She stepped on his sheets.

He never made such big deals about those sorts of things. It wasn't as if she pranced across his previously neat work in a blood-crazed orgy, stamping on the sheets as if putting out a particularly violent fire. It wasn't deliberate and one could tell as her face twisted into surprise when the crunch echoed out.

"Oh, sorry."

The words were merely stated in a rather kind but rushed manner. He couldn't help but blink up. She was pretty. How apparent it was that he had no power for description and saying that to her was an understatement. Yes, he did notice her... 'Figure'. The adolescent preferred to think his brain was not in his pants but he was still a young man. However, the way her crimson hair cascaded down her back akin to a waterfall and the way her large, glistening eyes glanced down at him was also... 'pretty'. Now though she just seemed to be confused.

There was the self conscious fact he had been staring for a while and the adolescent could only flush red at his own stupidity. He avoided her gaze and noticed that, alas, for the last few moments he had merely been shuffling sheets while glancing up at her. There was the violent mess he had created when the young teenager had tripped. It seemed like he had been attacked by the Jack the Ripper of stationary, the stacks of work splaying out of his folder in a way easily compared to that of a murderer victim's disembodied organs.

"Why don't you just use your powers?"

There was a perfectly innocent smile on her face and he couldn't help but glance at her. He felt himself blushing again and he shook his head, merely replying," I... It wouldn't be much use here."

What did she expect? For him to have the mysterious and wonderful gift of paper manipulation? A small part of him wanted to say that in the mood of wit but that would have been decisively out of character. She still seemed to find what he said funny anyway, perhaps in the pathetic, sympathizing way. Giggling she just smiled turning around to walk away merely stating," Well, see you later then."

He watched wander off into the crowd of high schoolers, lugging a musical instrument case behind her. 'See you later'? The purple haired one wanted to repeat the words out loud as if the idea in its self was ludicrous. Shuffling the papers messily into his folder he sighed; the adolescent would most probably not see her again. Nor would she offer to help him kindly or when he accepted such a hypothetical offer neither of them would burst into song, dance upon tables when tidying the chaos and ask politely if they wanted to run away to Mexico together. That may have been getting rather carried away though and the boy sighed once again at the author's ridiculous train of thought, picking up the now roughly organized folder and slinging a messenger bag over his shoulder. This was reality, however. Busty and beautiful girls that were kind enough to assist short purple haired teen like Simon did not exist. It was the just mentioned boy who then walked, getting rather absorbed into the crowd and stepping out of the high school. Or rather, as most people called it, a 'Gifted Academy'. For those with super powers.

This was no big deal , as everyone had superpowers anyway. Perhaps that sounded a little ludicrous. However, it was common among households. All children were at least able to use such powers from a young age. Tales of those without powers were formally unheard of, but there were always rumours on the streets about those born without powers themselves and word of giant, metallic monsters. However, such things were dismissed easily. He could hear people whispering about it at the back of the bus when he boarded. Just people fantasizing; after all, nothing was said about that in the newspapers. After all, a rather pompous man who Simon had boarded had one; the man had dashed to the nearest available and only seat. The newspaper was now levitating in front of him, a faint, light purple aura enshrouding it as the page turned. Simon fought the urge to roll his eyes. Telekinetic show off.

Powers were merely a daily fact of life though. Elements were common; people merely flicked their hands to wash dishes with water and a mere flick of one's fingers could set something a light. Or, just merely flying to work.

He certainly could not fly and he had to dash off the bus before the doors shut. With almost a leap out he landed against the cracked pavement, panting heavily as the doors lay politely open for several more seconds then closing most slowly, perhaps just to spite him.

Simon didn't want to recall how pointless that dash was and instead glared up at the purple that most described 'the sky'. The sickly colour looked like it had been hurled up by a child who had eaten a particularly disagreeable violet crayon. Hence the sun barely peaked through and only artificial globes lit up at the city. The whole town looked incredibly unflattering and he stood outside what assisted with the image; a rather ugly looking set of apartments. The windows stuck out like rotten teeth, an attempt at a paint job seemed seem like a rather horrific set of dentures. With that flattering mental image he entered the building, the automatic doors shuddering open as if reluctant to let him in. His eyes wandered on, considering the option whether to risk his life in the elevator (several memory scarring events had occurred in it). Betting his luck on the stairs he heaved himself up, wondering why the power supply in the city was so schizophrenic by choice. The lights on the staircase flickered erratically as he continued up.

Perhaps this would have been credited to the fact he lived in a rather shady part of the city anyway. Simon could have considered himself lucky compared to some of the other people that lived...

His trail of thought was stopped as he jarred the key in the door most violently, attempting to open it. However it was rather stubborn and only after a few minutes of scrabble the door swung open, almost crashing into the wall. Its course was stopped as it waded through constant trash. This included empty cups of instant ramen, newspapers and for some reasons even burnt remains. The blare of the television was apparent about all else. It was on the news surprisingly, something about those worthless expeditions into the sky. Simon froze; it was never on the news. Turning to the worn down yellow sofa the adolescent blinked twice at the person reclining out on it. The older male, who couldn't have been more then eighteen, glanced up at him from playing with a lighter. Dark red eyes brightened, a slight grin appearing on this certain other's face. At this Simon couldn't help but smile back, although no where near as strong.

"H-hey... Kamina."

Author Note: Finished oh God this perhaps has to be one of the most horrendous things I have ever written.

However, I just got the idea after watching a constant stream of Darker than Black and then wrote it up whilst in an adventure in Rome. When typing it up it shamed me but the Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann fanfiction is so... Naked.

Plus, I'll just update it anyway. I've got chapters stuck in my head, some written up but it depends what feedback there is. So please, review? Even if it's just 'LOL', as un-'lol'-ish as this fanfiction is. There is the small possibility that I have no idea gift wise for Yoko.