Title: Not so Typical Fangirls

Author: Comet

Chapter 2 Encounter with an art-obsessed student

A/N: I am so fucking excited to continue this story. It's fucking interesting. (FUCK: Hyde's favorite word) (I am not a Hyde fangirl. I just think it's interesting. XD)

Kusou, I muttered under my breath. I was late for the I-haven't-kept-track time, thanks to the security guard who never failed to make my day by handing me the late slip. Damn, he must be pleased having that as part of his daily routine.

I uttered another string of curses as I filled out the late slip. Damn, why do they to make me fill this out when I'm late almost everyday? I bet they've already memorized my whole name and class, plus my house phone number. I gritted my teeth in annoyance as I looked at the old bastard (i.e., the frigging security guard) smile as he watched me fill out the cursed slip.

Damn, how could my freshman year start off like this?

As I glaringly handed my slip over to the donut-eating bastard (damn, I bet that guard has already tried every flavor of donut you could imagine), I noticed that someone else had turned up. I discreetly sighed in relief because I wasn't the 'latest' student to enter this hellish school. Before I finally made my way to my cursed classroom, I turned my head to see who it was.

Guess who?

The uke of all ukes, and…damn, I don't know how to describe this shounen. All I know is he has eyes like the river and a half-asleep façade. And he's always late. And I mean always. Even on the days when I manage to be in time, he still walks in when everybody is in his respective room. Oh, and his name is Rukawa Kaede of Class 1-10, the super rookie that everyone talks about. He was perfect in every angle, his face smoother than porcelain, and the aura he exudes…damn, it's so irresistible. I definitely have to find the perfect shounen to pair him up with.

There I was again, dreaming of a perfect shounen-ai pairing. Thankfully, it dawned upon me that my hellish homeroom teacher was probably waiting for me to enter the classroom and lavish me with another string of sermons as I stand up in the front, enduring it for a whole five minutes. I abruptly ended my Rukawa fantasy and walked more briskly to my classroom.

Just before I entered my room, Class 1-9, I watched as the too-perfect-for-words Rukawa entered his room in the most kakkoi way you could ever imagine. That princely posture has got to come from his customary basketball practices. When he finally disappeared, I sighed and made my way to my room.

And as I expected, the moment my visage surfaced from the cursed door of the cursed classroom, Komamura-sensei called my name.

"Tejima!"

"Okurete sumimasen, Komamura-sensei."

"And what have you been doing to be late for more than thirty minutes, Tejima?"

Damn. I hated that tone of his. I knew where it was going to lead.

"Don't tell me you left home late again? Do you know how hard your parents are working their spines off just to make sure you have your tuition fees paid? Do you know —"

"How much sweat and blood my parents painfully sacrifice to ensure strong foundations for my future?" I finished off for him, which he obviously didn't like. "Yeah, I know, Komamura-sensei, but unfortunately, I don't have parents for your information." I nonchalantly walked to my seat at the farther left of the room. I heard smirks and suppressed laughter elicited from my classmates.

"DID I TELL YOU TO TAKE YOUR SEAT, TEJIMA?" Komamura-sensei bellowed in embarrassment. "Youth like you need to be taught a lesson! What kind of an attitude is that?"

I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly. It got him more fired up than ever. "So you want to show me your attitude, huh, Tejima? You want to show me how much of a smart aleck you are, huh? Well, let's see if you can maintain that attitude after I send you to detention." A hellish grin spread across his repulsive face as he continued. "Go to detention room today after classes. If you skip it, I'll make sure you get expelled."

Even my classmates found this ridiculous. Collective cries of "eh?!" were heard all over the room. I glared at him in disgust.

"Any questions?" he said, taunting me. "If there isn't, please excuse me now for I have to go teach English in Class 3-7 (1). Au revoir."

Fuck the fucking fuckers. If it weren't for that Komamura-sensei, I'd be at home, writing away my Rukawa fantasies. But much to my displeasure, here I was, stuck in the detention room with all the other 'problematic' students. I was already adjusting gradually when Komamura-sensei showed up with that repulsive façade of his. In his arms, he was holding a slightly worn out sketchpad. This teme probably must have confiscated it from some poor art-obsessed student, I thought, annoyed. I continued to sit there grudgingly as he made his way to the teacher's seat in front of the class.

And just when I thought I was going to have to endure two straight hours with this hell-sent teacher, a sullen-looking student stepped inside and approached him. I figured she must be the owner of the sketchpad. A few more seconds later, Komamura-sensei stood up.

"Well, students, I have to go now, since I still have papers to check. But don't worry, your sempai Fuyuhi-san from Class 3-7 will be here to endure detention with you." He finished off with a hideous laugh and left. The owner of the sketchpad sat unhappily in his place. After a few minutes, she began drawing away at her pad.

Unfair, I thought, how could she be allowed to do something she enjoys when all we're allowed to do is sit here till two hours are over? I tried to bear watching her draw contentedly for a few minutes, but as I expected, I couldn't stand it. I got up and walked over to her.

I cleared my throat loud enough so she would notice me. "Fuyuhi-sempai," I said.

She looked up from her sketchpad. 'Yeah?"

"Don't you want to go home already?"

"You bet I do."

"Then just dismiss us. Tell that damn teme that the clock here in this room is dysfunctional so you lost track of time and thought —"

"Yeah, that's a good idea," she said, interrupting me. "But I'm sorry, I can't do that. I've done too much for Komamura-sensei to bear. He just might expel me."

No way, I thought, he threatened to expel her too? Interested, I dragged a chair over to her side. "Can I sit here, Fuyuhi-sempai?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess…"

"So can I ask why Jigoku Sensei(2) confiscated your sketchpad?" I asked, though it was pretty obvious that she got caught drawing in his class.

"Jigoku Sensei?" she repeated, amused. I, too, was amused at how she liked my sense of humor. "You must've been awesome at name-calling when you were a kid," she kidded.

I smiled politely in response as she resumed her business. I leaned slightly to take a peek on what she was working at. And damn, was she awesome. She was drawing a portrait of some student from the third year whom I've seen once or twice. I tried to recall his face.

Doing so was a tough task, since each time I'd close my eyes, images of Rukawa would come flooding to my mind, totally numbing my senses. It would make me even more determined to find the perfect bishie to pair him up with.

When finally I was able to block him off my mind, faint images of the people around him appeared. His classmates, his teachers, even the trees that would sway when the wind blew gently upon his countenance, making his hair move softly with the breeze, I saw it all. Damn, if I weren't into yaoi, I'd be a full-time Rukawa stalker.

Then it dawned upon me. Basketball practice.

Yeah, I remember now, there was this guy who was awesome at shooting three-pointers.

I would sometimes drop by the gymnasium to catch a few scenes of Rukawa shooting hoops. I would usually stay when the three stupid fangirls weren't there to scream their tonsils out for him (which happens only once in a blue moon), and stare at him and drift off to my fantasies.

But I couldn't help noticing his teammates too; they were quite awesome as well. Their team captain is ferocious and powerful, and the freshman with orange hair (he goes by the name Sakuragi as I recall) just sticks out too much for me to ignore. Then there's this guy who plays with his eyeglasses on, which makes me wonder if they ever get knocked off. Then there's another guy with a piercing on one ear and moves like The Flash.

Then there's this guy who can fire three-pointers from an unbelievable distance. He also seems to be the one Rukawa trusts a lot in the team, since most of his passes are directed to him. Ah, and he even called him Mitsui-sempai once. Yeah, he's that guy; that guy whom Fuyuhi-sempai is drawing so well.

Demo, doushitenano?

When I opened my eyes, Fuyuhi-sempai was starting on another drawing. I figured I must've been thinking for a long time since she was done with most of the facial features in this new one she was drawing. I thought she was drawing the Mitsui guy again, so I took another peek.

Then I went "Eeeeeeh?!"

"Hey!" she complained. "No fair peeking at my work!"

"Ah, gomen, gomen!" I said very apologetically, waving my hands about. "I really didn't mean to…I…I…"

"Forget it. Just make sure no one knows about it," she said almost too nonchalantly, and went back to her business. She seemed so preoccupied with it that I just couldn't help but wonder why.

Why was she drawing Rukawa Kaede?

"It's not what you think," she said, not looking at me. She was totally engrossed in her work.

I moved my chair closer so I could whisper to her. "Are you drawing sketches of the whole Shohoku team?"

She laughed in amusement. "No, silly," she said, stopping for a short moment. "Don't ask. If I explained, you probably wouldn't be able to get it anyway."

I wanted to shut myself up, but I couldn't stop the words gushing out of my mouth like a broken faucet.

"Anou…by any chance…are you drawing…yaoi?"

She stopped in her tracks. I panicked, thinking I must've touched a sensitive subject.

She inched closer to me, and whispered, "How…how did you know?"

I smiled. "Yappari," I said in a whisper.

She smiled back. "So… what's your name?"

"Tejima Kon'ya desu."

"Kon'ya? Doesn't that mean tonight?"

I shrugged. "That's how my parents named me."

For the first time ever, high school seemed brighter — although just a little — and I could finally feel that I at least belong.

Meeting Fuyuhi-sempai (damn, I forgot to ask for her first name) was like a breath of fresh air. Yeah, I know there are yaoi fangirls all throughout this school, but I certainly don't know any who are crazy enough to think of their schoolmates as pairings.

She helped me to be able to see Rukawa from a different perspective. I was, for the first time in so many years, overflowing with so many ideas for my Rukawa fics. Why hadn't I noticed Mitsui-sempai before? It made me hate myself a bit for not being observant enough. Why, it's certainly not impossible for Rukawa-kun to develop feelings for a teammate he trusts! Plus, it was undeniable that Mitsui-sempai had the looks of a bishie. He actually was like the cool, dashing type.

All this time I had been filling out my fics by pairing Rukawa with a too-good-to-be-true original character, and yet I still wasn't pleased. Now I know why…it's because I needed the real thing. Finally, my search for the perfect shounen for Rukawa is over! I have to tell my cousin. She'd certainly be able to relate since she's seen Rukawa-kun twice when Team Shohoku came over to Ryonan High for practice games.

I hurried home. I have to call my cousin as soon as possible.

"Moshi moshi?" a cheery voice greeted.

"Oi, Yuki," I answered.

"Dare ka?" she asked.

"Baka. It's me. Kon'ya."

"Kon'ya-chan!" she greeted.

"Can I sleep over tonight? Nii-chan's going to work overtime. It sucks."

"Sure! Come over anytime."

"Baka. You haven't even asked Oba-san for permission."

"Nah, that's okay. She won't mind."

"Okay. I'll come over at around eight."

"Hai! Jaa matane."

Click. I hung up. Tonight's going to be really awesome.

A/N: Nyehehehe. You'll never guess what's gonna happen next. Lemon's in charge of the third chapter. I'm beginning to like this joint fic a lot.

(1)I'm not sure — rather, Strawberry's not sure whether Mitsui-kun belongs to Class 3-7 or Class 3-5. Whatever. I hate numbers.

(2)Jigoku Sensei – literally means 'hell teacher." It just popped in my mind (I've probably been watching too much Jigoku Shoujo).

DISCLAIMER: SD doesn't belong to me. Nor does it belong to Strawberry or Lemon (in case they forgot to put up disclaimers). So don't sue us. We love strawberry Pocky.