Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction / Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ School's Crazy ❯ Chapter 1: College?! ( Chapter 1 )

School's Crazy

 

Drof: I have only done this three times…Er…I've got three different fics by this title, but this is the one that's getting posted. Inspired by some Yu-Gi-Oh! fic I read called Kuroi Shiroi College. Does anyone know what that means?

 

BHS: You could always look it up yourself.

 

Drof: But I don't wanna.

 

BHS: *sighs.*

 

Drof: Oh! My second official AU. *technically the ND series is a bunch of AUs, but oh well.*

 

BHS: -_-0 No more…You should be updating things!!!

 

Drof: I am! I'm updating this!!

 

BHS: -_-0

 

Disclaimer: Drof owns nothing at all, because she's stupid and pathetic. And she can't even be more original than to come up with this stupidity.

 

Drof: SHUT UP!! I own the OCs! And even if this IS overused, I can still make it good! I'm a genius writer, remember?

 

BHS: Egocentric-much?

 

Drof: Shut it.

 

Warnings: Er….funniness, scariness, stuff. Yeah. Bakura's mouth, and a lot of cursing. Oh, and Ishtar.

***

Chapter 1: College?!

 

 

Bakura's POV

 

College. Probably the worst thing that ever happened to me. I didn't want to go, not all. But Ryou, may he burn in hell, has to go and mention to Kibano—may he burn as well—that I was just laying around the house doing nothing constructive at all. Which was, quite frankly, what I wanted to be doing. And then Kibano goes and decides that he should enroll me in college, so I can `get an education, get smart, and get the hell out of my house', as he put it.

 

It's not just his house! I live there too! Well, granted, he's the only one who's paying rent, but that's because I haven't got a job. I tried to get one, I really did, but no one would hire me. Bastards. Kibano points out my joblessness every time he can, which is pretty often. He's one of the bastards too. He's the freakin' Head Honcho of the bastards. He's the Supreme Lord High-King Bastard.

 

I hate him sometimes, I really do. Of course, he's my only hope of having a house. Surely he wouldn't turn his own brother out to live in the streets! Of course not. I'm his weakness. He wouldn't throw me out.

 

Or so I thought. Then, as I've said, May-He-Be-Damned Ryou had to go and mention school. And Kibano goes `What a great idea! I'll torture my poor, helpless, harmless little brother by sending him to college! What fun!' Not that he actually said that, but I know him well enough to see the smirk he was trying to hide when he told me I was officially a college student.

 

Now, I'm sure you're wondering how the hell I got into a college without taking an exam. I wanna know, too. Goddamn brother probably did something. I'm voting on he slept with the headmaster. Then again, Kibano has this whole `holier-than-thou' thing going on, so he probably wouldn't. Sex as a means of bribery lowers one's public-image.

 

When I presented my theory to him, he said that. Then I pointed out that he dressed like some sort of male whore, so having sex with random people would actually improve his public-image, at which point he hit me with a book and threatened to not feed me for a month. I'm gonna call Social Security one of these days. I really am. This is sibling abuse, is what it is.

 

So, I was enrolled in college without my consent and forcibly restrained and dragged there against my will, and here I am. As Kibano dragged me out of the car, I grabbed onto the roof and refused to let go until I could have a reading of my rights to see if this was, in fact, illegal. He told me to stop being stupid and get out of the car. I said no.

 

“Bakura!” he yelled. I could see that he was losing his temper. His face was all red and his hair was even messier than normal. It's weird, but when he's angry or stressed or something, his hair starts being all weird. It's like some sort of bio-chemical response to his emotions, or something. Sometime I'm going to get him to get it checked out by a doctor. He could have a tumor or something. Not that I'd give a damn if he did. But if he died, then I'd be out of a house, since I haven't got a job.

 

Well, that was before. Now I have a nice, cushy dorm-room, so I don't have to worry about Kibano calling me a bum anymore and yelling at me about the rent. Maybe this won't be so bad.

 

“I'm not getting out of this car until you prove to me beyond all doubt that this is damn well and fully legal!” I yelled back. He leaned forward and glared at me, snarling in a way that bared quite a bit of fang. Yes, my brother has fangs. He's a vampire, you see.

 

“You are getting out of this car right goddamned now,” he growled, “or so help me, I will rip your damn throat out. Understand? Now, out!” I just sat there, glaring at him. He reached for me, and I shut the door on his fingers.

 

His howl of pain and fury was the most satisfying sound I have ever heard. I will probably have erotic dreams about it later.

 

Kibano somehow managed to yank his hand out of the door, and promptly yanked the door open—well, nearly off, actually. He leaned over, grabbed me around the waist, dragged me out of the car, and hauled me bodily into the building. I, of course, screamed and yelled and cursed and thrashed about in his arms like a fish out of water, all the while yelling for my rights and a lawyer.

 

He merely ignored me, and continued striding purposefully through the halls, as if it was perfectly normal to be hauling one's screaming brother through the halls of a college. Well, at least I caused him some minor humiliation. I could tell he wasn't happy, by the shade of his face, the way his lips kept curling back from his teeth, and the hair which was now flying around his face every which-way. It'd take hours of brushing to fix that mess.

 

I was carried to an office, and Kibano kicked the door in, since he was busy restraining me with his arms. He stalked in, threw me into a chair, sat on me, and demanded to see the headmaster.

 

“Um…do you have an appointment, sir?” the lady at the desk asked. I felt sorry for her. Kibano's face had locked into a snarl, and his fangs were gleaming. It must have been pretty scary for the poor secretary. Y'know, she was kinda pretty. One of those little, black-haired, black-eyed, pale Asian types. Real cute. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

 

“Tell him it's Kibano,” my brother said in a tone that suggested that he'd rip her throat out and drink her blood if she didn't get the headmaster. I was beginning to think that he might, too. He looked pretty angry. Then again, I'd caused him to ruin his precious car. That car was his baby, which shows just how weird he is, seeing as it's a piece of shit.

 

“Er…alright.” The lady got up and walked through another door, the whole time eyeing my brother nervously, like she thought he'd go for her throat if she turned her back on him. He looked like he was going to, too. I figured that he'd go for my throat when she left the room.

 

“Bakura,” he said quietly, when she left. I started to get really nervous.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I'm going to kill you.”

 

“That wouldn't be fair!! I'm at a disadvantage!” I protested, trying to stall for time. Kibano tells me probably ten times a day that he's going to kill me, but this time he sounded like he meant it. To show how much of a disadvantage I was at, I tried to wiggle out from under him, which resulted in me receiving a glare that would have made a glacier shiver. Then he settled back and shifted a bit to get comfortable—on my stomach. I `oof'ed and glared at him.

 

“I don't care,” he responded. “I am going to kill you. I will cut off your head and mount it above my bed.”

 

“That's nasty,” I told him. “If you're gonna be all gross and incesty, at least don't do it in public. It makes me look bad.” He responded by suggesting that I go have sex with my mother. I asked what his obsession with incest was all about. He hit me and told me to shut up. This would have gone on, but right than a tall, frighteningly spiky-haired Egyptian man entered the room.

 

He glared at both of us with insane purple eyes, and wanted to know who the hell we thought we were, bursting in like that and scaring his secretary. He pointed out that the woman needed therapy now, and that she'd probably quit, and that he blamed us. Kibano sighed and told him to shut the hell up.

 

“This is the little bastard I told you about,” Kibano said, pointing to me. “You know, the one I enrolled in your school?”

 

“Your brother?” the man asked. Kibano sighed again.

 

“No,” he replied savagely, “my mother. Yes he's my brother, dipshit!”

 

“Hey, don't talk to me like that,” the man warned. Kibano sighed for a third time.

 

“Look, Ishtar,” he said in a much calmer voice, “this is my little brother, Tozo—“

 

“Bakura!” I interrupted. I hate my real name.

 

“Whatever.” Kibano snarled at me, and then forced himself to relax. Calmly, rationally, and completely fakely, he continued. “This is my little brother, Bakura. I enrolled him here a month ago, remember?”

 

“Oh yeah. Him.” This Ishtar, whoever he was, didn't seem to particularly care for the notion of me.

 

“Yeah, him. So, anyway…He needs a room, and a schedule, and all that.” Kibano sounded very calm. He also sounded like he was about to explode and kill someone violently.

 

“Well, we haven't got any free rooms, and most of them are already taken by current students who are on break. I've got a boys' dorm free…” Ishtar shuffled over to the secretary's desk and searched through a bunch of papers until he found the one he wanted.

 

“Ah, yes…Room 215,” he said. “And…” Here he stopped and went through the papers again, finally grabbing one and holding it up triumphantly, like it was a flag of victory or something. “And you're schedule…Here you go.” He handed the schedule to Kibano, who stood up, dragged me to my feet, and thrust it into my hands. He then grabbed my shoulders and marched me out of the office, thanking the man for his time.

 

“I am going to kill you if you make a scene,” Kibano told me.

 

I would like to say right now that I tried. I really did. I was perfectly quiet and well-behave for nearly five whole minutes. Then I couldn't hold it together anymore. The sudden realization that I was going to school again hit me like a ton of bricks, and I lost it.

 

“There's no way in hell you're making me stay!” I screamed. I began to run, when Kibano tackled me, picked me up while I was too stunned from the impact to react, and carried me down the hall. I continued my indignant screaming.

***

 

Kibano had long ago given up trying to tell me to quiet down. It wasn't like there was even anyone there, anyway. A few students poked their heads out of their rooms, but Kibano snarled at them, and the doors quickly closed. This was usually followed by the click of locks, and the thud of furniture being rammed up against the door.

 

Finally, we got to room 215. Kibano kicked the door until it was open, barged in past the boy who opened it, and dropped me on the bed. He glared at me, told me to behave, and left quickly, shutting the door behind him.

 

You could have heard him cheering in Africa, I swear.

 

“Yeah, well, I hope it's terminal!” I screamed after him, talking about my cancer theory (refer to the car scene).

 

“Who exactly are you?” a very polite, very calm, and very British voice asked.

 

“I'm Bakur—“ I stopped and stared at my roommate, as I saw him for the first time. Oh Ra… “Dear gods…” I moaned. It had to be someone like that! It just had to be!

 

Why me?

 

As I stared at my roommate, I began noticing things about him. Like, for instance, how incredibly pretty and girly-looking he was. The guy was maybe four-ten, really tiny and thin, with blue hair! Blue! I ask you! Why blue, of all colors? It wasn't even a sky-blue or a dark blue. It was more of any icy, hard, kinda brittle-looking blue. There wasn't a name for the damn shade.

 

He was wearing a blue button-up tee-shirt (dear gods, why me?), a pair of fairly tight-fighting bellbottoms (and, I am serious, he had no thighs. There was no way someone could actually be that thin!), and no shoes. His eyes were blue too, although they were more teal than real blue.

 

Did I mention that he was absolutely beautiful? I mean, seriously, it was like lookin' at a freakin' girl! I actually thought he was a girl, for a second, but his shirt was mostly unbuttoned, so I had a clear view of his woefully breastless chest. No hot chicks sharing my room, no. I get stuck with a pretty-boy.

 

“Bakur? That's an odd name.” He seemed rather amused. Those teal eyes were staring at me with that sort of `I know you screwed up, but I'm not going to openly mock you because I pity you, you poor sad bastard' look that I would come to hate. It was worse than Kibano's `holier-than-thou' attitude about his public-image.

 

“My name's Bakura,” I snapped. His bland, slightly amused expression didn't change at all in the face of my coldness.

 

“Oh. Well, hi. I'm Nikio.” He hold out a small hand for me to shake. I just stared at it like it was a fish or something, noticing how long and thin his fingers were, and his perfectly manicured nails. And—dear gods—his nails were painted. It was a sort of grey-blue color, nothing flashy, so I suppose I should probably be grateful for that.

 

“Er…” I shook his hand, all the while getting this nervous feeling that he was gonna, like, jump on me or something. “Hi…er…Nikki-oh?”

 

“Nikyo,” he pronounced, with an infuriating smile. I seriously wanted to knock his teeth out right then. I restrained myself, however. It wouldn't be right to hit him. He didn't look like he could protect himself from a creampuff, and beating on him would be like hitting a kid. I don't know about everyone else, but I myself don't get any sort of rush out of beating on people who can't defend themselves. Seriously, it's just mean.

 

“Right. Nico. Thanks.” His smile stayed there, and I knew I'd screwed it up again.

 

“Nikyo.”

 

“Right. Whatever. Sooo…Why's nobody here?” I drawled, sprawling across the bed Kibano had thrown me down on.

 

“Well, it's three days before school starts,” Nikio told me. “So everyone's on break.”

 

“And why aren't you?”

 

“I'd rather be here than home.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Why do you care?” His eyes got all hard and cold. I swear, it was like he thought I was some sort of assassin out to get him.

 

“Geez, relax, man. I just wanna know. I'm your roommate, so I think I have a right to know about you.” I waved a hand at him as I told him to relax, and earned myself a slightly frosty look. Not a glare, just a `look, don't mess with me' look. Like that would happen. I decided to live to mess with this guy. He deserved it. Somehow.

 

“Well, I guess you'll have to find it out yourself. I'm not telling you.” He went to rummage in the closet for something. He went down on his knees, with his front half in the closet, giving me an excellent (and unwanted) view of his ass. It was, I have to admit, a nice ass.

 

Whoa. Did I just say that? Nevermind that! Absolutely nothing about his ass or any other part of his body interested me in the least! I am not gay. I repeat: Not. Gay.

 

“Ergg…” he muttered. “Where is it? Damn…” He crawled completely into the closet in his search for…er…it, whatever `it' was. I entertained first the notion of shutting the door on him, and then the notion of making a `closet' joke (Hey, come out of the closet already), but decided that I didn't want to waste the energy to do either. I discovered that I was really tired from my struggles with Kibano.

 

So, I decided that I'd earned myself a nap, and promptly dozed off.

***

Drof: Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm evil, but I like this. It'll be updated, I hope. Er…Yeah. Read and review and all that.

 

BHS: If this doesn't get at least five reviews, I'm hurting you for wasting time when you should have been writing Pure Insanity.

 

Drof: Relax. It'll get reviews. Say, did I have Bakura in character? The cursing is a problem, because I am strictly not allowed to write the `F'-word. I'll just do this: `f^ck', okay? Yeah…It'll look stupid, but it's better than nothing, I suppose.

 

BHS: Whatever.

 

Drof: Stop being all mean and pissy.

 

BHS: Whatever.

 

Drof: *sighs.* Er….yeah. The next chappie's from Nikio's POV, just so you know.

 

BHS: No one cares.

 

Drof: I'm pretending they do!

 

BHS: But they don't. You're being pathetic.

 

Drof: Shut up!

 

BHS: I thought you wanted me to talk?

 

Drof: I never said to verbally abuse me.

 

BHS: It's talking, isn't it?

 

Drof: I'm not sure it counts.

 

BHS: ….

 

Drof: Er…anyway…Read and review or else…