And Then, They Fell in Love

She blinked at the paper in her hand. Before today, she hadn’t thought he relationship with the prodigy of Japan could get worse. Apparently, she had been wrong.

Today, she had been informed he would be tutoring her in her subjects. Everything from English to Geometry. Not only would he continue to think she was like ‘every other girl’, he would now realize how slow she really was when it came to studies. Sara wasn’t stupid, she knew that. She had finished top in her class last year in Oklahoma, but next to a certified genius . . . She might as well have had the IQ of twenty.

Run Forest, run.

As stuck up as he was, Sara did have to admit Osamu was good looking. At six feet, four inches, hair so black it had a blue sheen, and those violet-blue eyes, he definitely had the girls after him. His face was recognizable anywhere - it was pasted from the newspapers to the girl magazines sold. (Lord only knew where they came from. Osamu didn’t seem the type to pose for a teen magazine.)

Looking at her own reflection, she could see how she differed from most of the girls in her class. Instead of the dark brown/black hair that was common in Japan, her hair was a light brown with blonde streaks running through it. Sara had been accused more than once of highlighting her hair. She paid them no attention - the day they could find different color roots, she would let them win.

Sighing, she fell back on her bed and stared at the ceiling, wishing it could give her answers.

A knock on the door startled her. Aoi bustled in, looking frantic. “Sara,” she said hurriedly. “I need you to do me a favor. Please, get your things together and pack for a week, including your school uniform. My sister was in an accident and I need to visit her. Kenji and I are leaving in an hour and you are staying with my best friend. Ihope you do not mind.”

Sara had the impression Aoi didn’t care if she minded or not. It wasn’t as if she could argue. A family emergency was underway, and a seventeen year old exchange student didn’t matter. She simply nodded and gathered her things and within fifteen minutes, found herself three stories down.

“Wait. I thought you said I was staying with your friend?”

Aoi looked puzzled. “You are. This is her apartment.”

Sara didn’t have time to answer before the door was opened by a young boy. He took one look at Sara and burst into a huge grin. A nagging feeling was in her she had seen this boy before . . . Those eyes looked familiar. . .

Aoi didn’t give her much time to dwell on this before she was shoved into a room. They were greeted by a woman, who Sara assumed to be Aoi’ best friend. They spoke rapidly in Japanese to each other, and the woman turned toward her, nodding and smiling. That nagging feeling was back. Sara had seen this woman somewhere before . . .

It all hit her at once. This was the woman that Aoi had talked with in the supermarket. The same one that had been the mother to . .

Oh no.

Sara,” Aoi spoke up, dragging Sara out of her thoughts. “This is my best friend, Ichijouji Rika. She’s Ichijouji Osamu’s mother. You two are friends? Aren’t you?

An hour later, Sara faced her worst nightmare as Ichijouji Osamu walked through the door with an older man following him. They were speaking rather rapidly, and were smiling, giving the insinuation the two were joking.

“How did it go?”

Osamu to his mother and nodded, then shrugged and grinned at her. “Some as always,” He replied in English. “I’m still legally blind without my glasses What else is new?” His grin died as his eyes landed on her, only to be replaced with a frown that could have made a sunny day go cloudy. “Mom . . “

Rika cut in before her son could go any further. “Aoi had a family emergency. She will be staying with us for the week. Maybe a little more.”

“Where exactly was she planning to sleep?”

“It isn’t like I planned this, you know.” Sara interjected.

He glared. “Oh, so it wasn’t your idea for me to be your tutor either, I expect?”

“It wasn’t! I didn’t know until this afternoon.”

“Right . .”

“That’s enough!”

A sharp voice cut through the teenager’s squabble and Sara turned to see Osamu’s father glaring at both of them. His glare was as strong as Osamu’s and definitely had the same effect. Except, it wasn’t fixed on her this time - it was focused on his son.

“Osamu, you will treat her with the respect she deserves. Be a gentleman like the well-mannered young man you are. Your mother and I taught you better than that.”

Osamu was silent, his gazed still fixed on Sara. Quietly, he bowed toward his father. “Gomen.” With those words, he shot one last look at Sara and stalked toward his bedroom.

Mr. Ichijouji let out a sigh. “Forgive his lack of manners. He usually is more respectable toward guests.”

“I seem to be the exception to that rule.”

“I think you’re nice,” a voice from the couch spoke up. Sara turned to see Osamu’s younger brother grinning up at her. “I like you.”

Sara studied him for a moment, smiling to herself. His hair was the same color as Osamu’s, but flatter, straighter, and much shorter. His eyes, so much like his brother’s, were more blue than Osamu’s. Sara would have to ask where they got their eyes. No Japanese she knew had blue eyes.

“Thank you . . .?”

“Ken.”

“Thanks, Ken.”

Ken gave her a grin and scampered off toward his bedroom. Osamu’s mother shook her head, turning toward Sara and smiling. “I apologize for my son’s behavior. He isn’t. . used to guests being in our house.” She sighed, and walked toward the kitchen. She stopped and turned toward Sara. “Do you cook?”

“Some. I can cook macaroni and cheese, if that counts.”

Mrs. Ichijouji laughed. “Come, come. I’ll help you.”

Cooking gave Sara the chance to get her mind off studies and the boy in the next room. Osamu’s mother, Rika, was a kind, patient woman who Sara grew to love immediately. She couldn’t see how a woman so sweet could raise a son that was such a jerk. She could only hope the week wouldn’t be as bad as their first meeting.

Dinner wasn’t any better.

“Are you going to stare at me all night, or are you going to talk to me? I promise, I can carry on an intelligent conversation.”

The entire family turned toward Sara, but she kept her eyes focused on Osamu’s face. He was staring at her, his violet eyes wide momentarily, before narrowing again. Osamu lowered his gaze and shrugged casually.

“You have no idea how to use chopsticks, do you.” It wasn’t a question. “We have silverware in that drawer. Feel free to use them.”

Sara glared at him. “Don’t change the subject! What is your problem with me? I’ve only known you two weeks!”

“Three.”

“Whatever!” She took a moment to take in the fact Osamu’s family was looking at her as if she were form outer space. At this point, Sara didn’t care. She wanted to know why this boy hated her so much. “The point is, you don’t even know me. You don’t know me enough to judge me.”

“I assum--”

“Exactly. You assumed. You didn’t know. I hate to break this to you -- you are not a god. That must be difficult to accept, I realize.”

Osamu’s father broke in, looking between his son and Sara. “Is there a problem I should be aware of?”

Neither spoke, as if waiting for the other to speak up. When no one did, his father stepped in once again. He spoke quietly to his son, but his words, although in Japanese, had a clear meaning. Straighten up, or you will be in trouble.

Osamu nodded, focusing his eyes on his plate.

By bedtime, Sara was stressed beyond belief. While the rest of the Ichijouji family seemed kind (and could communicate English very well), Osamu’s coldness was bugging her. She had tried starting conversations with him, only to have him ignore her, or short replies. By nine, she gave up all hope.

Not long after, everyone turned in. The quietness of the apartment gave Sara time to think over her battle plans. She refused to spend the rest of the week being ignored by Osamu. Sighing, Sara closed her eyes, determined tomorrow was going to be a better start.

It was then she heard noises coming from the kitchen. Raising up slightly, she could see a body moving around, and a few moments later, someone emerged. She quickly laid back down, but the damage was done.

“Do you always spy on people when they think you are asleep?”

Her cover blown, she turned over to see Osamu staring down at her, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

“No,” she said, quietly. “I heard noises and was curious.”

“Mm.”

He settled himself at the foot of the sofa bed, staring at his food before offering a piece to her. Sara took it, seeing it was a piece of chocolate.

“It isn’t poisoned, is it?”

“Why would I waste time poisoning you.”

“You hate me?”

He shrugged. “Hate is an overused statement.” He took a bite. “Tell me about yourself.”

This was not real. Earlier today, he could not stand the sight of her. Now, he was wanting information about her. Something was up, and it made Sara cautious.

“I grew up in Oklahoma. It’s not that big of a state, really. You know, right above --”

“Texas. It became a state in 1907 and was the home of the famous cowboy/Indian Will Rogers. Hence the name of your airport.” Osamu ignored the amazed look she gave him. “I had to study the states once. That wasn’t what I was asking. I don’t want to know about your home. I want to know about you.”

She blinked, and tried again. “I like music. I love to sing. I’ve been told I have a good voice - I think I stink. I love to read. Literature and history are my favorite subjects. I have one sister. Most people honestly find me boring.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Never had one.”

His shot her a disbelieving look. “Never? You are how old?”

“Seventeen. I haven’t had the time.”

Osamu’s look now clearly stated “Loser”. “Would you like to know about me?”

“Sure.”

Osamu grinned. “As you obviously know, I’m famous. I don’t trust people, especially not females. I have been backstabbed more times than I can count Most people try to use me for my money.”

“Exactly how much do you have?”

“Enough. That’s all you need to know.”

Sara nodded, lacking something better to say. Stealing a quick look at the clock, she was surprised to find it almost two in the morning. “Aren’t you tired?”

“Aren’t you?”

“That wasn’t my question. I’m not used to the time difference. Even after three weeks. What is your excuse?”

Osamu shrugged. “Teachers giving me a crap-load of homework ever night.” He nodded toward her. “You look uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine.”

He shrugged again. Sara had the impression he did that a lot. “Suit yourself. I wanted to ask you something. A favor of sorts.”

So she had been right. He hadn’t been buddying up to her to be friendly -- He wanted something out of her. “What?”

“One of my friends is throwing a party a few hours away. I am invited. I wanted to know if you would go with me.”

“For what purpose?”

Violet eyes rolled. “To stand there and look stupid. I thought you might have fun. Of course, I’d either have to remind them to speak English, or translate for you the entire time.. . It could be fun though. There is another thing as well. . “

Sara grinned. “Ah-ha! I knew it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I tend to get hit on. A lot. Usually by wasted girls who want nothing more than to have my baby so they can inherit my fortune. When I die, that is. You’d be my alibi.”

“Let me get this straight,” Sara said slowly. “You want me to go to a party with you. . .as your girlfriend, so you won’t be hit on by drunk girls?”

“That’s it. Will you come?”

She blinked. “You hate me.”

“Hate is an overused statement.”

“Will you stop saying ---”

A hand was thrown over her mouth before she could get any further. Osamu brought his mouth to her ear, whispering hotly.

“It is after two in the morning. My parents are asleep, along with my baby brother. Would you mind keeping your voice down?” She nodded and he let her go. “You aren’t exactly my favorite person,” Osamu agreed. “But I think we might be able to use that to our advantage. Are you in or not?”

Every bit of common sense was screaming at Sara to say not. Screaming at her to be sensible and tell him exactly where he needed to go. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. A party could be fun. Still, he was using her. If that wasn’t the largest warning flare, Sara wasn’t sure what was.

So Sara was every so slightly surprised when she opened her mouth with every intention of tell him off . . Only to find it said “Sure. Sounds like fun.”


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Author's Note: I plan to have a chapter for this up at least once a week. I'll try for every Monday, but finals for college are quickly approaching. Right now, we are roughly looking around twenty chapters for this story. . possibly more. If the chapters become obsessivly long (Shocking for me, I know, but you might be surprised with this one), I'll split them into two.
Reviews are appreciated, even if they are bad.