A/N - 3.19.11 - Did a few revisions to the original. Added a section, changed the timeline a bit, adjusted the flow (now has 2 chapters), and added an omake (see chapter 3) at the end. Hopefully didn't destroy the story in the process...

3.25.11 - More revisions and a bit of a tune up. And a big "THANKS" to MadHattess for betaing this fic!

MaiHime characters belong to Sunrise.

(Mid-July, Second Year; Afternoon)

It was just another hot, humid day – not at all unusual for a summer day in Fuuka. And as usual, students and teachers alike suffered and endured, praying that some divinity would take pity on them, and send a cooling breeze towards them from the sea. Sadly, the local gods did not seem to be listening, leaving them all to languish in the sweltering heat.

Even in this heat, students still had classes, one of them being the fine tradition of physical education. Still, not even the most insane teacher (a certain red-head with a passion for Japanese folklore, history, and too many corny hero-type anime) would think of pushing students strenuously in THIS heat. And so, after a few minutes of unmotivated calisthenics, the listless teens were mostly left to their own devices. So long as they didn't wander off the field, they could do whatever they wanted. Most were taking it easy in the shade, wherever they could find it.

A few, however, were walking the school track, chatting amicably.

"I swear, Mai – I'm NOT going to take that make-up test if Midori is involved. Remember last time? She made us make cakes, for fu… OUCH! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" Scowling in annoyance, the second year rubbed her forehead.

"Language, Natsuki," her friend scolded. "You know it's a part of the school curriculum, so what choice do you have? You know as well as I do that you can't afford to skip any more tests."

"Yeah, yeah," the former truancy-queen acknowledged grudgingly. "But seriously, cooking? What's the point? It's not gonna help me get into a good university or anything, so what's the big deal?"

"Well, you know, they probably just want us to be all well-rounded, and learn some practical skills as well as academic ones. As in, 'be able to boil water without burning the pot and setting the kitchen on fire' kind of thing?"

"Hey, it was only once! And it was instant ramen! Besides, if they want to teach me something practical for my every-day life, why don't they have a class on motorcycle repair?"

Mai's laughter rang brightly throughout the yard. Natsuki found herself hard-pressed to keep a straight face. Spring vacation had long since come and gone, and somehow she had managed to reform enough to keep Sakomizu and the school administration satisfied with her improved grades and attendance. 'Of course, my grades wouldn't be so good if Shizuru weren't helping me with my studies from time to time,' she admitted silently.

"You still can't skip, Natsuki. You promised Shizuru-san you'd stop ditching classes," Mai reminded smugly.

"Heh, cooking doesn't count as a REAL class," she scoffed. "I don't think she'd really…"

A sudden scream cut through her unfinished sentence. The pair exchanged a quick glance before running towards the source of the sound. They approached the corner of the main building quickly, almost running headlong into a small group of panicked girls.

"What happened? What's wrong?" Mai asked them, immediately trying to calm everyone down. A few of the girls screamed and pointed ahead.

"Mai, take care of them," Natsuki told the other girl shortly, taking off again. 'I'm no good with that kind of thing anyway. Damn, wish I still had my Elements' With that last thought, she rounded the corner at top speed, and managed to narrowly avoid slipping on a patch of wet concrete, before she slid to a sudden stop, fists clenched and ready for trouble.

Only to be stunned as a wall of water descended upon her.

"Woah, check it out, guys!" came an excited male voice from above.

For a moment, she simply stood in utter shock, dripping. Slowly, haltingly, her eyes were drawn down towards her now drenched white tee-shirt, and saw what the boys were yammering about – her black sports bra was clearly visible for all the world to see. The tough biker shrieked girlishly, her hands shooting up to cover herself, her face beet red from embarrassment. 'Oh God, why me?'

"Hahah! Geez Kuga, you're such a girl!" mocked that first voice again. A chorus of laughter sounded.

Natsuki instantly snapped out of shock, and humiliation transformed immediately into rage. She glared up to the trio of boys, hanging out the second story window. One of them was holding an empty bucket, whistling. Instantly, she was on her feet and racing for the door. She flew up the stairs, ignoring the startled students she almost trampled in the hallway, and flung open the classroom door.

For one quick moment, the boys saw a vision of green-eyed beauty, framed in the doorway. Then the pain started.

With a snarl, the biker moved like lightning, striking one laughing boy across the face with an elbow and sending him flying. Two steps to the right, a quick twist, a jerk of the knee, and another boy rolled on the ground, clutching at himself and gasping. Grab, two quick jabs, and the third boy was thrown against the chalkboard. Seething, Natsuki went back and grabbed the first boy by the collar, hauling him to his feet.

"Woah woah woah! C…calm down, Kuga!" the boy stuttered, blood dripping from a broken nose. "I…it was just a joke!"

Green eyes smoldered. "Ah, a joke, huh?"

"Y…yeah. Just a joke!"

She pinned him against a wall. "Yeah, see me laughing, shithead?" she growled, her grip on his shirt tightening. "Maybe it'll be funny to hang you and your buddies out the window, stripped down to your shorts, huh? Think it would be funny? I do. Wanna try it, asshole?"

"KUGA-SAN! Please release that student THIS INSTANT!"

Natsuki winced. 'Oh crap, it's Fumi. I'm so screwed.'

(Late August, Second Year: 9:21 am)

She caught herself glancing at the clock again, and growled quietly under her breath. When a few nearby students edged away from her nervously, she realized it wasn't quietly enough. Resisting the urge to curse, she bit back another low-voiced growl of frustration. Despite her attempt to keep her growing irritation to herself, the muffled noise was enough to drive at least one timid student to quickly leave for another table. Several more vacated the table soon after, when a certain black-haired student's forehead hit the table with a loud thud.

'Gah! Smart move, Natsuki,' she chided herself silently, finding little relief in the momentary sting of self-inflicted pain. 'Scaring students out of the library will REALLY help convince that stupid shrink that you DON'T have anger management issues.'

Before she could scare off more deer-eyed students with her antics, she opted for a strategic retreat. Closing the book she'd been half-heartedly studying from, she shoved it and her notebook into her messenger bag. Leaving the cool, temperature-controlled library for the hot, humid outdoors wasn't exactly a great idea, but anything was preferable to making a scene in public. Again.

'But dammit, that wasn't my fault anyway!'

She'd been sent to a psychologist, who had asked her a series of extremely uncomfortable and probing questions. The interview had left the biker red-faced and shouting, which in turn led the doctor to conclude that Natsuki was suffering from deep-seated trauma, probably stemming from the tragic and violent death of her mother and subsequent abandonment by her father. He'd suggested she be enrolled in therapy to help her deal with those issues, before she began developing any more psychological disorders.

'Telling the doc to go fuck himself at that point probably didn't help my cause any…'

At the meeting with Fuuka's principal, it had taken Yukino, Sakomizu, Sister Yukariko, Midori, and even a certain former Student Council President to smooth things over after that. In the end, they reached a compromise. As long as Natsuki attended classes regularly, kept her grades up, stayed out of trouble, and got some counseling for her anger management issues, Fumi would keep the school psychologist at bay.

Although Natsuki still didn't know how much actual "help" Midori had been. Really – a speech about "justice" and "the follies of Youth" and the "maintaining of solidarity of the HiME rangers" ? She may have actually done more damage than good. 'Thank God Shizuru was there.'

Shizuru…

She brushed aside the returning wave of irritation and pulled out her phone to send a quick text message to said college student. "Going home. Library too noisy. Text when you're done over there."

Once sent, she continued on her way to the woods, where her bike waited to take her back home. Just as she was stowing her bag and reaching for her riding suit, the phone beeped. She flipped the phone open again.

"Drive safe, Natsuki. Don't forget your 11:00 appt. Check behind bushes for peeping Takedas."

Natsuki rolled her eyes as she sent a reply. "Idiot. See you later."

(Late August, Same Day, Second Year; 12:30pm)

"A guitar?" the driver asked, glancing quickly to catch her companion's expression.

"Yeah. And lessons, maybe," Natsuki affirmed, then broke off to add a quick warning. "Hey, keep your eyes on the road!"

"We're at a red light, Natsuki," Shizuru countered calmly.

"No, it WAS red. Now it's green," the biker retorted. "Drive already."

"Ara, Natsuki is quite the back-seat driver. How troublesome."

"I'm not in the back-seat. So there," she stuck out her tongue childishly. "Besides, YOU just got your license all of a month ago. I've been driving these streets for years…"

"Illegally," the college student pointed out.

"Well, yeah…"

"On a modified not-quite-street-legal motorcycle, wasn't it?"

"Shizuru, that's not the poi…"

"And quite recklessly too, as I recall…"

"Oh shut it," she grumbled, feigning exasperation. She steadfastly ignored the amused giggling coming from the other woman. Some things never change.

"So, why the sudden interest in music?"

"Eh, Kimura's idea," Natsuki shrugged uncomfortably, naming the therapist she'd been assigned to visit twice a week. "Something about an easier way for me to deal with emotional stuff."

Dr. Kimura had noticed early on that Natsuki wasn't exactly good with the whole "let's talk and share all our fluffy feelings and be happy friends" kind of thing. In order to avoid enduring hours of stuttering attempts to talk, awkward silences, and possible bursts of frustrated rage (the type to result in broken furniture and complicated explanations to police officers), they had been seeking some way to get past that barrier. On a hunch, she'd suggested music – it seemed to be their best bet.

"Your mom was like that too, a long time ago," the therapist had admitted, with a slight smile. "Not the greatest at expressing her emotions, but put her in front a piano, and – bam – there was all this power, flooding out."

She'd caught the curious look in green eyes, and chuckled. "Oh yes, I knew your mother. Back in high school. Shy little Saeko, always had her nose in a book. You resemble her a bit, in some ways. Now, what instrument do you want to try out first?"

Natsuki shook the memory off. "So, anyway, do you know where I can get one?"

Shizuru paused for a moment as if in thought, discreetly admiring the slight blush on her friend's face. "Well, there is the music store in the shopping mall," she noted, then added teasingly, "Natsuki probably has never noticed it, as it is not near the game store or the lingerie shop."

"Yeah, yeah, shut up," Natsuki sighed. "I wonder how much it'll cost…"

"We can go take a look now, if you'd like," Shizuru replied. "In fact, I insist."

"Huh? Wait…"

But Shizuru had already turned the car around, and was headed back towards the shopping mall. "Consider it a late birthday present," she told the biker happily.

"Um, Shizuru, you already got me a birthday present. Two weeks ago. One present per birthday is the general rule, you know."

"Then consider it a commemorative gift," came the cheerful reply.

"For what?" Natsuki asked. Then panicked, the realization coming too late. 'Oh no, there's that look, I know that gleam in her eyes…'

"How about a belated 'congratulations on successfully not being held back a year due to excessive truancies' gift? Or maybe a 'token of appreciation for not hitting a pompous psychologist in the face and getting charged for assault' gift?"

Natsuki groaned.

"Well, had Harada-san been present to take pictures of your latest incident, it could have been a 'thank you for showing off your athletic figure and tasteful underwear' gift, but unfortunately…"

"SHIZURU!"