A/N: Yeah, so.. guess I'm still working on this? x'DDD LOL. Warning: this might start to get dicey for you Panty x Brief shippers out there. So if you aren't so keen on other ships, you might want to step out now before I start ruining things for you ^^''.. This chapter is a bit short, but I'll try to keep cranking them out~

4. Moving On

Stocking had been right about a few things, and he wished he had listened to her:

1) Angels were not human. They were less compassionate, and liable to stab you in the back. Angels weren't even angels-.. Not the version he had learned about, anyway.

2) He was stupid for chasing Panty so long. Naïve. Brief found himself so disgusted now with his dream. How could he have let her step on him for so long? Gone through so much for her, without a reward? She had never once been nice to him, unless it was in her damn favor. He could see that now. His bangs were gone, and they made life so much clearer.

3) Humans really were as weak as Stocking said they were. He was broken-hearted and crippled from the entire afternoon at the church the other day. Not only that, but the walk home had given him a raging head cold, which kept his nose running and head full and aching. He blamed it all on Panty.

Final exams, some of the most important of his life, were rushing over his head like a massive tide. He needed to do well to get into a good college, to prove his worth to his father so he could inherit the stupid business. They started after the weekend, which was fast approaching. He felt too sick to do anything but stare at his desk, arms crossed, wishing again and again he had his bangs so he could hide his sad face and close his eyes without being fussed at for dozing. The teacher droned—a mosquito in the back of his mind. His nose was runny, and he had to keep sniffling, which eventually made him self-conscious enough to excuse himself to the bathroom. The teacher was miffed that he had to leave in the middle of her lecture, but it couldn't be helped. Brief needed to get out of there for other reasons too.

Panty was in that class with him, and she was sitting to the far left, in the back. Her feet were up on the desk, eyes closed, breath softly snoring. Blatantly asleep, but she didn't get caught. The teacher had probably come to expect it by now. Normally, he would be right next to or behind her, actively choosing to fail the class; once he found himself staring at Panty, there was no hope for his grades. But today he had chosen the right, the front, as far away as he could be. And thankfully right near the door for an easy escape.

Stocking, who was a few seats down from Panty, looked up from her notes. Watched him go.

In the boy's bathroom, he blew his nose as he stared into the mirror. Pale skin, lilac imprints beneath his eyes, hair a mess... He cared more about his appearance nowadays, since he had invested so much money into new clothes and hair. using his fingers, he tried to straighten out his orange, curly menace, but nothing seemed to help. Sighing, he bent down to the sink and washed his face a little to clear his head. Just a few more hours, and one more day in the bag.

He jumped, body flashing hot then cool, when he looked back up into the mirror and saw Stocking standing behind him. Brief spun around, hand over his chest, breath catching and continuing to whoosh back and forth in his lungs from the scare. For once, he hadn't made one of his classic "uwaaaaa's." When she only stood there, regarding him, it gave his heart a chance to slow. After all this time, he realized he was getting pretty sick of the sisters sneaking up on him. They tended to scare him a lot, whether on purpose or not. And after his intense rejection at the church, he didn't have much patience for either of them, to be honest.

"What?"

His tone surprised her, and Stocking blinked at his face, which wasn't frozen in an expression of terror or innocent confusion. Instead, he looked annoyed. That was rare for him. She could only assume the hormones were finally coming hard for him. The voice, the mood, the need to have Panty as a partner for real... It was the only explanation.

Wordlessly, she reached a hand up for his forehead to check his temperature, but recoiled in surprise when he blocked her, wrist to wrist, and side-stepped out of her reach. His discouragement was gentle, but also powerful. He never stood up to them before-...

"Don't touch me," he mumbled. It was a command. He never spoke in commands. "You guys can't just do whatever you want with me anymore." They weren't really his friends, were they? Every outing they had together, he had forced himself along, and gotten tangled up in their plans. They didn't even think his life was of value. The only time he had been worth anything was for Hell's Gate, and when he actually stopped to think, he realized something that made his heart ache.

Panty made love to him to get her powers back. To break her virginity in pieces. Then she never spared a glance since. She didn't like him at all. He was just... serving a purpose. And that hurt him. So he was cold to them now-Panty more than Stocking. The purple haired angel had been right about everything, and it was humbling to accept it. That's probably the only reason he couldn't stand to be around her at the moment.

When she still didn't speak, and just stared at him with eyes squinted and head cocked, he cleared his throat and prompted her, "Did you need something?"

Stocking felt awkward. There was this weird urge to linger around him, and have him speak roughly to her again, but her better judgment reminded her that this was a troublesome human. Now that he was ignoring Panty, it was best to just leave him alone. Perhaps he would fade from their lives, and soon, it would be like he had never been there at all. Brief stood patiently as she ruminated on her thoughts, blinking tiredly. He was not longer keen on them as friends, but Brief wasn't a jerk. He wasn't rude.

"I was just..." Stocking began, averting her eyes. "Checking on you."

Brief raised his eyebrows, which were so perfect and orange and straight. They grazed a few stray bangs that weren't pushed back. He had been running his hands through his hair all day, probably from the stress.

"You're sick," she informed him.

That much he knew. Breathing in through his mouth, he nodded a few times. It wasn't really that bad, though. Just a cold. The only reason it was bad was because of the timing: finals and heartbreak.

"It's fine," he said, voice deep and low from his cold.

Now he felt awkward too. He and Stocking hardly had lengthy conversations alone, without Panty; here they were, twice in a week. It was just strange. A new experience, maybe. After another uncomfortable silence, he started to take steps for the door.

"Well, w-we should get back to class." He sounded more like himself with the stutter, but the voice was still too deep. Stocking wondered where the old Brief went, and if he was gone forever. "And th-this is the men's room, so... d-don't get caught."

And like that, he was gone. Stocking watched him go, again, hanging by the mirrors and then staring at herself. The light blush on her cheeks. No... no! She scrubbed at her face, making a soft, mewling noise. She couldn't let herself do this again. She had way too much to do to let herself fall into some bizarre infatuation. Especially not with a human. Especially not with Brief.

Coming back into the classroom, she noted that Brief was back at his desk, half-heartedly attempting to take down notes. His pen scratched at his paper, but his eyelids drooped and hand slackened occasionally. Panty leaned over towards Stocking's desk, voice petulant.

"Where'd you sneak off to?"

Stocking just fixed her with a slight smile. "Nowhere special.."

Several hours later, after school and before daily angel duties, Stocking was utterly disgusted to find herself standing at the gate of the Rock Estate, holding a small sealed bowl of soup. How exactly she ended up there, she didn't know.