School was out, and the halls and corridors outside the classrooms were silent and empty, save for a few girls hurrying to and fro in groups of two or more. For safety, right? Further on to the music rooms, and all empty save one. The door was firmly shut, but the music could still be heard faintly. Inside, a slender girl sat at the piano, lost in her own music and swaying slightly as her fingers smoothed across the black and white keys with an ease and grace that spoke only of long practice. Suddenly she stopped and stood, reaching to ruffle around in her bag, apparently searching for something.

The piece was coming along perfectly, and Rafael could not help but think everything was ready. She was searching for her digital recorder. A nifty little device, she could use it to record her playing and then take it back to her computer and edit it as she saw fit. She had obviously been in class previously, given that she was still wearing her school uniform and her sneaker, black this time, with a row of badges along each side. As she leaned further forward, the excuse for a school skirt that wore rode up slightly and exposed her black hotpants.

Not that she cared. She had long gotten used to the idea of it, and so wore hotpants that were slightly longer than most and appeared as very tight shorts if nothing else. There was small cry of delight when she found the recorder. "Gotcha!" Flipping it open she placed it on the piano top and pressed a button, the small machine whirring to life. When she spoke, her voice was soft and confident. "Rafael Kitara, Thoughts in E Minor."

Sitting down again, she took a deep breath and flicked her long black braid before her hands went to the keys and she started to play.

The substitute music teacher was close by, hearing the beautiful music surprised and yet soothed him. "Wonder who that could be..."

He walked out of his office and headed towards the sound, he swung open the door creating a large bang as it hit the wall. Then she saw him, the bad boy, his shades on, leather jacket, beaten-up black button up shirt, black jeans and a guitar case slung over his back. He immediately applauded her, "Beautiful music my dear... simply beautiful...".

The music would come to an abrupt halt, Rafael swivelling on her chair to view who had interuppted her so rudely. Brown eyes, warm as chocolate, first narrowed in annoyance now widened as she took in the sight before her. She could truly not believe her eyes. A male. In Shokushu. Anyone other than Rafe would have showed some kind of reaction then. But she was far too well trained, the Japanese-American girl standing and turning to face him fully.

She gave a little dip of a bow, the silken tendrils of hair that had escaped her braid, framing her delicate features and somehow darkening the warmth of her eyes to a simmering dark brown. Her gaze shifted to the guitar on his back and she lifted slightly on her toes at the sight of it.

"Do you play?" she asked softly, it suddenly occuring to her that it might be one of the teachers. Not that the faculty were here favourite people in the world. In fact, she hated them. "Well...?"

Bon smiled at her, looking her up and down. She had some nice features and apparently some sass, which was quite impressive for a girl like her.

He stopped browsing her body with his eyes behind his shades when she used her sass and he chuckled. "Yeah I play... its not for show...". He smiled at her, and walked in, closing the door behind him.

"Oh I'm sure it's not." Rafe eyed the guitar very obviously on show and then went to take her seat at the piano again. Fingers splayed on the keys, a few notes tinkled as she ran her hands across the piano experimetally, the recorder on the top flashing slightly as it picked up the sound of her music.

Eyes fluttered shut as her playing picked up, Rafael reviewing her mental picture of the man behind her, and finding herself enjoying the sight. It had been long enough since she had seen a man who appealed to her that much, and who she knew would have made her mother scream with frustration. Her perfect, stuck-up mother.

Her voice, when it came, was soft and lilting though the confidence of the girl was laced through the honeyed tones. "Would you play for me?"

Bon smiled and walked closer to her. "Sure... what song would you like to hear?". He sat next to her and placed his guitar in his lap.

Fingers trailed across the keys, silken tips pressing gently on the hard ivory so that the lilting melody sifted through the room, wrapping around them. Rafael sat up straight, back slightly arched as she spoke, softly, her words trailing in and out of the soft tune she was playing.

"There is an acoustic version. One of the greatest piano and guitar duets by my reckoning. Karma Police by Radiohead. You know of it?" Still her fingers drifted across the keys, light and dexterous and certainly in no hurry. It was finely tempered skill, honed from when the girl was old enough to read music.

"That way, I can play with you."

"A fine group, Radiohead," cuts a slick voice from the shadows. "Though a bit too... Artsy for my taste."

The door opens and Prof. Montclair falls on his back, looking up at Rafael and the music teacher with curious golden eyes. "A fine evening, wouldn't you both agree?"

They all had funny eyes, Rafael decided as she swivelled around in her seat to study the man who had entered with barely concealed curiosity. Silken strands of dark hair, come loose from her braid, fluttered through the air with her movements and Rafe lifted slender fingers to absently brush them away from her face.

"Well, that is your opinion then. I think you are wrong, but that is my opinion." she said smoothly, her silken tones soft with only a hint of an accent. Turning back to the keys, she lifted elegant shoulders in affirmation.

"And a lovely evening it is, indeed."