Another day, another test, and more people. Stress, put on me by my mother… Having to go to school to be annoyed by idiots. Family complaining of me being distant. Another day in the life of me.

Those were my thoughts, however shallow. Everyday, having to wake up like a zombie. Tired of moving through the routines. Sure, I had a good life. I couldn't complain. My family loved me, and I loved them. Nothing was wrong. Well, nothing in my life was truly wrong… Unless you counted the world falling apart in front of everyone's eyes wrong. If you do. Well… that's not the story I'm going to tell. Like a fool, even though I had everything, I had to wish for more. What can I say? I was human. Was is the keyword there.

I always wanted something different. Something with more adventure. Maybe superpowers? I didn't care. Fact was, nobody was like me. People do not want to be in my world. But I guess I was one of the so-called lucky ones. Or maybe it's the lucky one…? I don't know. But sometimes, I wish I had been content with the way I was…. No. That would've never happened.

Yep.

Life's a bitch.

But you already knew this.

Didn't you?

But I have to say…

Sometimes you have to love life…

This is my story.

There was something I was forgetting. I could feel it, and let me tell you, it sucked. It was like a giant itch I just couldn't scratch, and it made itself known almost every night. It was always there, always, and it had been like that since two weeks ago. I felt like I was going crazy, and I couldn't sleep without being plagued by strange half dreams. My mom told me that there was nothing that could be forgotten. So did my dad and my sister.

So what was I forgetting?

The need to scratch was building, and it was everywhere at once. I couldn't get rid of it. Then one morning, a brand new transfer student just waltzed into my life. Well, less waltz more saunter. Eh, same difference.

And here I thought my week couldn't get any crappier.

Problem? My locker was jammed and the bell was about to ring. I almost snarled, yes, snarled, at the navy blue painted thing, but stopped myself when I realized several people were staring at me. I gave the dratted device-storage unit a good kick before trying to do the combination again. The dial was difficult to turn, and it almost jumped to a wrong number on the third digit, but eventually, with a good amount of effort, I opened it.

It was then all of my books crashed to the floor.

"Goddamn it!" I whisper-screamed, unable to stop the curse. I bent down, grabbed my math binder and put it in my book bag, then grabbed the rest of my crap and shoved it in the locker. I slammed the door shut, realizing detachedly that it would probably be jammed again, and took off down the now-deserted hallway.

I barely made it to class in time.

I ignored the dirty looks my teacher sent me and sat down, taking out my binder that I had went through so much trouble to get so I could show her my completed assignment. The class went by smoothly as we learnt about graphing-something-or-other. Halfway through a knock sounded at the already-open door. My teacher looked up, eyes lighting as she saw someone she recognized in the doorway. I didn't bother to even see who it was, and instead continued to right down my formula on a sheet of paper.

3x-y=9, minus 3x

-y=9-3x, divide -1 from y

y=-9+3x, graph

Pretty simple stuff. Or something only a little bit harder, like-

3x+5y+2z=10

8x+2y-3z=-2

4x-2y-z=0

Find all three variables.

It was only when I realized that my teacher was addressing the class that I knew something was different. I looked up, ready to listen to some uninteresting announcement and was promptly mentally-bitched slapped.

My jaw dropped.

"Class, this is Toushirou Hitsugaya. He's a transfer student all the way from Japan. He's here to study English."

"Nice to meet you," the boy- Toushirou Hitsugaya- said in impeccable English. He looked bored, his eyebrows drooping and his hands thrust into his pockets. His gaze flickered to each face before returning to the teacher. I couldn't blame him for looking so expressionless, I would be bored if I was in his shoes too. Having to live in this town, this school...

Oh wait, I was. Never mind.

What surprised me were his looks. His skin was tan, super tan, as if he laid out in the sun all day. I was slightly envious of this, seeing as it was genetically impossible for me to tan.

But I digress.

His hair was pure white, like snow, and fluffed up in some weird style that he still managed to make look good. Maybe he had dyed it? Or bleached it? Or maybe he had some genetic defect like me?

Probably.

And his eyes were teal. Clean, brightly-colored teal. My favorite color. It just wasn't natural, but I couldn't say I was actually shocked by it. My own eyes were oddly-colored too.

The weirdest thing about the whole situation was that I felt like I knew him. Like knew him, knew him. Personally. Which wasn't possible because I was sure I had never met him before.

Oh wait, the teacher was speaking again.

"So please make him feel welcome, I'm sure he won't have a problem here," she concluded before ushering him forward to take a seat at the table behind me. I could almost feel his amazing eyes drilling into the back of my head before it left to stare at the board. There was a shuffle as he pulled out his books from his book bag, then silence.

I didn't dare turn around to look.

Class ended quickly, leaving me with just enough time to finish the homework the teacher had given us. I was about half-way through the worksheet when a tap on my shoulder made me pause in my mad pencil scribbling. I turned around slowly, expecting to see Matthew begging for help again. I froze as my gaze filled with teal. Crap. I had forgotten about the new guy.

"Yes?" I asked, oddly shaken. "Do you need something?"

Toushirou stared at me for a moment before asking, "What class do you have next?"

The question surprised me, and my brain went blank for a second before the wheels started turning again. "Um, History. Why?"

He didn't answer right away, and instead reached down to fumble in his book bag before pulling out a sheet a paper I recognized as a schedule. He looked at it for a moment, before blinking and returning his attention to me. "That's what I have."

I stared at him for a moment, wondering what he was getting at. Well, I wasn't exactly wandering. I knew what he was getting at. I probably should've just told him flat out that he could walk with me, but for some reason, I wanted to tease him. I wanted to make him angry, and I felt for certain that if I did, his reaction would be hilarious.

Toushirou stared at me as if I was stupid before sighing heavily. I could feel his impatience. He didn't want to ask, he felt like it was groveling. He hated groveling, or seeming inferior.

Wait, how did I know he hated how he felt inferior to most?

…What?

"Can you escort me to our next class? I don't want that guidance woman coming back."

I blinked, feeling oddly lost. The itch was back, and it was stronger than ever. I could feel something beneath the surface, something I knew I should remember. Was this what having Alzheimer's felt like? Or hitting your head and having long term memory loss? If that was so, I never wanted to lose my memory.

"Hey, are you okay? You're spacing out."

Toushirou's voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I nearly jumped. He didn't sound worried. Just aggravated.

"Sure, I'll take you to our next class," I mumbled. He nodded, then started writing down on a piece of paper in what looked suspiciously like kanji.

I wanted to ask him if I could look at it, but it seemed that he had already dismissed me or something. At least, that's what it felt like.

I sighed and turned back to my paper.

I finished by time the bell rang, and I packed up slowly, ignoring the looks my classmates gave me as they realized the new teal-eyed wonder was still in his seat.

Staring at me intently.

I could feel myself starting to bristle as I finally zipped my bag and straightened, hurling it onto my back. What was so interesting about the back of my head?

Sighing, I started towards the door, stopping only to look back and wait for my charge. He ignored my obvious annoyance and followed me out into the now over-flowing hallway. I weaved in and out of the crowd easily. As a newbie, Toushirou was probably going to have a hard time making it through so I slowed down slightly. Despite my disbelief, my subconscious wasn't really surprised when Toushirou fell into step with me, his eyes still conveying absolute boredom.

I could feel the stares as people took in the white-haired new kid, and I knew, without a doubt, that by the end of the day the girls were going to suck him dry.

Poor kid.

I could tell he was ignoring me. It was awkward walking and not talking, but then again, I was an awkward person.

That doesn't mean you can't start a conversation. My mind pointed out traitorously. I fought the urge to glower at nothing and look like an idiot.

It was right.

"So Japan, huh? What's it like being in school over there?"

"It's much harder than this." Was his short and clipped answer.

"Oh? Thanks for the update, Captain Obvious," I drawled, annoyed. Here I was, doing this asshole a favor, and he didn't even have the decency to keep the conversation going? Why wasn't I surprised?

… Why wasn't I?

"Did you bleach your hair?" I asked, trying again to break the silence even though I was sure he didn't.

"No."

I fought back the urge to smack him.

I delivered him to History without saying one more word. My History teacher cooed over him as I took my seat. Unsurprisingly, she sat him a seat back in the row beside me, all the while explaining to him that she was counting on him to be a good influence to our extremely annoying, dumber-than-fuck male population. I tried not to slam my head into the desk when he nodded, and the teacher grinned, eyes sparkling.

The next time I saw the white-haired, Japanese boy was Spanish- to my obvious surprise. Why would someone who spoke English and Japanese already need to learn Spanish? And why, being a new kid, was he in Spanish III with me?

Luckily, the teacher placed him on the opposite side of the classroom, where he continued to scrawl on paper that was not our assignment.

"Toe- shi-" the teacher called, tying (and failing) to pronounce his name correctly. "Tou-"

"Toushirou, ma'am," he interjected, for all the world a perfect student. "Do want something?"

The teacher swooned. I glared.

"Could you come up here to the front of class and introduce yourself?"

He nodded, standing slowly with his hands in his pockets. I tried to ignore the sighs from the female population. There were a few like me who were more wary of a pretty face and just examined him cautiously, but that was a definite minority. Even the male population was struck dumb.

"My name is Toushirou Hitsugaya," he said, voice level and eyes half-lidded in obvious boredom. "But in Japan that would actually be Hitsugaya Toushirou so please address me as 'Hitsugaya-taichou' or 'Hitsugaya-sama.' Or just Hitsugaya if you cannot pronounce that."

I made a choking sound at the -sama. Power hungry bastard. He better watch himself before he turns into Aizen.

My thoughts came to a screeching halt. Aizen? Who was Aizen?

"Honorifics?" the teacher questioned as several students who weren't too busy drooling of his perfectness shot each other glances.

"Yes."

Back to one worded answers, huh?

"Can you speak some Japanese for us? It would be a good example of the differences between Asian and Spanish languages."

Toushirou actually hesitated at that and I shrunk down into my seat. I didn't want to seem too interested.

"Hello, everyone," he finally said, using the honorific -chan to address us.

I scowled. I wasn't a little kid.

He look around the classroom, gaze passing over each face in the room as if trying to see if anyone understood. I dropped my eyes as it rested on my face. Then he continued. "I would say it was nice to meet you, but I don't actually know any of you. Shame." His voice contained heavy sarcasm as he stared me down.

I tried not to get angry at his rudeness. Just cause nobody, except, well, me, could understand him didn't mean he could be nasty.

Well, maybe it did.

"Thank you!" the teacher said before ushering him to sit back down.

"Yeah, thank you," I muttered in Japanese before I realized what I had said and immediately shut up. My past was a bit of a toss up- one I refused to let my close-minded class mates, and even my friends, know of.

I looked around quickly to make sure nobody had noticed before sighing in relief.

The bell for lunch rang only a few minutes later. I almost made out of the room before one of my best friends, Eileen, grabbed my arm, hauling me to her side. I tried not to show my annoyance as I turned as and asked her what she was doing as she practically jumped up and down in excitement.

"Did you see him? Oh my God, Jess. Did you see see him? That is the hottest man I have ever seen."

I tried not to roll my eyes as she dragged me out of the room and down the hall. "I'm sure you've seen better."

She glared at me. "How can you not be drooling? And have you seen better?"

I shrugged, no longer meeting her eyes. "Yeah."

"Where?"

I didn't want to answer, but I did anyway as she yanked on my arm. "T.V."

"Ha, exactly!"

Now I did roll my eyes. "Really, Eileens, is it that big of a deal? If you wanna spend time with him then you could always just walk with me to second. He made me escort him."

She gasped, drawing odd looks from a teacher standing in the doorway of the lunchroom. "You've spent time with him?"

When I nodded she grinned creepily. "As much as I like him- this could be your chance to finally get a man!"

"Yeah, ha, don't hold your breath," I deadpanned, slipping away from her hold to find a place in the lunch line. I was looking in between the two lines, wondering whether or not I should go for nastiness or nastiness when a tap on my shoulder made me turn. My eyes met teal.

It was a clashing of color.

"What do I do?" he asked, looking like he was trying not to snarl. After a moment it hit me that it was taking all of his self control to swallow his pride and ask me.

"Just… follow my lead," I replied before choosing the main line and morphing into the crowd. I grabbed a tray, sliding it to the first bit of food before I looked to see if Toushirou was following me. He slid beside me, staring at the food that looked like it would probably eat us instead.

I pointed at the chicken tenders. "This is fried chicken. Lunch food isn't too great but this is pretty safe." I choose two well-cooked pieces before moving on. "These are french fries. One of the things that makes up American culture," I motioned to the food. "It's just finally chopped and fried potatoes with salty. Very unhealthy." I snuck at glance at his chest, noting the well defined abs that showed through the shirt with no surprise. "But I'm sure you can afford to eat unhealthily."

As a matter of fact… I scooped out a handful. I could afford it too.

I pointed out the nastier vegetables and foods before grabbing a juice and typing in my pin number. I froze halfway through to turn and look at Toushirou. "Do you have a number?" I asked.

"Number?" he replied. It was enough.

"Money?" I tried again.

"No."

Grumbling, I sighed heavily. "I'm buying his, too," I told the lunch lady, wincing as she typed in the double amount.

I walked to my seat, and tried not to flinch as Eileen's eyes lit up at-

Not me.

I slid into my seat beside Tiffany. He sat right in front of me- beside Eileen- to her obvious delight, and began to immediately eat, ignoring us all. Eileen sent me many pointed looks as she questioned him, and like me, got only one worded answers. I copied him, digging into my food. Halfway through, there was a beep and he paused, hand dropping to pull out a flip phone.

My friends' eyes widened before they all made a leap for the phone. Using ninja-like reflexes, Toushirou maneuvered the phone back into his pocket and away from everyone else.

"Fool," I muttered. "You're not allowed to have your phone out in school. It'll be taken."

I had no other classes with Toushirou, and I was thankful when he never showed up in bus duty either. I had swim practice, but that was it. I was allowed to go over to my uncles afterwards to play Xbox- my secret love.

That night when I went to bed, I dreamt of a man with orange hair named Ichigo who was my age, and a Death God named Rukia.

"Give me the sword, Shinigami."

"It's not 'shinigami'. My name is Kuchiki Rukia."

"My name it Kurosaki Ichigo."

It was the most detailed dream I had ever had.

Fate's die had been cast.

Okay... so. Before you guys kill me in the most painful way possible- I'm sorry. Another thing, I haven't had this beta'd yet (sorry Melissa!) cause technically I'm sneaking (like a ninja) to do this cause I'm grounded. Tell me what you think. Please. Better? Worse? I don't know! THE OLD ONE WAS CRAP AND THIS ONE WON'T BE MUCH BETTER! T.T

It was nice talking to you guys... ummm... don't hate me? And I hope my writing style is a little bit better. DO YOU GUYS SEE HOW SHE KNOWS AIZEN? COOKIE FOR WHOEVER GUESSES THIS EARLY XDXDXDXD
Review!