Nyoh, poor Hayate.

-Mutter mutter- Chibi Hayate… -grumble-

Yeah, not much to say except… I FINISHED NINJA GAIDEN! WOO HOO!

Anyway… enjoy!

And so that means that d is the square root of…

Dear god. What is it the square root of? I am so completely and utterly lost.

And then you add pi. Makes me think of pie. And I am actually hungry, come to think of it…

He stood up, went down to the kitchen. His father was standing there, drinking some coffee.

"Why aren't you working, Hayate?"

What!? "I simply came down to get something to eat! I am working, for your information!"

His father turned around so they were fully facing each other. "I don't believe you,"

"Quite frankly, I think I would know better then you, considering I am the one doing the work upstairs, not you. Therefore, as you were not in the room with me, chances are that you have no idea, whereas I have a lot of idea,"

"Hayate, don't be smart with me,"

"I'm not being smart! I am simply telling you the truth!"

His father slammed the coffee cup down with enough force for a dent to form in the wooden table. "Hayate, say one more word and I am going to go over there and hit you,"

"What?" he spluttered indignantly before he could stop himself. "You're going to punish me for not working, when in actual fact I am working, and because I am working yet you believe me to not be working, you're going to come over here and hit me? And you want me to work more, yet you have the audacity to punish me whenever I do?"

With three strides, his father was in front of him, grabbing his arm and hitting it hard enough for him to reel. "Never speak to me like that. Remember your place, Hayate,"

Before he knew what had driven him, he had lifted his sore arm and hit his father, his own father, solidly across the face.

"Never accuse me of not being honest with you. I might be a bad student; I might have a bad work ethic. But I am never dishonest to you,"

The next thing he knew, he had been thrown out of the house. Literally. The door locked behind him as he stared vacantly at the night sky, walking where his feet wanted to take him.

Seemed to be the park. Seemed to always be the park. Must have been something about it that made him always turn up there.

Distantly, he could hear drunken males brawling. Not the nicest thing to listen to, but what else could he do? He sat down on the nearest bench, closing his eyes and inhaling the fresh air deeply, trying to stem the growing pang of guilt which was steadily mounting in his chest.

I can't go back there tonight. But I have nowhere else to go.

Suddenly, the distinct crack of somebody stepping on sticks and bracken was audible. He blinked, alert, as a shadowy figure emerged from the bushes.

"Hayate? What are you doing here?"

Ryu? What is he doing here? "I could ask the same for you. Don't sit next to me, you're drunk. I can tell by your voice,"

He resisted the urge to make a face. Whether it was his half sister, best friend or anyone else, he had no urge to go out and drink himself silly, and didn't understand how anybody else could, either, and was not afraid to voice his opinion about it.

"I'm not drunk. Have we not had this conversation earlier?"

A sigh escaped his lips, louder then he had originally intended. "We have. And I still think that you are drunk, as you are slurring your words, can probably barely stand up straight and are in the park at this godforsaken hour when anybody could mug you. Either drunk or insane. I'm not your mother, but it really is… stupid,"

"Oh, Hayate," He could feel Ryu sitting down despite his earlier request, somewhat unsteadily, but still managing it. "Don't be mad,"

"You are fucking drunk," he muttered, his bad mood being legitimate reason for him to swear, at least in his opinion. "You reek of booze. Why the hell do you do it? If you drink too much, your liver will burn away and you might as well shoot yourself in the head. Although, it will feel like you've shot yourself in the head tomorrow morning, and when it does, don't come complaining to me,"

"Hayate…?" The question was almost an afterthought. "What's wrong? Why are you mad?"

I've never really dealt with Ryu that much when he's drunk, because I usually go away. He sounds like a young child. But a… an extremely mature young child. Although, how mature can you be when you go out and get yourself drunk?

"Why not?"

"That's no reason," Ryu leaned forward on the bench, nearly toppling over in the process of doing so. "You're mad. With me? With someone else?"

"I'm mad with everybody at the moment, Ryu. Don't take it personally. Just right now, I think you're an idiot. And I don't care so much if you take that personally, because it's true,"

"What's wrong?"

"Look. Ryu. I don't want to talk to you when you're half pissed out of your mind, alright? Just one of those things. Can you just leave me alone?"

"I…" Ryu suddenly looked deeply hurt. "Alright. If that's what you truly want,"

"Yeah, it is!" the angry exclamation was out of his mouth before he could stop it. "Piss off! Go wherever the hell you were and get even more pissed. See if I care. See if anyone gives a shit about you. Because they sure as hell don't give a shit about me,"

"Hayate, don't be like this…"

Ryu's imploring tone was not enough to break the ice around his bad mood.

"Shut up, Ryu, before I make you. And piss off, as well,"

"But Hayate… I want to stay with you,"

He shoved his friend less-then lightly, but Ryu held his ground. "Hayate, please, let me stay,"

"Stop it. Now you sound like you're in love with me or something. You really are drunk,"

A slightly almost… distressed expression crossed Ryu's features. "Hayate, what's wrong?"

"Stop bugging me!"

Ryu sighed softly, the vapour just visible in the darkness. "Why won't you talk to me any more? What's changed between us? I don't want to lose you, Hayate…"

"Quit it. Now," he turned to face his inebriated friend. "Bad enough you get drunk. Now it sounds like I'm your property, your long-lost lover or something. Quit it before I find some painful way to make you sober. Not to mention the alcohol smell is hanging off you, like a… uh, bad smell. And you're trying to make nice, deep and meaningful conversation with me when you're drunk? Not a chance, Ryu, not a chance,"

"I love… Ayane. Not you," Ryu sounded even more out of it by this stage, as though he was groping through mountains of cotton wool to even speak coherently. "And Irene. And…"

"Now… you just sound like a first class whore," he muttered under his breath.

Ryu stood up, slowly and unsteadily, but managing it. "You obviously don't want my company, so I will take my leave,"

"Perhaps if it was actually company, something you would remember in the morning I would want it. As is, I don't. You know, I've got to think of my shoes and you not puking on them. Thanks anyway,"

A sad expression was on his friend's face as Ryu slowly walked away. Almost made him feel guilty, until he remembered that the chance of his friend actually remembering the conversation was below zero, which made him feel better.

Hopefully Father's unlocked the house for me, so I'm not stuck out in the cold all night.

He got up off the chair, stretched his aching muscles and headed home.