Pride and Pests

Keiko hadn't seen Yusuke in a good three months. Not that it kept her from worrying about him, Keiko thought bitterly while exchanging glares with the mid-morning sun. Coffee untouched and notebook entry unfilled, she used her arm as a pivot for her swaying mind. Quite conspicuously and garbed in torn jeans, a sleeveless T, and blue lens glasses he made way to her classroom. He plopped right in the seat in front of her offering her no explanation but a simple wave. Masking her face with rude nonchalance, she turned her gaze toward the window and there it remained for a good half-hour. Class went on, debates (white-collared squabbles he called them) were heard, juvenile remarks were ignored (by her anyway, Yusuke slugged the guy) as was the coaxing deliberately sugared voice of her heart, and though she melted slightly by the sight of his glowing reflection Keiko was utterly fixated on providing more ice for her cold shoulder.

Yet every so often when she shifted her attention to the lecture, she caught ear of quiet snoring. As was proper (and borderline compulsive) Keiko was compelled to persuade (hit him) and tell (order) him to go anywhere else-to leave her with her worms, books, and quill and stop drooling all over her notebook! He hadn't outgrown his delinquency at all. The moron was still an unabashed impervious jerk with about twenty or so screws loose. It didn't help that she loved him; that she willingly participated in an on and off romantic farce. Consoled by banshee voiced teenagers, Yusuke inspired a great number of essays that led to the male population to call her not only a prude but a castrator. Also all those loyal admirers seemed to "mysteriously" disappear. Some said she picked them off one by one and hung them up on her trophy wall. Jokingly of course, but still aggravating. Was it her fault if she attracted accident prone fools?

By the time she finished her musings, the first bell rang and she quickly began to gather her things. She reached for her last textbook only to have the simpleton beat her to it. "I've got this," he said drearily. And then, the most catastrophic event occurred. It seemed to happen in slow motion. The audacious creep took a sip of her coffee-spilled it-then had to nerve to say, "too much sugar." But that wasn't all, he laid one on her-and when she said one, she meant one hard, slobbery open-mouthed kiss.

Her Child Psychology Professor who hectored Keiko over her "abandonment issues" would hardly be as flabbergasted as a piercing echo stilled a portion of the room. Everyone, save the victim and offender, was horrified. Justified on account of spousal ferocity it seemed imperative that the dogs be called on and the idea caused her to regret her spasm for a second before turning on her heel and exiting with mock gravity. Discipline averted (curtsey of the introverted yellow bellied management instructor), Keiko stalked toward her next class not missing the hushed footsteps behind. Head bent and empty arms crossed she tried to ignore the unsavory gossip of her peers to no avail.

"Don't tell me they fought again."

"Really they need to just break up already."

Next they, predictably, remarked on his alleged yazuka status and the leniency of school security. Without reason except for malice gave reproach to his slicked hair all the way down to his belt buckle, never missing a beat. Always so shallow and in need of emotional compensation, the jury condemned him to an image of baseness, unfit to lick a toilet. As a child Keiko had been taught to never cast judgment on anyone without hardcore evidence. Going with the gut, as her father said, is just what the soon to be gutless do. Knowing Yusuke's temper that seemed about right.

However, he did nothing. Of course Yusuke didn't always lash out, but that had been the longest she had known him to endure such treatment without so much as a death glare as retribution. A pinnacle of patience, Yusuke followed her through hallways and crowded stairways. The worst Yusuke did was lightly step on the back of someone's heel.

"Very tsuntsun today aren't we, Yukimura san," greeted the shrink, "Urameshi san look what I have." The pudgy silver-haired woman hobbled over a stained bed sheet and pulled on it. Underneath was an old but usable desk. "Vuala! Now you don't have to sit on the windowsill and knock over my plants."

Keiko sent him a sideways glance as he sat down getting rather comfy. What had he been doing sitting on the poor woman's windowsill?

"Don't look at me like that," he said crisply folding his arms on the desk.

"Yes, he did replace them after all," the woman said as she gingerly folded the fabric, "It must have been a real trial; you can't find them anywhere in this area."

"It was nothing, I just have friends with green thumbs."

The two laughed and Keiko felt inclined to twitch. Wordlessly she snatched the books off the ancient desktop and sat in the fine, not rusted, desk that just so happened to be in front of his. Giddily, the woman remarked on their rumored marital status and how lovely they fit together, like plum and vinegar. Quirkily she told them if they weren't already "pickled in their sorry plight", she'd have given them some. No offense was taken because the woman could not cook to save her life and it was a miracle she hadn't committed culinary suicide.

Nonetheless the woman was a good informant and her lectures were easy to swallow despite all her oddities. Also the female professor only had three rules: don't talk while she was talking, don't fail, and don't snore. She wacked a student over-top his head once for doing the latter and he earned her animosity ever since. Having such flexible rules allowed the pupils to do whatever they desired including listening to music or doodling. Reverse psychology and all no one really took advantage of the liberation (didn't help that the tests were hard), except Yusuke who really wasn't a student there to begin with and thus excused. He left a good three times, each time returning with some vending machine treat. The jerk didn't even share.

Worst of all he kept staring at her accusingly as if she was the one who left a ten second recording on his voice mail. "Sorry Keiko I can't go with you today, I've to got to go to demon world, tell everyone I said bye. I'll be back when I can." Or something equally inconsiderate as that. No forewarning, just poof. Life wasn't a magic show, he couldn't pull a houdini every other week and expect a welcome back smooch. If he insisted on popping in and out of her life at least give her a mallet so she could enjoy a game of whack-a-fool on the side. Really.

Slapping him wasn't part of her plan, as makeshift it was, and Yusuke was undoubtedly a little ticked off. Hence the holes burned into her back. Near to no one was doubtful that they were the effects of a husband scorned and, though being scum, rightfully so. After a few minutes of sobered recollection Keiko solemnly agreed. Except for one thing- they weren't married! Not even close to it, Keiko reckoned. Imagine it, giving him the rest of her life. She wasn't some wide-eyed future bride who gave her goods to any gallant. The only thing heroics did for Yusuke was put him in an early grave. That made her nose drip and she didn't want it all over her term papers.

Yusuke remained indomitable and in-between glaring at her and eating would create horrible napkin origami. The only thing more stained than that napkins was his reputation. It seemed as if she was the only one irked and miffed by his presence. The tables turned quickly and Keiko realized that she was on the receiving end his version of the silent treatment. The two couldn't even exchange glances. They were more estranged than earlier and once again a one-sided hostility presented itself. What's his problem, Keiko thought. It couldn't be that she slapped him. He'd have gotten over it. As a matter a fact, Yusuke seemed dandy afterward, not enthused but not prissy either. Completely apathetic, he followed her. Not until they got into the hallway...

Keiko blinked.

"Okay class, it's a good seven minutes to the bell," her professor informed, "My mouth is getting dry. Free time kiddies." Her shaky hand squeezed the water bottle with all its might, watering the wrinkled cavern. Putting it down, she limped toward the duo. All that standing made her bones creak.

"This is when you're supposed to talk and lick tonsils." She winked then moved toward the rugged, tired eyed boy in the desk beside hers. "I see you've got a new set of nose plugs," the woman said severely, "Too bad you didn't get one for that big hole in your head, huh sunny?"

Yusuke chuckled to himself, but quieted when Keiko faced him. Instead of asking him what was the matter, she gave an emotionless, "Are you going to follow me all day?" They stared at one another for a moment or two before she continued, "What do you want from me?" It was a plea masked by contempt, nothing that they hadn't shared before, but he ignored her attempts at reconciliation. Hurt, she turned around.

Stupid coffee spilling, kiss forcing, stalking junk artist! Seaweed eating cactus brain-darn it, she forgot to write down her homework. It was then that she noticed one of her pens was missing. Where could it have gone to?

Keiko felt someone tap her shoulder. Turning around she saw a cheese and ink stained napkin. Squinting she tried to make sense of it all. What. cheese stain. Do. smudge. Want. another cheese stain. From. saliva. Me?

Just like that, he walked out the door. Keiko sat there for a few seconds baffled. He approached her after he left and went and did gods know what and she was in the wrong? Why couldn't he be blunt as usual and tell her what the heck she did that was so wrong!

Arg!

"Yukimura san."

"Uh?"

"If you wouldn't mind, could you add some dere to your tsuny demeanor?"

Looking down she noticed that half the desk top was missing. "I'm so sorry!"

"I'll get the glue."

After all the mess had been sorted out, there was still a half hour to her next class. Keiko glared at the coffee in her hand. "Dearie don't forget to take this with you. It's still yours, if you want it. Remember it's not trash unless you say so." The old woman was right. It would be a waste to throw it away when it can be reused.

"Why isn't it Keiko Yukimura." An arm looped itself around her shoulder. "Still beautiful as always I see."

She shrugged him off, literally, and continued on her less than merry way-or attempted to. Keiko and Yusuke had a mutual disdain for the degenerate and Yusuke warned, jokingly, that he was the sole person in all the three worlds she couldn't abandon him for. With sham sadness she agreed and pretended to be upset when the male was used as a dust towel. He was a fairly poor dust cloth, he put out more filth than he accumulated.

"Rumor has it that you dumped the punk."

"Funny I heard that he trashed you."

"Always breaking my heart," he laughed.

"Well what do you expect," the young woman pointed out briskly, "Your face is already broken." Dim-wit walked straight into that one, but had to the nerve to be surprised. Since his parade had been thoroughly rained on, he snapped like a wet cat with all the malevolent chatter but none of the soul crushing venom that it took to put a spiteful dog down. Keiko went right up to him and the two exchanged words and a generator could have been powered with all the sparks flying.

Meanwhile Yusuke was trying to move a salt shaker with his mind. Broke from eating his ever so nutritious breakfast, he didn't have much else to do and he didn't feel like swiping anything from the counter. The only reason he was allowed anywhere on campus was because he saved the headmaster from his undead step-daughter who warped everything into a most twisted variant of Alice and Wonderland. After all the hysterics and gags, he was little impressed by the end of the day. It took one "off with your head" and the brat was suddenly seeing the light. Hell's light that is.

"Lookie here. It's Makai's future ruler," flattered an unsightly pest. The parasite buzzed another compliment his way and Yusuke resisted the urge to flick him off the window and into his neighbor's cappuccino. Eji got on everyone's nerves. It didn't help that he had a masochistic streak. Yusuke figured that the reason he possessed bugs so often was because he got a thrill by being stepped on. But he wasn't the only one with that tendency, he mused.

One minute she loved him. The next she hated his guts. An angel or a devil, he got no intermediate. It was like every word she said was in Morse code and he sure wasn't going to get money for a translator.

"You come to visit the Mrs. today, hm?"

Yusuke didn't not like Eji and had warned him dozens of times to not mention Keiko. Leading a demonic mosquito swarm, the varmint got a taste of her before he did. Before he became his fan-boy all he did was rub his nose in it until he got a foxy friend of his involved who, unluckily for Eji, had a deep prejudice toward his kind. Every time the youko saw him he would be sure to spray him with repellent then stomp on his shell. Next to him, Kurama was his favorite. Yusuke shivered at the thought.

Lifting up the salt shaker, he decided it was time to put the critter out its misery. Having Eji as a moocher was torture. But, Eji disagreed and pleaded, "Wait! Wait!" Yusuke was going to ignore him until he heard, "It's your girl! Your girl is calling you!"

He turned his head and adjusted his hearing. It was Keiko, but she wasn't addressing him.

"And I'm glad Yusuke's not like you! I wouldn't kiss you even if your saliva was the sole moisture on the whole planet you barren skulled low life!"

"Since you love crap so much why don't you get married in a sewer? You and that freeloader of yours can go and have a litter of economy draining terds and they'll never be so full of it as you!"

"It's no surprise you know a lot about sewers you rabies infected rat! If you come near me again, so help me there will be no cure to what I'll do to you. You won't even be fit to be on the bottom of my scum-of-a-boyfriend's shoes."

Yusuke listened in on her haggered breaths.

Keiko marched into the university's cafe with a huff. All eyes were on her. "Don't you guys have work to do," she asked testily. Biting back a smile, she stalked toward him and plopped in the chair across from his. Keiko felt his gaze soften even before she entered. "How are you going to make this up to me? I've leveled up from tsundere to dominatrix. My psychology professor's going to put herself in a stroke from laughing so much."

"This is why I love you."

"Because I put old lady's in caskets?"

The young woman in front of him always gave one hundred percent, no exceptions.

Passionate to a fault, gutsy, purely noncompliant, Keiko gave a guy a lot to think about. Miraculously unscathed by perpetual danger and going to great measures to thwart it made a certain guy think about marrying her.

Close friends and family were the only ones with knowledge of her faulty grandeur. Most mistook those firm footsteps as a show of superiority, but really she was just peppered with optimism. Not most popular girl in school, but sure dang close to it, Keiko always managed to help others and keep getting decent grades. Did she make mistakes? Between mistaking her sleeve as a handkerchief and running out the door without a jacket in the dead of winter, she was not immune to making one hundred other mistakes. Hardly anyone knew and reasonably so because she treated everything as if it were a business (except when it's actually a business, according to her father). Headstrong and sometimes thickheaded, Keiko would work herself to the bone in a way only a perfectionist could.

Being so close to her action filled heart made one prone to be the source of her anxiety which led to slaps, punches, harsh remarks, and occasionally a shoulder that could freeze hell.

But mostly it resulted in unwavering affection and unceasing devotion. Whoever distributed kindness to her would be given it in return. Unless that person is the source of her anxiety because they'll need to be thawed out first.

Classmates joked about how hardcore she could be, but they really had no idea.

Keiko decided that it was time for a snack and ordered a small meal for the two of them to share. That meant Yusuke scarfing it down and her nibbling every so often. Yusuke, to her, had many faces. Most of the time he was laid back other times he was doped on weekly adrenaline itching for gods know what. The male zigzagged between being a hustler to a professional of sorts. Morals a tad on the gray side, but good intentioned (mostly) Yusuke won over many people, eventually. As Kuwabara put it, though he was pretty much a demon, literally, he wasn't as beastly and untamed than before they started down their journey into adulthood. Unexpectedly, Yusuke was a lot more down to earth than she who strove to be what society considered a productive adult.

Along with willfulness, the couple have other striking similarities. Loyalty is one of their top values. Trash-talking loved ones is a big no, if the person doesn't want to be chewed out. If a likable person is in desperate need of a coverup, lie for them. Furthermore when being dealt with they want the other party to give all they're capable of giving. Also, they despise secrecy. Intimate and stranger do not go together for a reason.

Which was why, Yusuke had been so upset with her. He had been halfheartedly scorned. That look was almost an exact replica of the one had wore in their middle-school days.

"You know, I don't think you're scum Yusuke," Keiko began, "A jerk, yes, but not scum."

"Thanks," he said with a broad grin. "Guess what."

"What?" Keiko asked.

"I told you to guess."

Sighing, Keiko leaned back in her seat. "You're going back to demon world."

His eyes flickered, but he responded, "Nope."

"You've got that new apartment."

"Closer."

"You've got a girlfriend to move in the apartment with?"

His mood was officially spoiled. Yusuke thought the spat was over, but was obviously still sore about something. Looking down at the table he eyed her left hand as he had done earlier that morning. Empty. A sign of a love run cold. "Keiko..."

Eyes downcast, she refused to look at him. No, Keiko was no longer mad, but was finally allowing herself to revel in the bittersweet reunion.

Three months with no contact. No comparison to the half year she spent without him, but at least then she could have prepared for the travesty. When she wasn't helping in the diner, checking in on Atsuko, hanging with friends, and doing scholarly things Keiko would listen to songs on the radio and think of him and dreaded the word of his death. She didn't want him to suddenly walk out of her life, not telling her where and why he was going or when he'd come back. At first it was a regular occurrence but ever since then it manifested as a borderline phobia and like everything else that bothered her, she acted as if it had no affect on her at all. If she played her cards right, she might even delude herself. But it would come out in odd ways to haunt her and and that enraged her.

"What's the matter with you?" Yusuke half-yelled, folding his arms over his chest. He wanted to say it softer, but her pride wouldn't allow him to do so. Perhaps that was the reason she wouldn't wear his charm. Already a sophomore in college, Keiko had proven numerous times to be a big girl. Although Yusuke insisted he came to her school to make sure she wasn't committing adultery the real reason was because he was worried.

Knowingly Keiko gave a lopsided smile at his consideration, "Sorry. We haven't seen each other in so long and all I can do is act like this."

Lightening up a little, he continued as he ate, "I've got everything covered. It's a pretty big place and you can put at least a dozen Enkis in there. You 'member who Enki is?"

Keiko nodded. Yusuke had mentioned that though he had no intention of running demon world, he'd make sure no lunatic knocked Enki off his pedestal.

"The bathroom's not so hot though," Yusuke admitted somberly but then cheered just before he said," kitchen's superb, you're gonna love it. Mom was steamin' when she laid eyes on it. But I told 'er there was no way she's movin' in. That freeloader!"

Keiko chuckled at the mention of Atsuko. She was the wildest and free spirited person she knew and probably bested Yusuke in unpredictability.

Curious, Keiko looked at her wrist watch. She only had only had five minutes to get to class. On cue the warning bell rang throwing Yusuke out of his rant and Keiko in total disarray. Darn it, she thought.

"Oh my go-"

Another kiss. Light and teasing, but definitely, not slobbery.

He massaged her cheek and opened one eye to peak at a squirming leg. Foiled again (and happy for it), Eji uttered weak pardons. Feebly he wiggled underneath the weight of Yusuke's thumb, but his shell was no cockroach just a hardy fly and with a little pressure he could feel the life slowly draining from the critter. Yusuke kept pressing, against Keiko's protest, until there was no hope of revival and Eji's true form snaked away.

Keiko's cheek sore, red, and pulsing and his eye blacker than night sparked question of who just was the lead in the masochistic tango of theirs.

As many times he apologized, Yusuke never did tell her there was bug guts on her face.