Skipping Out On Classes (Open)

[Watanabe Nanako]

School was pointless. At least, that was what Nanako had decided, anyway. Absolutely pointless. The teachers, the lessons, everything, had no real meaning to her. Pulling a cigarette out of her pack of Marlboro, she lit it up with her Zippo, before placing it between her lips as she shoved past some of the students on the stairwell. The students at this place were also useless... Hardly any were willing to give her a fight.

Sighing, she trudged her way up the stairs, ignoring the bell as it rang, signalling the end of lunch and the start of the next lesson. As students passed by her on the stairs, they stuck to the opposite side of the stairwell from her. Good, they're learning... She had only been attending the school for a matter of a few days, and even then, she didn't show up to all of her classes. Wish one of them was stupid enough to start something, though.

Eventually reaching the last set of stairs, Nanako noticed the sign hung on a chain at the top. Smirking, she removed the cigarette from her lips, holding it between two fingers, and exhaling the smoke slowly. Like a sign was going to stop her from going up onto the roof... Also, she had heard that the gang of Yankees here at Karasumori frequented the roof, and she was wondering if any of them were there.

She was curious only because she wanted to see if they were as "hardcore" as people had said, not to join them or whatever. A part of her was also curious if she could get one of them to fight, especially Azuma Wataru. Inhaling from her cigarette again, she kicked open the door that led to the roof rather forcefully, before looking around.

Damn, no one's here...

A little disappointed, Nanako frowned, before she took the cigarette from between her lips again to exhale. She took a few steps towards the chairs that sat at one side of the roof, the chains she had attached to the waist band of her skirt hanging down and clinking softly, and her boots scuffing the ground.

Uniform wasn't something that Nanako bothered with. She had added chains to her skirt, wore ripped black tights, didn't wear a blazer, but instead a black hoody. Her tie was loose, her shirt wasn't buttoned up properly, and she had boots upon her feet instead of normal school shoes. Her hair was cut in ragged layers that framed her pretty, feminine face, and her dark brown eyes were framed with a thin line of black.

Kicking one of the metal-framed chairs, making a clang echo in the air as it hit one of the others, Nanako placed her free hand on her hip. She figured that she could just stay here for the time-being. After all, someone might show up, and it wasn't like she cared that she was missing class right now. With her mind made up, she sat on one of the chairs, her boot-clad feet resting up on another one.

[Kiyama Ryuichiro]

He felt bad, strolling down the halls after the bells had rung, knowing full well he wasn't going to class.

Kiyama wasn't quite your normal yankee. His main offense was truancy. He would cut class because he wanted to waste time at the arcade, because the wind felt good on his face that day, because it was Thursday and he was sick of the week already. If he was already at school, he wanted to read a manga or have a smoke or not look at the Japanese teacher's face. Hell, he knew the language already, why did he need to go to class for it?

Oh yeah, he had obligations now.

He'd joined that team on a whim. Takenaka and his friends -- hell, it was their life, and even Wataru had gotten into it. He honestly liked the kids, and admired their earnestness and dedication to their sport... to each other. He wanted to respect that, so he tried to follow those obligations. He shouldn't fight or make trouble and so on and so forth... but he was a yankee and the day was growing long and there was no way he'd get through math class, let alone through practice later that afternoon, if he couldn't smoke just one.

With one part of his brain telling him that he shouldn't be doing what he's about to do, and another just making a desperate cry for nicotine, he made his way up the stairwell to the rooftop. Ducking under that "NO ENTRY" sign no one gave a damn about he pushed through the door.

And he saw her.

On the roof. Sitting in his chair.

The sight was so unexpected, he couldn't help but stop and stare for a moment. In his three years of attendance at Karasumori, he had not once seen a girl grace the school roof. He figured a lot of it was the spot's reputation; it was a hangout for delinquents, after all. But one look told him that this girl wasn't your average Kara High schoolgirl; she wasn't sugar and spice and every thing nice. The makeup, the unorthodox clothing, the fact she was smoking on school grounds... she was a delinquent, too. A girl yankee. Those were rare, particularly in a small town like this one. He'd never heard about the likes of her before... was she a new student? Oh well, it didn't really matter.

Whoever she was, Kiyama couldn't help but be annoyed. This stranger was intruding on his space, but he wasn't the type to cause trouble. Causing trouble was... well, too much trouble.

Besides, Kiyama never came to the roof to socialize. Even the other yankees at the school would let him be long enough to take his smoke break, read a few chapters of the weekly manga digest, or just lean against the railing and ponder the meaning of life. But for some reason, she didn't strike him as the type that wanted to socialize either. Or maybe she did. Maybe she was looking for trouble. Again, it didn't matter. Within seconds, her presence, along with the worries of the day would fade away with the first drag he took. It would only last for a few minutes, but that was all he really needed.

He recovered, leaving the girl to her own smoke break, making a beeline to the railing a few meters away from her. Back turned to her, he looked over now-empty schoolyard, and quickly went to work. He yanked a pack from his pocket, and the cigarette from his pack, slipping it between his lips. He then pulled out his lighter -- it was one of those 100-yen disposable ones you get from the drugstores, but it was all he could find that morning.

Click. Click, Click, click. Clickclickclickclickclick...

It was also out of fluid.

Seriously?

He stood there for a moment, letting the cigarette dangle form his lips. God, after the brutality that had been the history quiz he didn't study for, and before the brutality that would be pre-competition gymnastics practice... dammit, he needed one.

As if to mock him, the light breeze carried some of her cigarette smoke towards him. It twisted and snaked around his face, stinging his eyes slightly. He really didn't want to acknowledge the girl, and got the feeling that she didn't want to acknowledge him, either. But he needed this. But he didn't want to talk. Damn, he hated his life sometimes.

Defeated, he turned around, eying the girl. Making his best effort not to talk in the low mumble he was inclined to talk in at the moment, he asked her. "You got a light?"

[Watanabe Nanako]

Crossing her ankles as she continued to sit there, Nanako exhaled some more of the cigarette smoke. Her free hand grasped her zippo, casually flicking it open and closed as her gaze wandered over to the other buildings, and the sea that wasn’t as far away from the school as she thought. Might have to stop by it sometime… she thought to herself, taking another drag of the cigarette and exhaling once again.

She had never been to the beach before. The closest she had got was a sandbox in the garden as a child. She and her family were hardly the type to travel for hours just to go to the beach. They lived too far inland and, to be frank, they weren’t the happiest of families. Although part of her was curious though, about what it was like; the sand, the sea…

She supposed she should be more bothered by the fact her family didn’t give a damn. But no, she wasn’t. At least, not anymore, or so she told herself. She wasn’t about to admit that she missed them, or she was hurt by how she had been forced out of the house to go and stay with her grandmother.

Though, of course, her family wanted nothing to do with her now, did they?

Her gaze flickered up as the door to the roof opened, although she remained sitting as relaxed as she was before. The tall boy that walked out took one look at her and froze. Brown met brown as Nanako met the stranger’s stare straight on. She wasn’t sure exactly why he seemed surprised. Maybe it was because she was a girl, or maybe it was because she was a stranger on the school gang’s ground. Either way, she couldn’t say she cared.

Even as the tall boy looked away and walked over to the railing, Nanako’s gaze followed him. She didn’t speak, but only sat there still, thinking quietly to herself. There was something she couldn’t quite place about the boy, and it bothered her a little. He didn’t seem to be like a lot of other yankees that she had met in her life. If this had been her old school, and some new student had just waltzed onto yankee territory, there would most definitely have been a fight.

And yet, there the boy stood, doing nothing but minding his own business.

Her lips twisted a little in thought as she pushed up the sleeves of her hoody to her elbows, before crossing her arms over her chest. She was kind of glad that he was keeping himself to himself, but there was this small part of her that was a little irked and annoyed, though she couldn’t place why.

Her gaze wandered off to the view again, as she crossed her legs. Though, that didn’t last long as a clicking reached her ears and her gaze went back to the boy, who seemed like he was having some lighter issues. Her lips twitched slightly as he looked back at her and spoke.

Wordlessly, she tossed her zippo in his direction, hoping to kami-sama that he managed to catch it. She sat quietly again for a minute, taking another drag of her cigarette. Uncrossing her ankles, she set her feet on the ground, a frown down-turning the corners of her lips slightly.

Sighing, she leant further back in the chair nonchalantly, her eyes flickering from the view back to the boy. She debated silently whether she should say anything or not as she brought her cigarette back to her lips.

[Kiyama Ryuichiro]

Kiyama wasn't answered with words, but by a flick of the girl's wrist. She tossed her lighter to him with little warning. Luckily, Kiyama was quick enough to catch it before it flew over the side of the building.

When he opened his hands, he felt a little glad he did. In his palm was one of those old Zippos with the artsy designs on them. How... alternative. He looked back up, to the girl to see her lips curl and her feet hit the ground, in those... excessive boots. About two seconds ago he would've thought the lighter was unexpected, but that second glance at her made him think otherwise.

She tries hard to keep that image up. Damn hard.

Kiyama turned around again. With a flick of the lighter's switch, he was triumphantly greeted with the pleasantly harsh burning against the back of his throat and the slight buzz of his afternoon smoke. Exhaling, he looked back to the horizon. It was cloudy. The breeze felt nice.

He'd found his place for the day. He forgot about quizzes and practice and all those frivolous things, but there was that other thought again. "She tries too hard."

He guessed it was a high school thing -- from the girls that wake up way too early in the morning to curl their hair... the jocks that wear their tracksuits even on the weekend... to even most, no, maybe all of the yankees he knew, with their dyed hair and constant scowls. Image was so important. Some people genuinely marched to the beat of their own drum, but most of them were more concerned with the thoughts of others. When you watch people enough, you can tell who's who. Kiyama fancied himself good at discerning who fit into which column.

Of most people he knew -- the flashy Tsukimori Ryosuke was the first that came to mind -- the attention to such things was so unreasonable it made Kiyama chuckle and shake his head. But new girl, here...

Dammit. He wasn't supposed to be thinking about her, it was his break.

He turned around, and tossed the lighter back to the girl, mumbling a "thanks". The girl was invading his space... wasn't she? For some reason, he felt uncomfortable all the sudden. He turned back around, leaning on the railing a bit more than before.

Despite the buildup, the smoke hadn't quite worked out as Kiyama hoped it would. He didn't really want to return to class yet, anyway, so he figured he'd have another. He plucked the near-finished cigarette from his lips, pulled another out of the pack in his pocket and used it to light the new one. While taking the puffs to get the new one going, he looked towards the sky again, trying to re-focus his thoughts.

[Watanabe Nanako]

Nanako kept a blank expression on her face, as she turned her gaze back to the view, able to distantly hear noises from open classroom window. She hadn’t expected to be put back into school when she came to live with her grandmother, so she felt uncomfortable just being there. Her grandmother had insisted, however, and Nanako could hardly refuse perhaps the one relative that she had left that gave a damn about her.

However, almost inevitably her gaze turned back to the boy at the railing. It was odd though, the feeling she had. She couldn’t place it, and it annoyed her. She hated not knowing things or being confused, especially when it was with herself. She frowned now instead, standing up and walking out across the roof to the railing on the opposite side of the boy. Leaning against the railing, she sighed and kept her gaze fixated on the buildings that made up Miura.

On this side of the building though, the sea wasn’t visible which kind of ruined the ‘sight-seeing’ for her. Before she could mentally complain about it though, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye and the boy spoke, saying a slightly mumbled ”thanks” and tossing her the lighter back, barely even looking at her before turning back around.

She narrowed her eyes slightly. What kind of yankee was this guy? He seemed quiet and somewhat awkward in the presence of others, at least that was what she guessed from the fact that he barely even looked at her and he was practically ignoring her existence. Any other yankee would have most likely been right up in her face by now, as hot-headed as most of them were. She was a stranger, and she was on ‘their turf’.

But this guy...no, he was different. Exactly how different was unclear, but he definitely wasn’t a typical yankee at the very least. Clucking her tongue against the roof of her mouth absently, she pulled another cigarette out of the packet in her pocket and lit it up, placing the packet back in her pocket, but keeping the lighter in her hand to fiddle with.

Turning to look at him again, her arms crossed over her chest, remaining silent for a moment longer before finally speaking. “Just going to ignore me?” she asked, though the tone in her mildly husky voice implied that whatever he answered she didn’t give a damn either way. Too curious not to ask, she uncrossed her arms and leant back, resting her elbows on the railing behind her.

“Quite frankly, I’m surprised. Normally Yankees aren’t so...quiet,” she said, tilting her head slightly to the side, mainly to get some of the hair out of her eyes without having to move her arms. She pursed her lips slightly as she stopped talking, keeping her steady deep brown gaze on the tall boy across from her. That was probably the most she had spoken all day, now that she thought about it.



((ooc - words cannot express how SORRY I am that I took so long with this D: and I'm sorry if it sucks =/))

[Kiyama Ryuichiro]

Kiyama heard shuffling behind him. The girl was moving, but the lack of a creaking sound from the door told him that she hadn't left yet. He furrowed his brows and rolled the cigarette in his mouth with his tongue, rather disappointed by that fact. Then he resumed finding to find his "place", hoping that girl would keep quiet long enough for him to finish his break.

The second his mind slipped into blissful nothingness, he heard something.

"Just going to ignore me?"

Kiyama looked up briefly, still not bothering to turn around.

She does talk.

Her voice was loud and kind of rough; Kiyama wondered if she sounded like that before she'd picked up the smoking habit. He took another drag. Nasty things, these cancer sticks.

As interesting as that thought was, he really, really didn't want to engage with anyone that afternoon. And he hoped that girl wasn't making some cry for attention.

So he stayed still, not reacting to her, hoping that she would take that as an answer.

But she didn't.

"Quite frankly, I’m surprised. Normally Yankees aren’t so...quiet," she added. Kiyama raised an eyebrow, half a chuckle leaving his lips. That wasn't the first time he'd heard something like that.

After a moment, he decided to dignify her with a reply. She had let him borrow the lighter, he guessed. He could offer a few words.

"If I disappoint you, then rest assured that there are quite a few more... 'normal' yankees here. Maybe they'll live up to your expectations."

Kiyama rarely concerned himself with the details and definitions anyway. Functionally, he was a yankee. Teachers looked at him and cringed, most peers avoided him, and there was a certain niche of people that thought they were justified in starting fights with him for no other reason than just the way he looked. Because that's how the world worked.

Funny how the girl who looked like she was trying so hard to be different was pigeonholing him like all the rest.

It's that image thing again.

He turned around more; not completely, but enough so he was able to get a good look at her while still leaning against railing.

The girl was... tiny, and with that kind of attitude? Not that Kiyama liked to judge, or that even he cared enough to do so, but this girl seemed to be pushing it. He didn't know where the bark stopped and bite began. But as tough as she acted and looked she was a girl and Kiyama figured that it was only right when there were punks like Akabane Reiji lurking around.

He took the cigarette from his lips and exhaled, a thin cloud of smoke veiling the she-yankee.

"You're obviously not from around here. But I would suggest that you be careful in your quest for 'normal yankees', if that's what you're trying to do."

[Watanabe Nanako]

Nanako watched the boy carefully for a moment after she had spoken, still in the position of leaning against the railings with her arms as she faced forwards. He barely moved or gave any indication that he had even heard her, and she pursed her lips again at the twinge of annoyance she felt at the fact that she might be being ignored. However, she was proven wrong.

“If I disappoint you, then rest assured that there are quite a few more…‘normal’ Yankees here. Maybe they’ll live up to your expectations,” the boy answered her after a moment, surprising her slightly. After the long pause, she hadn’t been expecting an answer. “I didn’t say that I wasn’t normally quiet either,” she said almost offhandedly, drawling her words slightly.

Despite the fact that she was the one that initiated this conversation, normally she didn’t make the effort to do so, and just stayed quiet whenever possible. Just speaking when necessary suited her fine. But there was that feeling again. This guy was different, there was no doubting that. Although, it irritated her…quite a bit.

Sighing, she looked past the boy so that her gaze landed on the sea again and pushed her irritation to the side for the moment. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the other yankee turning around slightly and looking in her direction. Although, she kept her eyes firmly fixed on the horizon.

“You’re obviously not from around here,” the boy started speaking again, and her gaze reluctantly flicked back to him. “But I would suggest that you be careful I your quest for ‘normal yankees’, if that’s what you’re trying to do.” As soon as the words left his lips, Nanako’s own lips down-turned into a frown as she slid her arms off of the railing behind her and crossed them over her chest again, her back still against the railing.

“Really?” she said, though it was more of a statement than a question, her tone one of slight annoyance. She couldn’t help but feel that perhaps he was just lumping her in the same category as most other girls. That she couldn’t take care of herself when it came to confronting Yankees. She had been laughed at before by other yankees she had come across both because of her sex and size, and even though the quiet boy across from her wasn’t laughing, he was making exactly the same judgement that everyone else did.

Deciding against saying anything else about the matter, she lifted her hand and took another drag from her cigarette. “So you got a name?” she asked. She knew the names of a few of the Yankees here at Karasumori, but she had yet to put the names to faces, and she was wondering exactly who this guy was.



((ooc - lolz @ writing this while listening to the Unubore Deka OST XD but it’s a bit…bleh =/ I apologise.))

[Kiyama Ryuichiro]

OOC: My, have I been sardonic in this thread... which has been making Kiyama quite sardonic. And now I'm having a day that's making me feel more sardonic than usual... I'm hoping it's not coming across that badly here; I can never tell. ^^;;

"Really?"

Kiyama raised an eyebrow. It was the way she said it... not like she didn't believe him, but like she didn't care to believe him.

At the word, Kiyama exhaled heavily, another cloud of smoke escaping his lips. It wasn't like he cared, either. If the girl wouldn't listen to him, he wouldn't involve himself... no matter who she was or what she happened to be. It wasn't like he didn't have enough on his plate as it was...

"So you got a name?"

Another rhetorical question? Of course he had a name. If he didn't, that'd be weird.

And then there was the fact that you don't give your name out unless you wanted to be remembered; not unless you wanted to have some kind of enduring relationship with someone. Kiyama didn't really want to talk to anyone in the first place, and certainly not give out his name. In fact, he suddenly felt a terrible urge to learn about the classics of Japanese literature and look at Kobayashi-sensei's stupid face as he explained archaic verb conjugations from feudal texts. Hell, he might even raise his hand and try answering a question for once.

Kiyama finally turned completely around and leaned against the railing to look over the girl once more, and had to consciously make an effort not to grimace. The half pint with the attitude and the combat boots? There was absolutely no way this chick wasn't dripping with trouble. No one came to the roof unless they wanted a hefty serving of it, and the girl's prodding definitely made it obvious that she wanted a taste of whatever Karasumori's delinquents had to dish out.

Kiyama didn't need any of that. He was on a diet.

But something tugged at him... his conscience, maybe? She had lent him the lighter...

Stopping himself from mumbling about obligations, he looked up to the girl. "Kiyama..." he trailed off. No one ever called him by his first name. Not since primary school, no one ever called him that besides his parents when they ventured speaking to him, and then back in junior high--

No, she didn't need to know his first name.

"...from homeroom 3-E," he finished. His eyes danced about for a second before he continued. "I'm guessing you have a name, too?"

It was only customary he ask her back, right? Kiyama may or may not be considered a yankee, but he definitely wasn't rude. Most of the time.

Kiyama looked down at the stub near-stump between his fingers; he could get one more really good drag out of rest of his cigarette. And he would relish it while the other girl's name would go into one of his ears and right out the other. Then he'd leave the roof, because he wasn't sure if there was room to fit with all the girl's attitude. He'd slip back into class, listen to what some old dead guys said, be berated by Wataru and at the end of the day he'd join the redhead and the others in some good old-fashioned fun between young men in tights...

Sounds like a plan, he thought to himself, as he placed the cigarette between his lips.

[Watanabe Nanako]

Nanako pursed her lips. There it was again, that feeling of intrigue. What exactly was it that made him so…what, mysterious? Intriguing? Different? Part of it came back to what she had said about him being quieter than the usual yankee, but there was also something else, she was sure. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, and it was beginning to irk her more and more with each passing moment.

The silence that greeted her question only perhaps made her irritation worse. Was he even going to answer her? Sure, he didn’t have to, and she could see why he wouldn’t, considering she herself probably wouldn’t give away her name so easily to just anyone that asked. That didn’t mean, however, that she would be any less annoyed at being ignored.

She didn’t want to start something, honestly she didn’t, but her temper was one thing that had yet to be tamed. She could retain her cool in a lot of situations, but being ignored, slandered, or something else along those lines, she couldn’t tolerate at all. Needless to say, it had been the cause of many of the fights she had been in. As a female yankee, she was often ignored or looked down on just because of her gender and height.

Nanako was slightly surprised when the boy turned completely around to face her. Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow as the boy’s gaze lingered on her. There was something in his expression… What was it? Before she could completely comprehend, however, he started speaking. "Kiyama..." he started, before trailing off and pausing for a second before continuing. "...from homeroom 3-E. I'm guessing you have a name, too?"

“Watanabe,” she said, one corner of her lips quirking upwards slightly as she in turn only gave her surname as he had done. “Homeroom 3-C.” Her answer was short and to the point, much like the other yankee’s answer had been. She was hardly about to relay any more information about herself than Kiyama had about himself, was she? Fair was fair, and if he wasn’t going to say his first name, she wasn’t going to say hers either. Truth be told though, she was amused more than anything else now.

Leaning off the railing finally, she took the last drag of her cigarette, the smallest of smiles still tugging at her lips, before she walked back over to where her bag was by the chairs. Shoving her lighter inside, she paused for a second, her hand stopping where it had been about to close the bag over. Her gaze flicked back over to Kiyama.

“Maybe not everyone in this school is hopeless, after all,” she said slowly, finally closing her bag over and clasping it, her gaze going back to what she was doing. Swinging her bag over her shoulder, she paused for a further second as she adjusted the strap. Turning and heading towards the door, Nanako only said one more thing. “See ya, Kiyama,” she said, a slightly sardonic tone in her voice as she gripped the door handle and pulled it open, vanishing out of sight a second later.



((ooc – so…I don’t like this post XD but that’s nothing new, is it? Anyway, as I said to you earlier… you can end it here with your next post haha))

[Kiyama Ryuichiro]

OOC: Dang this is a short post for me... anyhow, hoping this is alright!

Kiyama closed his eyes and inhaled that precious last drag. As he had been anticipating, the low voice of the girl came.

“Watanabe. Homeroom 3-C.”

And that was it.

For some reason, Kiyama had been expecting her to say more than he had. It made him wonder if she was usually this quiet or if she was getting the hint that he really didn't want to converse. Just a few minutes ago, he wondered if she would even speak at all, but at this point, he got the nagging suspicion that she wanted to keep talking to him. Did she want to get a rise out of him or something? At that thought, he wrinkled his nose.

But then, he saw her on the move again. She was headed back to her -- his -- chair, and stooped to pick up her schoolbag. For the briefest of moments, she looked up at Kiyama, with what he would swear was the slightest of smirks. “Maybe not everyone in this school is hopeless, after all.”

He watched as she shouldered the bag and move to make her exit. Yet, suddenly, she stopped. She spoke one last time last time, her voice carrying an air of sarcasm.

“See ya, Kiyama,” she called, right before she slipped through the fire escape door.

Then Kiyama was alone.

He turned around again to look out over the schoolyard on last time.

"Watanabe," he whispered, slowly, without really thinking about it. A bit disappointed the name had had stuck like that, he frowned. Kiyama genuinely hoped that this Watanabe girl wouldn't make a habit of coming out on the roof. And if she did, she'd learn to give him his space like the other yankees did. Five minutes for a smoke, a little quiet to get some reading done... Kiyama didn't think he asked for much.

At that thought, he went over the few things the girl had said...

If only she knew how hopeless he really was. Looking after the door, he wondered just how much the female delinquent knew about the yankee crew of Karasumori; the gang scene in the little town of Miura. Kiyama knew that there were still a few rumors about himself floating around, as much as he hoped and prayed they'd be put to rest someday soon... He truly was a hopeless case.

Then again, Watanabe seemed pretty hopeless herself.

It was a thought that made him smile. He didn't know why, but he opted to revel in that moment of amusement while he extinguished his cigarette butt on railing of the roof.

Kiyama spun around and began to move toward the door, stopping to toss the but in a pail being used on a trashbin. He looked up to the sky again, and noted the sun had sunk a bit lower in the direction of the sea. He'd catch the last few minutes of Kobayashi-sensei's lecture, and his day would go by like any other. If he had any luck, he wouldn't bump into the spunky little yankee girl anytime soon.

He sighed as he opened the door and stepped over the chained partition. If there was anything Kiyama Ryuichiro wasn't, it was lucky.

CLOSED