FicWad

“You fuckin’ ass.”

All I could say, really. He had me, hook, line, sinker. I’d have done it anyway, but no, he had to find something on me. That fucking ass.

I really ought to start at the beginning.

Hiruma Youichi, local demon, was in my class ever since Junior High. I never was of any use, so, naturally, he ignored me. I didn’t mind, really. I was never scared of him like Tyra, my best (only) friend. She had been useful to him once or twice; not right for weeks, I tell you. I, incidentally, lived next door to him. He never noticed me, or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge me. I was one of those little people, the ones who got stepped on.

I was quiet, but by no means introverted. Ty can vouch, she was my outlet. I draw her all the time. She’s the perfect subject, if she’ll stay still. ADHD, the doctors say, but I think she’s better that way. She’s so full of life, without her meds anyway. I, being an artist, only even noticed Hiruma because he was another perfect subject. His ears were to die for, his hands were absolutely perfect, and his overall appearance was practically that of the supernatural, my favorite thing to draw. I only ever draw bits and pieces, though. If I ever drew a picture of him as a whole, he would, inevitably, get his hands on it.

I wasn’t stupid, near the top of my class, actually, but I went to Deimon with Ty. She attracted the wrong sorts of people, so there was no way in hell I’d let her go to the gangster school she wanted to go to. (I dunno what it was called, but I really don’t care.) I told her about Deimon, and she made the same connection I did. Demon High. We decided on a school because it had an amusing name; you can see how good our priorities were.

The story starts about here.

“The teachers here all have sticks up their asses, just like Junior High.” Ty muttered as she leaned against the wall, lighting a cigarette. I never smoked, just munched on tootsie rolls in a way that gave people the impression I did. Ty thought it was funny. I replied smoothly trying to calm her down:

“They’re all just uptight ‘cause Hiruma’s here as well.” I had one class with the guy. She had all of them, except Gym, which she had with me. “You know what teaching him must be like.”

“Yeah,” She grinned, taking a drag from her (what I lovingly dubbed) ciggy. “Hell.” We laughed; I crouched near the ground frog style; she leaned casually against the wall. It was lunch period, but we didn’t really eat. (Unless you counted my occasional tootsie roll) Grinning, she remarked lackadaisically, “We both know why he came here.” I shot her a withering look.

“’Cause his friend Kurita wasn’t smart enough to go anywhere else?” I guessed, knowing that wasn’t what she was talking about. She crooked an eyebrow.

“You know that was just a convenient excuse to be near you.” Ty believed that Hiruma had a huge crush on me, which I thought was a laughable concept.

“Yeah, right,” I snorted, biting off a bit of tootsie roll. She grinned.

“Guess who has Gym right now?” She simply said, waving her ciggy towards the bleachers. I looked and saw Hiruma sitting in the bleachers, talking to Kurita and Musashi. God, I’d love to draw him, but I knew better. Shrugging, I switched to Indian style sitting, transferring my TR to my teeth. I pulled out my sketchbook, flipping to a new page. Ty began to fidget. I glanced at her.

“Oh please. You were standing still as a statue before the sketchbook came out. ‘Sides, I’m not gonna draw you.” Her fidgeting lessened, thankfully, but she smirked.

“Breaking down?” She asked. As my best friend, she knew I really wanted to draw Hiruma. “’S about damn time.”

“Tch,” was all I said as I pulled a pencil from its place in my ponytail.