What I go to school for

Warnings/notes : Omi/Nagi, slight fluff, song-inspired fic

Disclaimer : I don't own Weiss Kreuz. The song 'What I go to school for' belongs to Busted ; it's a song about a boy in love with his teacher so I didn't make this into a songfic. Instead I put a quote at the beginning of this chapter altering the 'she' to 'he'. I have absolutely no knowledge of Japanese schools ; everything in here is made up.

written at 6th october 2003, by Misura

I drop my pencil on the floor

He bends down and shows me more

- 'What I go to school for', Busted



Walking to school, Nagi mentally went over the classes he'd have today and who he'd have them with. Computer-science to begin with. He scowled. His teacher was constantly pestering him about his methods, saying they weren't 'orderly' enough.

More likely he knew Nagi was able to hack any program he could come up with. His petty jealousy had lowered Nagi's marks in his class considerably though, prompting some teasing remarks from Schuldich about Nagi losing his edge.

He sighed. Maybe he *had* been slightly over-reacting when he had programmed his teacher's personal computer to show that screen-saver with pink bunnies.


Omi wondered why schoolbuses were always late when he was on time, and on time when he was late. Probably just to make his life an even bigger disaster than it already was, he reflected miserably, being squished between boys twice his size, yet three years his junior.

That too was totally unfair. Ken had told him eating celery would make him grow, after he had accidentally mixed it up in yesterday's dinner, but Omi hadn't believed him. And even if it was true, it wouldn't be worth it.

Shifting his position when he hardly felt his left leg anymore, Omi closed his eyes and hoped they'd be there soon. Perhaps he ought to consider walking to school tomorrow. Anything was better than this, even if he'd have to rise even earlier to still be in time.


After computer-science came Nagi's most hated class. In the previous he'd at least have a computer-keyboard at his fingers, which never failed to make him feel at least a little good. He didn't exactly care what other people thought of him, but he didn't like being eyed with pity either. In Physical Education, a lot of kids and even the teacher did just that.

People were so blind sometimes ; he had more power in his skinny body than any of them could imagine, yet when there were teams to be chosen, he was last to be picked and when they were trying something new or difficult the teacher always told him to take it easy.

The temptation to let go and bring the school down on them, just to prove he could, was very strong at times like that. He never gave in to it though. Not while there was still someone he cared about in the same building ...

He'd see that person at his last class, History. Only for that reason, he was already looking forward to the normally rather boring lesson.

Nagi reached school just in time to see the last students file out of the schoolbus. His mouth twisted ; he'd tried going to school like that only once. Finding himself intensely disliking the feel of so many bodies pressing to his own, he'd quickly opted for walking instead.


Omi sighed with relief as he stumbled out of the bus. He'd almost missed the dark-haired figure staring at him from the shadows of the trees. Blushing, he sent a smile in Nagi's direction, not daring to do anything more openly.

Nagi bended his head once, before disappearing inside. Suppressing a slight stab of disappointment, Omi opened his bag to check where he'd have his first class.

To his relief, he found he had all the right books with him, as well as the disk that ought to contain his assignments. All he'd have to do was find a spare moment to print them.

Checking his other classes he tried to recall which of them he shared with Nagi, if any. He hoped so ; over the last few weeks they'd hardly had any opportunity to exchange more than few words or a stolen glance.

No wonder his dreams had become filled with midnight eyes and soft pale skin ; in the real world he'd seen or felt disappointingly little of either. If this situation would last much longer, he was sure one of his teammembers would hear him call Nagi's name one night.

And then he'd be in deep trouble. They might even never let him see Nagi again, except on the missions, as a member of Schwarz. The enemy.

Omi shivered, trying to banish dark thoughts like these from his mind. He'd never allow that to happen, not ever. They *loved* eachother. Surely the others would understand ...


None of the others greeted him as Nagi entered the computer-lab. He didn't expect them to either. Being ignored was much to be preferred above attention of any kind, be it in pity or in envy at his superior computer skills.

Besides, they had nothing in common with him ; why would he be interested in their friendship or opinion of him? Only Omi mattered, because Omi was someone he could compete with, someone who, ironically, he could trust with all his secrets because Omi had his own secrets to keep too. Their secrets bound them as much as their interests.

Silently he set to work, picking the assignment for today off the central desk. He was unsurprised to see it was something he'd be able to do within a quarter of the time they'd been given to complete. If he typed with one finger and blindfolded, that was.

Nagi sighed. This was going to be a loooong morning.