Author: falachen (Cherry)

Fandom: Corpse Party

Series Title: "Fill in the Blank"

Rating: T

Summary: Oh come on, he wasn't that bad of a guy. Actually, he thought, he was pretty awesome! So why not help out a fellow classmate with her problem? Through the wonderful world of electronics, of course! A "Fill in the Blank" one-shot

Pairing(s): Mitsuki Yamamoto and Kensuke Kurosaki

Disclaimer: I don't own Corpse Party. It really sucks because I would make Yoshiki and the Anatomical Model 200% more canon and they would be the series' main pairing, filled with so much fire and passion and they would be so hot, everyone would pit stains the size of New Jersey!

She wasn't a dumb person. She was actually very intelligent, mind you. She just had a way with words sometimes. And not the kind, poetic, soulful sort of words. The more aggressive, more assertive type. But it wasn't like she always meant them. It was just her way of showing consideration. That she cared.

Mitsuki Yamamoto always believed herself to be a bright girl. To see people for what they were. To befriend and be loved by all, even with that rapacious vocabulary and –erm—"motherly" nature of hers. She did it like a pro. And she prided herself in it.

So why did something like this happen?

She honestly couldn't answer the question herself. She was confused, befuddled, frustrated, angry, and devastated all at once. Her mind couldn't decide which emotion to feel in that moment. So it didn't. Each negative sensation crashed down on her and she couldn't say she handled it. She ran. The tears streamed freely down her pale face. She didn't look back. She didn't need to. It was over. That much was clear.

"Have you seen her?"

"What happened?"

"He did! She did! Oh poor girl."

"I heard it was THREE girls!"

"Oh please! Hellgirl can take it!"

She apparently skipped the student council meeting today. That wasn't like her. She never missed a single one. She was always the earliest member to arrive. She was the one who ratted anyone who came late, even resorting to physical abuse.

He really had no idea in his mind on what to do. How to handle the situation. It was already fragile, as it was. She was fragile, to be more specific. He didn't want to tip the scale anymore than was necessary. Besides, she was probably already sore towards him to begin with.

That day was the day of the annual spring cleaning and she had asked him –rather forcibly, he might add—to assist her in tidying up the student council room. She couldn't stand clutter and mess.

Kurosaki had weaseled out of the whole affair, blaming it on baseball, which he guessed was a dumb move on his part. He already knew of the wrath of Hellgirl Mitsuki, though he's never seen its full force and frankly, he really did not want to. So he had been hiding from her, shielding himself away because he knew if she sniffed him out, he couldn't fathom what colorful forms of torture she could concoct for his sorry buttocks.

But he didn't think of that whole predicament right now. Now, he was consistently peeking at the door, trying to spot the familiar face he was anticipating.

It was impeccable timing, really. She trudged in the room the exact moment he slyly whipped out his phone. Perfect.

Mitsuki traipsed into the classroom after making absolute sure her eyes were no longer red and puffy. The last thing she needed was an interrogation from her friends and intrusive meddlers sticking their noses into her business.

She ignored the questioning stares from her classmates and the disapproving frown her teacher was giving her and slumped into her seat.

Breathing. Focus on breathing.

Closing her eyes, she pulled out her school supplies and began flipping open her notebook to appropriate page to begin doodling, when she felt a slight vibration shoot down her leg.

What the-?!

Oh. It was just her phone. Why didn't she turn it off before?! It was probably that bastard trying to apologize and atone for what he did. Mitsuki didn't want to hear it. She wasn't about to lament over what they could've been. Guys like that didn't deserve it.

She was about to shut off the contraption when the name flashed across her eyesight. Kurosaki.

Huh? Kurosaki? What did he want? Sighing, she gave in, ducking her phone underneath her desk, tapped the message open, and began scanning it, her eyes darting across the screen with speed and efficiency. She didn't want to get caught, after all. Mitsuki Yamamoto making two strikes in one day was more than anyone would be able to handle.

As she read the message, she was aware of her changing posture. How her back slowly began to arch forward. How her legs clamped together. How her brows furrowed in bemusement. How her eyes gradually widened and, with her eyebrows still creased, made her expression transform into a rather comical one.

Kurosaki was keeping a close eye peeled on her as his thumb skimmed across the pad of phone with utmost professionalism, all the while unbeknownst to their oblivious teacher, whose back was still faced to the class. Boy, did it pay off to pester Katayama for that darn dating sim. He was confident that this was a good approach on how to cheer her up without getting his ass whooped, but started to feel a teeny bit doubtful when he watched her face.

The widening eyes. The clenched fingers around her phone. The feet digging into the bottom rims of her chair. The slight flush of her cheeks.

The look could tentatively be titled, the 'OH CRAP' look.

And as Mitsuki scrolled down further into the chaos of lame pick-lines, cheesy "the sun will come out tomorrow" sermons, bordering-on-to-crude comments, and random pictures of goats and vegetables, her countenance quickly became 'OH SHIT'.

Kurosaki wasn't even aware that there was a difference until now.

And as her eyes soaked in the last text, her fingers shutting off the gadget with rough motions, Kurosaki could already feel a feeble tingle in his southern back area.

He knew it was coming. He could already guess that much.

The second the bell rang, signaling for the end of the period, Kurosaki made sure his belongings were already packed and ready to go, in case he needed to leap out the nearest window.

He kept his eyes trained away from Mitsuki, who was quite obviously still fuming and prepared to blow a top at him.

Oh he knew he should've kept his big mouth shut! Or rather, keep his stupid thumb away from his stupid phone!

It happened fairly quickly too. Before he was able to even make it pass the door, she was already onto him, keeping up pace with him as she practically yelled into his ear.

"Seriously, Kurosaki, what the hell?!"

"Do you realize you could've gotten me in trouble?!"

"My perfect record could've been RUINED!"

"What were you thinking?!"

"Obviously, you weren't thinking because you misspelled almost everything!"

"AND YOU SENT ME SIX PICTURES OF AN EGGPLANT!"

Kurosaki winced as her voice started to rise in octaves and grow shriller with each attack. That last one in particular sent a shiver down his spine and some tingles around his neck. Please let it be quick and painless. Please let it be quick and painless. Please let it—

"Are you even listening to me, you moron?!"

He gulped in a big breath of air and willed himself to speak in a calm and steady fashion to the raging girl.

"…Er...?"

Well, so much for that.

Mitsuki continued to glare him down as his eyes were now wide as saucers. His response made her want to wrap her lither fingers around his throat and strangle him. Ugh, this idiot!

"Honestly, an eggplant? You couldn't even think up a better image to send to me?!"

Kurosaki scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish smile, but did not respond, for fear of another one of his very many enlightened comments to make another appearance and piss her off.

"Why would you send me an eggplant with the Canadian flag behind it anyway? Not even the Japanese one! Canada!"

"…Er…?"

See, it was so intelligent the first time, it decided on an encore!

"And it was the SAME one! What, did you think it was so nice and provocative a photo the first time around, you couldn't stop at just one?"

Kurosaki finally had the decency to lower his eyes at his feet, "Look, Mitsuki, I'm sorry. I just wanted to, you know…"

Mitsuki raised an eyebrow, the look of annoyance never leaving her expression, "You wanted to what?"

He looked up this time, blue eyes meeting turquoise. "To cheer you up."

A pause.

Huh? Why would he think I needed…

She made the connection. How in the world does he know about that? Who told him? Crap, she didn't want anyone to know!

It was happening again. That sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The familiar prick at the back of her eyes. The utter humiliation she felt in that moment made her break eye contact with him, bowing her head.

By the time she raised it again, her demeanor had changed once more. There was a coldness in her eyes, and her stance was one with exhaustion and vexation.

Kurosaki blinked, feeling like he was staring into the eyes of a dead fish: Stormy, full of indescribable emotion, but lacking life.

"Okay, I appreciate the concern, but it was unnecessary," There was an underlying edge in her voice now and Kurosaki blanched. With that statement, Mitsuki wheeled around on the balls of her feet and stormed off, with Kurosaki's eyes boring into the back of her retreating figure.

With a sigh, he turned around and stalked off in the opposite direction.

If you were to look closely and listen carefully, you would've heard some whimpers and sobbing coming from behind the tree beside the disgusting, spit-coated drinking fountain.

If you were anymore of an idiot, you would've suspected that the tree itself was crying. If you were more of a sane person, you would've been sneaky and had crept up to the tree to take a quick peek. And in that instant, you would've found a girl with her back hunched, her arms wrapped around her legs in a defensive manner, and she was cooking up a rainstorm for all those poor ants on the ground beneath her. Now, if you were still able to retain your genius in those few seconds it took to get you there, you would've done the smart thing and back away from the tree and skip on with your merry life, wondering why this girl was weeping the way she was.

She was already bummed about her stained perfect record —which she was the one who ruined by skipping her classes and the student council meeting today, she failed to either mention or recall— and that her two classmates, Katayama and Ohkawa, had just ambled by with a heated argument about how absolutely thrilling it was to be making out with three girls at the same time!

But Mitsuki was too tired to scold them for their poor treatment of pixelated, probably-with-big-bust-size girls, who she really could relate to right now.

Damn you, Kurosaki. I didn't need your pity!

She grumbled, the urge to stab him with scissors still very adamant.

Once I get back in there, I'll dropkick you in the groin.

Mitsuki yanked out her phone from the breast pocket of her uniform, the strap on it giving her more leverage and prevented her from whipping it across the country with those rugged motions.

She was originally planning to send him some message that perfectly summed up a piece of her mind, when her eyes glanced across a text he had sent her earlier. 'What did the ocean say to the other ocean? Nothing. They just WAVED! HAHAHA LOL!'

Oh he SO stole that from the Internet! He couldn't even create a joke on his own. A lame one at that!

Mitsuki rolled her eyes at his idiocy, but continued scrolling downward into the uttermess and found that he really may have been a lacking any originality or intelligence in his jokes or pickup lines. Not to mention all those eggplants. But they did manage to humor her somewhat, and before long, she found herself giggling.

And while she was still scanning the mass of Kurosaki's Idiocy at its finest, a new feeling was beginning to grip her, blooming from the pit of her stomach and making its way up to her heart.

Gratitude.

Mitsuki was grateful. She was grateful for the distraction. She was glad for the jokes. She was annoyed at the crass talk, but still found the corners of her lips tugging skyward at the vulgar words anyway. And ultimately, she was grateful for the effort.

He really put a lot of effort to produce such embarrassing messages and photos, all the while in the middle of class with his phone under his desk and sending all of these to her without actually ever looking down at his phone. It must have been a feat on its own to not get caught.

She was suddenly regretful of her harsh words at him earlier. He was doing all of this to cheer her up. And she returned the favor by placing guilt on top of his head.

Ugh, she really was a pain in the ass sometimes!

As she got up to her feet and stretched out her legs, Mitsuki pulled up a new message window and began walking away from her little tree.

And as the wind picked up and weaved through her hair, she never stopped to acknowledge the faint smile dotting her lips.

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick-

Okay, he couldn't take much more of this. Chin in his hand, pencil placed in between his fingers, head about to explode from that bastard clock ticking away at his sanity.

Kurosaki released another exasperated sigh and tried to ignore the tick-tocking.

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick-

Yep. No. This wasn't going to work. He needed something to distract himself with.

Tick tock. Tick tock-

He really needed something to distract himself with.

But just as he was about to take out his phone and fire off another message to Katayama for that damn dating sim, a vibration shot down his leg.

What the-?!

He just received a new message! Perfect. A distraction. Superlative timing. Kurosaki was about to send a thank-you to the Heavens for the interruption, when his eyes caught the name on the screen.

Mitsuki.

Huh? What did she want?

Oh crap, she was giving him a time and place, wasn't she? She already decided on his execution method! She already bought the rope and whip to beat his ass with! Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap! What was he thinking, sending her those text messages and pissing her off?! He was such an idiot!

Feeling absolute dread from his toes, all the way up to the tip of his nose, Kurosaki grimaced as his index finger ever-so-lightly tapped the OPEN box.

Thank you.

He knew it! She was going to cut-

Wait. What?

He glanced down at the message again, the big block letters flashing on the screen like fireworks. Thank you.

And joy shot through his every being. He wasn't going to die today! He could still eat those delicious roasted chicken from that little corner shop up the road! He could still talk! He could still be alive! He could barely contain his exuberance!

But maybe it wasn't such a good idea to be laughing like a madman in the middle of class.

Her heart was pounding furiously now. One foot in front of the other, she kept reminding herself. Panting heavily, sweat drenching her, her forehead now covered in a sheen of perspiration.

Oh God, please help me!

No. She can't be doing this. Running around in circles wasn't going to help. She needed somewhere to hide. She needed to run. She needed something else to defend herself with.

Yes! That's it! Find another weapon. He already took her chisel. She wouldn't be able to outrun him for long. She'll have to tire eventually. He was much bigger than she, and possessed longer legs. He'll catch her.

But where could she go? Where could she find a weapon? Maybe she should settle with finding a place to hide.

She needed to be as quick as she could manage. He wasn't the only person wandering these halls. There was the man with the hammer to consider as well. Emi's face flashed into mind.

Emi. There it was again. The prick in the back of her eyes. Lifting her head up, she tried to wipe out the memory. She can't be thinking about that right now.

Fukuroi. Oh no. Stop thinking about that!

Picking up pace again, she found herself in the boy's lavatory, cowering underneath the sinks. She couldn't get into the stalls. She was crying profusely now. She couldn't control her tears anymore. It's impossible to keep them at bay now. All she could do was cry and wait.

Waiting for her impending doom. Waiting for him to hear her sobs and find her. Waiting for the end.

And through all this crying and waiting and dread and fear, one thought kept crossing her mind.

As the shadow loomed over her and pulled her out of her hiding spot and took her away to the end, the only thing she could think of was—

"YAMAMOTO! WHY SO QUIET?! DOESN'T IT HURT?!"

—'Why an eggplant?'

FIN.