Everything But Education
by Cooking Spray
Disclaimer: *sighs* Do I really have to say this? Nobody reads it anyway. All pre-existing disclaimers apply. So therefore, I own zip, nada. Besides the plot, of course.
Authoress's Rambling: Konnichiwa, brothers and sisters of Xellia fandom! Welcome to my wonderful unorignal fic! But I'm determined to make this different, give it a little Cooking Spray touch. Not that I'm Queen Midas or anything, I just have to defy the cliche.
And speaking of cliches, there are many used in this fic. So, if you're utterly upposed to being labeled, you can flame me, but the labels are totally meant to be unoffensive. They're there for the sake of humor. Believe me, I go to school, so I know the whole kit and caboodle.
For the record, one last note: I know that Xelloss doesn't have a last name, but, for the sake of this fic, he'll adopt Zelas's. Kay? Good ^_^
Japanese Word Glossary
Ohayo gozimas- Good morning -chan- A cute way to address someone you are close to Namagomi- Raw garbage. Filia's pet name for Xelloss :P Yare yare- Kind of like, 'My, my' Hentai- Pervert Okaa-san- Mother Ja ne- See ya -san- Loosely translates as a courtesy title, i.e. Miss, Mrs. Pocky- A popular Japanese snack, sort of like a chocolate-covered pretzel stick. Comes in many flavors.
Now, in all due respect, let's get this ficcie started!
~*~*~*~
Chapter One: Morning Ritual
Lina Inverse was, in all respects, the popular interpretation of a freak. There was no way to evade the fact. In a school populous dominated by beautiful, malicious cheerleaders and their jock boyfriends, her wild, orange hair, short stupor, and total lack of figure really didn't help her rise to the top of things. But to Lina it wasn't of importance, she simply shrugged things off. Her happiness mattered much more to her than public opinion.
She pulled out an instruction manual, belonging to her current super- favorite video game, Gauntlet. Her love of digital entertainment was also a sturdy yield sign on her road to cheerleader-dom, but that didn't stop her from playing Nintendo from dawn until dusk.
Also out of her backpack she revealed her CD player, and happily secured the earphones to her head, bouncing down the sidewalk to the theme of Dungeons and Dragons, oblivious to any judgments by passer-bys. Responsibility? Whatever, Lina preferred to be carefree of the demands in her world.
And in ways that made her a better person than she got credit for.
~*~*~*~
Filia Ul Copt danced onto her patio, feet deliciously bare against the dewy concrete. She piroutted in her neglice, blond hair splaying gracefully around her slender figure with the movement. She loved the very pureness of morning- fresh and beautiful and unexpected, so much so she almost felt a part of it, a whisper in the trees or a nimble dryad. Saichuro was not yet awake, so she felt the morning peace was her own, a private, secluded secret she shared only with nature. She spun in her minimum of clothing some more, the road by the shrine was generally deserted because it was in a wealthy district, and most of its inhabitants were the elderly who had no children. So she worried not, until-
A familiar purple blur rounded the curb, pausing, much to the maiden in question's distress, at her house. The aforementioned turned a brilliant shade of crimson.
The purple blur was none other than Xelloss Metallium, the notorious swindling, practical joking, generally annoying, double-crossing, ever- smiling, indian-giving track runner. The shy, pale-faced members of the computer club feared him, the cheerleaders and jocks snubbed him, yet were leary of him, and Filia Ul Copt abused him. The only reason he wasn't dead was because of his star running skills.
Filia, contrasting quite vastly, was a genuine straight-arrow. She was the goody-good daughter of a shrine owner, a vegetarian, and a grand valedictorian. She was also in choir, and naturally represented the best vocal talent. She was well-known, but quiet, which was sometimes interpreted as snobby. Her extremely high expectations caused her to become flustered when something stood in their way or broke into her perfect, undisturbed logical world. Something like Xelloss.
Xelloss smiled indifferently. "Ohayo gozimas, Filia-chan," he said, wearing his perpetual grin, practically begging for his morning beating. This really made her blood boil. Was he mocking her?
She covered herself protectively. "NAMAGOMI!!!!" In a swirl of vanity that defied all human laws of science, Filia surrendered her forlorn housecoat, and it, providing a moment's privacy, covered her as she shed her neglice, emerging fully clothed in her school uniform and as enraged as a hungry tiger.
Xelloss scratched his neck, still grinning. "Yare, yare...."
"HOW DARE YOU! HENTAI!" Filia screeched, so you could almost imagine the smoke pouring out of her ears. She grabbed a folding chair and immediately began pursuit, her anger evidently pumping her body with adrenaline.
Smiling all the way, Xelloss put his athletic abilities to use, while Filia followed not far behind, chasing him like a woman possessed.
~*~*~*~
Somewhere, in a tidy, middle-class home, a middle-aged woman in a terry-cloth house robe and French curlers was frying bacon. The scene was so commonplace, and the subject such a poster for housewives eveywhere, that it could have taken place in anyone's kitchen. Until-
Gourry Gabriev sat at the table, licking the icing from a large, jelly doughnut. His appearance reeked with football-player appeal, and, like all tough men, he loved his mother's homecooking. So there he sat, random, happy thoughts flickering around his small brain, as he ate doughnuts and listened to the frying pan sizzle. Simplistic, almost effortless morning ritual that guaranteed lots of big goofy mother-son smiles and hopeless remarking on the healthy appetites of big boys.
Gourry pushed his chair away from the table, and stood. "Thanks Okaa- san," he said genuinely. "Your homemade doughnuts are the best."
"Okaa-san" smiled tenderly. "It's nice to know my big boy has such a healthy appetite. I made them just for you, dear." Lots of smiles. Little do mothers know, but their homecooked goodness is probably pumping their sons full of fat and cholesterol.
Gourry grabbed his gym bag. "Ja ne, Okaa-san," he offered while stepping out the door. "I'm going to school now."
"Goodbye, my dear Gourry!" Okaa-san replied lovingly, sticking her head out the door and waving a handkerchief in her morning finery. "Make me proud!"
"Bye, Okaa-san!" he called, charismatically slinging his gym bag over his shoulder in a way that would make girls swoon. His bronzed, muscular arms flexed as he waved.
So thus his morning begun, no worries, no complications, just innocence. Typical in his case.
~*~*~*~
A large pair of blue eyes blinked, studying their reflection. Hands delicately smoothed down violet locks of hair. A girl, looking to be a freshman, posed for the mirror, stunningly perfected down to her polished loafers. She assumed a triumphant pose, admiring her handiwork. Yes, indeed, Amelia wil tesla Sailoon was ready to go to school.
Amelia had a rich father, Philonel, who was the head of a large business tycoon. Therefore, of course she lived in a gigantic mansion, complete with hired, handsome servants and butlers and such. But, she was far from being a rich snob. The freshman was a constant ball of energy, obsessed with drama club and a straight-A student. (Although not quite the straight arrow Filia is.) And she was known to hang around with Lina's crowd, though, by her obviously preppy exterior, she could easily be an elite. But that's Amelia for you.
"Amelia-san, your ride is waiting," a uniformed servant announced from the stairway, as picture perfect as a Disney feature. Full of energy, she bounded down the stairs, her designer leather backpack in tow, and through the elegantly carved mahogany doors thoughtfully held open by yet another servant. There, awaited the shiny, expensive white limosine, the door propped open by the chauffeur, exposing the red velvet interior.
She slid in, smiling a smile that would make Martha Stewart cry, and comfortably seated herself, securing the seatbelt. She must carefully heed all of the laws and be looking out for her welfare. The chauffeur shut the door behind her and walked around, sidling in the driver's seat and turning the ignition key.
"My directions, Amelia-san?" the loyal chauffeur inquired. Amelia practiced her "thoughtful" expression, then replied after careful contemplation. "Take the long route to school, I feel like a relaxing car ride this morning. And you don't have to stop to pick up any friends, just me. Okay?"
"Very well, Amelia-san." They pulled out into the street and drove along at an aimable pace. In high spirits, she produced her copy of the latest play programme, and began a very soulful practice. Weren't mornings wonderful?
~*~*~*~
Zelgadis Greyweirs yawned, and stumbled out of bed, running his hands through his hair. Then he threw his alarm clock across the room.
The sun was already up in the sky, its rays filtering through the curtains. Assuming he wasn't going to get any more sleep, Zel picked up the alarm clock, reading the time. Seven-thirty. Crap. Only ten more minutes until he was supposed to leave. Fortunately, he was used to this phenomenon, and had gotten good at getting dressed and ready in the brief time. He didn't have to stand in front of a mirror for hours combing mousse through his hair, like most of the guys he knew. He was aware of what he was, and didn't change it. Not that mousse would help, anyway. The car wreck had seen to that.
Shedding his pajamas for the school uniform, he dressed, and without a glance in the mirror's direction, trudged toward the bathroom. He spread toothpaste on the bristles of his brush, and cleaned his teeth mechanically, finshing with a final swish of water. There. School, here Zel comes. He drew up his battered school bag, stuffed with unfinished homework, and made his way to the door. He checked his watch. Seven-forty- five. He always left for school at the last moment possible, to avoid the sneers of the girls with their designer handbags, the taunts of the musclemen slinging running shoes over their shoulders.
Years ago, or what seemed like years, Zel always lived in a sort of vaccuum where time mattered little, he and his mother had been out to do some grocery shopping. He was around five or six, at just the age to look forward to such things. Maybe if he begged enough Okaa-san would buy him some strawberry Pocky.
He sat, radiating with little-kid carefree cheeriness, listening to his mother and providing suggestions for the shopping list. The sun was shining, maybe he'd even fingerpainted in kindergarten that day. He didn't recall. Because then something slammed into the car, and he couldn't remember much else, except metal crunching into his tiny body, and then dead silence, endless blackness. He found out later they were hit, by another driver who just wasn't paying attention. He and his mother recovered all right, in the physical sense, beside a few large scrapes that would probably always be there. But after that, Okaa-san wasn't Okaa-san anymore. She quit her job, and cried a lot, and sometimes forgot about taking care of Zel. He learned to fend for himself when she wasn't around. But life was hard for even him. Students at school teased, pointing at his scars. It hurt to see his friends being so cruel. Lots of times, he just ran to the bathroom to hide from them, crying and silently hating the man who collided with them. Mean thoughts for even a first-grader. And-
Zel shook his head, smiling morosely. He didn't want to be troubled by those memories today. He had enough to deal with.
The bell rang as he approached the school, deeming him tardy. It was another day, just like the rest.
~*~*~*~
A cheerleading uniform traveled down the hallway. Or, at least, that's all the male population saw, anyway. Each was trying to get a glimpse of the trademark cleavage beneath it. Indeed, Naga Whiteserpent had enetered the building, surrounded by her posse of cheerleading buddies.
Their blinding, powder blue and white varsity duds so clearly announced their position that they might as well have said "See this uniform? I'm a cheerleader!". The wearers strutted them for obvious emphasis, looking almost patronizing. And Naga was at the head of the group, batting her eyelashes at her cute boy-friends, greeting her fellow girl-friends with blow kisses, and taunting any pasty-complexioned loser in glasses.
Naga wasn't really mean at heart, just a little lacking in the intelligence department. Her intentions were good, but she had no idea why boys kept fainting every time she wore a tube top to the cinema. And for heaven's sake, she thought lip gloss was good for you, and that she was actually doing all of the geeks a lesson in self-confidence when she regularlly made their lives miserable. She was utterly uninformed about how terribly manufactured she was, she took the whole bimbo-cheerleader package hook, line, and sinker. In fact, her idea of a fun afternoon had a lot to do with cheer practice, following Gourry around, giggling with her girlfriends, obsessing over Gourry, talking about Goury, making hearts around Gourry's name in the yearbook, reading fashion magazines, giving herself a pedicure, and making fun of the "losers". And, in particular, finding ways to retaliate against Lina Inverse.
Lina stood out quite visibly in the crowd, once you spotted her hair amidst the flood of students. And, besides the fact that Naga assumed her an obstacle in the way of her quest to Gourry's throne, she would normally be humbly overlooked - the kind of spastic, violent, video-game obsessed girl friends with the scar-faced freak. But, unluckily for Lina, she made a mistake. She talked to Naga's Gourry, and Naga saw her.
Technically Gourry wasn't Naga's, but everyone with an ounce of sense (or if you're Lina and you really just don't care) knew that she's had her eye on him, the star of the high school athletic program, and if Naga had her eye on someone, the rest of the population pretty much backed away, lest they meet a very painful demise. Except Lina. Naga was outraged someone dared to defy her monarchy! Determined to steamroll, like she was used to, the head of the squad was shocked to find that she was evenly matched with the five-four breastless wonder. And that really bugged her.
The warning bell sounded, and the students thinned away as they hurried to class. So much for Lina-hunting. She tearfully departed from her circle of friends and headed to her first period class, where she would spend the duration writing "Naga and Gourry 4ever" in her Biology notebook.
Just on time, the eight o' clock bell chimed, and school began again. Amused, Naga thought idly, 'I wonder what will happen today?'
~*~*~*~
Hee hee, like the Zel thing, fangirls? I wrote it just for you. I estimate this could get really lengthy, so you'll have to stick around for the ride, as intended. But I'll know when to end.
I'm pleased! Are you? Don't just stand, there, then, tell me what you thought! All thoughts welcome!
Me: What will the next chapter be about, Xelloss-kun?
Xel: .... Sore wa himitsu desu. *wink*
Me: Exactly! So...... the faster you review, the faster I write!
Ja ne next chappie! ~
by Cooking Spray
Disclaimer: *sighs* Do I really have to say this? Nobody reads it anyway. All pre-existing disclaimers apply. So therefore, I own zip, nada. Besides the plot, of course.
Authoress's Rambling: Konnichiwa, brothers and sisters of Xellia fandom! Welcome to my wonderful unorignal fic! But I'm determined to make this different, give it a little Cooking Spray touch. Not that I'm Queen Midas or anything, I just have to defy the cliche.
And speaking of cliches, there are many used in this fic. So, if you're utterly upposed to being labeled, you can flame me, but the labels are totally meant to be unoffensive. They're there for the sake of humor. Believe me, I go to school, so I know the whole kit and caboodle.
For the record, one last note: I know that Xelloss doesn't have a last name, but, for the sake of this fic, he'll adopt Zelas's. Kay? Good ^_^
Japanese Word Glossary
Ohayo gozimas- Good morning -chan- A cute way to address someone you are close to Namagomi- Raw garbage. Filia's pet name for Xelloss :P Yare yare- Kind of like, 'My, my' Hentai- Pervert Okaa-san- Mother Ja ne- See ya -san- Loosely translates as a courtesy title, i.e. Miss, Mrs. Pocky- A popular Japanese snack, sort of like a chocolate-covered pretzel stick. Comes in many flavors.
Now, in all due respect, let's get this ficcie started!
~*~*~*~
Chapter One: Morning Ritual
Lina Inverse was, in all respects, the popular interpretation of a freak. There was no way to evade the fact. In a school populous dominated by beautiful, malicious cheerleaders and their jock boyfriends, her wild, orange hair, short stupor, and total lack of figure really didn't help her rise to the top of things. But to Lina it wasn't of importance, she simply shrugged things off. Her happiness mattered much more to her than public opinion.
She pulled out an instruction manual, belonging to her current super- favorite video game, Gauntlet. Her love of digital entertainment was also a sturdy yield sign on her road to cheerleader-dom, but that didn't stop her from playing Nintendo from dawn until dusk.
Also out of her backpack she revealed her CD player, and happily secured the earphones to her head, bouncing down the sidewalk to the theme of Dungeons and Dragons, oblivious to any judgments by passer-bys. Responsibility? Whatever, Lina preferred to be carefree of the demands in her world.
And in ways that made her a better person than she got credit for.
~*~*~*~
Filia Ul Copt danced onto her patio, feet deliciously bare against the dewy concrete. She piroutted in her neglice, blond hair splaying gracefully around her slender figure with the movement. She loved the very pureness of morning- fresh and beautiful and unexpected, so much so she almost felt a part of it, a whisper in the trees or a nimble dryad. Saichuro was not yet awake, so she felt the morning peace was her own, a private, secluded secret she shared only with nature. She spun in her minimum of clothing some more, the road by the shrine was generally deserted because it was in a wealthy district, and most of its inhabitants were the elderly who had no children. So she worried not, until-
A familiar purple blur rounded the curb, pausing, much to the maiden in question's distress, at her house. The aforementioned turned a brilliant shade of crimson.
The purple blur was none other than Xelloss Metallium, the notorious swindling, practical joking, generally annoying, double-crossing, ever- smiling, indian-giving track runner. The shy, pale-faced members of the computer club feared him, the cheerleaders and jocks snubbed him, yet were leary of him, and Filia Ul Copt abused him. The only reason he wasn't dead was because of his star running skills.
Filia, contrasting quite vastly, was a genuine straight-arrow. She was the goody-good daughter of a shrine owner, a vegetarian, and a grand valedictorian. She was also in choir, and naturally represented the best vocal talent. She was well-known, but quiet, which was sometimes interpreted as snobby. Her extremely high expectations caused her to become flustered when something stood in their way or broke into her perfect, undisturbed logical world. Something like Xelloss.
Xelloss smiled indifferently. "Ohayo gozimas, Filia-chan," he said, wearing his perpetual grin, practically begging for his morning beating. This really made her blood boil. Was he mocking her?
She covered herself protectively. "NAMAGOMI!!!!" In a swirl of vanity that defied all human laws of science, Filia surrendered her forlorn housecoat, and it, providing a moment's privacy, covered her as she shed her neglice, emerging fully clothed in her school uniform and as enraged as a hungry tiger.
Xelloss scratched his neck, still grinning. "Yare, yare...."
"HOW DARE YOU! HENTAI!" Filia screeched, so you could almost imagine the smoke pouring out of her ears. She grabbed a folding chair and immediately began pursuit, her anger evidently pumping her body with adrenaline.
Smiling all the way, Xelloss put his athletic abilities to use, while Filia followed not far behind, chasing him like a woman possessed.
~*~*~*~
Somewhere, in a tidy, middle-class home, a middle-aged woman in a terry-cloth house robe and French curlers was frying bacon. The scene was so commonplace, and the subject such a poster for housewives eveywhere, that it could have taken place in anyone's kitchen. Until-
Gourry Gabriev sat at the table, licking the icing from a large, jelly doughnut. His appearance reeked with football-player appeal, and, like all tough men, he loved his mother's homecooking. So there he sat, random, happy thoughts flickering around his small brain, as he ate doughnuts and listened to the frying pan sizzle. Simplistic, almost effortless morning ritual that guaranteed lots of big goofy mother-son smiles and hopeless remarking on the healthy appetites of big boys.
Gourry pushed his chair away from the table, and stood. "Thanks Okaa- san," he said genuinely. "Your homemade doughnuts are the best."
"Okaa-san" smiled tenderly. "It's nice to know my big boy has such a healthy appetite. I made them just for you, dear." Lots of smiles. Little do mothers know, but their homecooked goodness is probably pumping their sons full of fat and cholesterol.
Gourry grabbed his gym bag. "Ja ne, Okaa-san," he offered while stepping out the door. "I'm going to school now."
"Goodbye, my dear Gourry!" Okaa-san replied lovingly, sticking her head out the door and waving a handkerchief in her morning finery. "Make me proud!"
"Bye, Okaa-san!" he called, charismatically slinging his gym bag over his shoulder in a way that would make girls swoon. His bronzed, muscular arms flexed as he waved.
So thus his morning begun, no worries, no complications, just innocence. Typical in his case.
~*~*~*~
A large pair of blue eyes blinked, studying their reflection. Hands delicately smoothed down violet locks of hair. A girl, looking to be a freshman, posed for the mirror, stunningly perfected down to her polished loafers. She assumed a triumphant pose, admiring her handiwork. Yes, indeed, Amelia wil tesla Sailoon was ready to go to school.
Amelia had a rich father, Philonel, who was the head of a large business tycoon. Therefore, of course she lived in a gigantic mansion, complete with hired, handsome servants and butlers and such. But, she was far from being a rich snob. The freshman was a constant ball of energy, obsessed with drama club and a straight-A student. (Although not quite the straight arrow Filia is.) And she was known to hang around with Lina's crowd, though, by her obviously preppy exterior, she could easily be an elite. But that's Amelia for you.
"Amelia-san, your ride is waiting," a uniformed servant announced from the stairway, as picture perfect as a Disney feature. Full of energy, she bounded down the stairs, her designer leather backpack in tow, and through the elegantly carved mahogany doors thoughtfully held open by yet another servant. There, awaited the shiny, expensive white limosine, the door propped open by the chauffeur, exposing the red velvet interior.
She slid in, smiling a smile that would make Martha Stewart cry, and comfortably seated herself, securing the seatbelt. She must carefully heed all of the laws and be looking out for her welfare. The chauffeur shut the door behind her and walked around, sidling in the driver's seat and turning the ignition key.
"My directions, Amelia-san?" the loyal chauffeur inquired. Amelia practiced her "thoughtful" expression, then replied after careful contemplation. "Take the long route to school, I feel like a relaxing car ride this morning. And you don't have to stop to pick up any friends, just me. Okay?"
"Very well, Amelia-san." They pulled out into the street and drove along at an aimable pace. In high spirits, she produced her copy of the latest play programme, and began a very soulful practice. Weren't mornings wonderful?
~*~*~*~
Zelgadis Greyweirs yawned, and stumbled out of bed, running his hands through his hair. Then he threw his alarm clock across the room.
The sun was already up in the sky, its rays filtering through the curtains. Assuming he wasn't going to get any more sleep, Zel picked up the alarm clock, reading the time. Seven-thirty. Crap. Only ten more minutes until he was supposed to leave. Fortunately, he was used to this phenomenon, and had gotten good at getting dressed and ready in the brief time. He didn't have to stand in front of a mirror for hours combing mousse through his hair, like most of the guys he knew. He was aware of what he was, and didn't change it. Not that mousse would help, anyway. The car wreck had seen to that.
Shedding his pajamas for the school uniform, he dressed, and without a glance in the mirror's direction, trudged toward the bathroom. He spread toothpaste on the bristles of his brush, and cleaned his teeth mechanically, finshing with a final swish of water. There. School, here Zel comes. He drew up his battered school bag, stuffed with unfinished homework, and made his way to the door. He checked his watch. Seven-forty- five. He always left for school at the last moment possible, to avoid the sneers of the girls with their designer handbags, the taunts of the musclemen slinging running shoes over their shoulders.
Years ago, or what seemed like years, Zel always lived in a sort of vaccuum where time mattered little, he and his mother had been out to do some grocery shopping. He was around five or six, at just the age to look forward to such things. Maybe if he begged enough Okaa-san would buy him some strawberry Pocky.
He sat, radiating with little-kid carefree cheeriness, listening to his mother and providing suggestions for the shopping list. The sun was shining, maybe he'd even fingerpainted in kindergarten that day. He didn't recall. Because then something slammed into the car, and he couldn't remember much else, except metal crunching into his tiny body, and then dead silence, endless blackness. He found out later they were hit, by another driver who just wasn't paying attention. He and his mother recovered all right, in the physical sense, beside a few large scrapes that would probably always be there. But after that, Okaa-san wasn't Okaa-san anymore. She quit her job, and cried a lot, and sometimes forgot about taking care of Zel. He learned to fend for himself when she wasn't around. But life was hard for even him. Students at school teased, pointing at his scars. It hurt to see his friends being so cruel. Lots of times, he just ran to the bathroom to hide from them, crying and silently hating the man who collided with them. Mean thoughts for even a first-grader. And-
Zel shook his head, smiling morosely. He didn't want to be troubled by those memories today. He had enough to deal with.
The bell rang as he approached the school, deeming him tardy. It was another day, just like the rest.
~*~*~*~
A cheerleading uniform traveled down the hallway. Or, at least, that's all the male population saw, anyway. Each was trying to get a glimpse of the trademark cleavage beneath it. Indeed, Naga Whiteserpent had enetered the building, surrounded by her posse of cheerleading buddies.
Their blinding, powder blue and white varsity duds so clearly announced their position that they might as well have said "See this uniform? I'm a cheerleader!". The wearers strutted them for obvious emphasis, looking almost patronizing. And Naga was at the head of the group, batting her eyelashes at her cute boy-friends, greeting her fellow girl-friends with blow kisses, and taunting any pasty-complexioned loser in glasses.
Naga wasn't really mean at heart, just a little lacking in the intelligence department. Her intentions were good, but she had no idea why boys kept fainting every time she wore a tube top to the cinema. And for heaven's sake, she thought lip gloss was good for you, and that she was actually doing all of the geeks a lesson in self-confidence when she regularlly made their lives miserable. She was utterly uninformed about how terribly manufactured she was, she took the whole bimbo-cheerleader package hook, line, and sinker. In fact, her idea of a fun afternoon had a lot to do with cheer practice, following Gourry around, giggling with her girlfriends, obsessing over Gourry, talking about Goury, making hearts around Gourry's name in the yearbook, reading fashion magazines, giving herself a pedicure, and making fun of the "losers". And, in particular, finding ways to retaliate against Lina Inverse.
Lina stood out quite visibly in the crowd, once you spotted her hair amidst the flood of students. And, besides the fact that Naga assumed her an obstacle in the way of her quest to Gourry's throne, she would normally be humbly overlooked - the kind of spastic, violent, video-game obsessed girl friends with the scar-faced freak. But, unluckily for Lina, she made a mistake. She talked to Naga's Gourry, and Naga saw her.
Technically Gourry wasn't Naga's, but everyone with an ounce of sense (or if you're Lina and you really just don't care) knew that she's had her eye on him, the star of the high school athletic program, and if Naga had her eye on someone, the rest of the population pretty much backed away, lest they meet a very painful demise. Except Lina. Naga was outraged someone dared to defy her monarchy! Determined to steamroll, like she was used to, the head of the squad was shocked to find that she was evenly matched with the five-four breastless wonder. And that really bugged her.
The warning bell sounded, and the students thinned away as they hurried to class. So much for Lina-hunting. She tearfully departed from her circle of friends and headed to her first period class, where she would spend the duration writing "Naga and Gourry 4ever" in her Biology notebook.
Just on time, the eight o' clock bell chimed, and school began again. Amused, Naga thought idly, 'I wonder what will happen today?'
~*~*~*~
Hee hee, like the Zel thing, fangirls? I wrote it just for you. I estimate this could get really lengthy, so you'll have to stick around for the ride, as intended. But I'll know when to end.
I'm pleased! Are you? Don't just stand, there, then, tell me what you thought! All thoughts welcome!
Me: What will the next chapter be about, Xelloss-kun?
Xel: .... Sore wa himitsu desu. *wink*
Me: Exactly! So...... the faster you review, the faster I write!
Ja ne next chappie! ~