Romantism
Lolz.
THREE
Illuminate the Hate
That prick is in that class, with me!
I mean, sure, I can stare at his eyes secretly all I want while contemplating my favorite memory, but does he have to make a condescending statement towards every single thing I do?
What the hell was wrong with my writing? I'm actually really proud of it. I'd like to become a writer of some sort in the future. And maybe kickbox on the side… yeah, that'd fuckin' rock.
But back to the subject at hand.
Orochimaru is a straight-up, without a doubt, total bastard. He's a dirty, dirty liar. All like "Sorry Sir Stupid, I don't remember you at all!"
Why the hell is he bothering me then?
He's in my favorite class! My AP Literature class, which I love with a PASSION.
I'm serious! I escorted him, didn't beat the living shit out of him like I really wanted to, and he repays me by making my time hell in one of my favorite classes?
Let's go back to the class, so you can get a feel of what the hell I'm talking about.
--
"Class, I'd like you to welcome the new student, Orochimaru Manda." Mr. Uchiha said, stepping back to show the black-haired teen. He nodded and greeted the class quietly. The class greeted him back in a bored manner and Mr. Uchiha searched for a seat to suit the new student.
"Mr. Manda, why don't you sit by Jiraiya? I'm sure he won't mind."
The HELL I won't, dammit!
"Thank you Mr. Uchiha." Orochimaru replied to the teacher in his creepy hiss. I think Mr. Uchiha noticed it as well, because he winced when Orochimaru turned his head.
"Hello Jiraiya." Orochimaru said, the words sliding mockingly between pale pink lips, taunting my name like a snake.
Why did I just turn him saying my name into poetry, practically?
"Drop the sexy tone man, I don't know you like that." I replied blandly. He just smirked, and leaned his head onto one hand (was he trying to seduce me or something?) and his lips stretched even more.
Doesn't he get tired of that?
By the way, the answer is: NO.
"Jiraiya, would you mind showing Mr. Manda what we were just working on?" Mr. Uchiha asked with a kind smile. I really like Mr. Uchiha. I nodded and pulled out my book to turn it to the assigned page.
"Alright, so we're supposed to write a simple poem, but using a certain genre for the thing." I explained. He raised an eyebrow in question.
"The genres are?"
"Y'know, like alliteration, rhyming, all that jazz?" I said. He nodded. "You just got to write something that flows with a genre, something that exposes what you're feelin' that moment."
He nodded again in understanding and began working. I'd been done for a while now, so I just leaned back in my chair, thinking of various plots for a story.
"You think you're done, don't you?" That cold hiss whispered in my ear, thoroughly scaring the hell out of me.
"Jesus!" I almost leaned back too far, but automatically latched my hand to the desk to pull myself back up.
I stared at him incredulously. "Where the hell do you get off-" I started, but was cut off by that creep's voice.
"I asked you if you thought you were done, because from here it seems your poem lacks much of the correct standards to be considered eligible for completion," he said.
"You can't even read it from where you are, bastard!" I whispered back harshly. He sneered and turned his head away fast enough for his hair to smack my face.
Damn it.
I get the feeling that the hair smacking is going to be a lot more apparent in the future.
"Poetry is akin to a pedigree. Many people able to make it work have the ability in their genes." Orochimaru said haughtily.
The fuck? Who the hell goes around comparing class work to what sounds almost like a dog show. I glared and looked over at his poem, which kinda crept me out a bit.
"Going to find myself today,
Off until tomorrow.
Dreaming something will come my way,
Hope in place of sorrow.
Elated by my ideals
Led by my reason.
Pain is unreal
My pleasure is in season.
Everyone will smile
People will laugh.
Least be by the mile
Even on my single path.
All my trek is that,
Simple self-relation.
Except I don't know how to get back
…should I try desperation?"
I read to myself, avidly fascinated by the purposeful message. Yet, the poem really made you think about stuff.
Why is he calling for salvation? I mean, I noticed the little letter-to-word play he worked around with, but was that what he was really feeling?
I looked back at him and saw him staring in morbid attentiveness at my poem. I held it up and gave it to him, because he seemed just that interested. He read it to himself, but I could hear him speaking, Mr. Uchiha could hear him speaking, the entire class could hear him speaking.
And it was creepy as hell.
"Illuminate the hate as we wait in sake of the lives despised by knives held in the hand of a man who can but won't try to die as I sigh and look away from today and say to stay in spite of light and right, fight in sight of the role of my soul divided unsighted reunited by the word heard by soaring birds shot by naught and sought by a heart used abused confused as we feel the thrill still in a seal of cold old gold sold by a face in a race of distaste and pace of pained stained strained smiles."
I want to burn that poem now, after hearing it pass through the lips of that slippery voice. Yet it sounds so much better than me saying it in my gruff voice.
"Mr. Manda, did you write…that?" Uchiha-sensei asked, unable to say the word 'poem'. Orochimaru shook his head, his long hair smacking my face, again (see? I can predict the future), and motioned his head towards me.
I could've sworn he could talk.
"Jiraiya wrote that? No way!" A random classmate exclaimed. What's so hard to believe about it? Is it because I'm just that good, and you aren't? Well, sorry for being able to write, assholes.
"Jiraiya-kun, you amaze me with your writing abilities once more." Mr. Uchiha said, smiling gently. Orochimaru looked pointedly at me and I grinned at him. He was about to say something, but the bell rang, signaling the next period.
"Your poem was pretty awesome." I said to him as we walked out of class.
He cocked an eyebrow and smirked. Again. "Your poem lacked much to be desired, but the rhyming sequence was interesting, to say in the least." Orochimaru replied.
I am getting so sick of this guy's constant criticism, and all I did was congratulate him on his sick poem. Bastard (and I mean that in the nicest way possible. Not.).
"If you have nothing to say, dumbass, then can you get out the way? I have to go to class." Orochimaru said, fixing his sneer.
"And I have to take you to class! So follow me, bastard." I growled. Orochimaru pushed past me and walked down the hall.
"Hey man, where're you going?" I called.
"To class, moron. I have Honors Civics," he responded back, just as snippy as before.
"How do you know where the Honors hall is?" I asked. Orochimaru halted and looked back at me with a look that screamed 'You idiot'.
Okay, I'll give him that one.
And I'll admit that was quite a stupid question.
--
You see why I hate that asshole?
I can't stand him! Him and his pretty eyes and pretty hair and pretty everything basically.
And sadly enough, I get a premonition that I'd be seeing more of him in the future.
END THREE
I already know the poetry fucking sucks. Don't fucking remind me.
Uchiha-sensei is Sasuke and Itachi's great-uncle, Uchiha Teyaki. I'm just taking all of the really old characters and making them work out in this.
