Amor Fictus

Written by Sakki-san

Anything you haven't heard of belongs to me.

Anything you HAVE heard of, doesn't.

            I shouldn't have come.

            The halls of the school weren't silent, but wherever Fujimiya Ran walked, a path cleared and eyes stared straight at his bandages. By this time, 7:55 Monday morning, the entire student body knew what he had done. By 8:00 even the losers would know.

            He tried to ignore the looks he was getting and fiddled with his locker. He wasn't up for a fight today, so he slowly twisted the dial until it opened.

            …thank you.

            Books away, papers out. He almost dropped his calculus book, knowing that he had to go to that class next and see that teacher next.

            Crawford was not something you wanted to see first thing on a Monday morning. Especially since the stupid bastard seemed to have precognition. Damn! He always seemed to know what kids were lying.

            Ran took a deep breath, shut his locker, and headed down the hall. He felt a tiny drop of sweat slide down the side of his face.

            Hell! I'm not scared! ………I hope…

            He shook his head slightly and shoved right by a group of soccer players, completely failing to notice that one was his English partner. The looks they were giving him were quite different than the brunette's.

            There. The door. That door. The only door without a cluster of kids around it. In fact, there was a three-foot radius of clear space around it. Crawford insisted on this… he hated kids.

            Ran slowly approached the open door and looked inside. There were three other kids in there and Crawford. The hazel gaze moved to the door to see who had just come in, and Ran saw those eyes narrow…but he saw nothing more, because the man's face was hidden by a few sheets of paper.

            Ran growled slightly and stepped inside. The temperature dropped several degrees, and Ran shivered, wondering if he should have brought a sweater to school today. Maybe the orange one…?

            Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would wear it.

            Wait. It was in his locker. He could wear it today.

            Sitting down, Ran looked at the clock. It ticked slowly, directly on time, never early, never late. Just like Crawford. The time when Ran had come in after school, he had arrived a few minutes early, only to find that Crawford wasn't there. The clock read 2:27. Crawford told him to be here by 2:30. What was wrong in being early?

            Ran slumped against a desk to wait, the word problem clutched tightly in his hand. At exactly 2:30 PM, the door in the back of the classroom opened, and out stepped Crawford. He looked calm and collected as usual, but upon seeing Ran his facial expression turned to a sneer.

            The man sat down at his desk.

            "Set out your homework from last night," Crawford instructed not a moment after the bell rang. Every student pulled their homework from their notebook and held it, checking over for mistakes they missed or that their names were indeed on the papers. Then they passed up the papers to the front of the row, where Crawford took them and set them on his desk.

            Ran could feel the gazes directed at him from all the other students. More specifically, the gazes were on his chest and arm. People were wondering what his problem was. Ran, the man who had outwitted the most amazing teacher in the school!

            What was wrong with him?

            "I want you to tell me, Ran," Crawford said, glowering at the only student in his room, "How you got the correct answer and I got the wrong one."

            "Be happy to," Ran snapped, standing in front of the desk and slamming his answer down in front of the black-haired man. Crawford read the problem as Ran verbalized it.

            The further Ran got in his answer, the smaller Crawford's pupils got; when Ran came to the part that Crawford had gotten incorrect, the man was staring at the paper in total disbelief. Ran smirked and finished off his answer.

            "Well? How did I do?"

            "Today's work will be from chapter four, section five. Open your books to page 275. Azuki, begin reading."

            A girl with dark hair blinked in surprise, then looked down at her book and read the paragraphs in a shaky voice. "The sin and cosine system works with triangles. To use this…"

            "Aren't you going to answer me?"

            "You…this…" Crawford could hardly make out coherent words. A student had proved him wrong…proved it! This wasn't possible!

            Ran grinned as Crawford looked up. The grin faded when he didn't see shock or awe, but instead pure rage. He took a step back when he teacher stood up.

            "…using the triangles and angles will help you solve the sin and cosine."

            "To begin this section," Crawford said dryly, "You'll need a protractor. Get yours out right now. If you don't have one, borrow one. Otherwise, tough."

            "Nobody ever proves me wrong."

            "I just did."

            Ran's hands moved into his backpack and pulled out the battered plastic. His eyes were glazed as memories somehow seeped through his flawless wall.

            Ran tried to walk away, but suddenly Crawford grabbed his arm. He hissed and pulled only to meet a more forceful pull in return, dragging him around the side of the desk.

            "Follow the instructions on the next page…"

            "Nobody proves that I'm wrong!"

            "They begin with the sin of the first triangle."

            "Sir…you haven't showed us how to do this ye – "

            "I'm getting to that. Now shut up."

            If he had let himself scream, he might have done something before Crawford's grip left his arm and latched onto his face. If he had understood the enormity of Crawford's rage, he might have never said anything.

            "To do this, start by measuring…"

            "Damn you!" hissed the gold-eyed man shortly before he slammed Ran's head into the chalkboard as hard as he could.

            "Write down the distances when you get them."

            It was like a firework had gone off inside his skull; he felt nothing but immense pain. His eyes were wide as Crawford repeated his performance again and again, finally dropping Ran's limp, dazed figure on the ground.

            "To start the formula…"

            "You stupid little bastard!"

            "…look below the set of instructions for an equation…"

            "I'll kill you for this!"

            "…and apply the measurements into that…"

            "I'll kill you if you tell anyone about this."

            "…so the formula will be complete."

            "Got it?"

            The man gave Ran a dark glare. Then he turned, ripped up Ran's answer, and flung it in the garbage can. Ran continued to sit against the wall, blood running down his back from the tear in his head. Black and red spots danced in his eyes, blinding him whenever he blinked.

            As if to drive his point home, Crawford shoved Ran's discarded backpack into the boy's chest and left. He turned out the lights as he went, and then he locked the door.

            "I'll kill you."

            Almost casually, Ran slumped forward on his desk, his eyes wide and fuzzy. Crawford noticed the movement but ignored it.

            The pencil rolled from Ran's fingers and clattered to the floor, drawing slight attention from the other students. Crawford simply kept on talking.

            "I'll kill you…"

~~~

            At some point, Ran had woken up from his memories and gone back to taking notes. He could copy the rest over later. The book did, after all, hold all the answers. Crawford wasn't the only encyclopedia in the school.

            The bell rang at the expected time, sending every girl and boy scuttling out the door with half-finished papers in hand. Crawford grimaced as the children ran out the door, giggling and laughing as soon as they exited the premises of the hated calculus room. It was lunch time, socialization time! They could talk and scream and yell and chatter and nobody would care.

           Ran was the only student in the room after the others had left. He was, as usual, taking his time in putting things away. He was taking longer today because the memories from hardly a month ago were still playing viciously in his head. The redhead hardly paid attention when a bird ran into the only window in the classroom.

            Although he did notice when Crawford walked up to his desk and stood over him.

            "So where were you?"

            "…the hospital."

            "Why?"

            Ran hissed slowly, the thin breath sliding around his clenched teeth. He refused to look up at his teacher. His hands slowly put the last of the papers into a folder.

            "I asked you a question. I expect an answer."

            "Ask someone else," snapped Ran.

            "Like who? The principal? He already told me something. However…" Crawford glowered down at Ran, who still would not look up. "…I don't believe that you would try to kill yourself."

            Ran tensed.

            "…what do you know about me?"

            "As much as I want to know."

            Ran's head snapped up. Instantly he found himself caught in his teacher's icy glare.

            "What the hell does that mean?"

            "I can get any information on you that I want." Crawford's eyes narrowed. "Now tell me why you were at the hospital."

            Ran pulled back a little. This was starting to scare him, and badly.

            "…I…"

            Without warning, Crawford seized Ran's collar and jerked it down. Ran snarled, leaping out of his seat and staggering back.

            "I suppose something happened that caused those bandages. Or are they just for decoration?"

            Ran could hardly believe what he was hearing. Was Crawford out of his mind?! This man was…was interrogating him!

            And doing a damn good job of it, too.

            "G…what the hell do you want with me?"

            "I want you to die."

            No surprise there.

            "And? What else?" he snapped, sweat trickling down his face.

            "…It's none of your business."

            Ran was dearly tempted to snort and say, "that's because you don't know why", but he knew better than to test Crawford's rage, especially after he'd done it once before. Who knew what the man was hiding in that desk?

            "...let me go to lunch."

            "As you wish." Crawford turned and walked back to his desk.

            It was Ran's greatest desire to lunge at that man, wrap an arm around his neck, and pull back as hard as he could, but he could never try that. He'd seen Crawford hit a student before. Just once, when he was a freshman, his first year here; he'd been passing by the room when Crawford smacked the girl for talking back to him. She had literally flown across the room and crashed into a desk. The next day, she was wearing a brace and had quit calculus.

            Ran did not want to test Crawford's strength at a time like this.

            He picked up his stuff and stalked out of the room, feeling the ever-present gaze on his back.

            Rage seethed and boiled in his veins. He hardly looked where he was going as he passed through the near-empty halls back to his locker. When he got there, he jammed his book and folder inside, swearing both internally and externally. He pulled out a fistful of coins and his orange sweater.

            "Damn bastard…thinks he rules the world…I'll kill you, he says…I'll kill HIM…" Ran stalked back down the hall after slamming the metal contraption shut as hard as he could. "Fuck him…I'll just quit…Yohji quit his classes, didn't he?...wait, he has a 2.12 GPA…"

            Ran was too caught up in his inner monologue to notice the door he passed by until it opened and someone stumbled out. They crashed into him. He looked down and saw dark brown hair, a t-shirt with a soccer ball sewn into it…

            It was Ken!

           Then Ran took a closer look. Ken's face was red and streaked with tears, his hair ruffled, and his clothes disheveled. The boy's legs also seemed weak and shaky as he tried to move away from Ran and back down the hall.

            "Ken?" he asked, confused. The boy's head whipped up to look at him, then fell back down. A single hand reached up and crushed against his face.

            "I-I'm fine!" the brunette said a little too quickly. "I…I just…I was only…"

            Ran's hand brushed against the bare skin on Ken's arm. It was burning hot.

            "I was…I needed help on the…the homework. Honestly, n-nothing's wrong…"

            "Your face says otherwise."

            Ken jerked in surprise. Ran suspected that Ken hadn't known exactly who was talking to him until the boy heard his voice. Swiftly the younger man pulled away, straightening his hair and clothes. His eyes were glistening with hidden tears.

            God, he's just like me…

            "Oh…oh, I-I'm sorry…I d-didn't mean to…mean to…"

            Suddenly, Ken started to crumble. His legs gave way and he almost crashed to the floor. He would have made it had Ran not caught him and sank to his knees along with the exhausted boy.

            "I…I…I'm sorry…I…" Ken shook uncontrollably.

            Is he cold? Ran pulled his sweater from his shoulder and draped it over Ken's own. The boy clutched it as close as he could and pushed the left sleeve over his mouth. Ran watched as Ken inhaled deeply, then moved the sleeve and exhaled.

            Then he seemed to realize who it was that had given him the sweater. His face went a deep shade of red, and he looked away quickly.

            "Oh! God, I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause trouble for you."

            "It wasn't a problem." Ran glanced at the door. "What happened in there?"

            Ken jerked and stared ahead. Ran looked back at him. This was exactly how he acted when someone asked about his past.

            "N-nothing. Nothing at all. No, nothing."

            Ran glanced at the nameplate beside the door.

            German II

            Mr. Schuldig

            "…I think something happened besides nothing…what were…" He caught himself in time. If he didn't want people asking about his past, he shouldn't ask about others'.

            "…please…don't…don't ask."

            "Ok." Ran stood up. "So are you ok?"

            "I'm…" Ken weakly got to his feet, the sweater still hanging around his shoulders. "…I'm fine." He looked to the side of Ran and blushed, a tiny smile forming on his face. "…thank you."

            Ran hesitated. The soccer player's hair was hanging loosely in his eyes, and he still seemed ruffled, although it was a happy ruffled look. He was blushing, and with the sweater like that, he looked really cute…

            …oh…no…I'm…

            "…Ah!" Ken suddenly reached out, holding Ran's sweater. "Here. Th…thank you for letting me borrow it."

            Ran wanted to yell out at this, but didn't. He'd wanted to let Ken wear it forever…damn, did that boy look adorable…

            He felt a blush cross his own face as he took the orange mass back. For one brief moment, their hands touched.

            Ran looked at his orange sweater, then back up at Ken, who had picked up his books and was heading off to lunch, casting occasional glances back at Ran. It was as if he wanted the redhead to follow him, to talk to him, to sit with him at lunch…

            The ultimate status symbol.

            Ran narrowed his eyes and shook his head. No, no, no. He didn't have time to think about status. He was already at the bottom of the pile. Why bother to fight your way somewhere above that, only to wind up back underneath everybody when you blink?

            He glared around at the lockers and started to head down to the lunchroom when the door next to him opened suddenly. A teacher stepped out, one with fiery red-orange hair and a very casual appearance. He flicked off the lights and didn't seem to notice Ran until he turned around.

            "Eh? Oh, what do you want?"

            "…nothing."

            "Then get to lunch. Don't want to be late, do you?" The man grinned and sauntered off with an air of undeniable grace. Ran glared after him. There had to be something connecting this teacher, that room, and Ken.

            "…I…" Ran shook his head. "Lunch. Now."

            On the way down, he stopped at his locker to pick up his CD player for some reason. A recently burned disc was inside, halfway through some song Yohji had claimed was the best song in the world. Ran snorted and slipped the earphones over his head, then headed down to the lunchroom. He completely avoided the lunch line. Food was not on today's agenda.

            He slumped down on his bench and listened to the music while watching the other students mosey around and chat.

            My tea's gone cold, I'm wonderin' why I

            Got out of bed at all

            The morning rainclouds out my window

            And I can't see at all

            Even if I could it'd all be gray

            Put your picture on my wall

            It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad…

           Ran narrowed his eyes. The song was a deft reminder of his past. He mouthed the words as unnoticeably as possible.

            Drank too much last night, got bills to pay

            My head just feels in pain

            I missed the bus and there'll be hell today

            I'm late for work again

            And even if I'm there they'll all imply

            That I might not last the day

            And then you called me and it's not so bad

            It's not so bad…¹

            That reminded him more of Yohji, except that Yohji didn't work.

            A group of kids pointed at Ran and hid behind their books. At that exact moment, the redhead sneezed once.

            Damn bitches.

            The song finished and changed to one that Ran didn't pay attention to. He was more concentrated on trying to look like he wasn't focusing on the group of kids who were obviously talking about him. Too bad he was sitting at such a distance that he couldn't hear them.

            He closed his eyes a little and tried to shut out everything around him. For a few minutes it worked; the constant murmur of voices surrounding him faded into a distant buzz, and the world was nothing but darkness.

            Darkness…just like the moment after that huge force struck him in the chest.

            His eyes snapped open. NO. No. He wasn't going to remember anything right now. He couldn't. It could make him hurt someone here, and he didn't want to hurt anyone right now.

            Not in the middle of school, anyway. Although in Crawford's class, it might not be such a bad idea…

           He snickered slightly to himself and hit the 'stop' button on the CD player. He left the earphones in and just sat there, watching life pass around him.

           Here and there, groups of friends (girls, boys, or mixed) chattered about new loves and who was going out with who, when Homecoming would be (which was next week), who was going to be ridiculed (most likely it would be Ran or the other four losers who didn't sit at a table), and what parties were going on that Friday. Lavishly decorated lives hid true faces.

            Ran glanced over at the jock's section of the lunchroom and sought out the soccer table. There they were, the pride of the school: the championship winning soccer team for the fall season. Would the spring season yield such good results? Had practice for the next week been cancelled due to the prediction for November snow?

            Not like Ran would ever know.

            The brunette, Ken, was sitting amidst the other boys, laughing and talking as if there was nothing wrong in the world. Ran narrowed his eyes slightly. There had certainly been a problem earlier, but…hell! He shook his head viciously.

            Ken was nothing more to him than a partner on a project. Ken was a jock, Ran was a loser. The former was popular, the latter was hardly acknowledged. One was on top of the world, the other was at his feet.

            So why did you give him your sweater? Honestly. If you were acting like yourself, you would have shoved him away and just walked on by…

            Ran looked at the floor and turned his CD player back on. So maybe he didn't think of Ken as merely another boy. But certainly he didn't like him!

            Ah, but is that what your heart says?

            A growl escaped his mouth, and he turned the volume up louder. He did *not* like Ken. It was impossible. He didn't like anybody, and nobody liked him in return.

            …right?

¹ 'Thank You', by Dido. J-chan wrote a BradxSchu songfic about it.