It's Much Too Early To Wake Up...

[Sho's Sexy Pants ♥]

...Especially if you're a senior. The final stretch before graduation, and yet, most of the students in the class were extremely unenthusiastic. Hell, even the teacher didn't really care what was going on in the classroom as long as nothing illegal was going down (and even then he didn't seem to notice or care much). The aloof teacher had a reputation within the school-grounds as the only teacher that will sleep during his own classes and the only one who will willingly pull out his dirty romance novels in the middle of a lesson without any attempt to hide the cover or the content in said books. His novel, in many cases, often held his attention better than his own lessons (not that he seemed to care for teaching the lessons, anyhow). And although this may scare most of the freshman or cause an uprising with the sophomores and juniors, the laid-back 12th graders were just as relaxed and uncaring as their "beloved" sensei.

Everyone here had the same goal: Get the hell out of this hell hole. As seniors, they could all agree on that one fact. After thirteen years of the learning system, they all just needed so many more months before they could leave for good. The time seemed so short, yet so far away. Almost within their grasp.

Welcome to the senior's homeroom.

The senior's homeroom was notorious for being the most lax in the school, which it was, with most (if not all) the students too preoccupied in their own world to care. many of the students slept right through the utterly useless class, though others optimized their time better, deciding to take the time to go over notes, do homework due the next period, play their hand-held video games, skip the class, or just simply sleep the time away. After an agonizing life filled with paying attention, detentions, psychotic teachers, and pop quizzes, this was almost like a reward for the students (not to mention a large number would probably fail and drop out of high school if they had hard classes and a dreadful homeroom to wake up to almost every morning).

Haku tapped his foot against one of his chair legs, humming slightly to himself as he paid great attention to his nails rather than what ever was going on in the front of the classroom. The disgustingly intoxicating scent of nail polish radiated around the boy as he reapplied a third coat of his favorite purple polish. After this coat would come the gorgeous little stones.

What a way to spend the early morning!! ♥ While the teacher stood in the front of the class to lazily rante and rave about something or other, he was able to sit in an air conditioned room, paint his nails, and socialize with others in the class. Of course, the socializing would have to wait until his nails were completely finished. Most other students didn't see the genius in homeroom, however. They saw it as a waste of time that cut from their sleeping in or doing something they deemed as "better". Though, it was their final year. Nothing like a class that doesn't require any ability whatsoever and allowed you to do whatever you wished.

Hell, you could probably even walk in late and not get so much as a second glance. Haku wouldn't know, however. Coming to school on time was one of the only things he could say he was good at school-wise. Most classes bored him close to death or were too difficult (what does factoring numbers have to do with the real world?). Homeroom was different...special (and he didn't think that only because he got to do his nails in the room almost every class).

[Annabel]

Mornings were not a good time for Hyuga Neji.

Well, actually, Hyuga Neji did not have "good times" as anyone who lived with him would know. 'Is now a good time to talk?' No. 'Is it a good time for you to do insert-menial-task-here?' No. 'Are you having a good time, Neji?' No. Never. This particular morning Neji was going on three hours or less of sleep and was, to put it bluntly, not a happy chappy. Therefore, being a prefect, it was now his sacred duty to make sure nobody else was having a good time.

Provided he could summon the energy to get out of his seat, which took him a good five minutes or so. Since their teacher never really took any interest in what the other seniors might be doing, it apparently fell to him to work out what dreadful deeds were going on around him. With only a quick scan of the classroom he was able to note the absence of several students who were bunking. Sure, nothing actually really happened in homeroom but that didn't mean he should just overlook it. There was a girl across the room chewing gum. Disgusting habit, but he probably couldn't give her too much hell for that. He shook his head and leaned back in his chair -- then, abruptly, he detected an acetonic smell coming from the back of the classroom.

Oh, for the love of God. Some deplorable soul was painting their nails. Normally he wouldn't have bothered; but this morning he was tired and grumpy and some poor sap was breaking the dress code within two metres of him. He sighed and gradually got to his feet, swivelling and striding down to the back of the classroom.

Ah, Yukiko Haku. Strangely, Neji had never really been taken in by his feminine appearance -- actually, he didn't think he'd ever mistaken him for a girl before, though this was possibly because the young man(?)'s reputation as a bit of a genderbender had preceded him. He was cute, Neji noted, with extreme reluctance, and immediately decided to make up for thinking nice things about him by being an enormous jerk.

"Yukiko-kun. The nailpolish." He folded his arms, one hand reaching up to massage his temple. "Must you? That smell is piercing." He shook his head. "Put it away, please."

DISCLAIMER: i r rite gud

[¡El Bandito!]

She was late, but she didn't really care.

Sleep was more important than this bullshit hour-long unnecessary dramafest, and she took her sweet time rolling out of bed, taking her long, hot shower, doing her hair, and pulling on her less-than-modest school uniform. Her excuse? The clothes fit fine until recently, and if they wanted her to wear clothes the right size, they could pay for the replacements themselves, though it might help her case a little more if she didn't wear bras that were rather highly visible from underneath the fabric. In the meantime, though, she found the overall flustered looks from the boys and glares from the girls far too hilarious to warrant paying to end it all. She was technically clothed within regulation, and she could and would argue this to the end with a faint, contrived blush on her face, rolling a button between her fingers.

She walked into the class smelling like hairspray, coffee, and cigarettes; she had stopped for a leisurely smoke break before even considering entering the classroom, and the coffee smell seemed to permeate all her clothing despite the fact that she had to wear a completely different uniform at the cafe where she worked. Her music was blaring far too loud, but she ignored the glares from her fellow classmates and the teacher - really, he should be happy she bothered to show up at all, considering she hadn't even eaten breakfast yet. Besides, Joan Jett was far more interesting than anything the old man or any of the kids around her had to say; really, more people should not give a damn about their reputations, and maybe high school wouldn't be such a bitch.

Briefly, Haruka contemplated whether there was a 'Gospel According to Punk Rock' anywhere, and if 'Don't Give A Damn About Your Bad Reputation' was somewhere on the list. Probably, she decided, and if not, it really should be.

She sat in a desk that appeared for all intents and purposes to be vacant, so she slung the heavy black backpack from her shoulders and onto the floor, pulling out a large, mottled apple from the side pocket and taking a bite, chewing loudly as she proceeded to not pay attention to what was going on in the class itself. Presumably nothing had changed since the day before, or even the week before, in all liklihood. Blah blah firedrill, blah blah school dance she had no real intention of going to, blah blah visiting colleges her father would probably expect her to sit in on, but... eh. It was her life, not his; he could apply and write the damn essays himself if the institution was so important to him.

Swallowing her first bit of apple, she sniffed - someone was painting their nails in class... and it wasn't her? No guesses as to who else it could be - a certain long-haired pretty boy with excellent taste in women's underwear. She looked around to find her new friend Haku, only to spot him behind her with what looked like his snobbier, angrier, stick-up-his-ass prefect evil twin standing next to his desk, telling him off for something or other. She shrugged to herself - not her problem, she decided mentally - and took another bite of the fruit.

[Sho's Sexy Pants ♥]

A pleading look was thrown Haruka-chan's way as he dealt with the senior class's biggest hall monitor: Hyuga Neji-san, only to find she wasn't there. Crap.

He had the most amazing-looking hair and seemed to take proper care of his face, and yet, he had no desire for Haku to paint his nails during this class? How odd. "Ah, is it that, perhaps... He paused for a moment, finishing a nail and bringing his attention up to his classmate, "You'd care for me to do your nails as well, Neji-san?" One glance at his nails and Haku could tell they were in desperate need of attention. With a bit of TLC they could really bring out the inner jack ass in him. "Or, perhaps you'd care to draw your attention away from the polish, hnn? I have juuust the thing! &hearts" Haku waved one hand in the air lightly a few times, attempting to dry the polish from his hand, before reaching into his Marry Poppins bag of wonder and pulling out an age-old GameBoy Color (the pink one for added lulz fabulo-sity). "Would...you, perhaps, care to play some Mario Tennis? I...also have some pokemon if you'd rather play that..." He laughed lightly, setting the aged system on the desk before drawing his attention back to what was really most important in this classroom: his nails.

Just as he did, however, the door opened, revealing his new shopping friend, HaRuka, who was simply fabulous in every way. His expression calmed as he waved to the girl from across the room, unsure if she could hear from her booming music or loud chomping. Not very lady-like...But still, a friend nonetheless! he glanced back to the stick in the mud for a moment, before turning back to Ruka, wondering if she'd be his knight in shining armor. She certainly fit the part better than he did. He wasn't much of a knight. Much too dirty and not to mention his nails would be in jeopardy. Even if those knights in age-old lore had a certain type of mystery and fashion to them.

His eyes trailed down, following the floor and path of fake-wooden desks back to his own, wondering if Neji-san would agree to having his nails done. There wasn't a guarantee, though who says a boy can't be hopeful, yes? Fufufu, and if, on the off chance, Neji took up his offer, perhaps the two could become...friends? Friendship was like an open invitation to give each other makeovers, which, to say the least, excited him. His eyes refused to move much more, as he forced his line of vision up his classmate's body, stopping at about eye-level, or, in this case, Neji's stomach.

[Amaya]

Thankfully her shoes were not squeaking this morning as the short brunette wandered down the empty halls, she was late. Blissfully late, which was nice seeing as how her head was pounding. She really should remember to not drink on school nights. Especially not as much as she had. You would think that since she was a senior she would know not to drink on school nights, not to skip, and to do all of her homework. Yeah right, she scraped by with grades good enough to let her play volleyball and that was it.

Thankfully with homeroom as a first class and the sensei being the kind of teacher who didn't care if you were late she was lucky. Glancing down the hall to where the door to her room was she noticed she was not the only person walking in late. Oochi Haruka also appeared to be arriving late, the now empty hall was kind of growing creepy so she hurried her steps and arrived in the class room. Which, as it did on many mornings, smelled of nail polish. Glancing at Haruka, who was apparently not the one with the nail polish out this morning, seeing as how she was eating an apple. That left the boy she sometimes wished was a girl.

If any man could make her go back to liking men it might just be Haku, he was a very feminine boy, it was rather cute. It appeared he was being harassed by the other pretty boy, who she used as a explanation and reminder as to why she didn't like men. Raising a thin eyebrow she glanced around for a seat, while also keeping a eye on the interaction between the two guys. This could turn into an amusing interaction, but not one she would get involved in unless needed. Suzume knew all of her class mates, but there were few she was close with. Still she was a bit to hungover to want to deal with a fight and while the nail polish didn't help it was easier on her brain than a fight would be.

Finding an open seat on the far side of the room she walked over and ditched her bag by her desk, laying her head onto the cool wood in hopes of soothing the pounding in her brain. Closing her eyes she wondered if she had any pain killers in her bag. She would need to get the motivation and look, but she would do that in a moment. For now she was going to rest her head and eavesdrop on the conversation at hand.

[Annabel]

"No. Yukiko-kun, please put it away, or I'll give you a detention." He was definitely, definitely not interested in having his nails done -- though at the same time, there was a little twist in his stomach suggesting he would actually very much like for his nails to be painted. Vaguely, Neji wondered when someone had last touched his hands. Touched... anything, actually. He didn't even really remember the last time someone had hugged him; and, because he was very tired, he bit his lip for a moment and looked away before he returned to being a horrible jerkface; largely because a Gameboy had just been presented to him and he was not quite sure what to make of it. He scowled.

"Is... is this a joke?" he asked incredulously, as the boy immediately returned to painting his nails. He was not enjoying this; Haku was completely ignoring him. What was more, he was incredibly uncomfortable with the way the other boy's eyes were scrutinising him from the feet up. He subconsciously shifted and breathed in as he realised Haku was looking straight at his stomach. Unfamiliar discomfort coiled around his stomach. What was with this guy? Didn't he realise it was rude to stare? "Yukiko-kun, I'm afraid I don't find this as amusing as you do. Not only have I never heard of Mario Tennis, but I'm finding you very rude. Don't ignore me." Pause, then; "...Please," he added as an afterthought. No, that was too nice. "I don't have time for this."

He turned his head as another student entered, and then another. Ochi Haruka... and Oita Suzume, neither of whom he knew very well. He checked them off mentally and made a note to mark them "present, but late". He knew almost everyone in his year group by sight; which made him unofficially responsible for taking attendance in the morning. Not that he particularly minded. Anything to show he was teacher's pet worthy. In the meantime, however, he was busy with Yukiko Haku who was probably still not listening to him. "I don't want you to paint my nails. Or yours; not in school, anyway. I'll let it go if you at least get rid of those little diamantes. They're incredibly tacky, Haku-kun." Not that he knew about diamantes. Or nail polish. Or any of those things. Because he was a perfectly masculine young man (with fantastic hair) and that was all that mattered.

[Zaiachi Kiomi]

Homeroom was homeroom no matter what the circumstances were.

There was one, a teacher. One who would either bore the crap out of his or her students with a long ass rant about how mean they were for not paying attention. Two, there were the students. The students could be classified into different groups. The Achievers; these were the kids that had the passion to do their homework before bedtime, pass exams their exams or the pop quiz without making even one itsy-bitsy mistake, that they were the people who made sure their class records were filled with straight A’s or A+’s. A B flat would probably make them cry. Of course they were also the target of the next group, the Bullies. They’re pricks who didn’t do their assignment. They were so absorbed in bullying others which gave them a brain size that’s smaller than peanuts. Hence she called them idiotic flea brains. It wasn’t because they acted like fleas though; more so, it was because their brains were the size OF fleas—small and hardly detectable. The third kind would be the Geeks. They were enthusiasts! Not only were they good in science and math, they’re pretty good in technology too, gamer wise at least. They weren’t so bad though until they open their mouths and spat out equations that is. The fourth would be the Jocks. Sports minded. It was all about sports, chicks, banging chicks and then more sports. And then the fifth was their muse, the Preps. They were these cheerleader types of girls that had that weird speech intonation that made Kiomi want to make them cry. The sixth were the outcasts. No one knew about them. No one bothered to go near them, but hey, they were the good people. No one just had enough guts to say hello because everyone else thought they were weird. Well guess what, they’re just limited edition! And then there was the last kind, the Delinquents. It was a personal favorite on Kiomi’s part. They were higher than the bullies but it didn’t mean they were flea bitten maggots that clung to geeks like parasites for the next math quiz(Blunt, isnt she?), they were better than that. Some delinquents were smart but chose to be liberated thus getting low marks. Some were geniuses but had attitude problems that spoke for them whenever they knew someone was wrong. They’re free, and hip. They knew how to party and knew more practical things in life. Yes, the bias was there, going through the lilac haired bitch’s head as she walked down the hallway and into class. Homeroom was homeroom everywhere she went, and most of the students had this one thing in common. Most of them never paid attention during homeroom. And that’s why it didn’t matter which homeroom she ended up in.

This morning was the reenactment of hell. Mimiru didn’t come to her flat today which forced her to TRY and COOK some breakfast. But even before she could light the stove, she ran away from it when the slightest flicker of fire showed itself…epic, fail. Kiomi was left with no alternative except for buttered toast. And the toaster had the nerve to be an ass, giving her the slice of loaf pretty much inedible because of all the black. It was charred down to the crust. HMN, crispy! Not exactly so thrilling, and if that wasn’t enough, she tried befriending her enemy only for her to yell, “BAD MATCH STICK, BAD!”[/i] when it finally sparked a flame; so really she didn’t care which boring homeroom it was that she ended up in. Oh yes, she was already late too. Not exactly a good thing. It contributed to the menacing aura that she had at the moment. The charismatic charm she inherited from her mom was thrown in the back burner for today as she scowled at practically anyone who tried to greet her. And in bad times, there was only one solution…

“Haruka, is there an empty seat beside you?”

All this she asked while opening the classroom’s back door and didn’t mind if the adviser was in or not. Kiomi had her bag slung over her shoulder while her shades sat neatly atop her lilac tresses. In the room she scanned for her friend, silver eyes at work in order to locate that amalgamation of salmon pink, orange and red…whom she spotted fairly quick. Aside from that…

So, the boredom syndrome struck the seniors too. Typical.[/i]

…it really was a typical homeroom.

[¡El Bandito!]

Haruka never particularly saw herself as the motherly type. She was the last person who would ever take annoying bratty shit from people, and most sane humans probably wouldn't want her nursing their cuts or skinned knees. But, regardless of what anyone might assume, Haruka was prepared for basically anything, as long as she had her backpack with her.

She watched with some sort of sick schadenfreude amusement as Suzume walked in looking like death incarnate, flopping into the desk next to hers that she hadn't even noticed was empty (she was paying a lot of attention that morning, tru fax). But while it was amusing for the first few seconds, Haruka found herself increasingly sympathetic to the girl's plight as the second hand dragged itself slowly around the clock. Oblivious to Haku's pleading stares, Haruka knelt down and pulled a small, travel-sized bottle of asprin out of the front pocket of her bag before digging around in the first large pocket that typically housed her snacks for the day and pulling out a baggie of rice crackers. Not bothering to be at all incognito, she passed them to the brown-haired girl who clearly needed both more than she at the moment.

Almost as soon as she did so, it seemed as though she heard yet another person demanding her assistance for something or other. At this rate, she may as well buy a minivan, start wearing a whistle around her neck, and organize after-school playdates. Goddamn.

It took the salmon-haired girl a moment to register the fact that if Kiomi was using her full name to address her, something was probably up. She turned around to find the body her friend's voice was attached to, eventually spying lilac tresses peeking through the cracked classroom door. She waved the girl down, beckoning the younger girl towards her with the half-eaten apple - there weren't any more open seats (in fact, now that she looked at where she was seated it didn't look like even the one she had pirated for her own less-than-noble intentions was free), but she had a lap and clearly someone needed a hug or some gesture equally tender and mushy. "No," she yelled back to the girl, "But that's never stopped us before."

[Amaya]

Lifting her head off the cold desk she saw something that might have been sent from god, or at very least a god-send from Haruka who she was apparently sitting by. This day might just seem to be getting better, and that was good seeing as how she was only in the first class of the day. Thankfully there was both aspirin and food now in place on her desk, maybe the world didn't hate her. “Thanks.” She got out before there was more loud voices in the shape of a friend of Haruka's who was not a senior. Wincing at the yelling the brunette opted for the smart rout this morning and opened the small bottle in front of her. Taking out two pills and looking at them in her hand she paused before adding a third pill and then recapping the bottle.

Putting the bottle back on her desk she tossed all three pills into her mouth and swallowed them. Her only hope that was they would kick in soon. Taking a rice cracker she nibbled on it while trying to decided what would be more entertaining. Haruka and the new girl or Neji and Haku. That would prove to be a most difficult decision she thought as she looked around the room. Blinking she noticed that a particular brunette was missing. Kankuro that lazy ass where was he!? An annoyed expression crossing her face she said to no one in particular “Anyone know where Kankuro's late ass is?” Trying to remember where her phone was she debated texting her partner in crime to see what happened that she was missing out on. Seeing as how he had better not be skipping for something important and not letting her in on it.

Finding her phone at the bottom of her bag she pulled out the almost broken, worn down, flip phone and with well practiced movements, that she like most people of her age had, sent a short and not so sweet telling Kankuro that he should get his ass to class now or he is gonna owe her lunch and maybe a drink after school. Not that she might not mooch lunch off him anyway, if she stayed at school that long. It was really very tempting to just go home and sleep some more, still she needed to stay. You have to get good grades to stay in volleyball she reminded herself. At times she really did hate that sport that she loved oh so much.

[Sho's Sexy Pants ♥]

There was something about this Neji fellow that Haku couldn't quite identify what it was. It was as though the guy sent out mixed signals. Did he or didn't he want his nails painted? It looked as though he did. nevertheless, he kept the bright bottle of polish out, not wanting to waste a perfectly good homeroom. Haku forced his eyes back to his classmate's as he started, "De...detention...? That's not...very nice Neji-kun. Not even grade-schoolers tattle about such trivial matters..." And here he was being nice to this stick in the mud. Neji's even the one who came up to him. Haku had done Neji no wrong and yet...

Wait. Did he really just say that?[/color] Neji had never heard of Mario Tennis? What kind of horrible life had Hyuga-san had in all his years to never hear of Mario Tennis. He'd at least heard of pokemon...right? There's no way anyone in Tokyo of all places could have NOT heard of pokemon (though he could probably make the same case about Mario Tennis). It was, after all, known throughout the entire world. Even in the west! Haku frowned, more for his poor, deprived friend than for him being threatened with a detention, "If you've never heard of Mario Tennis, I'd be more than willing to lend you my gameboy." He smirked, giggling, "And I am listening to you, Neji-kun. it would be quite rude of me to ignore a classmate." Haku didn't seem to quite understand what Neji was saying. He was, in all honesty, only half paying attention ever since the Mario Tennis comment, though he wouldn't let that little piece of information out. Some things are, after all, better left unsaid. Please? Wait, why did he say please just now...?

Oh! ♥ That's what he meant!!! He didn't want to paint nails at school. Perhaps he would be too embarrassed to do so in front of so many peers. Haku had known enough people to know some preferred to paint their nails in the privacy of their own home, or someone else's. Even Zabuza had a hard time letting his nails get pampered, though it has been done (though it took a little while and a lot of begging). "Ah! I understand then!" haku practically jumped out of his seat with excitement (though in all actuality he kept his cute little bum glued to the chair). An aura of joy seemed to surround the young man as his grin widened, showing his teeth off in the artificial lighting, "If that's the case, when shall we go and paint your nails? I may not look like much, though I can do quite a good job!" He winked, "And if the little diamonds aren't your thing, we can opt for something more your style! A soft pink, perhaps? ♥" It seemed as though he made yet another friend at this school! And this one would be getting his nails done!!

[Zaiachi Kiomi]

That’s what she liked about senior homeroom. Even if there weren’t any extra chairs to accommodate her highness, there was always a seat as long as Haruka was in the vicinity. There was a small pout on her face as she finally entered the classroom fully, not really caring if there were some wayward stares given to the intruding Junior. Homeroom was homeroom after all no matter which one attended. Of course, the Senior’s advising sensei wasn’t really going to be the one to give her the much needed class standing, but maybe he could tell his teaching buddy that she WAS indeed present for homeroom.

Careful strides were made and before long she found herself planted on the salmon haired girl’s lap. So comforting and warm…ah the whole package was indeed loveable in more than one way. If only Haruka could be manufactured, the world would be a better place. Not to mention comfortable laps. But of course, she’d rather not share her friend for the same purposes as she did get quite attached and didn’t exactly favor other people having what was hers. At that moment after jumping onto her friend’s lap for much needed love, affection and a possible kitty type of petting, her moment of hugging Haruka had come to a stop when she remembered over hearing something just before she came in. She heard that right, right? RIGHT?! Someone else who didn’t know Mario Tennis…Kiomi had played various games on her own game boy (although she had moved onto its PSP brethren) but never once came into contact with Mario Tennis. NEVER.

“Oh my god Mr. Frowns and Sunshine, we should go somewhere together and play!”

She retorted with excitement before finally giving Haruka a very affectionate (almost filled with despair) hug. Now that she had gotten her retort for Neji out of her system one part of her was good. Oh and she had to summon up all the courage and defiance in her just to say that since Kiomi did find that seemingly…prick of a man, intimidating. The girl had noticed him for the longest time now, not as long as others but still long. She was stalker-ish in her own way, a little bad habit that she had. And the girl always noticed that the famed Hyuuga always seemed to have a stick up his ass; strict. He always seemed angry or impatient, but prim and proper, oh and he had fantastic hair! He was like this box that she wanted to rip open but was too afraid to even get close too. But anyway…

“Ruuuuukaaa~” She whined childishly and sounding as if she was ready to cry. “I almost burned the apartment down…I was so scared…”

Although while narrating this last part of her tale, it seemed that the seriousness had faded away. She didn’t sound as if she was scared at all. In fact she it seemed like she was joking, except of course for the cold sweat and the entirety of her body losing all its vivid color which made her look pale, it really didn’t look like she was THAT affected at all. She looked absolutely alright…but this was because she couldn’t completely “baby up” in front of other people, not to mention strangers. Kiomi was shameless, …but I’m not that shameless. She mused.

“But I’m a bit better now! Since I already saw Ruka!” Miraculously the other girl was like a cure. Haruka did remedy a lot of things for Kiomi, her mood being one. So with that she continued to latch onto her and even going as far as kissing the other’s cheek out of pure unadulterated joy. The little unofficial starlet was pretty much oblivious to the presence of others, that or she chose not to notice them. Yes, Kiomi was shameless, but not that—well she might be a bit more shameless than she initially thought herself to be.

[Annabel]

"I just said I didn't want to. Put it away." Was he dense or something? Sure, painting your nails at school wasn't a cardinal sin or anything, but it wasenough to irritate him at this hour. A proper psychiatric evaluation of Hyuga Neji might have revealed that his callous nature was a defense mechanism, and his hostility merely an outlet for his vast array of suppressed emotions. Freud would probably have a field day with him; 'his hatred for boys painting their nails probably stemmed from his own latent homosexual feelings', or something like that. The truth, however, was that none of his classmates were psychiatrists, and could not be expected to interpret his behaviour as being anything other than the result of being, to paraphrase, "a huge dickhead".

He turned his head when he heard someone shouting at him. Huh. "Frowns and Sunshine"... hadn't heard that one before. He turned away again quickly, a little embarrassed by the proposition, which he had immediately dismissed as sarcasm; anyone who thought Neji considered "play" of any kind an option at this stage of his life was clearly delusional. He might have ignored her completely if he hadn't abruptly noticed that the girl Zaiachi-san was cuddling up to was sitting in his chair. Great. Just peachy. Someone else to butt heads with later. Ironically, he found that while he was contemplating this, he hadn't actually been listening to Haku, when he'd just been berating him for not paying attention. Well, that was awkward.

"I don't want you to paint my nails. At all. Ever." Stupid boy. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Neji wasn't even sure why he felt so angry; didn't even know why he was biting back so much hate.
He wanted to paint his nails. He wanted to. Or, at least, he wanted to be the sort of person who could paint his nails without feeling insecure about teasing or bullying; he wanted to be able to feel the way he felt without needing to deny it to himself and everyone else so much. So, when he looked at Haku, he was angry. Angry because Haku was everything that he, despite all he'd achieved, could never let himself become. He wondered if Haku let himself love whoever he liked as well, without the self-hatred Neji felt on a semi-daily basis.
You are filthy. You are stupid. What you feel will never make you happy. Nobody could love you for who you are; not the way these idiots love him. Not they way they love sassy, cute little Yukiko Haku.
It didn't make sense; but the mind of a confused teenage boy rarely does. All Neji knew now was that he didn't want to look at him any more. He turned away; and as soon as he wasn't looking at him, as soon as he didn't feel jealous or guilty or all of the other horrible things that he felt he was able to snap. "Just shut up. I'm not interested in that effeminate rubbish. I don't like pink, I don't like nail polish, and I don't like you. Don't speak to me again."

His eyes were stinging. What's wrong with me? I've always been able to control this before... why...? He felt like he wasn't controlling his own body. That was a horrible thing to say. Why would I say that to someone? It's true I don't really like him, but...
It was at this point he realised, very awkwardly, that he had just tried to get back into his desk with someone else sitting there. Oh, Ochi Haruka. His favourite girl in the world. Or... maybe not. It wasn't that they had a history; it was more of a mutual understanding that they hated each other's guts. And right now, Neji did not feel stable as he normally did; he could not be bothered starting anything with her, especially since he was still feeling incredibly stupid about almost sitting on her. Instead, he did something he very rarely resorted to; he simply gave up, and picked up his bag so he could move seats without saying a word to her.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Today was not shaping up to be an excellent day.

ooc; tl;dr: "how do I had giant mood swing?"

[¡El Bandito!]

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Haruka chewed the bite of apple in her mouth, listening to her poor bestie's tale of woe and wrapping her arms around the younger girl as she flopped into her lap and kissed her cheek. Sure, Kiomi's childish whine had made the entire thing sound like a joke to the uninitiated, as though it was just the usual overreacting of a teenager being forced to cook and look after themselves (oh, the horror!) but Haruka knew that Kiomi and fire did not mix.

Haruka was no master chef herself, but at least she knew how to use a stove... even though most of the time her food was of the snacky-variety. Even if she new how, she couldn't be bothered to actually get up and cook in the morning beyond perhaps boiling some water or putting some toast in the toaster. The fact that she couldn't eat most bacon and eggs and the like anyway was always a plus.

"It's all right," she said, running the fingers of her free hand through the other girl's hair in an attempt to calm her down. The Ochi knew better than to make a big deal of the incident. both because dwelling on it would keep her friend scared, and because it might tip other people off to the fact that Kiomi most certainly didn't belong in the Senior's homeroom, as though that wasn't already obvious. Haruka offered Kiomi her now half-eaten apple, since the younger girl hadn't gotten anything to eat yet and if there was one thing Haruka always had with her at school it was food. Fruit rolls, rice cakes, a few satsumas... there may well have been more fruit in her backpack than actual schoolwork.

Looking over at Suzume as she questioned the whereabouts of Kankuro, she shrugged. She didn't really know the guy, nor did she particularly care.

What Haruka did find interesting, on the other hand, was the prefect's outburst at her lovely Snowflake. Hopefully Haku didn't take that too harshly... what did one say when they were outright told that they were not liked? Especially someone so dainty and effeminate as Haku?

The Ochi girl bit her lip as soon as she saw Neji approaching her desk, sure that she was about to get the same treatment from the angry prefect for coming in late... only to watch the Hyuga grab the extra backpack under her desk (apparently this desk had been his) and silently pick a new desk. Strange, usually the dark-haired boy had no problems telling her just how he felt about her breaking the rules and being an overall nuisance around the school.

But, she decided after a moment of continued consolation of the lilac-haired girl in her lap, she didn't really care. She didn't expect him to be particularly interested or caring if she ever had a bad day, and so she was hardly inclined to be so herself to his plight.