Ek-squeeze me while I wreak havoc with your name, oh lovely one. :D oh, yeah, and apologies for just how OC Homura-kun is. I mean, come on, does it really matter? He's hot and he's yours.


She was listening to that cursed thing again. The iPod. That bane of all that is good in the world. She was tapping one foot, too; blue and pink stripes peeked out from beneath the hem of those faded jeans with every tap.

Of course, it didn't really matter – no, scratch that. It wouldn't really matter, if she were actually paying attention. Y'see, Homura really didn't like having people drifting off into their happy little realms of wondrous happenings and general insanity during his lesson.

Honestly. He ran a long hand through the lank locks that rested on his forehead – they were beginning to get damp in the horribly humid weather, and that wouldn't do at all – and glanced out over the class of thirty-odd.

"Miss Tan."

There was no response. A few of the kids sitting around her giggled. Inane idiots, tittering away like motherless little birds.

Homura cleared his throat – and his mind, incidentally – and tried again. "Miss Tan."

A strand of light brown hair – no, no, not honey, he would never stoop to describing it as honey, brown it was and brown it would stay, no matter how absolutely endearing that cute little face was and stop it right this second – fell over one half-lidded eye of the infuriatingly oblivious child, and he tapped his fingers impatiently on the desk. Gods above, if he hadn't liked history so much he'd never have volunteered to teach a bunch of stupid highschoolers for Hakkai. Never ever. The man owed him, owed him so much that should slavery ever be legalised again… suffice to say that chains wouldn't only be considered a form of bondage.

Finally, one of those girls – the stick-like one with the most bizarrely-done pigtails and the hideous freckles – kicked the daydreaming Yuu, with more than a hint of malice. Homura narrowed his eyes at that. Kicking his student, the gall of that impudent creature…

Then coherent thought fled from his mind as Yuu lifted her large brown eyes, and opened her mouth to speak, pulling those headphones from her ears as she did so…

"Sorry, sir, but I'm bored."


"Detention after school." He said tightly, fingers tightening into a stranglehold around the piece of ruler he'd just snapped. One of the youths in the class made a choking sound; apart from that one slip, all was silent.

His patience was not faring well today.


Kicking off her shoes, she sighed. "So why am I here again?" With a disgruntled expression she slowly peeled one sweat-soaked sock off and carefully replaced it with a rainbow-spotted one. Orange and white lightning bolts decorated the other foot in a matter of moments; not that he was watching, of course.

He barely took his eyes off his book, ignoring her as she placed her feet on the table. The fan squeaked irritatingly above them, emitting tiny puffs that did nothing to change the stagnant heat of the room. "Because you were disrespectful."

She rolled her eyes, pulling out her iPod from some concealed pocket or another and popping them into her ears. "Whatever, sir. You're just angry because I'm hot."

That got his attention. The book clattered to the floor along with a sizeable number of his collection of pens, something that annoyed him to no end. "What did you say?"

She grinned toothily. "I said, you're angry because it's hot."

"…Oh." Absurdly relieved, and maybe just a tiny bit deflated, he sat back in his chair, adjusting his glasses and picking up his book calmly.

"You're not going to yell at me?" Yuu sat forward suddenly, peering over at him. "I am on detention here, you know."

A dull throbbing had started in his temples; he rubbed it gingerly with one long finger. "You're talking too loudly," he informed her. "You shouldn't be listening to that again. That's the reason you're here in the first place."

That earned him a sickly sweet smile. "Oh? And here I thought you liked me."

He denied her the pleasure of an answer and commenced reading his book, until –

"Wanna listen?"

"Get off."

"What? No," she whined, arms wrapped snugly around his shoulders, leaning her head on his. "You're not supposed to make me get off. You're supposed to tell me how much you adore me and bemoan the fact that Uncle Hakkai somehow landed you in this mess where you have to pretend you don't know me. And you're supposed to love my music, too, because it's The Killers."

"One day, you will burn in hell for the rest of eternity–"

"That comment is obsolete," she retorted smartly. "You know eternity isn't supposed to have an end. If it had an end, then that would mean you would stop loving me, and we can't have that, can we?" She beamed brightly, squeezing a little tighter.

Homura sighed for the umpteenth time, knowing he couldn't very well rebuff that comment without a unleashing a storm. Instead, petted her softly, once, on her cheek, and went back to reading his book.

So, um, I have no excuse for the crappiness of this; in fact, I think I ought to write another one. Perhaps as a twoshot, so I can redeem myself with the second… Nor do I have an excuse as to why my first saiyuki!fic wasn't gojyoxsanzo, especially since I have numerous drafts of that one sitting patiently on my computer (sorry, Befanini). The only thing I can promise right now is that Brothers on a Hotel Bed, for those of you who know that project of mine, is very nearly finished and will be posted very soon. I promise you that.

For Sabaku-no-Ai on ffdotnet.
she's absolutely lovely XD