This story has absolutely no point. Unless I'm suddenly struck with a brilliant idea on how to end it, for now it has no plot line. Just here for collections of my excess ideas that built over time.
07.28.13: Edited
One more minute.
Just one more minute and she can finally get out of this extremely boring, redundant, tedious lecture.
She understood the whole lesson last week, and the week before that, and way before that. Sure, review was indeed important, but honestly? It wasn't even sticking anymore.
Yukari sighs, her cheek resting on the palm of her left hand, her right hand occupied with twirling her mechanical pencil between her thin fingers. She blows a stray strand of ecru from her face.
It's boiling. Summer's just around the corner.
Glancing at the white clock above the classroom's door, she continues to burn holes through it.
Ten seconds,
She counts in her head, eyeing it vehemently as if her glare would make its hands tick any faster. She doesn't understand how seconds seem to go so slowly.
Five,
Yukari's already packing her binder in her blue bag, stuffing her worn-out utensils in her pencil case.
One.
She's already standing from her seat when the door slams open, reeling in a breathless student; her hair is unkempt, auburn strands sticking out messily about on her cream-like face.
Ding.
Class was supposed to be over, but everyone remained seated as the student council president; Mitsuru Kirijo, followed in after the new face.
Yukari mutters curses under her breath, reluctantly sitting back down and rolls her eyes when fan boys—and fan girls, squealed at the sight of the 'great' Kirijo-senpai. Yukari watches with mild contempt as Kirijo stations herself in front of the class.
Yukari really doesn't want to listen to any more lectures for the day; she had enough.
"What, not gonna chase me around anymore?"
Yukari's eyes shifts quickly back to the girl still near the doorway, her arms crossed and a wicked, smug grin plasters her lips.
She briefly wonders if this girl was crazy, because she was speaking to Mitsuru Kirijo like that and no one speaks to Kirijo like that. Her fans seem to think along the same lines, if the audible growls were any indication.
Kirijo only shakes her head, one hand to her forehead with her eyes shut tight as if to ease a growing headache.
"Arisato, I appreciate your enthusiasm," Kirijo's pair of scarlet stares pointedly at the girl by the door, "but I have no time for this; you've already missed the whole day of classes."
Yukari only gapes as the girl—Arisato, speeds out of the room. She can hear Arisato's voice laced with triumph as she responds with an obnoxious resounding yell.
"Then there's no point in staying!"
Yukari, to her utter amazement, feels slight sympathy for the student council president. Kirijo remains where she is, clearly having no intention of following as Arisato's steps begins to fade.
Kirijo turns back to the class, sending heated glares to those who were chatting and snickering about.
"That," Kirijo sighs, looking extremely exhausted, "is your new classmate. I hope you all would get along."
She doesn't bother staying any longer, stalking off through the door with the clack of her boots echoing down the hall.
Yukari won't acknowledge it, but for once, she's looking forward to tomorrow.
Scratch that.
Yukari doesn't look up from her doodling, knowing exactly what the teacher was writing on that dusty, dirty black board.
Everything is the way it was before the girl showed up—because the girl never showed up.
Just when I thought things would be different.
"Hey, Mitsuru-senpai!" Everyone shoots up from such a voice; it's coming from the halls. "Don't your feet hurt from chasing around in those high-heeled boots?"
"Arisato..." A low, feral growl is the president's only response.
The door slides open and in comes the new girl, hurriedly stealing an empty seat next to Yukari and plops down like a wounded animal.
Yukari is frozen, able to only gawk at the girl next to her as Arisato runs her fingers through her messy locks, untying her pony tail to reveal waves of auburn over her shoulders.
Arisato leans back, her hands busily fixing her unkempt hair as she shoots her new seat mate a once over and an optimistic wink. Yukari reddens at the carmine owner's undivided attention.
"You're cute."
Yukari has no time to respond when the sound of clacking heels resound behind her. Yukari can feel the ferocious animosity practically glaze her back.
It doesn't take much to know who it is; the president's growls sounding closer than she'd like.
"Arisato,"
But the two ladies were flabbergasted when the said girl raised her index finger to her own lips, successfully hushing them; to the chagrin of Kirijo.
"Don't worry Mitsuru-senpai," her tone playful and carefree, and for a moment Yukari admires how brave Arisato was, "you're cuter."
Key words, for a moment.
Yukari felt like throttling this obnoxious girl. When she sees how Kirijo-senpai flushes—from anger, embarrassment or flattery, Yukari has no clue, she couldn't believe how easily this Arisato was able to avoid a lecture from the student council president.
"Are you mad?"
"..."
"I'm sorry if you were offended."
"I wasn't."
"But if it makes you feel better—"
"I don't feel anything!"
"—I prefer cute over someone cuter."
Yukari shakes her head as she rushes to stuff her things quickly in her bag; Arisato looming next to her ever so closely. Doesn't she know personal space?
"Can you like, leave me alone?" Yukari knows this was sort of rude, even for her, but Arisato was seriously getting on her nerves.
Honestly, can't she see that she wasn't in the least bit offended that Kirijo-senpai was cuter than her?
"Sorry, I can't." Yukari glares at those enchanting rubys and she finds it hard to turn away, "I want to bother you."
"Can't you see I'm busy—"
"—Pushing me away?"
And Yukari groans in exasperation, the girl proving to be rather difficult to get rid of. Grabbing her bag, she stomps off—gracefully towards the door, Arisato trailing close behind.
"The name's Minako by the way," Yukari only grumbles in response, striding out of the school. "And I'm hungry." She spins fast and attempts her best 'what the hell?' expression.
Minako only grins at her sheepishly as she rubs the back of her neck, laughing nervously. From the lost, stranded look the girl was giving her, it hit Yukari that Minako was still a transfer student.
Sighing, she leads the girl over to a takoyaki stand, ushering Minako to go and order.
"I'll wait." Minako's looking at Yukari like she's just gone insane—and perhaps she has, but she doesn't dwell too much on it.
When Arisato comes back, she's lifting her chopsticks up to Yukari's mouth and making 'choo-choo' sounds. Yukari wants to slap it away, but the food would fall and that'd be a waste. She glares at Minako's happy, delighted face; the girl unperturbed of the rather cold shoulder.
"What are you doing?"
"Feeding you," and she nudges the chopstick just a little closer to Yukari's lips, the aroma infiltrating the stubborn girl's nostrils.
Her stomach doesn't bother with appearances though and grumbles for the world to hear. She blushes underneath Minako's grinning and expectant gaze.
"Fine," and she begrudgingly opens her mouth for the choo-choo train (says Minako) to come in.
Yukari only shakes her head when Minako ravishes the rest and waves her goodbye. She never noticed how fast time went by.
She doesn't realize she's looking for Minako when she enters the classroom the next day; brown eyes staring at the empty seat beside her. She'll probably be late again, just like yesterday—but it's not like she cares.
Yukari twirls her mechanical pencil between her fingers, constantly eyeing the clock every 10 minutes. She realizes that she's doing so for an incredibly different reason.
Where is she?
The bell already rings and she finds herself having yet to pack; books still open while everyone else already begins to file out the room.
Minako never came today.
Yukari is sort-of-but-not-really expecting an obnoxious voice to greet her once she opens the door to her classroom.
Figures.
The seat next to her is still unoccupied.
The third time, Yukari finally packs her things up just like she would have from the very beginning; already out the door once the bell rings.
She still hasn't shown up.
She honestly doesn't care.
Why would she care about a girl she barely even knew?
Yukari knows she seriously doesn't care about the girl who made her head itch to see her again; for reasons alien to her. It really isn't like she cares enough to bother Mitsuru Kirijo to ask what was going on with Arisato. She was just curious; that's much different from caring.
"Arisato?"
Yukari fidgets under Kirijo-senpai's stern look, her scarlet eyes feeling like they could penetrate her if she gazes long enough.
She only nods as she hears the older girl shuffle papers around her desk. Yukari doesn't want to stay here too long, because it's just so suffocating to be in the same room with Kirijo-senpai—alone.
"I'm sorry, but I don't know where she could be."
She doesn't expect the girl to come by anymore.
It's been a week already anyway.
So when footsteps neared Yukari's desk and someone finally sits on the free chair beside her, she feels relief wash over her when she turns to see who it is.
A carefree grin and warm carmines greet her that early morning, auburn hair messy all over again.
Worry immediately settles in the pit of Yukari's stomach however, at the sight of bruises and bandages and a cut lip. She unconsciously reaches out to caress a cut cheek, flinching back when Minako winces at her light touch.
"Sorry," she says, curious as to how this happened in the first place. Minako reassures her with a shake of her head, leaning back comfortably in her chair; relaxed and content.
"There's nothing to worry about," she chuckles when Yukari grumbles that she isn't even the slightest worried, "did you miss me?"
And Yukari is tempted to say no.
"Unfortunately," Minako quirks an eyebrow and Yukari resists the burning urge to fidget under her crimson gaze, "I did."
And yes, this will be a chapter story. Expect Shoujo-ai.