table and watch Sakura storm from the apartment. Isamu imagined pulling his foot out of his mouth and groaned.

“I’m not a mutt…..” he didn’t try to get up.