NOTE: Sorry it took so long! It's my senior year ; I know that's no excuse -.-;

Oh, and about Zexion's last name- I know, I know, that's a first name too. I'm not creative :P And, um

Warning: for questionable teacher/student relationships ; also it being an unpopular couple -.-

Chapter is Leon-centric :) The next one'll be Cloud-centric. I bet you'll be able to guess why.

On a completely unrelated note, I need to get some creative juices going, so if a few people could give me some drawing ideas, I could do a few sketches :) I won't explain why -.- But I have stuff at
http://senket. Shameless plugs, too, haha.


Leon pursed his lips, lidded eyes darting to the clock. He felt the constant buzz of nervous, angry energy fill his body, thick and unrelenting in its fullness. He shifted forward, the swell of base emotions churning in his stomach. Lust swarmed him, and that angered him too. Why the hell would anger make him horny? He tore a paper from his notebook and crumbled it in his hand, the thin sheet crackling at his rudeness. It made him angry, and lust grew stronger, and that made him angrier yet. Storm-gray eyes searched for a target, wanting to make someone just as miserable as he felt currently.

It was not an especially hard find, considering. Emo-boy Zexion was squirming faintly, leaning forward as far as he could without tipping forward, visible eye half-wide and fixed intently on their teacher. His mouth was half-open, pink tongue dashing out to wet his pink lips.

Leon uncurled the paper in a jerk, accidentally tearing off a corner. He tossed the small piece somewhere and smoothed out what was left, scribbling something messily. He crumbled in up again and threw accurately; the projectile sailed over to Zexion and hit his shoulder before falling to the floor.

The slight boy made a short, strangled sound of surprise and discontent, abruptly sitting up. He glanced about with a frown, searching for his assailant. No one was looking at him, so he forgot that and nudged the note towards him with his foot, picking it up deftly. Long fingers unfurled it, stroking out the wrinkles as he read.

At first his expression was on of surprise, eyebrows curving upwards in dumbfounded question. Annoyance flickered across his face, a netting of indrawn brows, tight mouth, narrowed eyes. He lit up suddenly, brows curving again, a faint sneer spreading across his lips. He picked up his pen, flicking strands of hair out of his face in a depressingly upbeat way. He sank into his seat like an overconfident prince as he wrote his reply, foot curling around the leg of his desk almost sensually. He turned and flicked the note back.

Catching it was no issue for Leon, who read it with an aggravated little frown. He grabbed his pen full-fisted, the force in his grip too strong for any flimsy make. He was about to write something furiously insulting when a shadow fell across his desk, and faint feeling of tension filling him. His feet drew closer to his body, back straightening as he glanced up slowly. "Do pass it over, Mr. Lionheart."

He reluctantly handed it over, eyes fixed on Zexion. This particular teacher, having little to no patience for the majority of shenanigans, tended to read notes aloud in class so that embarrassment would keep the students from doing it again- or at least, from getting caught. Frankly, Leon was more worried about Zexion than himself, eyes returning to watch the man as he read.

'Stop fantasizing about teach, emo-boy'

'Who said anything about fantasizing, wannabe? The real thing is much better.'

One of Xemnas' eyebrows went up, and his frown smoothed into an amused, self-satisfied smirk. Leon felt his face scrunch, though he supposed by Zexion's response, he shouldn't be surprised. The teacher returned to the front of the class, dropping the note into the trash can as he passed, expression returning to blank stoicism. He regarded both boys closely before quirking a brow, sunset-orange eyes focusing on the smaller of the two students, expression carefully stern. "Since you seem to be the instigator, Mr. Ienzo, I'll see you after school."

A knowing smirk flickered onto the boy's face before he carefully schooled his expression, dribbling a thin amount of meek shame through, lowering his eyes. He swallowed, speaking in a soft, heightened voice. "Yes, sir." It took the class a moment or two to settle, but at that moment when they were quietly listening again, Zexion turned around, meeting Leon's eyes.

His smirk was loud, a clear look of victory written all across his face, in the way he was looking at the brunet through lidded eyes, back curved back, shoulders square and pushed back. He flashed a triumphant, mocking smile, turning back to face the front.

Leon hissed angrily, arms crossed across his chest stubbornly as he sunk in his seat. He knew quite well what Zexion was implying, and it annoyed him all the more. Meanwhile, his stomach continued to burn.


Lunch came, and Leon was intensely glad for it, the tension building in his muscles almost overbearing. He dropped his tray on the table, perhaps a bit too harshly, reaching out quickly to steady the teetering can of soda. He sat heavily, eyes dark as he stared ahead, leaning forward so fat that his body was practically splayed across the tabletop. He sat there for a moment, quiet, glaring at whatever happened to be in his range of sight. He took a deep breath suddenly, stealing himself, pushing back from the table and turning his head. "Cloud--" He cut off, staring at the blonde with a twist in his mouth.

Cloud had his back to him, torso contorted to face Tifa, who was seated beside him. He clearly wasn't paying to slightest bit of attention to what she was saying judging from the way his shoulders curved forward, free arm hugged against his chest, brows drawn together tightly as bright-blue eyes stared at a spot on the wall just over Tifa's shoulder.

Leon gritted his teeth, drumming his fingers anxiously against the laminated sage-green tabletop. "This is absurd," he hissed, and Cloud only answered with a tensing of his shoulders, head dipping down almost as a turtle drawing into its shell. Leon's hand curled into a fist, something in his replying to the sudden rift between them with dark frustration- frustration that had been building in him all weekend. He had been nice to Cloud, done what he knew the blonde would have wanted him to do after his confession on Thursday and left him quietly alone. But Saturday came around, a date that had been predetermined for a few weeks as a date for them to go spar or something, and Leon had discovered that he had been cut off, and quite cleanly too.

"Cloud, would you turn around and look at me?" The blonde made no move, and so Leon took his arm, tugging on it strongly. Cloud jerked his head around, cerulean eyes brighter for their bloodshot appearance- his expression was angry and closed, and Leon didn't know what to do. He'd seen his friend at a low before, but not like this. He punched him lightly in the arm, voice weak as he spoke. "Hey… you're being stupid."

Blue eyes widened suddenly, the v-shape in Cloud's brows making him seem almost insane if not for the clear slackness of his limbs. It only lasted a moment before he flung his shoulders back, turning away from the brunet as he stood, leaving hurriedly. His strides were long and quick, purposeful. His back was unnaturally straight, fists curled enough that his fingers drained of blood and turned wan white, all the more disturbing to Leon considering how naturally pale he was.

Leon growled, pushing his lunch tray up to clear a space, crossing his arms there and dropping his head on them. Aeris and Tifa straightened out a bit, curving their necks to look at him. "Something wrong, Leon?" The pink-clothed brunette asked, voice melodious and carefully soothing. He freed an arm and waved his hair in the air noncommittally, head firmly fixed against the table. The girls sighed together and glanced at each other with that knowing look before deciding that any effort spent to prod it out of him (or Cloud) would be rather useless, and so it wasn't worth trying. Things would resolve themselves eventually.


Leon's last period was history. It was a subject he was remarkable adept at, which perhaps explained why he felt he had no need to try and pay attention. He pulled what he had been doing during chemistry, except with a purpose this time. Cloud was seated in front of him, eyes cast on the teacher but glazed with boredom.

He began with a note. Its contents had been thought out, tense minutes with the brunet trying to figure out how to best extract cloud from his shell. The blonde had opened it, read, and curled it up again, and threw it for the trash. It hit the inner rim and bounced in, a girl a few seats forward turning back to give him a smile, probably meant to be congratulatory. He either didn't notice or didn't care.

Leon gritted his teeth and tried again. This time the words had no real meaning, a stupid comment on the lecture going on. Cloud read it, scoffed softly, and tossed it with the first.

Annoyed but relentless, Leon decided that a reaction at all was a step in the right direction and tried again. This time he scribbled down a joke he had heard; one he had never found particularly funny even, but it was something. Cloud didn't even bother to open it this time, allowing it to meet its predecessors right away. Pissed beyond belief, Leon leaned back in his seat and started projectile shooting with the paper- with the back of the blonde's head as his target, of course. Except for the indrawn slope of his shoulder and slight curl forwards, Cloud did not react. Leon smirked, hard and unhappy, and kept going- that is, until the blonde's patience snapped and he turned around and decked Leon.

Obviously, they both had detention- Cloud had punched Leon, but Leon had been the one to initiate the game of instigation and response. They sat in silence on opposite sides of the room. Cloud was leaning back in his new seat, arms crossed stubbornly across his chest. The foot on the inside of the room, closest to Leon, was up on the desk, unconsciously forming a sort of barrier the way his arm had at lunch, creating a wall between him and the rest of the room- and consequentially, him and Leon. His face was outturned, eyes locked out the window. He gazed at nothing, a stubborn little frown marring his handsome face.

Leon had an elbow on the desk, propping his head up, palm cupping his cheek. It was the outside hand, blocking out the rest of the world and reducing it to just him and Cloud. He watched his friend, torso curved towards him. He inspected the closed expression from across the room, searching for any way to fix whatever was wrong. He was angry that Cloud was this way, angry to be here, and definitely angry to know that, thanks to his genius, Zexion was probably 'in detention' making out with the chem teacher. Right now. It was sickening, maddening, and in any case, just not fair. Not that he wanted the chemistry teacher of all people. Just ick. The man was, by standards, plenty attractive he was sure… but he didn't even want to think about it! He grimaced at the thought and then let out a long sigh.

Cloud continued to ignore him.


The entirety of detention had, very unfortunately, passed in the same manner- Leon's frustration building and Cloud somehow managing to stay absolutely unresponsive throughout. An attempt at doing homework had ended in an extended confinement, torn paper littered around his desk and an annoyed look from Cloud. A 'bathroom break' had ended in something close to blackmail when he, feeling rather vengeful, had walked right into the chem room. Instead of taking pictures the way he intended to, he threw a fit and threw the camera at the student-teacher couple. "I couldn't have you sent to jail, you know."

Xemnas had smirked, bright orange-yellow eyes half-lidded. He watched the brunet from under his hair, Zexion's head pressed against his chest, waiting for Leon to leave again. He had that smug expression that just drove Leon mad. "Yes. But you won't." And with a strangled cry, he was back in the prison-room again for a while.

After a bout of banging his head against his desk out of sheer frustration, the teacher finally let them go. In the few moments it took him to get his things together, Cloud had already shot out the door and left- it was about that time he realizes he was very late in getting home, and he'd probably miss the monthly call from his mother in- where were they now? Belize? Peru?

Today just wasn't him day (week, month, year, decade, life, take your pick). He stomped off, muttering obscenities to himself as he reached the parking lot. He mounted his motorcycle, darkened eyes fixed on the horizon. He couldn't think properly anymore, overridden by stress and anxiety and aggravation. His bike roared to life between his thighs, a sort of personal extension of his internal anger, and he peeled out of the parking lot, shooting down the street. His body was too tense, leaning forward so far he was pressed against the frame like a racer. He twisted onto the highway, making dangerously sharp turns as he swerved around cats- that is, until a V-bug pulled unexpectedly in front of him and he flipped over it, motorcycle et al.

Shock settled in rather quickly, aided by the endorphins already filling his brain. He stared blankly at the violet-blue sky, vaguely realizing that he was on his back, that the loud crack earlier probably meant that his insurance would shoot through the roof- not to mention a possible license revocation considering how reckless he had been. He'd also undoubtedly need a new helmet, because he was pretty sure it had cracked in lieu of his skull. He hoped that his very favorite fur-rimmed leather jacket hadn't sustained too much damage, because it was irreplaceable. Funny, though, how he didn't seem to fill any pain…

It was at about that point that he blacked out, dreamily hoping that no one would run him over.