Twin Chronicles: Rise Of The Renegades

Agui continued to badger me about my housemates as we made our way inside the school building. Because all I could really tell him were their names and where they came from, he instructed me to point them out and find a way to introduce him to them before the day was over.

I wouldn't pretend that I understood the lengths Agui seemed willing to go to just to meet girls. Except for his occasional companionship, I had been isolated from people my own age all my life. I did not understand the concept of attraction, flirtation, or love, and at that point in my life, I didn't think I would eventually come to know about any of it, let alone experience it myself.

But I did know about the concept of friendship. From that, at least, I hadn't been completely cut off. Yes, most of the people I considered my friends were sometimes twice my age, or even more, but the basics of making friends, I was confident I had down pat.

That, and not chasing after the opposite s.e.x, was the immediate area of my concern. My housemates all seemed like good people, and I didn't doubt we'd be able to get along, but I thought it wouldn't be fair to count on their friendship even outside our house. True friendship, I knew, wasn't based on proximity or convenience alone.

"I hope we're in the same class," I heard Agui say beside me as we reached the far end of the entrance hall and joined a crowd standing in front of lists pinned high on the wall. All our necks were craned in an awkward angle as our eyes swept through the pieces of paper, trying to find our names. This would tell us which of the seven classes for the incoming students we belonged to.

I didn't bother turning my head towards Agui when I replied. "You and my housemates?"

My neck was beginning to ache as, scanning list after list, I failed to spot my name. Other people in this throng who'd already found theirs were struggling to escape the press of solid bodies, constantly jostling those who hadn't yet and making this relatively simple task more challenging.

I sensed rather than saw Agui turn to me in exasperation.

"No, peabrain," he said. "Me and you. Although what you said wouldn't be so bad either."

It was my turn to look at him in exasperation. "Goddess, I hope you're not serious. You and me in one class? We'll be kicked out of here before the half-year is up."

"It's not like I relish the idea. But you're the only one I know here." Agui had added the last part quietly, as if – aided by the noise of other people around us – he was hoping I wouldn't hear it.

But I did, and for the first time, it fully sank in that even more than myself who had more cause for it, my cousin was really anxious about starting a new life in that school. Because the pity I suddenly felt for him wouldn't help, I shook it off and put on my previous look of annoyance instead.

"If you plan to put as much energy into making friends as you would into chasing girls, I doubt a person like you will fail at it. Besides, aren't children from your neighborhood going here too?"

He didn't answer at once and instead pretended to focus once more on the lists. Then, quietly, he said, "This isn't the only school in the area, and it's an 'integrative' school – didn't you know? Local children go to another one exclusively. Or almost exclusively, I should say, since I'm here."

Because he all but said it outright, I began to understand what I failed to even consider before. Agui wasn't here acting as my companion because he might as well do so if we were in the same place – and yes, this was the first time I'm hearing this school was 'integrative.' Even if I didn't know what that meant, it was easy to guess from what I'd been noticing about the rest of my fellow students since yesterday.

But that wasn't what's important at the moment. Agui wasn't supposed to be in this school at all.

It didn't even cross my mind to ask him then – did he do it because our grandmother ordered him to or did he have a say in the matter and decided for himself? The answer wouldn't have made a difference, at least not to me. I altered the course of Agui's life without even knowing it, and I didn't like that one bit.

I was about to open my mouth – to shout at him or to apologize, I wasn't really sure which – but he turned towards me again in the same instant, and the almost maniacal glee in his face froze whatever words were in my throat.

"You're right, dear cousin, I shouldn't have been too hasty unpacking my things."

My comprehension and subsequent horror must have been evident on my face. Agui laughed. Once again, his hand settled on my shoulder – the one that's closer to him because he wouldn't be able to reach the other one without straining himself – then shook it happily.

"We're in the same class!"

I couldn't see what he was happy about, I really couldn't. We were supposed to stay here for four years in order to prepare for our summons then join the ranks of grown men and women who were useful to society in their own way.

Unless Agui and I find our footing soon and make it so we only had to be near each other for a few minutes each day, we might be lucky if we were to last four weeks.

***

We didn't really hate each other, my cousin and I. On one of our better moods, we might admit we liked each other. At knifepoint, when pressed, we'd have no hesitation saying we loved each other dearly.

But for some reason only two people who get along as we do could understand, I couldn't last an hour in his company without wanting to pummel him. Between the two of us, I liked to think I was the one with better self-control, which was why I shouldn't have been surprised when, right as we were changing rooms for the second time that morning, Agui was dragging me by the end of my ponytail into a less crowded corridor.

He snarled when I succeeded in freeing my hair, and the face he turned towards me was so red, it looked like a ripe tomato.

My automatic suspicion was that his issue had more to do with embarrassment than with anger. I myself was so embarrassed by the spectacle he'd just made of me that I could kill him, but I did a better job hiding it as I slowly fixed my hair into what it looked like before Agui got it between his fingers. I also pretended that the smirks and chuckles from people who'd seen us were intended for the wall behind me.

"Agui," I began sweetly, not looking at him and instead acting like the state of my hair was more important than the apoplectic person I was talking to. "If you don't explain yourself right now, I'm going to make sure your face stays that red for a year."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what you just got me into."

It was not the words but the tone of his voice that got me to raise my eyes. It wasn't rage I detected – it was pure, una.d.u.l.terated fear. For the life of me, though, I couldn't figure out what I had done to warrant that reaction. It was only mid-morning.

So I asked, "What have I got you into?"

"What were you saying to that girl earlier? The one with the braids?"

Immediately, my rising sympathy for him plummeted.

"We were talking about BOARDING HOUSES because, hmm, let me think – oh, that's right – that's about the only thing we could talk about given our lack of common ground. What did you THINK, Agui? That I was badmouthing you in front of her? Even if I knew she'd caught your interest – which I DIDN'T – I wouldn't have done something like that. Mother Goddess! If that's what this is about, I swear—"

During this tirade, Agui had been trying to cut me off repeatedly. I ignored him, and that eventually led to his hand clamping my mouth to force me to shut up.

Before I could recover from surprise and retaliate, he enunciated: "It's. Not. About. That." He knew I was going to bite his hand soon so he took it away after he met his goal. I did not speak again but my eyes promised him pain. "It's not what you think. That girl was cute, but I wasn't interested in her, only in what you said. You must have mentioned something about me – can't you remember? What I told you this morning, maybe?"

The urgency in Agui's voice made me consider his questions seriously, despite still being peeved. "I… did, now that you mention it," I answered. "But that hardly matters, I didn't name you. I just said boys' boarding houses seem to be a bad deal because beasts live there. Agui, what is this about?" Instead of answering, my cousin approached the wall and slumped against it. He looked ready to collapse. "What's wrong?"

"He heard you…" he eventually said. His entire face, in contrast to how red it was moments ago, had become the palest I'd ever seen it. "Oh, Mother – Diwa, he heard you."