Amor Fictus
Written by Sakki-san
Anything you haven't heard of belongs to me.
Anything you HAVE heard of, doesn't. Weiss. Schwarz. High school. (I'd be ashamed of that last one.)
"Damnit!"
Five books tumbled from Ran's arms and crashed into the floor, followed by a folder stuffed to the brim with papers. In a near-silent explosion, everything spread across the off-white linoleum and scattered wildly.
The redhead sighed and stared as the last of his pencils clattered from his fingers. A small group of students had stopped to watch, and one or two were shuffling his papers into a pile. The rest merely walked around or through the mess, kicking papers and erasers down the hall.
He reached out and stuffed the papers he could reach into the folder. It was frayed and nearly split down the middle, yet somehow held up against the barrage of papers he shoved into it every day. Most of the papers were ages old. So why did he keep them?
Ah, the mysteries of life…
Ran stacked his books back into a pile, shoved his folder between them, and hefted the heavy stack into the air. He heard a chorus of snickers around him as he staggered for a moment; one icy glare sent the offenders scattering.
A groan escaped his mouth as he saw how much further away his arch nemesis was. Twenty, no, thirty feet? Just keep walking…maybe it'll be a little less difficult today.
Being that Ran's arch nemesis was his locker, he seriously doubted that.
The gray metal door greeted him with the usual innocent appearance of the same locker as any around it, but Ran knew it was merely a trick. He shifted the stack of books and papers into his left arm and grabbed hold of the combination spinner.
Left….left….30.
Right….20.
Left…12.
He grabbed the handle and jerked upwards, praying constantly that the locker would open for once.
The evil force merely laughed at him, the creaking of metal on metal.
Ran swore viciously, scaring the kids around him, and slammed a fist into his locker.
"Stupid, worthless hunk of metal…," he growled, reaching for the combination spinner again.
Left……..left……30.
Righhttt….riiiiight…..20.
Lefffffftttt….12.
Slowly, gently this time, Ran gripped the handle and lifted.
His locker complied with the sudden kindness and opened.
He sighed with relief, brushing a lock of deep red hair out of his face. So kindness does prevail in times of great need. He shoved all five of the books into his surprisingly clean locker; he'd cleaned it yesterday. Before yesterday, it had been a mass of year old papers, unused pencils, eraser shards, and a few broken calculators.
The only things he hadn't removed were a few pictures. One was that of a little blue haired girl and a little redheaded boy: memories of days long gone. Another was that of a happy family, and a third was a sloppily drawn picture on lined paper. It had the qualities of a young child's drawing. But Ran treasured it; he kept it taped to the side of his locker.
The five books made their way into his locker, along with the viciously stuffed folder. Shortly one of the five books, labeled 'Pre-Calculus', was removed, and with it came a notebook and a pencil. Softly he shut his locker and turned away.
As soon as he entered the classroom, he glared. He remembered why he hated this class; they had just been on vacation for two weeks, so his memory was slightly fuzzy. After all, who thought about pre-calc when they were on vacation?
Sitting behind the teacher's desk had to be his most hated – and every student in the school's most hated – teacher. With his constantly iron will and icy glare, no student dared challenge him in anything, no matter how 'off' it seemed. His work was difficult and he was never gone a day from school.
Ran sat down and glared at the papers which hid his teacher's face. Shortly after, the bell rang, and the papers snapped together before landing on the table.
"Good morning," said Ran's teacher without any emotion. "For those of you who are – "
The door opened suddenly, and two girls and a boy stumbled in. They cast nervous looks at the teacher, who merely glared in response, before running for their seats.
"…As I was saying, for those of you who are new here, my name is Mr. Crawford." He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. "For those of you who are not new, and are entering this class for the second quarter of school, I believe you will remember me."
Not fondly, Ran thought. Most of the students had this very same thought, but no one voiced it. While it would usually receive a chorus of giggles, in this class it certainly would not, and the student who said it would get hauled down to the office within seconds.
"I will take attendance now. Say 'here' when I call your name. Azuki, Hitomi."
"Here." Ran noticed this first name was one of the three students who had come in late.
"You will be staying after for being late." Ran grimaced. As usual, Crawford refused to be lenient even on the first day of a new quarter. The girl slumped in her seat.
As names were called, Ran's attention strayed. He began to sketch on his opened notebook with a freshly sharpened pencil. He would have missed his name altogether had it not been so familiar to him.
"Fujimiya, Ran."
"Here."
There was a tense silence as Ran and Crawford's eyes met. They had never been on good terms, and at the end of last quarter, Ran had done something that enraged Crawford. However, it wasn't something he could report the student for; therefore, they had simply parted on terrifying terms.
"…"
Crawford went on, his gaze back on the
paper. The tension lessened, and Ran shut his eyes. He was already getting a
headache, and the school day had hardly even started…
"Tsukiyono, Omi."
"Here!"
Ran's eyes opened slightly. Nobody was that perky about pre-calc. Ever. This voice sounded…happy. Excited. Even…god, was this kid looking forward to what was coming?
The far-too-cheerful offender was sitting in one corner of the classroom, a smile on his face. He had bright blue, nearly cerulean eyes, and wheat brown hair. It was sort of blonde in the sunny light that poured in through the windows. He had a red sweater on. Ran didn't know why he noticed that; he just did.
The boy's smile quickly crumbled under the dark look he received from the teacher.
One slender eyebrow lifted as Ran looked the boy over. Wasn't he too young to be in pre-calc? He certainly looked it. Eh, who cared? He himself looked like he belonged out of school already.
The attendance finished. Crawford set down the list and reached for the dreaded math book.
"Today we will start on chapter 4. Take out your books and turn to page 257."
Ran obediently reached for his book and opened it.
~~~
Eighty minutes later, Ran heard the bell signaling the end of class. Crawford, as usual, had just finished off the lesson and the students were all writing down their homework. Instantly the sound of shuffling papers and scraping chairs filled the room.
Ran didn't leap up and shovel all his papers in a folder. He took his time, finishing writing down his assignment before calmly closing his agenda and looking around. Everybody was filing out of the room. This included the three students Crawford had instructed to stay after.
Crawford had an irritated look on his face when Ran glanced at the man. A tiny smile crept onto the silent redhead's lips as he stood up and put all his work together in a pile. He began to leave, but in order to do so, he had to walk in front of Crawford's desk.
Calmly, casually, he stalked by his teacher's desk. He could feel the hazel glare piercing his head, but he paid no attention. He could feel it as his back was turned to his teacher.
"Ran."
Ran's footsteps stopped.
"…"
"Do you still consider your answer correct?"
"You know it was correct."
"Yes…and I hate being wrong."
"…"
Ran knew exactly what Crawford was referring to. And he didn't care.
"Hurry and get to lunch."
"I thought you wanted to talk."
"I merely wondered if you thought you were right."
"I said I was. And I am." Ran took one more step.
"Arrogance is a foolish trait, you know."
"I'm not being arrogant."
With that, Ran left the room, the feeling of his teacher's gaze lingering on his skin.