disclaimer: disclaimed.
dedication: to Chloe, because she is a glutton for punishment. Also Christmas. But that's sort of less important in the long run.
notes: I think I'm funny.

title: we're lucky no one called the cops
summary: The gang-plus-Yukio-plus-Shura play Seven Minutes In Heaven. This is a Very Bad Life Choice. — Renzou/Izumo.






"You guys are seriously stupid," Izumo said to the group of people clustered in a circle in the center of the classroom, sunset pouring in through the windows, liquid gold and glimmering, edged in crimson and blue. "Not that I'm, like, worried or anything. But—what do you think you're doing?"

The seven of them—Yukio-sensei and Shura-sensei included—turned to stare at her.

It was a clusterfuck of ridiculousness.

Paku licked delicately at an ice cream cone in the background.

"Take ya turn, Kamiki," Shura ordered, and pointed at the bottle sitting innocuously in the loose ring they made.

Izumo glared. "No. It's stupid."

"Take ya turn," Shura replied, sitting back. "Or I'm gonna spin it for ya, an' believe me, you won' like the outcome."

This threat was accompanied by the knowledge that Shura never did anything by halves, and Izumo knew as well as the rest of them that she would follow through on whatever it was that she was threatening.

Shura was scary, like that.

Izumo huffed, tossed her hair out of her face, and knelt down to spin the bottle.

It spun and spun, and Izumo prayed please don't let it be that idiot

But since fate, God, and the female deity in the sky with the writing power hated her (or at least enjoyed her angst-riddled expression), the bottle spun once, twice, and slowed to point at Shima's ugly (not really. She actually thought it was quite fetching, but—but only sometimes, okay? It wasn't like she liked him or anything) grinning mug.

Izumo moaned. "That's—that's not fair! He's going to molest me!"

Shura grinned horribly. "Get gone. I don' wanna see you two for ten minutes."

Shima smiled blissfully. "Oh, Izumo-chan!"

Everyone else winced at the smack of flesh-against-flesh.

"You—I can't even—you!" Izumo snarled, and dragged him from the room and slammed the door behind her. There was muted laughter from inside and Shima sparkled. God damn it.

She huffed again and coloured, eyes gone narrow and mistrustful.

"No touching," she said.

"No touching," he promised with his hands up.

She eyed him suspiciously for another moment, drenched in the dying sunlight, his ridiculous pink hair looking… ridiculous and… ridiculous. Izumo blushed furiously when he grinned at her.

"You sure you don't wanna try?"

"What?! I—are you—no!"

Shima took a step towards her, still grinning and Izumo started to panic. Because that look—that look was dangerous and he was going to do something really, really stupid and she was going to have to hit him to stop herself from doing something really stupid and she was totally over thinking this but—

He grabbed her wrist, pulled her forward and kissed her just once.

Probably just to prove he could.

"Not so bad, huh?" he said, happy.

And it wasn't. It wasn't so bad at all.

Izumo was about to let him kiss her again.

And then she realized exactly what was happening.


From inside, all anyone heard was the crash.