I found myself drawn to Mirai in a way I’d never been drawn to someone before.  There was something about this shy, quiet boy that made me feel warm all over.  He was short and slender, with a black ponytail that swept almost to the small of his back and lovely dark eyes.  His skin was a rich honey-olive and his features were elegant yet worn; he didn’t look particularly Asian, despite his Japanese name.  He wore a pair of bottom-rimless hipster glasses and a style of sneaker that wasn’t athletic but rather…  nerdy.  There were strange symbols on the rubber lining that looked like letters, but I didn’t know the language.  He’d been quietly hiding behind Chann the whole time.  He looked scared to death; I prayed it wasn’t me that had him so spooked.  Chann, on the other hand, was a good deal taller than me and seemed to have a permanent twinkle of mischief in his green eyes.  His hair was the soft brown color of a fawn’s coat and a few freckles were scattered across his nose and cheeks.  It gave him a charming, boyish look.  He had a pleasant-sounding British accent from an area I couldn’t place.  I found myself enjoying his easy-going personality and feel-good aura.

Mirai suddenly reached around Chann’s side and moved his hands in what I vaguely recognized as sign language.

“Alright.  We’ll meet you at the library in, say, five minutes?”

Mirai nodded and raced off.  I watched him go, curious and concerned.

“Where is he going?”

“The loo.  Bathroom, I mean.  He’ll be back in a bit.  I think he just got overwhelmed.”

“Is…  Is he scared of me?” I ventured.

“Hm?  Naw, not you as a person – he doesn’t know you.  He’s just nervous around new people.  He’ll come around soon enough.  We’ll wait for him at the library; I can show you some stuff on the way.”

I nodded and followed Chann through the hallways.  Pictures of students hung on the walls, topped with glass with the year stamped on them, and banners displaying the names of high-achieving students hung from the ceiling.  I found myself scanning the décor for Mirai and Chann’s names, and I found a picture of Chann when we were almost to the library.  It was an incredible action shot:  he was glistening with sweat as he kicked a football – it’s soccer ball in America, I think – down the field, his body perfectly angled.  The photo had been taken at the exact moment his foot struck the ball.  His green eyes were sharp and focused, and his fawn-colored hair was halfway in the air.

“You like it?  Mirai took it.”

“He did?”  I was almost breathless.  “It is incredible.”

“He’s great with his camera.  If you want, you can come to the footie practices and games when they start up next month.  Mirai’s at every one.”

“I would like that.”

Chann suddenly straightened, his green eyes wide and alert.  His ears were straining, as if he were listening for something.  Moments later, rapid footsteps pounded towards us and Mirai streaked into view, his hair whipping straight out behind him, giving a three-tone whistle that made Chann’s lip curl in a snarl.  Three boys chased him, all tall and burly.  Mirai shot behind Chann, his sneakers squeaking on the tile floor, and Chann rushed forward and grabbed the leader by his collar.  Chann was taller than them all and he pulled the leader straight off his feet, the other two skidding to a halt a meter or two away.

“White!” Chann spat.  “What the fuck are you doing?!  You’ve already started shit once today – isn’t that enough for you?”

“Let me go, Tomlinson!”

Chann’s grip tightened; the fabric of White’s shirt started to strain to the point of ripping.  “I want you to get out of here before I lose it on you.  If I ever catch you near Mirai again–!”

“I still don’t get why you defend that fag,” White spat.

Chann grit his teeth and tossed the platinum-haired boy onto the ground.  His friends leapt out of the way.  White scrambled to his feet and struck out at Chann; he blocked the blow with his forearm then gripped his wrist, flipping White onto his back in a move I thought only existed in the movies.  He lay winded, his mouth half-open.  Chann’s green eyes blazed with lividity, so fierce that the other two boys fled, but not without calling “Fag!” and “Go back to the Middle East!” over their shoulders.  I felt stunned by the speed of it all.

“Mirai, are you okay?”  Chann’s voice was husky with fear.  “Come on, champ, look at me.”

Mirai had sunk to the ground, his dark eyes fixed on the ground and his lips tightly pursed.  Chann knelt in front of him and tried to coax him into meeting his gaze.

“Mirai, if they hurt you, you’ve got to tell me.  Look at me.”

He seemed to shrink within himself.  He looked like he was about to cry.

“Champ, please.  I know you’re scared but you’ve got to look at me.  I need to see your face.”

Chann once again tried to tilt Mirai’s chin up and, this time, his muscles relaxed and he allowed his face to be lifted.  I hated the look on his face; he looked like he was on the verge of both crying and fainting.  Chann’s voice dropped to a whisper too quiet for me to hear.  He spoke urgently, one hand rubbing along the side of Mirai’s neck and his shoulder.  I felt awkward, hovering a meter or so away as they had such a serious conversation, but I couldn’t force myself to leave.  I was deeply concerned.  After a few moments, Mirai started to sign, and soon both of their hands were flickering in rapid sign language.  My only hint at what they were saying was the growing anger in Chann’s leaf-green eyes and the fear in Mirai’s galactical ones.

“Goddammit!  White’s gonna pay for this with blood.”  Chann’s teeth bared in an almost bestial snarl.  “You should be able to take a wee without getting jumped.  This is fucking ridiculous.  We’ve got to take this to admin.”

Mirai’s hands trembled as he signed a protest, but Chann shook his head.  “They’ll listen to us this time.  We’ll make them listen.  Blondie, you’ll come with us, right?”

“To…  admin?”

“Administration.   The headmaster – principal, here in America – and the other school officials.  They don’t give a shit about all the discrimination going on or the people getting hurt over it, and they keep turning us away because me and Dr. Stephens are the only ones saying anything about it!  With you, they might listen to us – you’ve got no bias, just what you’ve seen.  You’ll come with us, right?”  His green eyes rounded pleadingly.

“Of course I will.”

“Great!  Thank you!  Mirai, can you stand?”

Mirai shrugged.  He didn’t look like he was going anywhere anytime soon.  Chann sighed and sank down beside Mirai, patting the spot on his other side to tell me to sit down.  He gently took his friend’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“We’ll get this straightened out, champ, don’t you worry.  I need you to try and stand, okay?”  Chann’s voice was gentle and coaxing.  “You can’t stay on this floor all day; we need to go to admin so we can get to class on time.”

Mirai tightened his grip on his arms and drew his knees closer.

“I will help keep you safe, Mirai,” I told him, “and I want to see what cool things you have to show me.  It will be okay.”

“Thanks,” Chann whispered in my ear.  “Bit of a natural, eh?”

I nodded, warmed by Chann’s praise.  I didn’t feel like I was doing anything special; I just wanted to make Mirai feel better.  He looked absolutely shattered – what was so unique about me trying to help?

“Come on, Rai-Rai,” Chann coaxed.  “Let’s go.”

Chann extended a hand to help him, but Mirai didn’t take it.  He slowly, painstakingly stood on his own, but he immediately stumbled.  Chann barely caught him before he fell.

“Hold onto me.  Your strength’ll come back soon.”

I walked on Mirai’s other side, keeping him between Chann and I, feeling unusually alert.  I didn’t want White or his friends coming back to bother us, especially not with Mirai so shaken.  When we reached the admin office area, Mirai reclined onto one of the couches and gestured for me to sit beside him.  The simple invitation felt like a massive honor.  Chann stalked over to one of the doors and pounded his fist against it.  A man with fierce eyes and stubbly facial hair answered it.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Mr. Tomlinson.  What’s your complaint this time?”

“Mirai just got jumped in the bathroom by Richie White and his gang!  You’ve got to do something about this before he’s permanently injured!”

“Why should I care?  Mirai’s done nothing but cause this school trouble.”

“Mirai doesn’t cause trouble!”

“He refuses to talk – that makes everything a hundred times more difficult.  We have to adhere to that, and to his Jewishness, and to his gayness!”

“You don’t have to change a thing to attend to that,” Chann growled, “except for hiring an ASL translator so you know what he’s saying when I’m not around, which I’m pretty sure is required by law.  Mirai’s quiet and he does his work and he doesn’t bother anyone.  The only trouble related to him being Jewish and gay is the number of anti-Semitic, homophobic fucks who come after him!  If you gave a rat’s arse about any of your students, you’d do something about this!”  I was astounded that he was talking so abrasively to one of the school’s administrators, but maybe it was just an American thing.

“I care about the students who have a chance,” the man spat.

“He’s got more chance than two-thirds of the school!  He’s got the highest grades of anyone in the senior class, he’s hardworking–”

“I doubt that's true, but even if it is, I won’t let this school waste valuable time and money on him.  Get out of my sight, Chann Tomlinson, before I suspend you!”

“You’ve suspended me ten times already!  I don’t give a fuck about that.  I care about Mirai, and I’ll come here every damn day if there’s any chance of making this place less of a hellhole for him!”

The man slammed the door and Chann yelped as it closed on his foot.  He whipped it free with a growl and turned back to Mirai and I, his green eyes crackling.  I could actually see the hair standing on end on his arms.

“This fucking school,” he growled.  “I swear to you, Mirai, I’m gonna get this bollocks straightened out.  This has gone on for far too long.  I’m not letting you get any more scars here!”

Chann swept forward with his rant before I could question him about it.  Resigned to letting him get his anger out, I glanced sideways to see Mirai watching me, his dark eyes absorbing every movement I made.  I didn’t meet his gaze, not wanting to startle him into looking away, so I studied him, beginning with his hands.  A silver ring, decorated only by a line curving in small hills, sat on his right ring finger.  His black hoodie was love-worn and the arms of his glasses were slightly scratched.  A silver six-pointed star (I would later learn it was called a Star of David) hung from his left ear, inlaid with sapphires that sent small fractals of blue light spinning when the light caught the stones just right.  It was gorgeous.  I finally slid my eyes to meet his and they were otherworldly.  They were deep and intense and so dark I couldn’t tell if they were truly black or a deepened shade of grey or brown.  It was like looking into the furthest reaches of the universe, a massive void broken only by the occasional pinpoint of light.  Never in my life had I seen eyes so beautiful or expressive.  I didn’t need Mirai to sign anything for me.  I could read it all in his enrapturing gaze:  his fear, his intelligence, his overwhelmingly compassionate and selfless heart, his increasing interest in me.  Chann was still ranting but it felt dimmed, as if someone had put him behind soundproof glass.  I finally understood what books and movies meant when they said ‘the whole world fell away’; it truly did feel as if the only things in existence were the two of us.  Mirai’s eyes, pulling me in as if to imprison me forever in some distant part of the galaxy where no one but he would ever find me again, and I was okay with that, so okay with it that it was scary.  I never wanted to look away.  I didn’t think I could.  I felt like I had no will left, like I was a servant to his voice – whatever it sounded like – and his desires – whatever they may be.

Mirai looked away first and it was like being snapped out of a hypnotic trance.  The office around me was well-defined again and Chann’s British-accented voice was once again loud and clear.  He quieted as Mirai began to sign and he quickly replied, his green eyes meeting Mirai’s dark ones without hesitation.  He didn’t seem to be under any kind of spell but, then again, he and Mirai seemed incredibly close – it was only natural that he was used to those intense, interstellar irises.  At Chann’s gesture, he stood up, although he cast another glance at me.  I shuddered; just a millisecond of his stare was incapacitating.  For an instant, Mirai seemed inhuman, as if a god born of starshine and planetary dust stood before me.  The vision vanished as quickly as it had come, and that was the moment I began to fall in love with him, a man who seemed to have all the wonders and terrors of the galaxy hidden within the confines of his mortal body.

I saw Sasuke lounging in a field of clouds, running his fingers through the white puffs as if it were gliding water, white wings catching a gentle golden breeze, searching the pale blue sky as if there were something within it only he could divine.  His white wings were tipped with gold, perfect and pure, and his left wing contained a single vibrant blue feather.  A white robe, gilded with gold, left most of his fine body bare.  A golden trident sat in the white swirls of cloud beyond him, a white ribbon wrapped around its shaft.  His hair, the color of sunshine, sleek and soft and adorably untamed, was swept to the side and slightly curled against his temple.  His eyes were the most beautiful blue I had ever seen, more than any sky or ocean or sapphire.  They were sweet and tender and loving, amazing and heart-warming to look into.  He was in awe of me – I could see it in his gaze.  I knew with a burning certainty that this was what angels looked like.

Chann gestured for me to stand up and I did, Sasuke immediately following me.  My best friend quirked an eyebrow in amusement.

“I don’t know!”  My hands trembled as I signed.  I didn’t know what I felt for him, but I knew it wasn’t nothing.

The bell droned overhead and I jumped, despite the relief that it gave me an excuse to end the conversation.

“Shit, that was the last warning bell!  Come on, blondie, or we’ll be late!”