Disclaimer: "Angel Densetsu" is owned by Yagi Norihiro. I am not profiting from this fanfiction.

Fun At School

Oh, how Ryoko hated having to stay late. In this case it was because she hadn't been able to write quite fast enough. She was only five minutes after at the moment, but given the amount of notes she still had to take down, she was pretty sure she'd be here a while longer.

She had already asked Ikuko to inform everyone else not to wait up for her, to go on and leave. In her heart, she felt incredibly jealous right then -- knowing that Ikuno, friend or not, was currently around Kitano-kun. She shouldn't be envious in the least; she knew Kitano-kun well enough to know he'd never betray her. But still, she also knew how Ikuno was after him, if only in words thus far.

Since the day she'd kissed him in the park, nearly two months prior, Kuroda hadn't left the two of them alone together, despite efforts from Takehisa and Ikuno to make him skedaddle. At first she didn't mind so much, since Kitano-kun and her were smart enough to meet up earlier in the morning to avoid Kuroda. . .but then he figured out their early morning meetings and had made things much more difficult.

The bigger boy must be doing backflips right now, she realized. In his mind, any time she and Kitano spent apart was time well spent. If he wasn't so damned annoying, she might have thought his quirks endearing.

Her mind sunk further into a kind of despair the longer she thought about it, her hand absently copying the kanji on the chalkboard into her notebook. Bah, she should've left and simply asked for notes later. In her mind she didn't see any great reason to put forth a huge effort to graduate, anyway. She was fully planning on teaching Koiso-style Kobujutsu to classes in the future as it was; you didn't need a college degree for that.

The door to her classroom slid open, making her jump. She wasn't expecting anyone to come back here, yet she knew without looking that it was Kitano-kun there.

She had a smile for him when she looked, meeting his gaze. No words described the relief she felt when she saw he was alone, too. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

He blinked. Apparently, he hadn't thought this through. "Ikuko-chan told me you were staying late."

She lifted a brow at his choice of words. "Then Ikuko didn't tell anyone else?"

"She told the others that you headed home early," he explained, stepping into the room to glance about. But of course; he'd never been in here before.

Thank you, Ikuko, she thought. The other girl was definitely all for Ryoko and Kitano's love life, and had helped a great deal by cutting everyone else out of it. "I'm surprised you let her lie," she commented now.

He looked surprised, then blushed slightly. "Well, I wanted us to have time alone together again. It's been a while."

Like he had to tell her that. Letting her pencil roll into the center of her notebook, she stood up to face him, though he was still by the doorway. "Yeah, me too, Kitano-kun." It wasn't until after she said this that she started to blush.

Damn, but his stare was intense. Even though she knew he didn't do it on purpose, his eyes could still pierce her. Just now he seemed unable to think of anything else to do, so he looked away at the chalkboard.

It seemed to hold his interest. ". . .History of the second World War and Japan's involvement in it?" He glanced back at her. "You're only just learning about that?"

"It's a review," she clarified. "I didn't take notes the first time we were taught about it, so I have to now."

"Is that why you're late?"

She blinked. It seemed Ikuko left out a lot of details, she thought. "Y-yeah. I'm kind of a slow writer anyway."

As though looking for proof, he came closer to look at her notebook, then up at the board again. While the board was just about filled, less than half was in her book. "Hnh."

"What was that sound?" she asked, a little surprised. That was a new sound.

"Huh? Oh," he started, still classically easily confused. She liked that about him, frustrating though it may be. "I was just thinking that you're not copying it right."

She wasn't? Looking from the notebook to the board a few times yielded that she indeed was having trouble. She skipped an entire sentence, and it seemed like the rest of the characters were jumbled. She made a sound of disgust, leaning heavily on one arm. "Figures."

"Is that why you complain about having bad grades?" he asked suddenly.

Strange how insulting that sentence was, yet how innocent it sounded from someone so outwardly frightening. "Yeah. I lose focus easily when it comes to -- schoolwork," she tried. "Yeesh, give me a training regiment and it's no problem. Give me a book and I'm stuck at the start." She felt pathetic saying that to Kitano, who was just the opposite.

"Well here," he said, reaching out to grasp her pencil, "I can help."

Reflexively, she caught his wrist to stop the reach. "No, you don't have to," she tried.

"But Ryoko-chan," he tried again, "like this you'll never leave school."

"I can handle taking notes," she all bug ground out, her pride refusing to let her fall. Kitano was better than her at absolutely everything as it was, she couldn't let him start babying her.

When he tried a third time, stubbornly, she put herself in front of him, half sitting on the desk to block the notebook. Damn it, no, she thought, I can't let you do everything for me.

"Ryoko-chan," he all but whined, "I can. . ."

It was like hitting a brick wall at full speed. They both realized in one instant that it had gone from a calm conversation between two people to lovers, alone in a classroom, with her very nearly pressed up to him. The air around them seemed to thicken, growing heavy and intense. And neither of them had a clue what to do about it.

Following instincts, of course, she would want to give herself over to him, kiss him and let him touch her any way he liked. But this was Kitano Seiichiro, always slightly on the confused side, rarely fully understanding what was going on around him. She wouldn't put it past him to be oblivious to the entire situation, and even when it was certain he understood at least that much, she couldn't hope he'd have a thought of what to do.

On the other hand, this wouldn't be the first time she was wrong about him -- and it wasn't. Completely surprising her, she first felt his hand abandon the pencil to curve around her back. A light touch, she admitted, though it still felt immensely nice.

Then, the second thing: his left hand found her shoulder, and he effectively hugged her close while leaning in, bowing his head to kiss her.

Their second kiss, she realized with a flutter in her heart. She shut her eyes easily, her hands reaching up to wind around his neck. It wasn't until now, as the seconds ticked by, that she knew just how small and chaste the first kiss had been. Although she would undoubtedly remember that kiss in the park forever, she allowed herself to forget for the time being.

The pressure of his lips demanded it.

When his arms tightened a little more, she followed the lead, pressing herself closer to him. It was full-body contact now, a thought that used to make her uneasy but now felt like a delicious treasure. The next time he moved, tilting his head a bit, she responded instinctively by moving likewise to accept the move.

And she had enough brainpower left, when the touch of his mouth became that much sweeter, to marvel at his instincts. He must have a lot more internal workings that she ever thought, she realized now. Reflexes, goodwill, selflessness, and determination were now coupled with instinctual passion. She made sure to remember this for later, then gave herself over to the new swelling in her chest.

This felt too nice, simple and pure. Yet still the hum of pleasure traveling through her body only increased with each moment, jumping dramatically when she felt his lips part slightly, only to close more securely around her bottom lip. How did he knew how to do that, when she was so certain this was his second kiss as well?

She didn't want to analyze right now; she wanted to enjoy herself. Strengthening her resolve, she tried to mimic what he'd done to his own upper lip. But of course he knew what he was doing somehow; when she tried this, he did too, ending with a kind of kiss that sent electricity through her body. She shivered.

Then she moaned lightly, surprising herself. Since when did she moan? It was mind-boggling. She wasn't this kind of girl.

Her body must have disagreed. One of his hands began to stroke her back lightly, both comforting her and increasing a budding desire in her stomach. What new feelings he inspired in her, she thought to herself, trying not to be quite as surprised when she heard a second moan come from her own throat.


That one word jarred her to her core, and seemed to do the same to Kitano. They practically jumped back from each other, then he turned to look at whoever was in the doorway. It was a student Ryoko herself didn't recognize, a student who was also instantly terrified at Kitano's look and dashed away.

Crap. Now only more rumors would go around school. But this time, the rumors would be true: "Kitano-kun and Koiso Ryoko," they would say, "were making out in the classroom!" She could hear them already, biting back a groan. Why did this have to happen at school, of all places?

". . .Ryoko-chan?"

She glanced up, only realizing now that she'd looked down in the first place. Kitano-kun was blushing pretty darkly, and she thought she was, too. "Um. . ."

He rubbed his neck nervously. "I. . . I-I. . . it was an accident," he tried, glancing at various spots on the floor.

"It felt pretty purposeful to me," she replied. She covered her mouth with her hand. Remembering why she was still here in the first place, she looked wistfully at the notebook she was still partially sitting on top of. Giving up, she slapped it shut on the pencil and stuffed it back into her bag.


"There's no way I could focus on history now," she told him. Hell, I'll be thinking about this all night, probably dream about it, too.

"Um, would it help if I apologized?" he asked tentatively.

Of course not, her mind snapped. "I wouldn't want you to," she answered honestly. At his furious blush, she grasped how that sounded and blushed, herself. "Y-You should get out of here first, Kitano-kun," she suggested.

He looked surprised. "Why?"

"Because it would look conspicuous if we left together," she told him.

"Only if we're seen," he countered.

Holy cow, that was clever. He was starting to sound a little like a delinquent. She didn't dare say that to him, however, knowing it would probably terrify him. ". . .Good point," she conceded.

He looked down at the floor sharply, glanced this way and that, then finally retrieved his bookbag. That was another blow to the head -- she hadn't noticed he'd dropped the bag. But of course he had, she snarled at herself. He'd only had both hands on her; where would the bag come into that?

Luckily the walk home was less than eventful, although they had trouble looking at each other for more than a second. At the fork in the road, when they took their separate ways, he leaned over to kiss her cheek, leaving her dumbfounded. She stood there, touching her cheek, for several moments after they said their goodbyes.

She had to wonder to herself just what this day meant, in the long run. Regardless, she returned home with high spirits and a big smile. If nothing else, today was one giant success in the game of love.