And this ficcy holds the record for shortest time ficcy I have ever written . . . less than an hour! o.o;;;;; Mochi was feeling down and stuff about her school and marks, and I decided to cheer her up. Well, it didn't turn out the way that I expected it to, but she says she is properly cheered. So! *happy happy* Another ficcy from me!
Warning. This sorta dark. Kinda dark. Ok, maybe really dark. No sex whatsoever (*hears booing* ^^;), just moody, angsty, dark stuff. 'Nuff said.
Pissed*****
Tasuki was pissed.
And it wasn't just the vaguely annoyed at something that had gone wrong in the day which started the whole cascade of other shit. It was the "pissed-off-right-this-moment"; the kind that caused this empty, insatiable raging in the pit of your stomach. The kind that tore you up from inside with all claws and fangs and nothing tangible. The kind that keeps you wishing everything would just go to hell and never come back.
Yeah, that kind.
Tasuki wasn't a very good person when he was dealing with that kind of pissed.
He was this close, and then some, from springing out of his desk and throttling the teacher dozing behind his desk. He was even closer, and then some, of doing worse to the loudmouthed, self-obnoxious idiot behind him. In fact, he would probably leave hand imprints on the desk, the way he was gripping it.
This was not fucking fair.
So he wasn't the brightest person on the block, not compared to some of the friggin' geniuses this class had to boast. Like that guy sitting by himself in the corner. Yeah, he was sure that he got all the high marks, but he didn't feel the need to broadcast his superiourity to the whole world now, did he? Not like this other ass practically slobbering over his domain of lesser, stupider creatures. Which, not so incidentally, included him.
He didn't like it at all.
"Well the basic, basic-- and I stress the basic-- part of understanding the fundamentals of this course is your knowledge of these formulas, in my personal advice, this one and this one . . ."
He tried to hide the grimace. Can't blame him for failing that test if the teacher was a toad with shoes and the only other source of "getting it" meant spending hours listening to this self-obnoxious pig talk about his lifetime's achievements.
" . . . Tasuki, are you listening to me? You sure are going to be sorry, when you fail yet another test . . ."
Tasuki clenched his teeth together hard. He didn't turn around to face him and his followers, instead muttered, "I'm fine, thanks." No small feat through clenched teeth.
The guy didn't know when to quit. "Oh, you know you'll be bitching and complaining at me when you do fail it. I mean, how can you not get anywhere near passing without some of my personal assistance . . ."
That did it. He whipped his head back and pinned the ass under a glare. "Fuck off. I don't need your self-centered help. I'll do just fine on my own. Thank you." He turned away.
Behind him he could hear lots of angry little squeaks. And the answering mutterings of his devoted little following. Tasuki snorted. Bring it all on. Nothing he couldn't handle.
Then all the insults started coming in. Loads of ugly, ugly things, just within the scope of his hearing but certainly never reaching the ears of the professor. Who would have done nothing if he had been awake, anyway. It started with his intelligence, appearance, general attitude . . . and all went downhill from there. 'Fine. Whatever the crap you wanna say. I can take it, damn you little fuckers."
Then it came in the middle of that train of thought; a dirty, angry, hissing whisper. "You . . . you-- damned little faggot . . ."
He froze right there, too shocked for a moment to properly let that go through his mind. And by then it was too late: the others had already joined in.
"Yeah, little cocksucker . . ." "Fag." "Probably wants it so bad . . ." "From a man!" "Freak." "Gonna pound your little shit-face into the ground . . ."
He couldn't think. Couldn't act at all. The bell rang, and he was stumbling out of his seat before he knew it. 'Want--'
No.
Walking out of the room as fast as he could, books hanging dangerously from one hand. 'Need--' Walking, stumbling, fuck, running through the hall. Didn't care. Didn't want to care. 'to . . .'
No.
Out the door now, brilliant sunlight hitting his face, blinding him. But it didn't matter. He was already blinded. 'Got to . . .'
No. No. No.
Blinded by pure, white-hot rage.
'Fucking-- kill-- THEM. Need-- fucking-- BASTARDS!' Slam his fists against the side of his car. That was fine. His car was old, wouldn't feel it. He didn't feel anything but the rage. Consuming him. A terrible rage from deep within. Fire. That's it. He was on fire.
Fuck.
Slowly. Slowly. Agonizingly slow, the kind that takes effort simply breathing in and out. The fire painstakingly quenched, flame by desperate flame. And then, it was under control again. He was under control again.
"Hey."
'Oh fuck not this, not now.' He started searching, almost wearily, for an escape.
"Are you all right?"
He turned, and met eyes of compassionate mahogany brown. Let out a shaky breath that he had been holding. "Yeah."
The other man held his hand out. "I'm Houjun. Ri Houjun." Oh right. The quiet guy in the corner who got the high marks, yet never bragged about them. He had a beautiful smile.
"I'm your new tutor."
And to Tasuki, that made more sense than anything in the world. He smiled-- and grasped the other's hand, firmly.
As the two men talked, got into Tasuki's car and drove off for a studying session . . .
. . . a gathering crowd began to form around five figures, sprawled out one after the other, like a pile of dominos. Battered, bloody in nose and face, breathing rapid and harsh. And with utter, dominating fear in their eyes. Something time could never erase.
Fear.
*****
C & C much obliged.
