"Grab her!" someone yelled but the tiny girl slipped into the crowd of tourists and vanished.        The two police officers stopped in disgust.  They had been sent out specifically for that kid and after three days, they still hadn't laid a finger on her.

            "How can a five year old run like that?" one said to the other.

            His partner shrugged “She's got home field advantage."

            "That what we are gonna put on the report?" The first said sarcastically.

            The girl watched them from only five feet away.  She had slipped under the vegetable stand after disappearing into the crowd.  As the two cops strolled off she plucked carrots through the opening at the bottom of the box she was using for cover.  Tucking four into her tunic, she worked out a pair of big potatoes and stuffed them into her pants.  With the shopping done, she once again vanished into the crowd and arrived at her destination two minutes later.

            Her mother lay on a pile of carefully folded rags the girl had spent days culling from the garbage.  Unpacking her groceries, she stroked her mother's forehead then turned to the pot of water she'd hauled earlier.  Deftly she pumped up the tiny propane camp stove and lit it with a Bic lighter she'd lifted off a tourist when her old one had given out.  Placing the pot on the wire rack, she dropped the vegetables into the water then stirred it with a finger.   

            Her mother didn't talk anymore and it was getting harder to get her to drink the soup.  She was a resourceful child but sometime, resourcefulness wasn't enough.

            Gentle hands lifted her from her place of vigil beside the pallet and held her as her tears flowed.  Soft, gruff words she could not understand soothed her sobs and when she woke, the sun illuminated a small, very clean, room with simple furnishings.  She sat up and looked around the room.  She was lying in a narrow bed with a soft, soft mattress that molded to her body and a thick blanket covered her to the waist.  She fingered the cloth then sniffed it.  It smelled of flowers.   There was a single window beside the head of the bed with a pressboard desk and plastic chair with five wheels.  On the opposite wall from the bed was a simple five drawer dresser with a mirror hung above it.

            There was a knock on the door and she looked around in a panic.  Bolting from the bed she threw open the window and looked down into the teaming street below, four stories below.  As the door began to open she turned to face it, back pressed to the desk.  As she drew in a breath to scream, she stopped.

            A wizen old man stood before her with a steaming bowl and chopsticks.  He came toward her and set the bowl on the desk.  She backed around him, keeping a meter between them until her back as to the door.  She started to break for the street but the man spoke and pulled out the chair for her.  It was Chinese, she knew, but she could only speak Japanese.  He gestured to the bowl then carefully walked around the edge of the room toward the door.

            It was the aroma of chicken that did it.  She stomach growled and she covered it with both hands.  The man grinned and made a shooing gesture toward the bowl.  Displaying the speed that had so frustrated the cops, she was at the bowl and gulping it down before the old man had turned away.  He disappeared from view but left the door open.

            Only three times in the next ten years did the girl, Fuji, come close to being nabbed by the cops. Each time her knowledge of the warrens that made up San Francisco's Chinatown allowed her to slip her pursuers and return to Papa Tonks.  Each time, with heart pounding, she found her foster father waiting for her with a long lecture in Cantonese that though she'd tried hard not to learn, she understood completely.  The last time, the men in black had been waiting for her.

            The car turned right onto a ramp that led to the basement parking garage.  It rolled to a stop with the passenger door bracketed by two athletic looking men in black suits and sunglasses.  Fuji pulled out her ear buds as one stepped forward to open the car’s door for her.  It had been a long drive down from San Francisco and her MP3 player was in serious need of a recharge anyway.  As she climbed out the second keyed open an elevator and gestured for her to enter.  The doors whispered closed and she felt her weight increase as the car rose.

            Glancing around the elevator car she noted the absence of controls or floor indicator and for a moment she felt trapped.  Before the feeling could overwhelm her the car stopped.  The doors opened onto a large conference room with windows ahead and to the right.  A set of mahogany double doors were centered to the left flanked by an array of enlarged photographs pinned to the cork covered wall.  Fuji was prominently featured in about a quarter of them.

            A long the street-side of the build were two utilitarian looking couches separated by a faux-wood end table covered in magazines.  In the center of the room was a conference table with five matching chairs, two to either side with the remaining one at the head.  Already seated were two people about her own age and just as prominently featured in the photos on the wall.

            The boy rose as Fuji stepped into the room and smiled at her.  He was huge, the largest person she’d ever seen, with short white blonde hair and a deep tan.   Dressed in jeans and a white cotton shirt with sandals he looked like he belonged on a beach rather than an executive board room.

            “Hello,” he said in a surprisingly quiet voice.  “I am Nat Ryan and this is Wren Collins.

            His glance down at his companion shifted Fuji’s gaze to the other ‘guest’ of the government.  Wren Collins sat posed in the chair as if she were a queen viewing her court.  Though she did not stand, Fuji guessed correctly that she was tall, at least nine inches taller than her own  diminutive 5’2”.  She was wearing a knee length white cotton skirt of the same material as Nat’s shirt and a lilac camisole with sandals.  Her hair was black and curly falling well below her shoulders and rich brown eyes regarded Fuji indifferently.

            Fuji instinctively bowed to both then caught herself and stood tall.

            "Yamakaze," she whispered to the tall boy then she realized, she had told him her real name.  "Call me Fuji."  She added.

            The girl leaned forward slightly in her own bow.  She studied Fuji for a moment then observed "Mountain wind."

            Fuji's eye widened.  Did she speak Japanese?  The girl, Wren, half closed her eyes and gave her a small nod.  Wow, thought Fuji then looked from one to the other.  Even with her very limited experience with boys, she could see the way Nat looked at Wren and though Wren seemed aloof, Fuji caught a flash of something when the other girl looked at the young giant.  Both regarded her at the same time and she started to feel a little uncomfortable but when Nat smiled at her she could see this was a boy without an ounce of guile.

            "Care to have lunch with us after this is all done?" the tall boy asked.

            Fuji was stunned.  The question had come from nowhere and she had to think a second to allow it to sink in.  Blue hair bobbed as she gave them a quick nod and a small "Sure."

            She moved forward walking slowly down the wall of photos.  The ones of her looked to be little more than candid shots of her as she moved about China Town.  The pictures of the other two, however, show something entirely different.

            The girl, Wren, stood on the deck of a ship dressed in an elegant evening gown, her arms raised slightly from her sides, palms up.  It had been taken at some distance and gave a panoramic view of what was happening.  The ship beneath her was suspended above a river as torrents for water gushed out of a gash in the hull.  Another photo showed Nat, in a tux, with a thick rope over his shoulder, pulling.  A wider shot revealed the rope tied off to the bow of the ship that hovered half way over the streets railing at the river’s edge.

            Fuji glanced at her silent companions then back to the photos.  Next in the series was Nat with both hands pressed against the bow of the ship as his feet ripped up cobblestones in an effort to stop the vessel’s forward momentum.   This was followed by an aerial shot showed the huge ship upright in the middle of a street.   The final shot was a close-up of the two just as they kissed.

            The doors of the elevator opened and a boy their age came in like he owned the place.  Dressed in jeans and a dirty tee shirt he had an artist pad tucked under one arm and unlike Fuji, he didn’t bothered to remove his headphones.  Barely glancing at the photos he dropped onto one of the two couches and put his feet up.  He raised a hand to them in greetings then opened the pad and took out the stub of a pencil.

            “I’m Josh!” he said.

            The tall boy again responded with names.  “I’m Nat and this is Wren.”

            “Fuji,” Fuji said remembering not to bow.

            “Got any ide . . . HEY!”  he came to his feet and moved to Fuji’s side.  “How’d you get pictures of me?”

            The main conference room doors slammed open and five MIBs came in, one with a stack of folders under his arm.  That one headed straight for the head of the table while the other four took up positions, two on either side of the doors and two flanking the elevator.  Fuji’s heart started to pound.  They were cutting off her escape.

            “Sit down, Miss Yamakaze,” the man commanded.  “You too Mr. Temple.”

            He dropped the folders onto the table with slap and settled into his chair.  He opened the top folder and didn’t look up again until Fuji and Josh had taken a seat.

            “You are the newest members of a very special school,” the man said.

            “Really,” the boy, Josh, jeered.  “Why is it ‘special’?  He was slouched down in the chair working on his art tablet.

            Fuji fidgeted nervously as felt the table beneath her hand quiver and raise a fraction of an inch.  She looked across it at the girl Wren.  Her hair was standing out as if she were electrically charged.

            “Because it is a school for people like you,” the man said making no effort to hide the contempt in his voice.  “People with ‘powers’.”

            Wren’s boy-friend whispered out of the corner of his mouth, “Here we go again.”

            The other girl’s expression changed from intense concentration to a look of weary resignation.

            "Why do I have a suspicion that this is going to go no better than the last time?" she said.

            Beside her the volume of the music Josh was listening to suddenly rose and he bobbed his head in time to the beat, hand dancing across the paper.

            “Last time?” Fuji said sotto voce.  “What do you mean last time?”

            Nat shrugged, “We’ve been ‘schooled’ before.”

            Fuji turned to the man.

            “So you brought us here just for that?” she didn’t bother to hide the skepticism in her voice.  “What’s the catch?”

            Josh opened his mouth and burped then turned the art pad around just enough to the other three to see.  It was a caricature of the man at the head of the table holding a huge rifle and screaming ‘Mutants are the weapons of tomorrow!’.  Nat and Wren gave him matching half smiles.

            “The Government will require some services from you, but not until you are trained and a little older,” the man said.

“What are these services?” Fuji asked.

“Like killing the President,” Wren said, smiling brightly, obviously relishing the thought.

Josh yanked off his headphones and gave a snort of disgust.

“You are SOOOO blood thirsty,” Nat said to Wren with a grin.

She looked at him non-plussed.  “Only for Mr. Miller’s.”  She indicated the man at the head of the table with a look of pure loathing.

“It really doesn’t matter what you want,” Miller said with a smug smile.  “Since none of you really have an option.”

Wren gave him the coldest look Fuji had ever seen.

“Oh, I think it matters,” she said and Fuji shivered brittle tone.  “And, I think we have a choice but I think you don’t want us to know about it.”

“So when do you send us to boot camp?” Josh asked, tossing his MP3 player onto the table followed by the art pad.  It landed drawing up giving Miller a look at Josh’s work.  He didn’t react.

Fuji pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees.  She did not like the way things were going at all.

Miller didn’t even bother to look at them.

“No, this is as ‘normal’ a high school as we can make it,” he said.  “There will be normal students . . . “

Nearly everything in the room was suddenly floating a couple of millimeters off the floor including the four men at the doors.  Wren shook her head at Nat’s touch and everything settled back into place.  Inwardly Fuji sighed in relief.

“So you are breeding super weapons,” Josh sneered.  “Expendable teens.”

“You will not be allowed to display your powers outside of your wing of the school.”

“Says who?” Josh demanded and leaned forward in the chair.  Miller ignored him and made a show of scanning a page.

“Those in your wing will be just like you,” he said.  “Paranormals.”

“Oh!  We have an official government sanctioned classification now!” Josh sneered.  “Paranormals!”  He chuckled.

“Or mutants,” Nat added.

“Or hey, freaks!” said Wren.  “Which is why we aren’t allowed to use our powers outside of school.”

“This rule is for your own protection,” Miller said, making a note.

Wren gave a derisive snort.

“Like you protected Wren and my parents?”  Nat’s voice was quiet but Fuji could see a rage in him that he was just barely keeping in check.

Wren’s face paled and Nat covered her hand with his only to have her draw it slowly away.

Josh bounced up and raised his arms like a prophet or sideshow barker.  "Come see the paranormals! 5 cents a ticket!  See the amazing girl that can think of your name, your social security number, your bank account number!"

“So what you are saying is that we are prisoners!"” Fuji was almost in a panic.  She’d never been anything but free to come and go as she chose.

“No, you may come and go as you please,” Miller said then paused and added.  “With permission, of course.”

Josh dropped his arms, all humor gone from his body language.

“You mean you want to control us,” Josh growled.  “You don't know how to deal with us . . . paranormals, you and the United States of Amer-cuh, want to hold us until you can have more confidence about this ‘issue’?"

“So we have to ask to leave school?” Nat was scowling

“The government knows what is best for you,” Miller said in a patronizing tone.  “And as I said, you have little choice in the matter.”  At last he looked up at them, his eyes filled with a malicious glee.

“The GOVERNMENT can kiss my freckled white ASS!” Josh snarled and dropped into the chair, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I think Josh as just become my new favorite,” Wren said.

“Mr. Temple,” Miller said smoothly.  “You COULD just go and serve your term . . .“  The threat was obvious in his tone.

“Well, you're going to imprison me here for being a mutant and speaking out for my rights,” Josh spat.  “Slap the cuffs on me then, let's go off to Concentration Camp Land!”  He held out his hands, the wrists touching, to Miller.

“And Miss Yamakaze,” Miller ignored Josh again.  “How do you think your ‘parents’ would enjoy a one way trip to China?” 

His words made her flinch.  Papa in China?  She shivered.

            “What? If you do . . .” she stammered.  “No you can't . . .“  She fought to hold back the tears.

Miller looked over at Wren.

“How long do you think your inheritance will be tied up in probate?”  He said.  “How long can you live without money?”

“I do hope you're not threatening me, Mr. Miller,” Wren Collins said coldly.  “You must remember that we mutants are rather . . . dangerous if you will.”  Again things began to lift from the floor.

“While you can point a gun and drive a tank,” Josh growled.  “Some of us can fire out lightning, or throw you around the room without even laying a hand on you.”

“And we are taping everything you say and do at this moment,” Miller continued.  “As you Mr. Ryan . . .”

Nat held up a hand, stopping the man.

“What are you going to threaten me with?” he said.  “Taking away my surf board?”

“I was thinking the DEA might visit a few of your friends.” Miller replied.

“I know why you're sending us to this school,” Josh said.  “You're afraid, Miller.”

“I am just doing my job,” he replied.  “I didn't ask for it.”

“Answer me something, then,” Josh leaned forward.  “When you look at us, what do you see?”

Miller actually took a moment to look at each of them.

“C'mon, I'm sure it can't be that hard to say Mutants,” Josh pushed.  “Or Paranormals.”  He sighed.  “Only in the great United States of American can we be treated like Jews in the Holocaust you and the rest of your kind just want control of a weapon.  Well, this weapon walks, talks, thinks, feels, breathes, bleeds, and feels pain like any other goddamned human on this planet.”

“Human?” Miller scoffed.

“Yes, Human,” Josh sounded tired.  “Two legs, two arms, two eyes, faintly symmetrical on both sides, a human.  Or don’t YOU consider us human, Miller?”

“That classification may change,” Miller said then his voice strengthened.  “I see too much power in the hands of people that have no idea what to do with it.”

Josh pounded his fist on the table, “Do YOU have an idea of what we should do with our power?”

"We may be able to make us go to your school and hold us against our will, but you can't make us use our abilities for your purposes,” Fuji said.

“No one is expecting you to use your powers,” Miller said then paused.  “Not for a few years, until after you have been trained, until you have control.”

Josh scoffed and shook his head.  “That’s bullshit!”

“Oh, I assure you, Miller.  I am quite capable of control,” Wren said, her jaw tight.

“So what are we training for?” Fuji asked.

“You need an education, just like a normal young person,” Miller said.

“NOW we’re normal,” Josh muttered still scowling at the man.

“Then you will move on to a college,” Miller continued.

“Mhm,” Wren hummed.  “I could do that without being used as one of your super killing machines, poppet.”  Fuji nodded in agreement.

“Then try to get into a good school,” Miller said.  He stood and crossed to the door to hold it open.  “Please.”

Wren’s left brow arched ever so slightly.  “I could have, before you decided on blackmail . . . naughty.”  There was venom in her voice.

“Think what you wish, Ms Collins,” Miller said.

“Oh I plan to.” Wren smiled coldly.

Fuji shrank back, “We CAN’T leave, you’ll hurt people.”

“No, I will do nothing,” Miller said, closing the door.  “It will be your action that hurts them.”

“This is ridiculous!” Fuji moaned.

“No, it is simple,” Miller said.  “Go to school.”

“We got that,” Wren said, picking up his Mont Blanc pen.  She looked for a moment as if she were going to throw it at him.  “Thanks.”  She tossed the pin back and Nat Ryan caught it.

“Can we just go and get this over with!"  Fuji came to her feet and jammed the ear buds back in place.

“Let me guess,” Wren sighed.  “I will be taking ‘Gun assembling and disassembling 101’ with a side of ‘Killing People With Your Bare Hands’, oui?”

The two men at the doors pulled them open.

“There is a limo waiting at the curb for you.” Miller said.

Wren swept out of the room. 

“Mm.  Lovely,” she sneered.  “At least you people travel well.  Don't tell me how many people you robbed to get the money.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Fuji almost had to trot to catch Wren.

Josh pushed past the two girls and reached the public elevators before them.  He pushed the call button and waited, scowling.

Nat considered the pen for a moment then with a flick of the waist spiked it into the table burying it flush with the wood.  As he went out he grabbed the doors catching the men off guard.  Both stumbled when it was torn from their hands.  People all over the building thought the city had been hit by an earthquake when Nat slammed the doors.

“Nathaniel, that was a lovely table that you just ruined,” Wren said when he reached them.  “I'm so proud.”  She smiled wryly at him.

The four rode down in silence but once they reached the street Fuji exploded.

“We can't let him control us . . . can we?" she said.

“No, I don't think so,” Nat said calmly.

“Let's just let him pretend for now, luv,” Wren said.

Nat cocked his head to her.  “Pretending is good.”

“What should we do?  Go to his stupid school then?" Fuji asked.

“I wonder if any other students are feeling railroaded like us?”  Nat said thoughtfully.

"Hmm" Fuji smiled. "Get more people on our side"

Wren brightened.  “Do I sense a rebellion?  Oh, I think I do.”

            Nat grinned.

            “Hope the prick is taping this too,” Wren muttered.

            “You think he is?” Nat glanced around the busy street.

            “He could be,” Fuji shrugged.

            There as a very unlady-like growl from Wren.  "Someone better be opening this door for me, because I'm not doing it, and neither are the other three ‘freaks’ out here with me!"

            “Freaks?  No sense in name calling,” Fuji said with a chuckle.

            The driver climbed casually out of the car and sauntered around to open the door for her.  As he held it open, his face a cool mask, Wren climbed in and gracefully sat on the far side of the limo looking for all-the-world like she belonged there.  There was a smirk in her slight smile.

            Fuji climbed in after and took her place next to Wren followed by Josh.   The three of them missed the devilish smile Nat gave the drive as he slipped a dollar bill into the surprise man’s hand before he join them taking a seat across from Wren on the rear facing seat.  Wren’s brown eyes danced with amusement as she gave Nat a warm smile.

“There had better at least be something to drink in this thing,” Fuji grumped looking as the miniature refrigerator at Nat’s elbow.

“You are taking this sooo hard, Fuji,” Nat said dryly.  “I like that.”

He pulled open the door and peered inside.

“Bottle water, Coke, Pepsi, orange juice,” he began.

“Pepsi, please,” Fuji took the offered can.

“Darn,” said Wren.  “They didn’t want to get the mutants tipsy.  I am almost disappointed.”

Nat held a bottle of water out to her.

“They threatened to send Papa Tonks back to China,” Fuji said with a catch in her voice.

For a moment Wren lost her air of indifference and sank back into the seat.

“They are not very nice people, no.”  She took the offered bottle and gave Nat a nod of thanks. 

“What do you think they’ll do,” Nat asked, twisting the top off a bottle of water.  “Bug the rooms?”  He looked around the sumptuous interior of the limo.  “Here too?”

“Probably,” Wren replied with a shrug.  “I would.”

Nat drained half the bottle before lowering it.

“And drug the water too?” he said with a grin.

“Why now if we are going along with them?” Fuji eyed the Pepsi suspiciously.

“That’s an amusing thought,” Wren replied taking a drink.

“To make us more pliable,” Nat suggested.

“Well.  If I wake up and I have been violated you will all know,” Wren warned.  “Mostly because there will be a whole lot of very broken things and people.”

Nat sipped his water then said “You won't have to worry about that.  Nothing they can give me will affect me in the least.  I'll make sure you are inviolate.”

“You're too kind,” Wren softened the sneer to something closer to mild sarcasm.

“That’s my job,” Nat said.

Nonchalantly he tucked the now empty bottle into the seat rather than using the obvious litter bag.

“So how long is this drive?” Fuji looked out the side window at the passing city.  They were close to the waterfront and she could see the ocean.  Nat shrugged as the car made a wide turn to the left.

“Can’t be long,” he commented.  “We are nearly to the Cabrillo Monument.”  He frowned.  “The only thing further out here is the old Navy sub base and Fort Rosecrans.” 

The limo rolled to a stop a few minutes later at a wrought iron gate set in a new looking stone wall.

“Unless it is no longer a Navy base,” Wren said.   “All that is missing is an organ playing dramatic music.”

Fuji had dropped to her knees and peered out the side window at the feet of the silently brooding Josh.  Her nose was practically pressed against the glass.

“This used to be just scrub forest, it’s part of the Fort,” Nat said with a touch of amazement.  “How did they change it so fast?”

An area on the ocean side of Fort Rosecrans had been leveled and a series of attractive stone buildings had been erected to replace the few ancient wooden structures left over from World War Two.  Vegetation hadn’t had time to grow back but by the looks of things in a few years the place would look like a back East ivy-covered college.  The car stopped in front of a building labeled Stan Lee High Administration Building. 

When the driver opened the door Fuji all but popped out like a coiled prank snake.  She bounced a little and looked back at the car.  Josh, still grumbling, climbed out and jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Nat unfolded and loomed over the driver for a second before the man backed away.  He turned to offer his hand to Wren.  She took it and exited the limo.

“HEY!” a chipper looking girl a couple years older than the group skipped down the few steps of the admin building.

“I’m Angie!  Mr. Williams sent me to show you to your rooms!”  She was a Southern California girl from the top of her waist length blonde hair to the tips of her toes.  Being dressed in a short white skirt, crisply ironed cotton button-downed shirt, white knee socks and tennis shoes made her already dark tan even darker.  When she stopped in front of Nat and let her bright blue eyes roam up his long frame, Fuji wanted to grab something anchored to the Earth.  She could see Wren had to fight not to snarl at the girl. 

Fuji decided to intervene and smiled politely holding out her hand.  “Thanks!” was all she got out before the girl turned on a toe and headed up the hill not bothering to look back to see if they were following.  Frowning, Fuji dropped her hand.

The building they approached looked a lot like some of the older public buildings in San Francisco Fuji had seen, granite with those things around the roof that looked like teeth.  It had a larger center section that was three floors high and two story wings to either side.  A dozen steps lead up to a set of glass double doors that Angie pushed open.

“This area is the common area,” she said.

The interior as a bit of a surprise, it was circular while the outside was obviously square.  Fuji noted a door in each of the ‘corners’ that was wide open.  Several students were in one watching TV.

“Those are the multi-media carols, one in each corner,” Angie went on, noting Fuji’s attention.  “They will seat six comfortably and are almost sound proof.”  She pointed at the two opposite the entrance.  “Those two are for Seniors only.” She informed them with a bit of smugness.  “Since you guys are just Junior AND Right Wingers, keep out.”

There were a dozen other students that paused in whatever they were doing to watch the newcomers.  Fuji sensed they were waiting for something and was not surprised when Angie tucked her right hand into her arm pit and flapped it like a bird.  Everyone immediately started whispering, several of the boys especially intent on the tall willowy Wren.

“Classrooms, the library, dining hall and kitchens are on the ground floor,” Angie explained. 

“How familiar,” Wren said dryly.

“Only this time I hope I don't keep ending back on the ground floor,” Nat whispered.

Fuji frowned, having no idea what they were talking about.  Even after only meeting them a couple hours ago, Fuji could almost see and invisible line of communications between the two.

“I have a feeling there is less with the crazy magic and more with the big guns of fun,” Wren whispered flatly.

Bouncing up a flight of stairs that curved to the right, Josh watching her short skirt, Angie stopped just and used a key to unlock a solid looking metal door that opened into a long, wide corridor carpeted with the most bland grey Fuji had ever seen.

“Big guns?” Angie said, cocking her head like a bird.

“Never mind,” Wren dismissed it with a wave to her hand.

Angie pushed open the first door down the hall and stepped into a basically furnished room.  “The floor is coed so no going to the showers naked and stuff.”

            “Darn,” Nat said.  “I’ll have to get a towel!”

            “Ruins all my fun,” Wren pouted then smiled at him.

            “Well . . . each room is private,” Angie went on.  “These rooms are all open so it's your choice.  Keys to the rooms are in the desk along with the key to the hall.”

            “We were told we have to check in and out from the campus,” Nat said.

            Angie shrugged, “Yes . . . but that isn't always enforced and someone's always sneaking off.”

            “Can we sneak off forever?" Fuji muttered.

            “Forever?” Angie frowned.  “Why would you want to do that?”

            “Never mind,” Fuji sighed.

            “Each room's got a computer,” Angie rested a hand on the brand new Dell centered on a desk.  “You log on using you name and SSI.”

            "So we get to pick our rooms?" Fuji considered the room.  There was the desk, fake wood, oak veneer, with a matching chair, a chest of drawers and a twin-size bed.  That was it.  She crossed to the window and pulled aside the room darkening curtains.  The view outside was marred by bars on the windows but gave her a spectacular view of the ocean.

            “Yes,” Angie nodded.  “The computer has your schedules . . . you start Monday.”

            “Yeah,” Fuji said morosely.  “I’ll take this one.”

            Josh opened the door across the hall and dropped into the desk chair, fingers flying across the computer’s keyboard.

            “How many . . . “ Nat began.  “of the students are like us?”

            “Right Wingers?”  Angie said.  She lifted her shoulders.  “You are the first.”

            Wren’s left eyebrow went up in surprise.  Fuji started in on the computer, calling up her schedule.

            “How many ‘other’ students are there?” Nat asked.

            “Left wingers?” Angie considered.  “Maybe two hundred.”

            Nat pushed open the next door up the hall.  “I guess this will do.”

            “I doubt they will have my shower,” Wren sighed.

            “We can always go to the cottage,” Nat suggested.

            “The showers are at the far end of the hall.  They’re also Coed and the sex schedule is posted.”

            Josh’s ears pricked up.

            “Girls from 5:30 am to 6:00 then Guys from 6:00 to 6:30,” Angie explained.  “The toilets are separate and NOT coed so girls don’t have to worry about the seat being up in the middle of the night.”

            She put a hand on a phone out in the corridor. 

            “Anything else you need, just use the house phone,” she said.  “And you can dial 9 to get an outside line.”  Angie stepped through the door into the central part of the building.  “See you later!”

            To Fuji, the door sounded like a jail cell closing.

            Heads turned as Fuji stepped into the class room.  Several sneered openly, more snickered behind their hands, two watched with unexpectedly calm attitudes.  She knew it wasn’t her diminutive 5’ or the trench coat it was the bright blue hair.  The Gameboy in her pocket beeped as she switched it off and took an open seat next to Nat.

To her, he was out of place as she.  He was hunched into the desk that was obviously far too small for him, one leg stretched out beneath the desk in front of him while the other was drawn up to clear the aisle.  She was nodded to him then to Wren as before turning her attention to the other two sitting nearby.

“Fuji-san,” Nat said.  “This is Alicia and Slater.  Why don’t you join us at lunch . . . that little hill with the single pine.”

            Nat carried the two bag lunches up onto the little rise and sat beside Wren under a windblown pine.  Fuji parked herself in the sun, facing them.  Wren selected the smaller of the two bags and unrolled the top to pull out an apple and a bottle of water. When Nat opened his and drew forth a tinfoil wrapped roll that looked like a whole chicken.  Fuji's eyes widened.  It was two of the thickest sub sandwiches she'd ever seen.  Lifting the top one he offer the second to Fuji.

            "Go ahead," he said when she shook her head.

            "You may as well," Wren added.  "Or he will pout the rest of the day."

            She tried to detect sarcasm in Wren's words but all she heard was a gentle teasing.  With a mental shrug, she took the sandwich then stared at it, trying to pick an angle of attack for the monster.

            "I find if you take it apart and eat it in pieces it works best,” Wren was watching her and Fuji twitched under the scrutiny.

            Nat didn't seem to have a problem with the thing and was already halfway through his.  Wren watched him for a moment then shook her head with a small smile before opening the bottle of water.  Fuji eyed Nat as he ate, her eyes following the contours of his chest and biceps.

            Wren handed her a napkin "Stop drooling."  She said and Fuji pulled her eyes from Nat's arm.

            "You guys are think Alicia and Slater are . . .” she began. 

            "FREAKS!"  The shout came from a circle of upper classmen on the other side of the quad.  All of their attention and now that of every other student was fixed on the two that approached the little rise and Fuji's group.

            The guy, Slater, was dressed like a rich kid, everything chic and in style and looking very expensive.  He had the body of an athlete and the smile of a movie star.  All-in-all, Fuji thought, he was a hunk.  The girl with him, Alicia, could not have been more of a contrast.  Tattoos, dumpy clothes, piercings in various obvious places, the dark makeup, frizzy hair, Granny glasses, not quite full Goth but closing in fast.

            Nat locked eyes with the prep guy and hissed what sounded like a command “Slater."

            The other boy suddenly shrugged and stepped up onto the wall then offered a hand to the girl.  Together they sank onto the grass forming a circle of five. 

“That’s a huge sandwich, Fuji,” Slater grinned.  “Eat all that and you might grow up.”

Alicia bumped her shoulder against him and he clutched his side as if wounded.   Fuji smiled.  She never expected to find herself surrounded by such a group.  Were these what friends were like?

            The group froze, staring at their friend. Of course it was Nat who spoke first.

            "Vampire,” he said, the tone not a question. "What can we do to help?"

            Fuji stared at Christiana.  How could her mother be a vampire?  She had thought they were just movie villains or something in an anime.  She shivered, imagining what a vampire like the ones in Blood + or Vampire Hunter D would be like to face.  She looked at Nat and saw only determination and slowly began to relax.  She had friends now, real friends and she'd do everything she could to help Christiana.

            "I want to help too," she added.