Clamp Campus, Tokyo
Autumn 1980 

Clamp Academy, built on newly gained land in the Tokyo Bay area in the years 1970/71 by the Imonoyama Corporation, consisted of kindergarten, elementary, middle, and high school as well as a university and associated graduate schools renowned for their world-leading research in natural sciences and art. Privately financed as a tribute to the youth responsible for Japan's future, it was a safe haven for the young to strive and learn. Or so the leaflet he'd been given said. 
     Rumors had it that Imonoyama had built the campus after his youngest child, Nokoru, had been abducted and existing kindergarten and schooling facilities couldn't guarantee the level of protection he deemed appropriate for his heir. The closed campus formed a complete if secluded city within. Tokyo. A city with boarding schools, laboratories, parks, botanical gardens, even a bank, a cinema, a zoo and a bakery, all closely guarded by electronics and security personnel. 
     Fifteen-year-old Seishiro considered the rumor more believable than the leaflet.
     Not that he cared about that as he stepped down from the tramway, the black book bag over his shoulder. The admission office was located in a small one-storey house to the left of the set of iron gates regulating access to the campus. The tall green-lacquered arcs of the gate reached about three-and-a-half meters up and were clearly meant to be impressive. They failed to impress him. Beyond them, a neatly plastered way framed by tended greenery on both sides and crowded with chatting students continued over a broad bridge crossing a channel to what looked like a subway station. Seishiro pushed through the Plexiglas swinging doors and found something like a ticket window inside. The small office visible behind it was cramped with electrical equipment. Not surprising, considering that the Imonoyama Corporation made most of its money with electronics and computer technology. Apparently, their achievements were already in use here. He bowed politely at the elderly admission official looking up at him. 
     "Good morning, sir. My name is Sakurazuka Seishiro." He retrieved his papers from his bag and put them on the counter. "I have an appointment with vice headmistress Magami at eleven o'clock about my transfer to Clamp middle school." 
     "I see." The clerk nodded and began sighting the documents. "Your parents didn't come with you?" he inquired frowning slightly across his half-rimmed glasses. 
     "No, sir. They believe me well capable of managing on my own."
     After all, he had been given private tutoring during elementary and the first two years of middle school and was only here to take the middle school finals to obtain an official record of his schooling. Apparently, even the Sakurazukamori organization had its limits when it came to the inquisitive Japanese school system. Not that he minded. Close contact with his prey would be necessary on occasion in his future line of work. Natural behavior among the prey was essential. The time spent at Clamp Academy would benefit his education in more than one way.
     The clerk finished his inspection and Seishiro's papers and a temporary campus ID were placed in front of him.
     "How do I get to vice headmistress Magami's office?" he asked while pocketing the files and attaching the ID to the grey jacket of his school uniform.
     "It's easiest to take the subway. Your temporary ID doubles as a ticket until you get an official tag. The middle school is at the fifth station. When you get off the train, it's directly to your right."
     "Thank you, sir. Have a nice day."
     A cool wind holding the first promise of winter whispered through his black bangs as he left the admission office. His skin prickled when he reached the tall gates. A step further and his neck hair was standing on end.
     The place was reeking of power. Vaguely familiar power. 

Clamp campus subway – called CCS – turned out to be not quite what he expected. The location on artificially raised land had apparently forced the architect to make some concessions, such as putting the subway tubes above ground. The train was actually travelling through a transparent tunnel allowing for the speed of a subway and the sightseeing of a traditional railway. Seishiro's first thought about it was that the subway served like a rather tight boundary of the actual campus. Therefore, he paid more attention to the land between the fence – or the waters of Tokyo Bay – and the tube than to campus itself. The strip of land was green despite the late season and well tended. But that didn't hide the fact that even the tallest vegetation there was less than ankle high. Not high enough to serve as a hiding spot for someone who managed to sneak across one of the few bridges. After two stations Seishiro was convinced that security was a major issue at Clamp Academy. 
     "Station Four" was announced from the speakers. He studied the station as the train rolled in. A tall sign above the exit listed the buildings within walking distance. The list started with the elementary school. The rest of the sign was hidden behind a detailed statue depicting Hephaestus, the rather fierce Greek god of forge and fire. It wasn't the typical sort of art to be put up at a station frequented by elementary pupils.
     "Fifth Station" he'd been told. So the next one was where he had to get out.
     Station Five turned out to be rather crowded at this time of the day, so the train behind him was already moving when he got to read the sign above the exit: Clamp University, Graduate schools as listed... The statue in front of it showed Hecate, the goddess of darkness, mystery, and night. Like Hephaestus before it had been done in revealing detail including a drooping neckline, black beetles, bats, and the occasional scorpion on its sandals. Seishiro felt tempted to give her a mocked salute. Instead he went on search for the stationmaster. 
     "Middle school? Oh dear." The elderly woman in the navy blue uniform with red lapels almost wrung her hands. "That's near station One. This is Five. You got off a station too early." She threw a look at the clock and shook her head. "Now if this were station Three or if you wanted to go to Two, then I'd just get you onto the transit tram and you'd be there in no time, but from here... I'm sorry, I guess you have to wait for the next train." 
     Seishiro threw a brief glance at his watch. "I'll walk." 
     "Ah, that's fine. Always go for some fitness." The woman's smile was positively demented in his eyes. "Follow the transit along the street till you get to the Imonoyama Arcades. You can't miss them, it's one fancy shopping street. Then turn left and follow the next transit line. It stops right in front of the middle school entrance." 

Seishiro held a quick pace bordering on light running. After a second glance on his watch he ignored the curious glances that followed him and increased his speed. He was running late. Literally. 
     Clamp Middle school was a two-storey building made from polished red stone. Its high multi-faceted windows and the broad entrance door repeated the arc motif omnipresent on the campus. The school was surrounded by well-tended trees apparently relocated as grown plants. The campus wasn't that old yet and they reached up to the roof. 
     The vice headmistress was awaiting him in the director's office on the first level. He clamped viciously down on his panting and the racing pulse before knocking. He entered on reply and bowed low to apologize for being late. A muscle in his cheek ticked in annoyance about the submissive gesture but luckily his bangs hid that well. 

"Admittedly, it takes some time to get used to our transit system." The woman in the artfully embroidered kimono laughed behind her fan. "Anyway. I used the time to look through your grades and your results in the entrance exams. I don't think you will have any problems in your new school, Sakurazuka-kun. Aside from getting there, that is." 
     A side door in the spacious office opened and a serious, brown-haired boy of about Seishiro's age entered, bowing respectfully. 
     "Ah, Takamura-kun." The vice head's face lit up. Seishiro tensed. "Here are the documents for Nokoru." She indicated a stack of folders at the edge of the desk. "Please be so kind as to show Sakurazuka-kun here the way. He's going to be in 3z from today on." The woman positively beamed as she practically shooed them out of her office. "And don't forget to wear your ID tag in plain sight or the campus police will stop you."
     The door closed with an audible click and Seishiro found himself in the high hallway with the arched windows in regular intervals that reminded him more of early twentieth-century Europe than late twentieth-century Japan. He hoisted his bag, turned and was faced by an inquisitive, distrustful stare from Takamura.
     "Is something the matter?" he asked casually with just the right amount of astonishment in his voice. 
     "Your name's Sakurazuka?" Takamura inquired. "Did I get that right?" 
     "Sakurazuka Seishiro, yes." He casually brushed a piece of fluff off his dark sleeve, carefully keeping the other boy in his field of view; he would not take his eyes off a possible adversary, least of all a Takamura. "And you?" 
     "Takamura Suoh." The other bit off, almost crossing the borderline to offense with the terse reply. He seemed to wait for a reaction that Seishiro failed to provide. "From the Takamura clan." 
     Seishiro raised his brows and blinked pointedly. "And here I thought you'd be a Yamato with that name!" Takamura's expression darkened and Seishiro proceeded to smile disarmingly at him. "Shouldn't we be going, Taka-kun? I don't want to get in trouble for being late a second time on my first day." 

Ueno Park, Tokyo 
in the evening of the same day 

Lost in thought, he twiddled the dry twig between his fingers. The events of this morning were still on his mind as he sat under the tree. It wasn't like him to make mistakes like that and draw attention to himself because of it. The public transport system of the campus was strange... 
     Was there even a word for an above-ground subway line? Wasn't that a contradiction all by itself? The twig scratched a circle into the dry earth between his knees. There were five stations with the first being closest to the campus entrance. He made a tick on the circle next to his left thigh. They lay in regular intervals along the line... He put the ticks on the circle and – as an afterthought – marked the cardinal points. Astonished, he noticed that station Three lay exactly to the North. Just to be sure, he numbered the ticks according to the stations they represented.
     The afternoon was progressing. The light of the sun warming his back even here under the broad crown of the Sakura had gotten a reddish tinge already. The wind rustling in the branches above him intensified and grew colder. He moved slightly, using his body to shield the dirt drawing from the breeze. 
     Now, the transit trams... 
     What had the stationmaster told him? He could go from Five to Two. The twig scratched faintly in the dry soil. And from Two to Four. Another scratch. From Four to One. Scratch. And from One to Three to Fi– 
     ...Sei-chan. Stop drawing that on my roots... 
     He almost leaped at the slightly pained voice suddenly rasping behind his eyes. "Wh– who are you?!" he demanded to know. 
     ...You're sitting under me... 
     "Tree-san?" he asked disbelievingly. 
     A flicker was all the warning he got as the maboroshi enveloped him. The park in his back was gone. The laughing children and smiling people on their afternoon stroll who had been busy packing up their belongings to go home as night fell, his 'mother' with her picnic plate... All had vanished. He found himself enclosed in the broad, intimidating beauty of the Sakura in full bloom. Not that he was intimidated. No. His temper flared. "What do you w–" he spat and stopped. Between his legs the improvised map of Clamp campus' public transport system glowed deep red. 
     ...Could you please erase that from my roots? It makes me sick... 
     Seishiro frowned, then finally saw the symbol as a whole. The pentacle was almost finished. He had almost completed the enemy's sigil at the foot of– He hastily brushed it away with his hands and scattered the earth in all four directions. 
     ...Thank you... The wind in the tree's branches sighed. ...You ought to be more careful with your drawings... 
     "Sakura-chan?" His mother's lilting voice penetrated into the maboroshi. "You aren't trying to take my loved one from me, are you?" 
     A tuft of pink, fluffy blossoms at the very end of a soft green twig tenderly brushed along Seishiro's cheek in a slow, tantalizing caress. ...As if I would have a chance trying... the tree replied with a wistful laugh. 

Clamp Campus, Tokyo 
the next morning 

Seishiro waited patiently till the train entered station One, then quickly crossed through the car and exited on the other side. Station One had Apollo, the god of light, on display. A somewhat timid deity compared to Hecate who held station Five. But that was just one oddity among many on Clamp campus. The place was formed like the Sumeragi sigil. That it was soaked with spiritual power was no surprise. That it hadn't blown him into Tokyo Bay at first sight, was. What had allowed him to enter? Since yesterday evening, Seishiro's thoughts had revolved around that. Maybe the place wasn't a true pentacle? Maybe it was deformed in some way and therefore less powerful? He would have to try and get–
     "Watch out!" Something – or rather someone, wearing a grey school uniform like his own – smashed into him. They ended in a tangled, undignified heap on the ground. 
     "I'm sorry. Are you well?" The assailant turned out to be a blond boy not quite Seishiro's height, looking positively concerned, a closed fan with red tassels dangling from his wrist. 
     "I'll live," Seishiro said tersely.
     "Aren't you in my class?"
     Seishiro shrugged, patting dust off his trousers. 
     "At least I should introduce myself after I ran you over." The other one proclaimed and extended his hand in a Western manner. "I'm Imonoyama Nokoru."
     "That doesn't make the street any softer," Seishiro muttered before he took the hand. "Sakurazuka Seishiro." 
     "Nokoru, are you hurt?" A breathless black-haired boy rushed over. "That fall looked rather–" he came to a staggering halt when Seishiro glared at him and ran a hand nervously through his hair.
     "I'm fine, Akira. Really." Nokoru hurried to tell him. "Sakurazuka-kun here took most of the impact." 
     Akira laughed in relief. "He never gets the tip turns," he told Seishiro in a low, conspiratorial voice. 
     "Then why doesn't he stay off the board?" Seishiro replied in normal volume. 
     "Because I want to make it," Nokoru said dryly, snapping his fan open in a distinctive gesture. "And I will make it." 
     "And in the process you'll make everybody else kiss the concrete."
     Nokoru positively pouted. "Hey, everybody has to learn. Don't tell me you could do it on first try!" 
     Seishiro's eyes narrowed. "That remains to be seen." 
     A skateboard rolled against his ankle. Takamura slowly walked towards them, his dark eyes glaring daggers at Seishiro's chest. "Prove it! 'Zuka-kun." 

The end point raced towards him. He hurried to whisper the connective spell supposed to hold the board under his feet in the abrupt turn to come. His hand shot out, clamped around the railing, and the impact of the curve nearly dislocated his shoulder. But it actually worked. Nobody was as surprised about the result as Seishiro himself was. Nobody, but– 
     "Wow! Have you done that before?" Nokoru ran over. 
     "Not that I remember." Seishiro slowly rotated his left arm to return sensation into it. He stepped forcefully on the end of the skateboard catapulting it up and offering it to Suoh. "Returned with pleasure, Taka-chan." He smiled, showing teeth. 

to be continued in  
36°-2: Sumeragi Subaru - Death and Life