Notes: Not as fecking awesome as the 'prologue' - no, the chapter title DOESN'T mean anything - Ryu-Oh get's a happy little role, here, so 'ware the crappy characterization. I'm working on getting this a plot and a good chapter length. No music references just yet.

Summary: This is AU. Kurogane and Fye meet at college. Kurogane wonders what the hell he did to deserve this. Let the stalking commence.

Pairings: Slight Kurogane and Fye.

Rating: T, for language, drug reference, violence and a Weapon of Mass Destruction.

Disclaimer: Yeah, still led astray.

Stalk Me Not

1

Ships That Sink

The recreation center had two stories. Large windows, reflecting the dull sunlight, and poplar trees crowding around it, as tall as the first floor. The sign above the main entrance was black with plain gold lettering. Inside was cool, as it was almost year round; during the winter the temperature outside was cold enough that it made the inside of the building seem warm. Every once in a while if it was really cold one of the jackass staffers at the reception desk would hijack the AC controls and turn it up. It was easy to figure out it was a secretary or office person because none of the instructors were that stupid. The temperature was set to a certain degree because the people in the classes were doing so much physical activity they didn't need their environment to be warm.

The only exception to the rule was the pool, and that had a separate heating system. Lucky bastards.

Today was one of those days when one of those fecking dipshits fucked with temperature controls. My god, do they teach you nothing in receptionist school? (If there was a receptionist school. I mean, there were schools for just about everything else. Like how to be a dumbass. These guys, they fucking aced it.)

I muttered angry obscenities as I taped up my knuckles, getting ready for my boxing class. My black tee was already getting a little clingy as I flexed my hands experimentally. I knew I would be dripping by the time my class was over. That was gross. It was life, but it was gross.

Either someone needed to strangle those assshats, or the system needed to be rewired to benefit everyone.

I guess I wasn't alone in my hatred - a few of the other guys commented about the change in temperature. In fact, they commented vehemently.

I muttered hello to a few of them, the ones I knew in passing, and stashed my things in my locker, then left and entered the main room. A couple people were already there, and none of them looked very happy about the AC. I sighed and did my best to ignore it as I leaned against the wall, flexing each of my fingers in the wrapping, make sure it was fixed securely.

Hopefully someone dragged the prissy paper pushers out back and shot them. Fuckers.

--smn—

It was seven by the time I got back to the dorms. It had taken me fifteen minutes to walk from the bus stop to the campus; I rode the public transit because I refused to get a car, although I had my drivers license. I figured it was a good idea to know how to drive, even if I didn't - unlike some of these assholes who fished their licenses out of the boxes of their favorite cereal. Fecking dipwads.

It was that time of the year when it got dark early, and cold besides that. But I, with my duffel bag slung over my shoulder and scowl firmly in place, took my time, even though I was in nothing but a pair of worn jeans and a flimsy tee. The cold didn't quite get to me like the heat did.

The campus was quiet; only a few students were out and about, and those few were heading home or off to the dorms, anyway. Seven might have been early, but it was college, and everyone had papers and research and projects to do.

Oddly, I wasn't surprised when I saw none other than Fye sprawled out on one of the backless benches as I walked down a path between two buildings, unmoving and seemingly asleep.

He was wearing a long sleeved shirt under a tee, and neither looked very warm. His skin seemed so pale that looking at it I just felt cold, and his facial expression was held in a sort of grimace.

I couldn't tell what the fuck he was doing. Sleeping? Talking to the voices in his head? Contacting the mother ship? Like fuck I knew.

I walked past him like I didn't even notice his presence. As I walked away, though, I could feel eyes on my back, and I suppressed a shiver.

Something about Fye was really… wrong.

From his elastic smile to his deceptive eyes and his soft cooing noises and his fake laugh.

He was fake, fake, fake.

And it bothered me.

--smn--

When I got to my room, I noticed one thing.

My roommate was under his bed, and he seemed to be very stuck.

Scowling harder than before, I plopped my bag down by the door and crossed over to crouch down by his feet.

"And just what the fuck are you doing?" I growled, resting my forearms on my knees.

I could hear a muffled cough coming from somewhere under the bed. "Uh… Right now… I'm trying to get out…"

His left foot twitched feebly and I was half tempted to leave him to his own sick demise. But I guess that this situation was like watching an animal in a poacher's trap; you either shoot it or release it.

If I had a gun, I'd shoot this guy.

I shifted and placed both hands under the frame, testing to see if I could lift it without the entire bed falling apart. I could, and it all seemed safe; I told him to get ready to roll out and tipped the bed to the side, careful for any signs of it falling apart. Sometimes dorm beds were fucking cheap.

And out popped Ryu-Oh, in all his stupid, dirty, college freshman glory.

I glared down at him as he fastened an uneasy, near sheepish grin on his face. "Now tell me what the fuck made you get under your goddamn bed?" I growled out slowly, letting the bed drop with a thud.

He opened his mouth, shut it, and blinked. Stupidly.

"Well. About an hour ago, I could have told you. But after I got stuck while I was trying to get out, I completely forgot."

"Oh, that so?"

Gun. Hand. Now.

He nodded. I refrained from strangling him and throwing his dead body out the window. But only just.

"Thanks for your help, though. I thought I would be stuck under that bed forever!"

Forever is a really long time. Asswhore.

"Man, it smelled down there, too."

I was tempted - very tempted - to stuff him back where he came from and leave him there this time. However I huffed, crossed over to my own bed and collapsed onto it - not from fatigue, I didn't have overly much of that, but more to get away from Ryu-Oh and his amazing Shit-For-Brains Acrobatics.

There was a thump, like a body hitting a hard surface, and I groaned and strained to merge my skull with my mattress.

Ryu-Oh strikes again.

THUMP.

And again.

It was a long time before I finally got to sleep.

And a long time before the thumping noises ceased.

The two had nothing to do with each other. (Sarcasm, bitch.)

--smn—

It was Nine by the time I woke up. Nine exactly, because I had set my alarm, and said alarm was lodged halfway in the wall by my head. It was lodged in the wall because I put it there, goddamnit, and I'd be damned before I tugged it back out. Plaster flaked off and dusted my sheet.

"Kurogane, you're going to have to PAY for those damages, you know." A groggy, sleep choked voice spoke up.

Ah, Ryu-Oh. Exactly what I DON'T want to hear in the morning.

"Shaddup, twit." I ground out from beyond a clenched jaw and a head full of cotton. Three months into the Fall Semester and I was amazed I hadn't hamstrung the boy yet.

Anything else he had to say was tuned out as I rose, tossed the covers aside, and shook the sleep out of my body. I stretched for a few moments, then grabbed a towel and change of clothing and headed out, hoping to catch a shower.

I was in luck, as at this time in the morning there were generally plenty of late comers who preferred to sleep in. But the showers were very near empty when I came in.

I undressed, showered, donned a black tee and black jeans, and realized I was hungry - but I was going to be late to my first class of the day if I stopped off at the cafeteria, which was in the opposite direction I would head to get to the History room. Usually I was never hungry in the morning, so this was never a problem, but today wasn't shaping up very well.

So far it looked like a rejected cookie cutter had attacked it whilst drunk off its ass.

I sighed in a rather disgruntled fashion as I walked back down the hall towards my room, absentmindedly drying off my hair along the way.

By the time I'd gotten to the doorway, I decided to just hit a vending machine for something quick along the way. I entered the dorm room, hung up my towel, ignored Ryu-Oh as he attempted to make a Weapon of Mass Destruction using only left-overs from something his mom had sent him a week or so ago (My God, it smelled foul) and a handful of sporks filched from the cafeteria, gathered up my work, stuffed my wallet in my back pocket, and left.

Just as I shut the door, I heard Ryu-Oh exclaim something eagerly, and something crashed to the floor. The rest of the cacophony was muffled through the door, and grew fainter as I moved away, quickly.

I seriously didn't now how the hell I lived with that kid for this long without snapping.

Maybe the boxing classes were helping, I don't know.

I stopped off on the second floor in front of a random machine and dug out my wallet, grabbing a few creased bills.

Then something circled around my neck, and all I could think was, Sincewhen are octopi LANDanimals!

"Puppy!"

And it was him. Fye. Campus gossip himself, in the flesh, once again, and my god, when he said puppy, was he referring to me?

"What?" Most importantly, his arms were securely wrapped around my neck, proving to me that no octopus had suddenly grown legs and attacked me. I began to rethink this reassurance, though, as I tried to pry the blond off of me, failing in the first few attempts. Finally, though, I extracted him from my presence and turned to face him.

He smiled. And I hated that smile.

"Puppy."

"... I heard you. Are you call-"

He reached up and messed with my hair and it felt weird, like he was trying to rub static electricity into my scalp. It made me feel sleepy. I jerked away. "Stop that!" I scowled. "Are you calling me a puppy?"

And I don't know why I asked, because it was Fye and Fye was just the type of person to call me a dog. So why did I ask? ... Why?

Cause I was hoping to God that I was wrong.

"Ahhh..." He near-crooned, with a half smile, half satisfied look on his face. "Yeah."

Oh. Damn.

"Well, don't."

"Ah, but, Puppy, why not?"

Because you're a manwhore!

"Because I don't want you to!"

Smile. "But puppies grow up into big doggies."

Scowl. "I don't care."

"Are you not a doggy?" He smiled and his eyes were clouded and I knew he wasn't quite there, but I had the feeling he was more lucid than he let on at the moment. "Are you a wolf, then?"

I grimaced. I scowled. I glared at his smiling, drowsy face. "Neither."

And then his smile seemed almost calculating for a moment and I didn't know if that made me feel better or not, because it proved he had more control over his brain than the entire campus actually thought; but it proved he was hiding something, and he was hiding it behind that smile.

"Then who are you?"

So this was his game?

"Kurogane."

Aw, shit, now I went and told him my fucking name. Next thing I know, he's going to ask me 'boxers or briefs?' (Gaygaygayagayagaygaygaygay.)

"Well, Kuro-poo," (what?) "don't you remember? The vending machine doesn't take dollar bills. You have to use change." While I was sputtering over his complete massacre of my name, he dug into one of his pockets and produced a handful of coins. Then he leaned around me, against me, saying, "I'm returning the favor!"

I broke out of my indignant little world in time to hear the sound of change going through the coin slot in the machine behind me. I twisted, and saw Fye's long, pale fingers punching three keys. He leaned down, brushing up against me more and more, and popped up, all smiles.

"Jelly Beans!"

And he brandished a small packet of a candy I suddenly hated with a passion.

"What... What the hell do you think you're doing?" I yelled, loud enough to echo through the sparsely populated hallways - it figures that rooming with Ryu-Oh, Wannabe Mad-Scientist Extraordinaire, for three months, I'd finally snap when Fye, Druggy Extraordinaire, waved a package of Jelly Beans in front of my face. Did he mean for me to eat those?

Fye opened the package while I yelled at him, and extracted two candies from it.

He looked up at me and smiled a smile that, had I been in my right mind, would have made me nervous as all Monkey Hell. "Kuro-nyan looks funny when he's angry!"

That did it. "Stop calling me stupid fucking names yo-"

I really shouldn't have even opened up my fecking mouth. Really. Cause that fucking crazy drug boy took the opportunity he'd created on purpose to pop the candy into my mouth.

I promptly choked on it.

When I finally managed to get it down, I panted for a moment. Then.

"What the fuck is fucking wrong with you you fucking loopy bastard? You just tried to fucking kill me!" I reached for him, for his throat, but he seemed to know exactly what I was thinking, and had hopped back a little, out of range.

Thus began The Chase.

It was one of many Chases. This one... this one was just the first.

It was also the most aggravating, since it made me late for my History Lecture.

-Ships That Sink-

-END-

1. I want a beta. The only thing I require you to know front and back are tenses. Past, past perfect, etc.

2. Go read I Dream of Kuropii by Hikari Kaitou. It's HILARIOUS. And makes me squirm.