Hello0! I bring good tidings from the lands of academia! As gifts, I bear sleepless nights and pounds upon pounds of research homework – as well as jugs of coffee, which I've decided to stop drinking. It just makes me feel bloody horrible. Inside and out. But regardless of my own personal conflicts, I also come bearing the gift of a story. This be-eth the first chapter to what I hope I will be able to finish within 2-3 installments. As per usual, please take pity and mercy on my continuous, recurrent and never-ending trips to the forsaken land of academia – I still search daily and nightly for the hidden treasures; dost thou not know that it taketh decades to breach? Aye, I'm afraid it doth.
LOL, yeah, I'm busy and headed towards premature senility; oh well, enjoy!
"Is that supposed to be a challenge, Hiruma-kun?"
"It can be whatever you want, but I believe you know very well what I want, fucking manager."
As with every morning, Hiruma and Mamori had begun their day with quarrels, threats and wagers. What happened to be different about this morning was that Mamori had gotten so fed up with listening to his childish idiocies about ghost stories, ands scaring the whits out of poor Sena, who had very little to begin with. Her rage and exasperation had crossed a border like never before: she was taking on a dare from Hiruma. And not just any dare to be precise; oh no, this was a dare that threatened the very sanity and well-being the manager needed to be made capable of confronting her worst adversaries: her university exams.
You see, Hiruma is one who knows just how to provoke the most unprovokable. He hit Mamori in such a sensitive spot, that he just knew she would be unable to back down. After terrorizing his friends with ghost stories and horrendously theatrical taunts, Hiruma was able to harvest from Mamori the most primal of all womanly virtues: the need to defend the weakest of her flock. As per usual, she had thoughtlessly dived into Sena's aid, protesting vigorously, and unthinkingly falling right into the brunt of Hiruma's master plan. To set the minds of her frightened team mates at ease, she had blindly walked into the very mine field that had been instated by the devil quarterback himself, and detonated one hell of a blast. She had agreed to spend a week in a haunted house.
Now, the general prospect of a haunted house does not sound too terrifying, especially not to one Anezaki Mamori. Because ghosts didn't exist. She knew it, Hiruma knew it, and every bloody person on this planet who had an ounce of logic in them knew it very well. However, that being said, Mamori still had genuine worry coursing through her veins. The reason? This was a haunted house chosen and, most possibly designed, but Hiruma. The initial conflict did not lay in the fact that she would be tormented by Hiruma for the entirety of a week via shabby costumes and movie effects in a possibly shabbier shack. Oh no, that would be no problem at all. She had made herself immune to horror masks and theatrical binges of terror by having to face the wrath of one Hiruma Youichhi on a daily basis. What had her worrying is the following:
The week after her stay at Hotel Hiruma (she so cleverly satirized it) she has due a term paper, lab report, lab exam, three course exams, class quiz, in-class essay and a class presentation. Exactly in that order. And her study time will be compromised by the childish antics of none other than Hiruma. That was the true horror hidden within this adventure. For to Mamori, nothing was more important than maintaining and A+ average for her University studies (which is precisely why she had avoided any art courses for her electives – she didn't need to be dragged down by such lowly grades as Bs).
All in all, it was going to be a troublesome week for Mamori. After the tiring hours of American Football practices, rather than going home to a nice, quiet work desk, she would go to a haunted shack of Hiruma's choosing (deprived of the luxury of having the independence for establishing her own haunted house!) and muster as much patience as she possibly could to survive through that week.
This was going to be a nightmare.
And yes, Mamori's homework schedule (to lightly put it) somewhat parallels mine. Hmmm . . . I wonder why? Could it be that I'm a self-centered egotist? Nah, that's impossible! :P
R & R please! :):)