"Happy birthday, Mikaël dear," Renée congratulated as she grabbed a bag from under the kitchen table. Taking a present from out of it, she gave it to the excited teen in front of her. The packaging wasn't anything fancy, it was a rectangular looking box with a midnight blue wrapping and a yellow decorative bow on top of it.

Happily receiving his gift, Ryota almost squealed. Age didn't matter when it came to presents, much less when the said present was for one's birthday and came from someone you held dear. Unsticking the birthday card from the wrapping, he hurriedly set it aside too immersed in discovering his gift to read the message.

The granny only smiled at his action, already used to it. Every year was the same, Mikaël would jump on his gift first and read the letter second, this no matter how many time they reminded him of the birthday card. But Renée didn't mind, on the contrary part of her felt grateful every time he behaved this way, it was a type of childish behavior her grandson rarely displayed and seeing him act his age from time to time without any need of sham performance only warmed her heart. She wasn't dumb, she had known the boy his whole life. Of course, she would notice the way he acted with time.

She didn't know why nor did she know how her small Mikaël developed this type of conduct, but for as long as she could remember her grandson had always been peculiar when it came to socializing. It wasn't bad per se, Mikaël was anything but antisocial, in fact despite his unusual childhood he was one of the most social kid, always had lots of friends and was well-liked by everyone he met. 

Liked, so liked she sometimes found it a bit disturbing. Though, she supposed that was because of her personality that wasn't what one would call 'outgoing.'

Mikaël seemed to have everything when it came to relationships if you excluded a father and mother. His mother had passed away less than a week after his birth and, since Pierre, his uncle didn't want to raise him Renée as his grandmother had become his guardian. As for the father, the thought of him made the old lady release a sigh. She had never talked to him, in fact, the only one who had met him, excluding her daughter, was her son whose impression of the man wasn't the best.

Wryly smiling now, Renée's attention was brought back to her grandson by his sudden exclamation at the view of his gift. It was a pair of sneakers, black with some green and yellowish pattern on each side of it. Those, to Renée, were similar to parting gifts, a present for him to remember them every time he wore them while playing his beloved basketball in Japan.

Even though he had received tons of shoes with his contract as a model, Ryota felt immensely touched upon receiving his grandmother's gift. He knew his grandmother's pension wasn't anything to scoff at, but it didn't mean she could afford anything either. Gladly receiving the pair of sneakers, Ryota engulfed his granny in a hug, the tear ducts in his eyes not letting any of his tears roll down his cheeks. "Thank you mamiecchi, I love them!" he chirped, earning an affectionate chuckle from the old lady.

::

"Mika, don't get lost," Claude reminded as they passed the border, the man's blue eyes flickered to the teen by his side for a second before a sigh escaped his lips. The teen seemed hyper than usual but also tenser and almost a bit afraid. Well, he supposed the reaction was natural, Mikaël had never boarded a plane before nor had he stepped inside an airport until today.

To the manager who was used to dealing with the greenhead's seemingly childish antics and schemes, this type of reaction was a bit refreshing and not unwelcomed. Almost tease worthy, but Claude knew better, he didn't want a terrorized or overexcited teen by his side while in the plane. Refraining himself, the blond instead took a look at the boarding board. Their flight wasn't a direct one, they first stopped by Paris before hopping on another aircraft to Tokyo.

Fully equipped in case Mikaël revealed to have a severe case of motion sickness, Claude started to lead the way to the boarding venue. "There," he said as they passed in front of the few shops. "Your grandmother told me you didn't eat anything this morning, you should go and buy yourself something," he explained before stopping in his track as the teen was about to depart, he added: "Take me an expresso."

Ryota hurriedly nodded, not really caring about where his guardian was going he made his way to the nearest coffee shop which happened to be a Starbuck. A bit giddy, at the sight of the American brand, the teen took a pack of club sandwiches before going to the cashier. Ordering an expresso for his manager and a hot chocolate with whipped cream for himself, Ryota paid before quickly joining his manager who sat near a booth with electric outlets.

The blond who quietly sat with his plugged computer in front of him seemed immersed in whatever he was reading on the led screen. Not inquiring about it, the green head placed the steaming hot expresso next to him. Silently munching on his sandwich, the teen's golden eyes roamed the hall in a seemingly childish curiosity when in fact, his eyes held more nostalgia as he stared at the passing stewards and pilots.

"—ika," the voice of his guardian brought Ryota's gaze back to his club sandwich, which he had almost finished. Taking one last bite of his chicken-filled snack, the green head, furtively licked his lips and fingers before humming in acknowledgment at the waiting adult. "We'll need to stop by Teiko before the start of the new school year," he reminded, not taking his eyes off of his screen. "There's a few papers you'll have to fill and some last tests to take," he paused, typing on his keyboard for a bit he closed his computer.

"Although, with your academics and skills in Japanese I doubt there will be any problem," he continued, his thoughts drifting to the fact that the teen for someone who had lived his whole life in France was strangely proficient in the foreign language. In fact, Mikaël seemed surprisingly skilled in many things, especially when it came to sports. His ability to reproduce moves only after seeing them once was something Claude found himself admiring and fearing at the same time. With such skill, wouldn't it make the boy an outcast despite his social skills?

He had asked the teen once about his ability to copy others, and from what he understood Mikaël's secret resided in his analytical skills and physical capacity which he tried to maintain as "perfect" as possible. As for his knowledge, Claude had long since concluded the boy was some kind of genius. As the blond's blue eyes lingered on the teen for a few minutes, he smiled, ruffling the boy's green locks affectionately. Mikaël was a good kid, there was no reason to worry.

::

"There doesn't seem to be any problem," the director said as he put the file down, his right hand reached for his glasses before he stared at the green head and his blond guardian before him. Crossing his legs, the man leaned into his black quilted chair before resuming. "Your grades are more than correct and from what I saw your physical prowesses are nothing to scoff at either," he paused his eyes zeroing on Mikaël's golden one. "Although... I have been meaning to ask, why our school?"

Ah, this question. A glint of indigo unnoticeably passed through Ryota's golden pupils as he stared back at the headmaster, refraining the smirk from creeping up his face he instead plastered a grin and beamed at the man. "I really want to join your basketball team!" he exclaimed, his eyes radiating with what appeared to be pure childish enthusiasm. "I heard that it's so strong and super cool and that you always win, did you know basketball was my favorite sport!" He cried out, not letting the man in front of him a second to register his words.

A bit startled by the teen's unexpected outburst, the principal took a few seconds to absorb everything before letting a small smile bloomed on his face, his eyes almost crinkled in affection but he refrained it and nodded in content instead. "I see, I see. That's good, kids should have enthusiasm when it comes to both sports and academic," the man praised, his shoulders more relaxed and facial expression more welcoming than before.

This kid was good. He had the grades and athletic skills Teiko looked for. Sure he wasn't from Japan, but his Japanese was more than good, he was fluent without a doubt and his accent nonexistent. What's more, some foreign blood would give fresh air to Teiko and if he succeeded, which the principal was more than sure of, it would improve Teiko's reputation even more. Although, he didn't know whether the child in front of him was genuinely curious or if he naturally was exceptionally scheming for someone his age.

"Well, if you are so eager to join our school then you are more than welcome!" the headmaster laughed as he took some sheets out of his cupboard. "There, the list of supplies you'll need for your new school year. As for your uniform, we'll need your size. Otherwise, you can go there yourself," he said, as he wrote a tailor's address down. "They'll take your measurement, but it will cost you more."

Taking the note from the headmaster, the blond nodded, his blue eyes going over the address to see if it rang a bell before gently folding it and putting it in his suit pocket. Standing up, he ushered the hyped teen next to him to do the same before bowing at the principal. "Thank you for your time, we won't trouble you any longer," he stated, his voice holding a noticeable French accent, unlike the teen who joyfully bid his goodbye as well.

Nodding and smiling at the departing duo, the headmaster leaned into his seat. His gaze flickered to the lying file on his desk, precisely the photograph stuck in the right corner of the first sheet. A boy, a teen specifically, with green hair and a pair of seemingly pure golden eyes stared at the camera, a radiant smile on his face. On the right, in bold letters, the teen's name was written. Mikaël Lamarre. A grin bloomed on his face as he thought of the year that was to come.

The glint in his eyes was something more than intriguing, it was sure to bring some unknown spices to the years to come.

::

"We'll need to pass by the agency," Claude started as he drove the black car both men had entered after the interview. "There's also some paperwork for you to sign and some documents for me to get." His blue eyes flickered to the green head next to him whose eyes were focused on his phone before going back to the road. "Don't expect to get as many shots as in France. The people in Japan don't have the same standards, and although I don't doubt your looks and ability, it may take some time for you to gain similar popularity," he explained as he parked the car, only earning a low hum of acknowledgment from the teen.

Getting out of the vehicle, the blond stuff the key in his pocket before taking his shades off and leading the way to the imposing building. "We'll have you shot with some popular, local models to get you some exposure. If the readership responds to your appearance positively we'll try to go back to your previous shooting schedule. Otherwise, you'll get degraded to a second rate model then third etcetera," pausing the blond glanced at the silent green head next to him, and as both entered the building, he seemed anything but deterred by his words.

Smiling at his charge's reaction, who seemed only more determined after hearing him, Claude continued, barely taking notice of the light indigo that flashed through his golden irises. "But I suppose you'll manage, I wouldn't have brought you with me otherwise," he added with a small smirk.

Giving a toothy smile Ryota chuckled, not hiding any of his excitement, he didn't feel fear for his career as a model. He knew who his audience was already, therefore, he had the advantage of knowing what they wanted. He smirked, even if they didn't want him anymore it didn't matter. He didn't come to start a career as a model in Japan, only to join Teiko's basketball club, nothing more, nothing less.

Happy with himself, Mikaël's eyes went over the hall. It seemed oddly familiar now that he thought of it. Perhaps in his former life, he had a shooting there. Turning to face his guardian he tilted his head. "Hey, Claudecchi," he called out in French. Both males usually spoke in their 'mother tongue' with one another. "What's the name of this place?"

Refraining himself from sighing at the question his charge asked him, Claude gave a wry smile. How could someone who schemed so far not know where he was setting foot in? 

"This is Seasonale's Japanese branch. How should I put it," he wondered aloud before glancing at the boy. "Perhaps you know of their main lifestyle magazine, it's called Zunon Boy. Have you heard of it?"

Ryota felt his world still, as the name echoed in his head. Zunon Boy?

Thanks for reading, until next time^^