AU, Yuri. Fllay Allster was shallow, superficial, and Self Serving. Not only did she have everything a girl in her position could ever want, she took it all for granted… that is until she lost it...
Blue eyes locked onto the blonde hair of their teacher, elbows resting upon the paleness of the desk, palms flush, fingers spread along the soft white of paper. The pages of her open notebook.
His short, thick, blonde hair seemingly captivated her glazed eyes. The girl’s lips pulled upward in a grin.
She felt someone lean over and whisper something into her ear, which caused her grin to widen. She let out a snicker, unable to contain it. She giggled helplessly, inexorably, like the schoolgirl that she was.
That was when he turned around.
“I’m glad you find my class so amusing,” he said. That was their teacher, the one they called La Flaga, a man who could be strict yet fun at the same time. Even now, as it was obvious that the student in question had not been paying even the slightest bit of attention, he managed to keep a gentle grin upon his lips. “I’m glad you enjoy math class so much. It really is a shame when students grow to dislike this elementary class. I can only assume, Miss Allster, that your incessant giggling means that you of course know the answer.”
“Uh… a little help Miriallia,” she asked the auburn haired girl beside her.
“Sorry Fllay,” she giggled “you’re on your own. I guess you should have been paying attention.”
“Gee, some friend you are,” the girl known as Fllay responded.
“Hmn? Do you have an answer for me?”
“I’m… working on one,” she answered sheepishly.
Somewhere in the back of the class, a quiet voice uttered an answer. It was not a strained voice, it did not beg to be unearthed, nor did it ask to remain hidden. It was merely one of those helpful whispers emanating from somewhere within the room. It was a voice that under other circumstances would have gone unnoticed by the girl, but this time, like so many others before it, she allowed it to enter through the side of her head. She relied on it, believed in it, depended on it.
“’X’ equals thirty six,” she answered, looking up to see her teacher’s unimpressed gaze.
“Yes, go on?”
“Ah, what? Isn’t that the answer?” La Flaga grinned.
“Why yes it is, but since you were so confident, perhaps you could solve the second part of the problem.”
“Is there a second part?”
“What does ‘y’ equal?”
“Two? How could it possibly be two?”
“No, it’s not.”
“Thirty six?” she asked hopefully.
“Come on, Fllay. You’re not even trying.” The girl held her breath and strained her ears, hoping for that harsh but heavenly voice to save her, to pull her from the brink of failure. As the room about her began its fade into obscurity and the air seemed to clog her ears while simultaneously filing out of the room, creating a dark vacuum with her in the center. It seemed like hours had passed before her guardian angel returned.
Fllay smirked before she once again spoke.
“Well,” Mister La Flaga replied, seemingly much happier. “I’m glad at least someone has been paying attention.” His eyes shot toward the back of the class, locking onto those of a student, a pair of eyes that quickly broke contact, a pair of eyes that quickly looked away. “Hm, well then… Lacus, if you would answer me the next one?”
Fllay let out a sigh of relief now that the spotlight was no longer hovering over her head. She didn’t care who was answering questions, so long as it wasn’t her. It didn’t matter who it was, so long as it kept the teacher’s attention away from her.
“Gee, thanks for all your help, Miriallia,” she hissed contemptuously at her best friend.
“What can I say, it’s fun to watch you squirm,” the auburn haired girl replied with a giggle.
“Misses Haw and Allster,” La Flaga said, his calm yet stern voice cutting through their chatter like the knife of an ice-fisherman through frozen surface water, “just because my eyes are not on you, that does not mean that my ears no longer work. Please cease your talking.”
“Sorry,” Miriallia apologized on the behalf of them both.
Eyes returned to paper and a slender finger reached up to brush a stray strand of bright red hair back into place behind her ear. All thoughts of that voice were gone. All thoughts of the angel who had saved her today, like so many other times, were stripped from her mind, as they always were.
Fllay didn’t concern herself with who it might have been, or even if it were a single person. She no doubt had countless numbers of admirers. Surely none of them would want her to appear stupid in front of the entire class. Nobody ever wanted the unattainable object of their affections to appear less than desirable. There was no doubt that they would continue to help her.
As always, she would forget the voice until the next time it made an appearance, until the next time she required it.
The class progressed as classes often did, without event. Nothing memorable would occur in the classroom. Questions would be posed, answers fired back, notes taken. Eyes would glaze, smiles would return. Notes would be exchanged and gossip would prosper.
The girl with the red hair sat with her friends, smile gleefully cascading across her features, her mind occupied with all but the subject at hand. The class was slowly but steadily reaching its end. Their lunch period was crawling steadily closer, like a wounded soldier determinedly crawling for cover or heading to a trench or bunker.
This math class was inevitably drawing to an end. All the students knew it, and the faculty sensed it as well. The students were growing restless.
Fllay was no exception. She allowed her face to rest in her hands as her closed eyes cooled against her palms. The hands on the clock always seemed to slow towards the end of a class.
After what seemed like hours, the foghorn-like school bell finally rang, signifying the end of class and the start of their lunch period.
The students all proceeded to scrape their chair legs against the concrete floor of the classroom as they hurried to get up and be on their way out the door.
Hands moved in a rapid flurry as belongings were thrown into backpacks which were then swiftly and roughly zipped or buckled before being flung over their owner’s respective shoulders.
La Flaga watched as his students all filed out of his class, away from him, without a single word or even nod of his approval.
“I want pages two-fifteen and two-sixteen completed for homework,” he called out to them as they passed him by. He watched as Fllay walked by him, smile in place, every bit as much a necessity as the girl’s entourage that followed her everywhere, as though they were all joined at the hip. La Flaga wouldn’t have been surprised to find that they all shared the same classes and visited the bathroom together. He had to fight his facial muscles to keep the perverted smirk from his face at that thought.
Then, as his blue eyes drifted off the red-haired beauty, they noticed a second girl emerging from the back of the class. This girl, as he had noticed on several occasions, also radiated looks to spare, her runoff enough to make even the mother of Murrue Ramius – the woman who loved him without even knowing it – look young and beautiful again, although this girl looked good in more of a cute kind of way. She was one of those girls whose appeal was in the illusion of their innocence.
“Lacus, may I have a word with you,” he asked.
The girl didn’t oblige him with a verbal response. She merely approached him and stood, waiting.
La Flaga’s eyes addressed her. They took in her appearance, her pale, milk-white skin; her long, lean legs that simply refused to be hidden under the short skirt of her uniform, even by the white, knee-high socks she wore. He looked at her long slender fingers, her pink lips, her blue eyes, her long pink hair. She was adorable, like a collectable china doll. La Flaga found himself needing to concentrate just to keep his mind occupied with his work.
While freight trains ran loops around the inside of his head, the girl before him stood patiently, her serene gaze clouded and frosted as though she were looking right through him, as though he were not really there.
“Now Lacus,” La Flaga spoke sternly after clearing his throat. “I need to talk with you.” Once more, Lacus did not answer, not verbally at least. Her eyes locked momentarily with his and she gave a solemn nod of her head. “You are becoming a bit of a problem child, did you know that?”
“What do you mean ‘problem child?’”
“I mean, you are a disruption to your own learning, and the learning of others.”
“I’m not hurting anybody,” Lacus calmly defended.
“Maybe not intentionally, but cheating is an offence, regardless of which side of the fence one may be positioned on. You surely know this, no?”
“I’m not hurting anybody,” Lacus repeated.
L a Flaga sighed. “I can only help you if you let me, Lacus.”
“I don’t need help.”
“Are you sure about that? You’ve had three detentions this week already. You’re grades are appalling and class participation from you seems to be kept to a bare minimum. I’ve seen your permanent record. You weren’t always like this. What happened to you?”
“If there’s anything else you need, you can always come to me, you know that, right?”
“I’m doing nothing wrong in class. When asked a question, I always answer it.”
“Indeed, even when it is not you who are asked.” Lacus widened her eyes. “I know it is you, Lacus.”
“I was just helping her out.”
“You are hurting her more than helping her, Lacus.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes. She’s come to rely on handouts. If you had not called out the answers for her, she would not have been able to give them. What do you think will happen during this year’s final exam? Will you be whispering answers then, or passing notes? How do you intend to give her the answers then?”
“I just wanted to help her. You call on her far too much.”
“Only because she desperately needs to improve.”
“Then what should I do, take the role of teacher and watch her fall? Watch her crash and burn against the blazing safety net of this class?”
“You don’t want her to fail?”
“May I ask why?”
“I… no reason.”
“I’ve seen you watching her.” Lacus’ eyes widened once more. “You gaze at her. You stare at her intently, but you never walk up and just talk to her. What are you afraid of?”
“Why Would I talk to her,” Lacus asked. “Why would she want to talk with me? I’m not part of her group.”
“You know, it’s not exactly like her small circle is a tight-knit band. I’m sure you could easily work your way in and become friends with them all. I could help you, if you wanted.”
“No,” Lacus hurriedly stated.
“Why not, you said you wished to help her, did you not? Fllay’s grades are in serious need of improvement. Perhaps this can be your opportunity.”
“And how am I supposed to do that? I don’t believe in profiteering on the misfortune of others. Besides that, I’ve already tried giving her the answers, but you seem to have a problem with that. ”
“You don’t want her to fail, right? Then by all means help her. Teach her, tutor her; but do it outside of the classroom, in your own time, after school for example.”
“You think… I could be a tutor?”
“Hey, it’s a messy job, but someone’s gotta do it. Maybe I can help you. I’ll have a talk with her father. I’m sure he won’t want his precious little girl to fail. Fllay Allster is in need of private help, in more than just math if you know what I mean,” the teacher joked.
Lacus, however, was not about to find that amusing. “Is that all you wanted,” she curtly asked.
“Yes, you may go.” Lacus nodded politely and left the room. “Lacus,” La Flaga called out, “remember, if you ever want to talk to someone, I’m always right here.”
“I don’t think I’ll be taking that offer,” the girl replied. She had heard about the rumors of Mu La Flaga, the teacher who supposedly drove a love-sick student of his from the verge of first sanity, and then life. Lacus didn’t need the ears of someone like that. Wasn’t there some kind of law against teachers dating their students?
Lacus put it out of her mind and checked her backpack was secure around her shoulders before making her way out of the classroom. She headed outside, towards the gym. She had seen Fllay in that direction before. The back of the gym seemed to be a favorite hangout for her and the one Lacus assumed to be her boyfriend, Kira Yamato – not that the pinkette made a habit of spying on the activities the two got up to.
She had a lot to think about. Could she really be a tutor, a teacher? Would she really be able to help anyone?
She thought about it when something caught her eye. There she was, Fllay.
What can I say to her? How should I explain myself? I… I don’t want to sound conceited, but…”
Suddenly, Lacus saw something that caused her to lose her train of thought, something she never thought she’d see.
A pair of irises, the palest of blue, were just tinted even lighter as Lacus’ eyes significantly widened, letting in more light. Lacus stood awe-struck, not believing what she was now seeing. Not believing it was possible. She couldn’t even comprehend it. That person, and that person, but not with that person…
Lacus’ mind wasn’t working strait. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t feel.
Even as her jaw went slack –
Even as her eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets and run away to be saved the fate of witnessing this –
Even as a blush began to warm her cheeks –
She couldn’t look away. She… she couldn’t… look… away.
A slave she was… to the sight.