Author's note: Hi, guys, this is my first fic! So pleaaasseeee be nice and R & R, so that I know whether you like it or not and what I should improve on! (: I'd really appreciate suggestions/criticism, but if you flame, well, I guess that's your time, not mine. Sorry for any bad English and stuff ):
P.S. I have a few pairings in mind but I can change them so yup, tell me what you think! Here goes~
***
"DAMMIT!"
Reno kicked the locker door, hard, and earned an aching toe for his effort. He hopped around, clutching his fast-swelling right foot and spewing five minutes worth of unprintable obscenities.
"Bloody thing..." he hissed angrily, rummaging frantically in his pockets again. Money, biscuit crumbs, used tissues, a broken comb, fluffy lint. Well, at least there was practically nothing his pockets didn't have.
Except his locker key. Now he had to carry a large sack of books around, on his first day at school.
"This couldn't get possibly any worse," he moaned.
"Hey, Reno!" called a girl's voice. It was Yuffie, hurrying towards him with great enthusiasm.
He sighed. "But it just did."
"What's up, Reno?"
"What makes you think there's anything up, yo?" he growled back, deciding to make up for his terrible start by giving everyone else a terrible start as well.
"Your face is as red as your hair."
"Is it?" That was saying something. Probably that he looked like an overripe tomato.
Yuffie, meanwhile, had drawn the connection between Reno's grouchiness and the large dent in the metal door.
"You can share my locker, if you want."
Reno blinked.
"Okay..." He said cautiously, and followed her over to stuff his belongings in with more force than was necessary. Yuffie slammed the door shut and grinned.
That was a bad sign.
"But in return, I get to sit next to you!" She announced cheerily.
Reno spluttered loudly, his toe suddenly beginning to throb again.
"That – wasn't – you –"
"Or I might forget to let you take your stuff back," she smiled sweetly. She grabbed his hand and pulled him along the corridor.
"Come on, today is going to be awesome!"
Reno disagreed.
***
A morning person is someone who wakes up with a smile, enjoys the warmth of the sun and the twittering of the birds, and eagerly anticipates the coming day.
A non-morning person is someone who wakes up wishing he hadn't, would like a room without windows and wants to vaporize the tweeting monsters with a flamethrower.
Kadaj was not a morning person.
His first thought was, where's the coffee and his second, I'm going to bash Yazoo up for leaving the curtains open.
His brothers were sitting at the table when he stumbled in in a daze, groped for the steaming cup and spilt half of it down his shirt. By the time he finished howling in pain, throwing the mug across the room and blowing furiously down his shirt, he was sufficiently awake to notice what he'd just done.
Loz and Yazoo weren't unduly ruffled. They'd seen worse days.
"Um, Kadaj," began Loz. "I know you're... drowsy, but we're going to be late for school."
"To hell with school," Kadaj scowled, and then did a double-take.
"WHAT SCHOOL? I DON'T SCHOOL, LOZ. I DON'T NEED SCHOOL."
"I'm afraid you do," said Yazoo mildly, watching the scene impassively as Kadaj stared at him with bloodshot eyes. He feared his baby brother was suffering from caffeine withdrawal symptoms.
"No. No. I can add, I can subtract, I can spell! School. S-K-O-O-L, okay, now can we drop the subject?"
"That was wrong," corrected Loz sternly. "School is spelt S-K-H-U-U-L. Let's go."
***
It was well known that there was some sort of rivalry between the principal and vice-principal of our protagonists' school. For years, Sephiroth had gone without promotion and for years, he had thus sought to overthrow Rufus Shinra as headmaster.
All his plans had failed. Shinra may have been more concerned about his next hair appointment than whether his students were a half-crazed bunch of morons, but that didn't mean he was stupid.
This term, though, was going to be different. No more mister nice guy. No more buying of Cheerios for Shinra in the hopes it would please him. His superior wouldn't even touch them, no matter how strong the cravings were, so that he didn't feel indebted to Sephiroth, and so that he could minimize the risk of being mysteriously poisoned.
Striding down the hall, he noticed a blond student with hair styled in spikes. Rufus would be wanting to know what brand of gel he used.
"Cloud Strife," he said imperiously. "Why aren't you heading to class?"
"I don't know where I'm supposed to go," he mumbled to the floor.
This was Sephiroth's chance to demonstrate his responsibility and care for his pupils. He snatched the timetable and glanced at it.
"You're right outside the room, Cloud, you confused idi – I mean, you poor lost child."
"Oh. Thanks, sir."
And off he trudged, leaving Sephiroth standing there, slightly bemused. That boy had a way of making everyone in his vicinity feel depressed. Like the world was all sadness and dreariness and greyness and...
Sephiroth shook his head to clear it. He couldn't let Cloud's gloomy aura get to him. Think happy thoughts, he told himself, and imagined himself at Rufus' hospital bedside, with the other man tendering his own resignation.
Now that felt good.
