𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲

𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈

The young, tall, lean and muscular, pale skinned, black haired and obsidian eyed boy in black and grey stalks down a long, stone corridor. His loyal little maid followed after him. He had a serious expression on his face that betrayed no emotion.

The boy reaches the end of the high roofed and wide corridor, to a tall bronze statue of a man holding an open book in one hand and an eagle perched on his other, the famed Edgar Allan Poe.

Saturday leans against the cool surface and sighs. Momentarily closing his eyes. He shakes his head slightly and opens his eyes to stare up at the tall statue.

As his petite maid approaches him with her small hands clasped in front of her, he notices the cover of the bronze book. It had a round gold symbol of a flower with a skull at its centre etched into it.

"What are you doing down here?" Ethan's inquisitive, sudden, clear, deep voice rang down the corridor. It made Misaki jump.

The sharp eyed werewolf had also noticed his stoic roommate's disappearance.

The tall white-blonde boy places a large pale hand on the little maid's small shoulder.

"Look. You're freaking Misaki out." he says accusingly.

Saturday moves his head down to stare at Ethan, who approaches him.

"Hiding." says the boy coldly. "People keep randomly smiling at me out there, it's unsettling." he explains as Ethan places a large hand on his grey and black blazer shoulder.

Ethan smiles warmly, as the two boys walk back through the corridor, Misaki following silently behind them. "It's called having your moment. You took down Bianco Barclay. Try to enjoy it." the taller, pale, white blonde with blue and pink highlights says gently to his friend.

"The guys wanna know if you wanna hang out later." Ethan says lightly, to a piercingly cold stare given to him by his roommate. "Oh, come on, it won't kill you." he adds pleadingly.

"I'll think about it." says Saturday quietly.

Ethan smiles radiantly, nods at him, winks at Misaki, and runs off to the nearest table, where his teammates were sitting, the black and silver Poe Cup standing tall on the wooden table.

"Yes!" exclaims Ethan wildly as he hops to sit down at the wooden bench, his white-blonde hair fluttering handsomely in the wind, accenting his electric blue and pink highlights.

"It's good to see you fitting in." came the gentle, deep, honey-like voice of Principal Weems.

He stood in his full cream overcoat, his cream white gloved hands at his side.

"Just like your Father." he smiles very handsomely with great charm at the young champion and his maid behind him. The raven haired boy looks up into his teacher's face coldly, betraying no emotion, though his dark, obsidian coloured eyes shone like black diamonds.

"My Father and I are two different people/species/everything." he replies icily.

The very tall, lean but muscular, pale white-blonde man slowly changes his smile into a reminiscent and far-off look in his crystal blue eyes. "The last time Ophelius Hall won the Poe Cup," in the Pentagon, Mr. Thornhill crouches and puts a hand on Ethan's shoulder, excitedly looking at the Poe Cup. "your Father captained the team. I was his co-pilot. Maybe you two are more alike than you think." finishes the Principal, smiling softly at the brooding young boy in front of him, black eyes shining brighter than the whitest starts.

Saturday was again reminded, albeit annoyingly, at how Principal Weems and his Father were practically the older equivalent of him and Ethan.

Saturday turns his head to look at the pentagon. "I'm so excited." came Ethan's deep voice above the rest.