Disclaimer: (Herbal) Osaka-neechan does not own Azumanga Daioh.
Author: (Herbal) Osaka-neechan
Focus pairing: Tomo/Kagura
Characters: Some unfortunate bastards
Warning: Osaka did a BAD thing. :3
Summary: Tomo wants some melons.
Point of view: Narrative
Perspective: Third person progressive (YOU WANNA START SOMETHING?!)
The conceptual corner: Well… Osaka-neechan wanted to put her fingers to practice again… and This Hell was born in the twenty minutes' worth of that practice. :D
The reception corner: Osaka-nee always had this concept.
But, you know, with concepts…
Comes hemorrhoids. (…Unless you bring your ass up to the moon for a shining cure.)
The crackpot corner: Also, if you do drugs, your eyelids fall off.
…Osaka-nee's so knowledgeable, huh? D:
The folklore corner: Oiwa comes from the classic Japanese horror folklore called "Yotsuya Kaiden."
… Screw this, just go check Wikipedia. / Insert :D Here Without an Explanation /
Then tell me— WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO THEIR BABY?!
The history corner: The title came from "The Code of Hammurabi," and if you, reader, don't recall or know what that is, you fail at education. D:
What? The Book of the Law? Liber AL vel Legis? What?
IT'S NOT MY FAULT, I TELL YOU. NOT MY FAULT. ››;; They always do this to me.
-
-
THE LAW BOOK OF TAKINO TOMO
-
-
Tomo actually sat fumbling behind her desk during the first ten-minute break period of that morning. With much earnest, too— her legs bounced in all directions as if a puppeteer were working them on stage while screaming at his wife who'd come for the signatures on divorce papers she'd filed for herself; her arms wriggled as if she needed a piss from a fifty-two grams' worth of sugar-water in the first fifteen minutes into class; and her eyebrows furrowed, her nose wiggling— generally, there appeared an urgent need to dump the contents lurching about her stomach in any way possible.
Thusly: Chiyo-chan stood over her in apprehension, but was reluctant to make the move, as abuse from such a move was surely impending to follow, hence the initial apprehension rolling about inside her. Yomi stood as straight as a nutcracker on the other side, staring directly forward, glasses hiding her demeanor eerily enough to a point that the young man sitting in her range of sight began convulsing after some while— however, those lips of hers were clearly compressed thin and creased deep in lieu of her desperate fancy of refusing any involvement in the forthcoming catastrophe, as was imminent to arrive. For the simpler reader, she was in an old man's grimace, waiting for his wife to just throw the vase at his face while his soul rotted just a bit more inside as the rest of the china kept narrowly avoiding him just for the torture.
Osaka stood too, blankly.
"Wha's tha matah, Tomo?" she solicited simply— "Ya liken' on someone?"
Chiyo-chan made a noise that failed to sound interested as it fell to a slight whimper when Tomo promptly slammed her hands against the desk, and consequently against the developing cartilage of Chiyo's fingers, too. Classmates hunched over in their desks gave a shudder for the small girl as they were apt to do every few breaks every day, as came into practice when one was forced to continue breathing with Tomo as a classmate. Yomi gave a tense "Ch'!" in gritted empathy. Osaka tipped her head to the side and enunciated a "Haah."
"That's exactly it, Osaka!" exclaimed Tomo— "I'm liking on someone! How awful is that?!"
She appeared very happy, beaming.
Chiyo slowly maneuvered her body to stare at the boy crouched over on the floor, choking, as Tomo's chair had flung back by the force of her abruptly standing, and crushed his body between a neighbor's and his desk, before he slowly, yet without delay, tumbled out. Students fretted around him as specks of blood spattered on the floor.
"Hnm?" continued Osaka. "Lotsa awful, if ya ask me. What'cha gonna do?"
"Donno," answered Tomo with a grin.
"Well, ya don' seem the sorta person who even nota'ces aneh'bodeh' liken' ya," inputted Osaka wisely, "Mostly 'cause nobodeh'd dare to like ya."
"Eh?!" yelled Tomo eagerly; "You think I'm a confronting sorta person?!?"
"That's exactly what you are." Osaka nodded sagely. A collect thought rippled throughout the quieting classroom:
"How awful."
Out in the halls, Kagura strolled back towards the classroom. "Yukari-sensei probably hasn't dragged her ass up the stairs yet, anyway." She gave blissful sigh and smiled satisfactorily. "Ah, the healthy bladder without a thirty-two gram carbonated sugar-water intake—"
That smile unhinged as soon as she'd opened the door and noticed that there was a forty degrees drop inside her classroom in comparison to the halls. "Oh, that's right… you're not allowed to be the last person back in class when Tomo's your classmate…" All eyes bore on her, pitying. "Ah damn this—"
Tomo spun, backhanding another young man in the process. There was a crack as he brought his head back forward, a quake trekking down his body, and a tear trickling down his left eye.
"KAGURA!" Tomo shouted enthusiastically, "LET ME GROPE YOUR MELONS!"
The athletic ascendancy Kagura'd been working her entire life towards fell to nothing as Tomo clambered over desks voraciously to reach her. Her mind processed naught but "Grope," and "Melons," reiterating again and again incessantly without end or aim, echoing till the voice malformed to that of Oiwa's, and she was liable to scream all the way to the office just to save the personnel the effort of getting to her themselves.
Regrettably, Tomo's protracting fingers found the path to her full, firm breasts first, and squeezed.
Kagura delivered a kick that sent Tomo hurtling to the air above, before the girl's body promptly crash-landed in the mid-row of desks.
Yomi interrupted the following stillness.
"Ohgoddammit run Kagura, RUN— JUST— RUN!"
— For a drawl came from the disordered yet clambering body of Tomo once more: "KAA- gu- raa—"
Kagura began a dash for the office, damning the class as she fled, with Tomo following close behind. There was awhile, before the shrieks of the condemned girl shook the school—
"Dammitdammitdammit TOMOletgoOFMYMELONS!"
Nobody in the classroom made a move or sound, except for Osaka, who found her way around the haphazard, fallen desks in the mid-row, and sat down on her chair, pronouncing:
"He-hehe. Tha' was some fun."
A collect thought rippled throughout the restrained and muted classroom:
"How awful."
Half a minute later, Yukari-sensei came in, wholly composed and seemingly ignorant of the goings on outside the pocket of calm in her mind's eye—
"Are? Takino Tomo ain't here either?" she ticked her pen up the roster— "Um, that's Kazuma-kun and Kagura-san and Abe-kun. Makes four. Huh."
"Uwahuwah letgoletgo letgo TO- MOO uwaahh—" rang the reverberations from the other side of the school.
Yukari wordlessly set a cross by the girl's name.
-
-
END
-
-