Title: "Bad Day"

Theme: #2 Storm

Rating: PG-13 (for a bit of language)

Word Count: 674

Characters/Pairings: DY

Author's Note: Most of it was written the other day, which was a very VERY bad day. I mean, I only had to stand in the rain, stub my toe hard enough to bleed and crack the nail, etc. just not a good day. So most of this is an outlet for my own bitchiness. And the ending is lame (I couldn't figure out how to end it), but oh well

start-

Yzak Jule was having what had to be the worst of all bad days. Ever. He had woken up late to find that the man who was supposed to have woken him up on time was sleeping on the couch. He'd then proceeded to burn his toast, crack one of his mother's favorite plates, and spill butter all over the counter. No, it had not been a very good morning at all.

The silver-haired boy stalked down the halls of the fucked up school he was forced to go to in the aftermath of the war, cursing that one politician—whatever the hell his name was—who'd insisted that 'the children of war needed to get a complete education and learn the meaning of peace.' That guy could very well say that, since he wasn't that one that had to suffer through seven hours of unimaginable boredom.

"Hey Yzak! Wait up!" he heard from behind him, barely slowly to allow Dearka to catch up to him. "What the heck's up with you today?"

Yzak scowled. "It's just a bad day," he snapped, pushing past a group of younger girls, who scattered like annoying little birds in his wake.

Dearka raised an eyebrow, almost jogging to keep up with the former Duel pilot. "Usually you're just a jerk. But today I think you've topped the bitch scale."

Yzak growled, shooting Dearka a glare that could kill. "Just shut up," he spat, turning the corner sharply. Dearka was so not helping. At all.

The rest of the day dragged by, getting worse by the minute. Some bumbling kid had accidentally spilled spaghetti sauce on him. Followed by the teacher in math actually collecting their homework—which wasn't done—for once. It just wasn't his day.

Yzak's face resembled a storm cloud by the time it was time to go home. He glared the threatening, gray sky, willing it not to rain as he set out for his house, which was only a few minute's walk from the evil torture facility misnamed a school. It was just his luck though that the clouds burst open as soon as it was too late to go back, pouring heavily and soaking the boy within minutes. "Fuck you, weather! Fuck you, life!" he muttered angrily to himself as he sloshed through the growing puddles, water seeping into his clothes, which were now weighting twice as much as usual. This day just could not get any worse. It was impossible.

A laugh brought his attention to the road, drawing another scowl from Yzak as he glared his famous death glare at the former Buster pilot, who was driving his precious car. "Need a lift Yzak? You seem a bit soaked."

Even though he would have liked nothing more than to totally flick his friend off, the only thing Yzak hated more at this minute than pissing people off was being wet and cold. He grudgingly climbed into the passenger seat, sitting in silence as his sodden clothes dripped, the leather seats becoming slick with liquid.

"Well, aren't you going to thank me?" the blonde joked, not seriously expecting any thanks.

Yzak glared at him. But his friend had braved his temper, and this was the only good thing to happen today… "Thanks," he muttered.

Dearka nearly crashed, his head swiveling in surprise. "What did you say?"

"I said fucking thanks," Yzak snapped.

Dearka blinked, then smiled. He had thought Yzak was going insane for a moment, but now everything was back to normal. They drove the rest of the way in silence until the blonde pulled into Yzak's driveway.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow then," Dearka said with a grin.

Yzak paused. "Do you…want to come in? We could play a game or something?" he asked hesitantly. Mistaking Dearka's silence for disproval, Yzak hurriedly put a scowl on his face. "Of course, if you don't want to, that's fine with me—"

Dearka smiled. "I'd love to," he said, turning off the engine. "After all, we're friends. That's what friends do."

-end

Blah. not my favorite, but thats okay. i just dont like the ending. but anyways, yeah.

xxravenwingxx