It makes you wonder…What goes exactly on the mind of a serial killer…A serial killer like Genocider Syo. What started it? When? How? Why? A living mystery…

He crosses his arms, closes his eyes, his whole being brimming with royalty. Yet, he is conscious; nerved by the nonexistent pressure that is put on his back by that fiery gaze. It feels like death is stalking him. It always felt that way. Though, it literally is the embodiment of death staring at him. Nevertheless, he's as composed as ever, his emotions intact. If it were anybody, they might have gone insane by now. But he's different. It's as if he was truly suited for it, born for it. He takes pride in that.

Most of the time, he ignores her. She doesn't seem to mind, though she's ecstatic whenever he glances at her direction, glaring or not. Somehow, she likes it that way. Well, it has always been that way. For him and for the other countless guys she had liked, err, obsessed with. No words, no interactions. Then, BOOM. The guy is dead. Sweet isn't it? A love story worth telling. But she ain't killing this guy any time soon. She's not done yet. Hell, she hasn't even started yet. Then she remembers, she never had the need to start anything. Not in the past. Not tomorrow. It's only this one, by far the longest she has loved, err, liked, err…wanted. Oh? So she wants him? Well, that's new. Meh, who cares! She'll end up killing him anyways.

"What are you thinking? Rather, what are you scheming…crazy, disgusting woman." He cornered her one day, out of the blue. She smiles at him, not so genuinely. He just stares at her, as if the answers can be found in her eyes. Ahh…she could just die happily right now.

He's tall, she thought. He has fair complexion. His hair is light brown and silky. His eye lashes are long. His lips are kind of pale. His eyes are blue, the kind of blue that she finds beautiful. His breath smells, well, she can't smell anything so I guess it's accepted as good breath? Damn, is this far better than just staring at his back all day! Alas, this is quite the discovery. Hm? Is she drooling?

"Tsk. You're annoying. And creepy. And just downright ugly." If it were Fukawa Touko who is hearing these words from him, she must be having an orgasm right now. But no, unlike her other personality, Genocider Syo doesn't take insults quite well. Sure, she likes it when it comes from a hot guy but really, she's fucking annoyed by it. Especially when some snotty-nosed spoiled brat, Togami Byakuya to be specific, is telling her off. It just…makes her want to…gut out their stomachs and strangle them with their own intestines. Or something like that.

He offers her a handkerchief. Cocky bastard he may be but he knows his manners all too well. Not really, actually. But he lets her wipe her drool with the expensive cloth. What, did he grow fond of her or something? Hah! Impossible. She's nothing but a pawn in his eyes. A tool to use. A servant to order. A slave to abuse.

Yet, why…?

She returns the used cloth, he refuses. She throws it, walks away, a hand grabs her wrist. She glares at him, a glare that could bring terror to anyone, the glare of a psychotic killer. She let the tip of the scissor she is holding touch the skin on the back of his neck. Is this it?! Is it time for the fever to strike again? The Bloodbath Fever. Surprisingly, he just stood still, calm demeanor and all. She looks at him, deciphering his façade, failing because there never was one to begin with. She raises her brow, her mind in confusion. Why is he not afraid? Why is he not scared? What the hell? What the hell? What the hell? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK?!

Ah…She can't understand this man. She gives up.

She drops the deadly weapon, the sound of it hitting the floor reverberated all over the room. He felt her hand, which was unusually soft(?) unlike what he imagined, touch his head. She pats his head while laughing. Laughing maniacally, long tongue stretched out, dangling. She looks hideous.

"Crazy bitch! Stop it!" He took a hold of her wrist once again. He had always been quite sensitive about someone touching him and the same goes with him touching someone. But he's fine touching her…?

She continued to laugh. Is this what they call, "laughing like there's no tomorrow?"

"Crazy bitch? Hah! And here I thought you're all royalty and shit like that! You should call me with a fancier name like 'psychopath'! It's what people call me!" She pulls out scissors out of nowhere, pointing at him.

He stares. And he stares. And he stares. His eyes are glued to this crazed entity in front of him. He can't look away. He won't . He doesn't want to. What a strange human being, he thought. Well, it sure took him a while to notice that. Somehow, he feels weird. Lighter.

"Psychopaths can't love." He took a step. And another. And another. He's really close to her now. He brings his hands to her cheeks, which was unusually soft(?) unlike what he imagined.

"And you're obviously in love with me." And he pinched her. Hard. He, Togami Byakuya, Super High-School Level Heir, pinched Genocider Syo, the Super High-School Level Murderer, in the cheeks and hell yeah he lived to tell the fucking tale.

She was caught in complete surprise. She really can't understand this guy…and she doesn't plan to. He's a walking mystery. Ah, what a coincidence...They're just the same.

He flicks her forehead, earning a grunt from the victim. He snickered, unconsciously. Uh, he just smiled didn't he? To her.

Hah! Love, he says? Hahahahaha! The boy interests her to no end! Ah she swears she'll dig a scissor down that bastard's throat someday. Nah, she doesn't like him anymore. She has decided he's not her type. He won't be worth killing. She twirled a scissor on her hand as she stared at Togami's retreating back. She snickered, unconsciously. Uh, she just smiled didn't she? To him.

Her days of stalking a rich heir and one hell of a snotty-nosed brat has ended. His days of being stalked by an eccentric and one hell of a serial killer has ended.

She bounced ecstatically on the hallways, spinning a scissor on her hand. He walked calmly, arms crossed over his chest, his whole being brimming with royalty. Their footsteps form a wrecked rhythm as they walk through the halls, side by side.