Title: The Looking Glass

summary: It's never easy when you fall in love, but..you try your hardest to make it work.

notes: this is my first HET fic. lol. ^^ Student/Teacher

Chapter 1

Dear Lily

Okay, I figured it would be best to give this stupid journal a name. Mum always says that its best to do that so you feel as if your writing to a person. When your angry, you can get mad at Lily, Bob, or whatever name you personified your diary with. Mine's Lily because, thats my middle name (actually its Lillian but we won't bother with the details) and the flower's pretty. My entire name is Akemi Lillian Walker. I'm sixteen and am from London, England. My parents company transferred them to America; Virginia to be more precise. Its not too bad here but I've only been living here for a week. Its quite chilly and the weather's at least a plus from the constant rain I'm used to. There are some entertainment spots in the city; several clubs that let youths my age in, ice cream parlors, a few cafes, cineplexes, et cetera.

I'm supposed to be attending Brighton Highschool tomorrow morning, joy joy. Did you catch the sarcasm? From what my friends in London have told me, Americans aren't that polite to foriegners, at least in the rural sections. One look out of my window to see the rolling pastures and the silos is enough to let me know I am in rural America. I'm not the most friendly person. Alright, I'm not evil or a bully but I'm very shy. People intimidate me easily and now that I'm in unfamiliar territory, I'm going to be petrified. I hope that my first words tomorrow aren't a stuttering mess. That would be embarrassing. My parents enrolled me early this morning and I was indisposed at the time so I couldn't visit. My schedule consists of a couple classes that I know I'm going to whiz right through. Advanced Placement (whatever the hell that is) English 11, Advanced Placement United States History (as if I'm going to EVER use that! Once I graduate, I'm going home!), Chemistry (I admit, anything dealing with the maths, I'm completely retarded to), Geometry (see, didn't I tell you? In my junior year and taking Geometry! A scandal, I tell you!), French 2, Art Foundations 2, and Choir. I admit, I can't sing at all but Mum figured it would be best to get some practice in. I'm actually looking a little bit forward to tomorrow! Though, I have to be there at 7:35! What insanity have I been dumped into?!

Save ME!


~ ~

An obnoxious dinging trilled forth through the quaint and homely chamber. A pale hand krept from underneath a cocoon of downy blankets. The tapered digits wrapped threateningly around the Harry Potter alarm clock. With one heave, the red device with Tom Felton's handsome face plastered to the side was laying in shattered pieces against the closet door. One bleary lapis lazuli oculate peered lethargically from the comforter and a few seconds later, the eye was followed by its twin.

Shoving the blankets from her pajama clad body, Akemi glared in reproach at her destroyed nuisance. She was fond of that clock. Shuffling into her SpongeBob Squarepants slippers, she trekked across her expansive room on the third floor of her families mansion. She paused at the door, stretching her slender and petite body cat-like. She'd inherited her brains from her father and her mother's extra small frame; she was barely five feet tall. There was that fact that her mum was Japanese.

It wasn't all that evident in the girl's appearance save for the slight slanting of her sapphire orbs, the unblemished marble quality flesh, the perfectly straight ashen blonde hair that fell in waves of soft locks to the wings of her shoulderblades. Akemi padded to the staircase, descending it sleepily. It was still dark outside, dawn was approaching. The sun would pass its lover in a brief engagement of rays before the moon dropped below the mountain peaks on the horizon.

Akemi slumped onto one of the stools at the bar, resting her head in her hands. Apparently her parents, Kaoru and Sven, were already at their respective jobs at the illustrious company, Iltech which made and sold computers. Kaoru was on the board of advisors and Sven was the president of the American team since the previous president had retired.

The kindly cook bustled inside, grinning at the young woman. "Are you hungry, chere?" the French accent was nearly gone but Akemi told Marie to practice when she was around so that she wouldn't lose the accent entirely.

"I don't have time to eat this morning but...I would like a glass of orange juice, sil vous plait!"

"Of course." Marie handed her young Mistress a glass of freshly squeezed juice, patting the youth on her arm. "Your Mum and Dad send their love and hopes that your day is good."

Akemi nodded, a half smile quirking her lips. "Merci, Marie." Akemi deposited the empty glass onto the counter, pivoting on her heel and heading for her room again. It was always oppressively silent in the morning. Usually, her parents brought their friends over every night to discuss mergers and other boring business. It livelied the house up somewhat but...it radiated loneliness. Even at their manor in England, it was also so morose and melancholic. Akemi thought it was ignorant to purchase such a tremendously large house when only four people lived in it; sometimes more if the servants decided to stay.

Gathering the shards of her beloved clock and throwing them in the trash, Akemi set about the rigorous decision on her clothing. She was a modest girl who, despite being the owner of a beautiful body, didn't flaunt it. She had come to that decision at a tender age; noone would love her for her soul if she merely had her external beauty on the shelf for sale. Akemi grabbed a pair of khaki bellbottoms and a graphic orange Karmaloop tee shirt.

Dressing rather slowly, still under some of the effects of sleep, Akemi felt her heart flutter with nervousness. What would this school be like? Minutes folded into a half hour and she was finally ready to pursue the day with a heavy, leaden heart.

- - -

The ride to the school was uneventful, besides being behind several buses, waiting for those without driving priviledges to board the alternate mode of transportation. Akemi was unimpressed by the archaic building, it had to have been built in the mid 1930's. The brick was crumbling in several places and the stone was water logged. Akemi groaned. At her rate of luck, the school would destroy itself while she was inside!

She shouldered her bag gently on her fragile collar bone, intent on avoiding the rush of early crowds. She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of squealing tires. Couldn't teenagers ever ~not~ show themselves off? Suddenly, she was on her rump. "Bollocks," Akemi whimpered at the pain on her derriere that would more than likely become a bruise.

"I'm sorry about that. Are you alright?" a silken voice from above let Akemi know that she had in fact collided with a person and not a solid object. Through a veil of flaxen locks she stared at the speaker. He was definitely a man, not one of those ignorant youth's that would already be asking her for a date. His hair was deep murky brown, parted in soft waves to his angular chin. The skin was bronzed, clashing well with the bright evergreen eyes twinkling with something akin to mirth. He was tall; a full foot over the petite junior.

Akemi accepted the offered hand, dusting her pants free of debris. "I'm fine, thank you. I should be the one apologizing. I'm afraid I was distracted by some silly git in the parking lot." She frowned as the offending boy stepped from his Audi.

"You're British?" the man asked curiously.

Her cheeks flushed a faint rose, turning and entering the school with the man. "Yes, I moved here last Monday. I'm quite petrified of how I'll be treated."

"You shouldn't worry too much. The kids can be mean at times but their not evil."

Akemi chuckled, smiling. "Am I right in the deduction that you are a teacher?"

"I'm James Morrison, Art teacher."

"Akemi Walker, junior attending your Art two class," she grinned charmingly.

James smiled. "I'll be looking forward to teaching you. Good luck," he said, as he pivoted towards the foreign language section of the school. Akemi's face remained aflamed. That was odd...

Akemi shrugged to herself, taking her schedule from her bag. She groaned. She didn't have the faintest idea as to where she was going! She spotted the blaring sign with the words office written on it. Akemi ignored the curious stares from some of the students, intent on finding out where exactly she needed to go. She tapped her foot on the floor, patience wearing thin. The woman secretary was chatting on the phone, completely disregarding her!

Akemi huffed, spinning on her heel and leaving the office with a grand finish; she slammed the door childishly. "The rudest people are in America," she mumbled under her breath, glaring pointedly at the office. Where in the hell was room 200! First floor, second floor, third floor, one of the cabins? And where in the hell was her locker? She skimmed the corridors for people that resembled juniors, only to fail. All the grade levels looked the same.

Deciding to just take her own tour, she continued towards the staircase. She'd eventually find her locker and classes. Akemi glanced at a fight in the middle of the stretch of hallway. Were people this cruel? The two boys landed near her feet, she gave a surprised squeak. The boy obviously winning, set back on his haunches, keeping the other boy boxed in. Surprisingly, the boy on the bottom merely rolled his eyes. The crowd parted, having gotten used to the two's behavior.

Akemi cocked her head to the side in puzzlement. The grey eyed teenager smirked standing up. The smaller one snorted and departed. "You're new here, huh?" Akemi nodded politely. "My name's Caleb, the idiot who just left is my brother Chris. Twins, ya know?"

"Um, yes, I suppose. You do not look exactly alike."

Caleb raised a shoulder in answer. "Its the whole identical, fraternal, whatever thing. I dont really care. I just know I was born at few minutes before he was." He ran a hand through touseled brown hair. "You from England?"

"Why, yes I am."

"Thought so. That or Australia." He took her schedule, looking it over. "A junior too? This is the junior hall. Come on, I'll get you settled in and take you to the first two classes; we have them together. After that, you're on your own." Caleb winked cheerfully.

"Right-o," Akemi remarked, following diligently behind her new friend. Interested gazes were trained on her figure as she moved through the throngs of juniors, heading for her locker. Caleb paused at locker number 1009.

"Here you are. The bells won't ring for ten or so more minutes. Art is first period. Its the classroom at the furthest end of the hall. You can't miss it, murals are painted on every wall within its area. I'm going to get breakfast, so...I'll see you in class!" Caleb waved joivally as he retreated to his brother's side.

Akemi blinked. He was friendly enough. She turned the numbers in the combination-lock, giving herself a mental pat on the back for getting it on the first try. The inside was already stock piled with her texts and binders; something she could thank her parents for doing. She was glad to note that there wasn't an Art text; more than likely it would be notes from .

She grabbed the trendy tie-dyed binder and headed for the art room. Akemi gaped at the beautiful painting on the walls lining the section of the school. Detailed Japanese anime characters, flowers of all kinds, rainbows, and other interests that grabbed the artist's attention were muraled. Akemi smiled, going inside.

The class was empty, something that shocked her. "I'm relieved you managed to find my classroom," James voice caused her to jump. She was about to glare when she saw the amusement twinkling in his jade eyes. "You can sit wherever you'd like though I recommend, near my desk." Akemi smiled, sitting at the desk James had indicated. "Its unlucky you came so late; you missed the lecture on the history of Art."

"Oh, poor me," she smirked. "I happen to have already studied that at my last school. I take we are making sculptures this grading period?"

"That we are," James sat on the flat plane of the surface of the desk. He was used to being this close to his students; being a friend instead of a teacher. "What was your favorite era of painting?"

"Italian Renassiance," Akemi answered smugly.

"She favors her mother in that taste," a voice interrupted the conversation. Both heads spun to see Akemi's father. Sven fixed James with a glare, his blue eyes gleaming ferally. James removed himself from the girl's desk, passing by Sven with a glowwer of his own. Sven hugged his daughter warmly, kissing her forehead. "How are you, pumpkin?"

"I'm swell, father. Why are you here? Marie said that you had already left for work with Mum."

"I have some business to discuss with . I should talk with him of that now before class starts. I'll see you tonight, sweetheart." Sven fondly ruffled Akemi's hair, bidding James follow him into James' office.

The art teacher crossed his arms in front of his chest. "What is you want, ?"

"Don't play stupid with me, Morrison. I know what you are about. I demand you keep from my daughter. She's too innocent to be corrupted by a two timer like you."

"Who do you see? Me or my father?" James asked bitterly, knowing he was provoking Sven into an arguement. Sven clutched James' collar of his oxford shirt, shoving him against the wall. James met the deadly snarl with a relaxed facade; inside he was quaking.

"Leave that bastard out of this. You're just like him. My daughter is a beautiful young woman with a pure heart that doesn't need YOUR influence. Do you understand me?" James nodded shortly. "Good. If I find out your even ~friends~ with Akemi, I'll file sexual harrassment charges against you. I'll make it to where you'll never be able to teach in America or England."

As Sven placed his hand on the doorknob, James said, "I am not my father, Sven."

"We'll see about that, won't we?"

James waited for the class door to slam shut abruptly before composing himself and stepping into his class. He wasn't surprised that Akemi was regarding him with obvious concern. Why did Sven think that he would approach Akemi in a non-platonic way? Was it truly because of his father and what he had done in the past? James sighed, sitting at his desk.

" , what did my father say to upset you? What'd you say to him?"

"It was nothing, just a disagreement. Sit down, Miss Walker, please," he added softly, not missing the flash of pain in the oceanic depths. The rest of the students filed in and Akemi was forced to relent but she wasn't going to give up. As a Walker, it was against her morals.


Was it good?! My first het! ^.^