Matt Tatami was seated at the base of the big, central cherry tree, typing on his laptop.  He glanced at the toolbar, primary battery function at 84%.  Just fine.  He flitted over his bank accounts, stocks, and bonds.  The market wasn't doing what he wanted it to, there was no way he was getting out of that filthy dorm room at this rate - not before he graduated, anyway.  He glanced around, seeing nobody he knew.  Which was, shamefully, only two people so far. The sick girl, Ichigo, and the bruiser, Masato.  He shrugged a little and closed the notebook computer.  There were stickers on the back of it, American metal bands.<br/><br/>He wasn't sure if he should start making friends or not.  In a sense, getting close to other students was the worst thing he could do.  That's what had got him in trouble back at home.  In another sense, he'd never advance in the Art if he didn't push himself.  And somebody, somewhere in this school, knew what was going on.  There had to be books, records, a hint of the secret.  He'd never find it if he didn't explore.  These girls were going somewhere, and not all of them had come back.  There was either powerful magic at work...or something mundane, like a kidnapping ring.  That didn't seem to hold up, but he supposed if his own Incident could be mistaken for something normal, then the reverse might be true.<br/><br/>With these thoughts in his mind, he's glaring intently at the front door of the school when Jessica first sees him.  He knows who she is, the other American, but he's never made any attempt to talk to her.