Disclaimers woo I own none of the characters, storyline or fascinating plot of the original, but thanks for making me put this here because I am sure everyone was under the impression I own any part of YYH.
The minute hand slowly moves from the three to the four. Only forty-five more minutes to go, my head falls to the table as visions of my grim and horrid death by boredom I was destined to face play in my mind. Study hall is pointless.
"It is quite an interesting change of pace to see you in school and might I add with clothes on." A teasing voice tickles my neck with each syllable.
I growl at the pressed invasion of my personal space.
"What."
"My offer still stands; in fact it would by my pleasure."
I stand up lean in close to my victim until our noses touch, my hand slides up the back of his head sliding effortless through deceptively silken green lock. My fingers curl grasping the strand painfully in between them. Yanking back I reiterate my original response,
"Not interested"
He grabs the back of his sore scalp eyes burning with pure hatred and storms out. The whispering starts immediately.
"Did you see that?" One voice chimes
"Yeah, doesn't he know?" Another student whispers rather loudly
"He is lucky Sensui is not here." Yet another grating voice adds.
Fed up with the whole thing, I throw my chair back yank up my books and head out. I completely ignore the calls and threats made by the study hall student-teacher. Promises, promises I comment mentally as the door closes silently behind me muffling sound of the teacher irate women behind the wooden door. I need to be outside.
"Hm" I muse lost in my own world as I transform the mundane yellow number two pencil into an instrument of art. I grasp wooden tool dipping in strokes. The gray lines flow from the tip like liquid metal. I flip the wooden apparatus over erasing small lines, rubbing and blending darker ones, all the while searching for any missed clean spots on my finger tips. I relinquish the lover's grip I have on my servant and place it down beside me. I turn my sketch book around I study the rise and fall of the wings decidedly happy on the out come my eyes slowly drift over to the face, passing over the junction of feather and smooth flesh.
"No" I say wrinkling my nose. The drawing was flawless to the average eye, but something was missing, it seemed empty.
"Hello." A voice calls interrupting my thoughts and more importantly disturbing my much desired solitude.
I close my book and glare upwards.
"You are right Kurama he does look like a kitten."
Before I could respond I fell a presence slide in behind me then wrap it self around me.
"This is Shurizu" a very familiar and most surely to close for comfort, voice whispers in my ear.
"What do you want?" I growl as pleasantly as possible.
Kurama's wandering hand is his own response which in turn gets a yelp along with a brutal shove out of me and a low chuckle out of the Amazonian creature in front of me.
"I am here to pick up my little brother Kazuma." He says after regaining her stoic attitude
"Right and you thought of all people I would know where he is." I slowly say with my patent pending look of undiluted sarcasm.
The extremely tall chick laughs, "I already know where my brother is we found him fifteen minutes ago."
I raise my eyebrow and Kurama guiltily slide from behind me. He attempts to tiptoe around the girl, Shuirz I think her name is. She grabs his arm and pulls him back to center stage. "But then," she continues with an uneasy red head in her grasp. "Your b…" Kurama spun around to look at her, "Your friend here decides we should search the whole campus to find you."
I was staring at Kurama the whole time, watching his facial expressions run the gambit from giddy to panic to relieved and back to giddy in a matter of three minutes. "Well, I wanted to know if you wanted to leave early today." I am about to say that I leave early everyday but he quickly chimes in "Legally."
"Hn, what is the fun in that?" I get up to get my stuff and like gum on the hot concrete he his stuck to my back. "Stay here." I say prying him off of me. I don't even turn around because I know what I will see. That look has broken my stead fast will more times than I care to remember.
The halls are empty? Everyone is still in class, I mental answer my self. Walking up to my locker I get the feeling some one is watching me, I glance over my shoulder, shit I hate always being right.
"Damn, do you ever get a hint?" I grumble to the boy leaning against the opposing wall of lockers.
"You best say you are sorry for what you did earlier." He says cockily
"Yea, I am sorry you are an ass now fuck off."
He lifts off himself from the locker, "Fine. Have it your way." He strolls off.
My eyes immediately roll in the response of his departure. I get back to the task at hand getting my stuff and leaving this place early, legally I add. I position my hands on my combo lock, seven left, twenty right, pass the seven and ten left. I bang on the locker and wiggle the handle. The locker swing open and I stare at my locker trying to figure out what I need out of it. I blink my eyes a couple of times because for some reason the light from the hall which is illuminating my locker has become dimmer, as if some one very big was standing behind me. I decide whatever I needed could wait for the moment. I slowly close my locker and attempt an exit.
My attempt fails miserably as a hand clamps onto the back of my head driving my forehead into my closed locker.
"You must be Hiei." A dark voice whispers in my ear barely auditable above the hum bouncing around inside my head.
My knack for a lack of better judgment comes into play when I respond, "Yes and you must be an asshole."
The not so happy to see me boy spins me around so that I am nose to chest with him. Having compassion for my situation, being of short stature in all, he brings it upon himself to lift me up.
"Keep your hands off of my boy." He growls ice blue eyes dripping with anger.
His boy. Who is his boy? I haven't touch anyone male of female for that matter so am at a lost for words however that doesn't stop my mouth. "Look, if you were doing anything right he wouldn't have come to me in the first place." What the hell I am I saying? The punch to the gut tells me he wasn't all that happy about my last statement. I attempt to explain myself or dig a deeper grave depending on how fast and how well my brain and tongue decide to work together, but presently I am in the process of trying to cough up a disengaged lung.
"Itsuki is mine stay the hell away from him."
"What? That green haired..." Think before you talk, think before you talk I hear my under used conscious say, "That green haired leader of the fuck-me freak squad, I wouldn't put my foot up his ass." My conscious throws his hands in the air and walks out mumbling something about a funeral.
Granted I am not the biggest person but I was not going to let this over sized under sexed punk beat me with out some retaliation. I kick out and nail him in the chin with my steel toe boots, I was aiming a bit higher but contact is contact.
"Ouch" he growls letting his vice like grip on my personage loosen as he stumbles back a couple of steps. Take that you mother….uff. My mental touchdown dance is quickly brought to a halt as his black oxford and my breast bone collide. After a couple of quick punches to the face and upper body I soon forget the reason I was celebrating in the first place. I fall to the ground cursing the fact I did not run.
His hands yank my body up from the ground with a newly charged vigor. My bones shift as he tosses me to the other side of the hall crashing my body against the odd numbered lockers. I brace myself not wanting to fall and admit defend I stand upright in a daze with a smirk on my face.
"Is that all you got, bitch?" I choke out after spitting another piece of tooth out.
"Hn, I proved my point. I don't want to kill you, even though that would be so very easy to do." He straightens out his shirt re-slicks back his hair and walks down the hall whistling.
I take my first real breath and almost pass out from the pain. I steady myself and walk down the hall toward the exit my eyes never leave the floor as each painful step brings me closer to my escape. The soft taps of lightly placed footsteps barely register in my mind but the cool touch and icy voice slaps me into reality.
"I see you met my dark-angel." He says without stopping.
I stagger to the door lean on the handle and pass out. I fall not caring how or where I land. Stubbordness and pride can only keep you upright and walking for so long, and mine had just worn out.
