Warnings:BradSchu, Aya-bashing (quite literally), language (big surprise there)

Strangely, Ken found it kind of difficult to fear Ran at the level of what a normal person would. Despite the knowledge that his stoic redheaded roommate had an antique katana hidden beneath his mattress, and the fact that he had seen the redhead about to kill him with it in a dream before that. Though, he held up a guard around the redheaded Japanese man, though not because he was afriad of being sliced and diced by the well hidden katana.

On the contrary, as the brunett observed his new roommate, he began to much doubt that the redhead would have the the mental stamina required for taking the deaths of others into ones own hands. Perhaps it was that he was far too familiar with murderers, that he could so easily pick the redhead out. Though, he still kept a guard up around Ran, as he wasn't as much afraid of the man and his weapon, as he was afraid of some more illusive trait about the redhead.

So illusive, he couldn't even understand it, himself.

The brunett found himself drifting through another school day, carelessly, as he entered the art room for second period. He paused, though, at the doorway, taking a moment to examine the first object upon the wall upon entering the room. His painting -- or his "Blood Work", as the redheaded Irishman so liked to call it -- was hung up right in the dead centre of the wall for all to see.

Frowning slightly, the brunett turned away heading into the large art room...

...only to instantly regret it.

"Ken kun!" A loud squeal irrupted from a small freshman girl with dark hair. She giggled, bouncing across the room to glomp onto the brunett's arm in less than a moment, and stare up at her object of affection with bright starry eyes.

Unfortunately, the brunett moved just in time before her hands could touch him, and watched slightly amused as she crashed into the wall.

Not her again! Ken resisted the urge to roll his eyes and forcefully shove the girl out into the hallway and out of his art class.

"O! Isn't it wonderful!? I got switched into this class just to be with you!" She squealed, removing herself from the wall, "I thought that it must be awfully hard on you, not understanding English, so I joined a couple of your classes in order to help you out!" The dark haired girl giggled, attempting to drag Ken farther into the art room-- but again the brunett evaded her grasp. "It's going to be so great!"

Arg! What does she want from me?! The brunett frowned, hardly understanding anything she said-- as she rattled it all off in English.

Apparently there was no specific assignment today-- Farfarello was distracted by his blender (which contained a rather wretched looking substance), in the back of the room. He merely grunted at a box of charcoal at the beginning of class and went back to his... work. Many of the students were just sitting on their stools talking, while one or two actually took the time to draw things. Unfortunately, Ken found himself being unwillingly drawn into one of Fujimiya Aya's unwanted conversations.

"So," She began in her best Japanese, "How is your day?"

"Fine." Ken muttered quietly. He really didn't want to talk to this girl.

"Aa! Mine, too! One of my good friends, Andy, just told me he had the biggest crush on me, but I had to turn him down, you know? He's just not really my type. I think my oniichan would have liked him, though. O well, whatever. Then there was this other guy who was hitting on me in first period. He was so weird, though... But yea, my days been fight, despite that." She paused, "So... What class do you have next?"

"Lunch." The brunett found his gaze staring at a painting of a large white tree on a black background, on the far side of the wall. The white leaves were dripping with red.

Aya giggled, "Silly, that's not a class! Seriously, what do you have?"

"English."

"O...! They're tutoring you in English?" She cleared her throat slightly, causing the brunett to refocus his gaze on her-- where she wanted it.

„Hai."

"So... How do they do that? Like, who is your tutor?"

"Crawford."

"But... Crawford san doesn't speak Japanese. Who is your translator?"

"I have two."

"Aa! A whole three words. You were beginning to sound like my oniichan." She smiled brightly, "So, who are your translators?"

Ken paid the girl no real mind as he began to stare at the tree again, "Schuldig and Fujimiya Ran."

The girl paused for a moment, "O! So you do know my brother, already."

„Hai." He paused, wondering whether to mention that Ran was also his roommate or not. He quickly decided on the latter. She didn't need to know.

"Well..." The girl drifted off for another topic of discussion, "How about the dance?"

Ken blinked, refocusing his attention on the girl, "What dance?"

Aya feigned a shy shrugg and smiled, "The school dance. It's next saturday in honour of Christmas and New Years. You know, it is almost halfway through the school year, you know."

"What about it?" The brunett was getting the awful feeling that the girl wanted him to ask her a particular question. He did not want to ask it.

"Are you going?" She smiled.

„Iie." He responded quickly. There. That should stop her interrogation.

Her smile flickered for a moment, "Why not?"

"I have no desire to dance." He knew he must have sounded like a cold bastard at the moment (like Ran), but he was growing intolerant of the girl's mindless chatter.

"Well, you don't have to dance." She smiled, "You can just come to hang out."

"I don't want to 'hang out', either." He responded, softening his tone a bit. He didn't want to come across as mean; he just wanted her to shut up.

"Oh, but it'll be great! They're having it two weeks early because so many people are going home for the holidays." She smiled cheerfully, "And it's going to be for Christmas! Surely you can't--"

"I don't celebrate 'Christmas'." Ken stated simply.

The girl frowned, "O, well... That's okkei... I was just hoping that maybe you would be my date... I mean, we don't have to dance, if you don't want to. I would just really like to share the night with you, Ken kun." She leaned forward lightly.

Strange, I don't remember her being on a first name basis with me. He frowned, releasing a sigh, "You should go find yourself another date, Fujimiya san. I do not wish to attend. I am sorry."

The girl frowned, a sort of pout, but inderect. Her eyes grew larger as she looked at him and the brunett turned away. He would not let some girl's pathetic excuse for puppy-eyes get him into something so stupid as a school dance. It simply would not happen.

The girl continued to stare with her large dark eyes, until finally, the brunett gave up. "Fine, fine. I'll go to your dance with you." He suddenly felt sick.

The girl squealed rather loudly and glomped onto him roughly, "Yay! I just know we'll have such a great time together--"

"Au--! Get off!" Ken growled suddenly, giving a forceful shove to the girl who had somehow attached herself to his arm.

"O, Ken kun! I'm so happy you accepted!" She held on tighter to the arm of the suddenly violent brunett.

"GET OFF!!!" With a lot more force than was really necessary, Ken had shoved the girl off of his arm, where she stumbled back to land on the floor, her face becoming cloudy with confusion and sadness.

Twenty three eyes (11 students, 2 eyes each, 1 teacher, 1 eye each= you do the math) were staring, now, at the scene in the corner of the artroom. The gazes were all of either shock or anger; or in Farfarello's case, morbid amusement. A few boy got up from their stools to run over to the fallen girl and help her, many of them eying Ken angrily and beginning to yell loud things in English. Unfortunately, he knew all of the curses they were yelling.

Ken didn't notice a thing, though, as he stood by his stool with an angry look. He glanced up momentarily to see all of the faces that surrounded him, watching him with anger and resentment. And didn't care. Without hesitation, he lifted his bag onto his shoulder and left the classroom quickly, I don't need any fucking Art, anyway. Fuck her for fucking with me! I don't fucking care!

As he crossed the hall to exit the building, though, he haulted completely. He had just violently harmed Ran's sister. The stoic redhead was not going to be happy with him, when he found out. He bit his lip, his hand reaching up, suddenly, to tug on the small silver loop earring, thinking back to his classification of Ran earlier. Maybe he really will kill me for this...

The brunett found himself hiding in the dorms until third period, where he slowly made his way to his English lesson. Ran couldn't have found out, yet, could he? If he had, he was in for some real trouble.

The redhead was not in the room yet, when Ken began to open the door; though, before he could open it all the way, he paused, backing up to leave the door open only a crack. Just wide enough to see through.

He definately did not want to walk in on the scene that was going on behind that door.

"Someone... could walk in... on us... Schuldig..." The name was whispered as more of a moan than a warning. The message was barely understandable beneath deep, heavy, breaths.

The redheaded German moaned loudly, "That's what... makes it so... dangerous... Brad."

There was a grunt from the dark-haired man, as he pulled away suddenly, straightening his askew glasses, "No, Schuldig. Hidaka and Fujimiya should be here any moment now--"

"So?" The German reached forward, pulling the math teacher back by the tie, "Let them watch." He crushed his lips roughly against those of the older man, another deep kiss, tongues exploring, but only for a minute or two, before Crawford pulled back from the other man's mouth, his tie still captured by the other's teasing fingertips.

"Are you insane? If this gets out, I'll be fired, and you'll be expelled." The dark-haired man pulled away coldly, fixing his rumpled clothing, "Even if neither Fujimiya or Hidaka are ones to talk, this will not take place."

The German groaned in frustration and rolled his greeneyes, giving the older man a shove before jumping off of the desk to perch on the other side of the wooden piece of furniture, "Fine, then. Whatever you say, Bradley." He lifted himself on the other side of the desk, into a sitting position and sighed, watching the dark-haired math teacher straighten himself out, "I like you, Brad."

"You will address me as 'Crawford'." 'Crawford' glared, flipping open an English text book.

Ken blinked. He didn't understand anything that they were saying, but his understanding of the events taking place behind that door was very high. But wasn't Schuldig with that Youji guy? The brunett rolled his eyes, he was getting very confused about the German.

Realising that it would probably be safe to enter, the brunett opened the door, stepping into the classroom, avoiding eye-contact with either of the room's two occupants. He took his seat silently, and glanced up at Crawford, who greeted him, as usual.

"Good afternoon, Ken." He nodded, "How has your day been?"

"Hello, Crawford." He responded, quietly, "My day has been fine, and yours?"

"Well." He responded apathetically.

Finally, Ran stepped into the room, his expression the same as every other day-- nonexistant. He made his way liesurely to the front of the room where Crawford and Schuldig sat silently. He leaned against the desk's edge and lifted an elegant crimson eyebrow at the dark-haired teacher, in question.

Crawford nodded and began, Ran translating his words easily, "Get out your notes from yesterday, and we shall continue where we left off last lesson. We are going farther into the lesson of English nouns today."

Ran's face almost appeared bored as he repeated Crawford's words in Japanese and located a piece of chalk for the board.

Silently, the brunett rolled his eyes. He already knew a bit about the subject-- and he didn't want to copy the notes in Roomaji. Why couldn't they begin something useful? Like insults.

"Proper nouns are usually used for naming things. Such as days of the week, months of the year, people, countries, languages, etc--"

Ran paused, wondering how to write 'etc.' in Roomaji.

Ken suddenly raised his hand, questioning in Japanese to is translator, "Why would days and months be proper nouns? They are not..." The brunett looked for a reason to protest it but frowned. In Japanese months and days are not capitalised like they are in English and German. Though he had gotten a bit used to the idea with his German classes back in Japan, it was beginning to irk him that almost every other language considered such commonly used things as 'proper'.

The redhead gave him a narrow glance, "They just are."

Sighing, the brunett continued writing.

"Say, Brad..." The German nudged the dark-haired man, "Do you think they're really talking about the lesson?" Schuldig resisted a laugh.

Crawford sighed, "One track mind, Schuldig. One track mind."

"Proper nouns, when written, can be identified by their beginnings. All proper nouns begin with capital letters. Such as: Japan, Ken, and Monday. Though, these are not to be confused with the capitalised word at the beginning of the sentence. Sometimes a sentence may begin with a proper noun, but either way, the first letter of the first word, of a sentence is always capitalised. And I have been informed that this--" He gestured at Ran's neat writing upon the board, "--works along those same lines."

Translating the last part a bit skeptically, Ran continued to write with a near scowl.

"Common nouns are easier to understand, such as--" He held up another pencil, "--this. This 'pencil' is a noun."

It was translated blandly into Ken's ears when he paused, suddenly remembering something from the English textbook he had taken from the library, "But I thought that things that exist were referred to as 'objects'? Am I supposed to say, 'May I please see that noun?'"

Crawford caught the English parts of it and understood before Ran could translate, "Objects come later in a sentence, though 'objects' are also a generalisation of things that existed."

Ran translated.

"Then objects and nouns are the same thing?"

Translated.

"No! Object has two meanings."

Translated.

"Then one of the meanings is a 'noun', ne?"

Still Translating, Ran was wishing he had brought his katana to class.

"No. That is not what I meant!"

The redheaded Japanese man wanted to kick something. Why was he stuck in the middle of the stupidest conversation ever?

"Then what the fuck is an object!?"

Resisting a smirk, the redheaded Japanese man translated word-for-word. Not that the math teacher would care. Crawford was only there to get paid.

Crawford sighed, "We'll get to objects later. You're on a different context of the word 'object' and that is not a part of this lesson."

Again, translated.

"Common nouns refer to objects that are not entirely specific, excluding the usage of adjectives and adverbs-- which we will get to later. Common objects--er--'nouns' are all around you." Crawford thumped the desk with his hand, "'Desk' is a common noun." He stomped on the floor, "'Floor', when not being used as a verb--which we will also go over later--is a common noun. Though," He pointed to Ken, now, "'Boy' is a common noun, though 'Ken' is a proper noun. You are both."

After copying the notes and hearing the translation, Ken frowned. This makes no sense.

Schuldig rolled over on the desktop, growing restless, he glanced at Ken's puzzled expression, „All ist nicht klar Brad." [trans: "All is not clear."]

The American teacher merely folded his arms, having no idea what the German had just said, Why did they make me take Spanish is high school? He glanced at the man on the desk next to him, "Schuldig, why are you even in here?"

"You told me I had to stay at these lessons--"

"Well you're dismissed, now."

The German rolled his eyes, "Fine, then. I'll catch you later, Brad."

"Don't call me that." The math teacher growled, watching Schuldig leave.

The redhead turned at the door to give a broad wink before exiting the room.

The room was silent for a minute-- none of them were really the talking type, due to various reasons. Finally Crawford turned back to his pupil, gesturing for Ran to put the chalk down. "Your notes on nouns are complete-- I've been brief, but you'll understand the general idea soon enough. Your assignment is to be able to name all of the objects in the classroom by tomorrow." He handed Ken a handout; a picture of a classroom with all of the objects labeled.

There was a slight groan from the redhead who looked as stoic as ever, but was obviously displeased, as he translated. This class was going entirely too slow for his liking, and he had a feeling that this wasn't getting Ken anywhere. He didn't want to be stuck translating and answering questions about English for the rest of the school term.

He was going to have to do something about it.

When Ken arrived back at his dorm room after his fifth period maths class (he narrowly avoided Aya in fourth period and lunch), he paused before the front door to his room. It was not the fear of his earlier actions towards Aya that made him hesitate, though. Instead, his hesitation was caused by two small pieces of yellow paper.

They were post-it notes.

Upon the first, which was stuck in the dead centre of the door, was written, in bold black marker, "door."

Upon the second, which was placed upon the small brass handle was written, "door handle".

What is going on? He was reaching for the 'door handle' to let himself in when the door suddenly opened. Without a second's notice the redhead, already inside, grabbed Ken by the arm and swiftly pulled him through the door, as well.

Ken's reaction was immediate to the touch, and he felt himself growl with anger. With a hard fist, he roughly knocked the arm away and took a few large steps back, only stopping when he reached the door. He seemed to zone out for a moment as he leaned against the door, taking deep breaths to calm down.

The redhead turned his violet-eyed glare on the man leaning against the door with anger. He unconsciously rubbed the side of his arm where he had been hit, "What the fuck was that for? I know I wasn't gripping you hard enough to hurt you. What is your problem?"

Straightening himself from his position against the door, still a bit angry, the brunett spoke, "I don't like being touched." His voice was sharp and his tone was low, his brown eyes narrowed beneath his unruly mass of brown hair as he glared at the redhead.

Ran rolled his eyes, "Well it's not something I derive pleasure from, either, but you were standing at the damn door for almost ten minutes."

Despite the redhead's vicious attitude, Ken found himself calming down quickly, and he tossed his bag and the extra books he carried to the ground without a second glance as they scattered upon the floor in a fairly large sized pile.

The redhead felt his eye twitch.

Ken sighed as he threw himself down onto his bed to stare up at the 'ceiling'.

He felt a large frown cross his face as he read the yellow post-it note reading "ceiling", that was stuck to the... 'ceiling'.

"What is this?!" Ken pushed himself into a sitting position and glanced around the room. Post-it notes were everywhere. On the floor, on the walls, on the beds, the lamps, the desk, the objects on the desk, the pillows, the blankets, the window, the door, the closet, a pair of shoes, objects in the closet, the dressers, the light fixtures on the ceiling-- everywhere.

"I've labeled every object in this room. You are to memorize them and associate each word with the object. You have the sheet from your English lesson that labels all of the objects in the classroom? This is similar, except from more of a kinetic approach." The redhead spoke this all with a flat tone and blank expression.

"You actually did all this?" Ken stared at the redhead with something akin to incredulity. He rolled his eyes, suddenly, "And you want's to know what's -my- problem. Tch!"

Two violet eyes narrowed, "You better start now; you've got to know it all by tomorrow-- I've convinced Crawford to cover all of the objects 1 in the dorm room on the test, as well." Yes, indeed, he was going to get Ken very clear on English, as quickly as possible.

The brunett narrowed his eyes, "You have got to be kidding."

The redhead lifted an eyebrow.

"I hate you, Fujimiya san." He spoke flatly.

Ran gave him an apathetic glance and seated himself on his own bed, pulling out books to do his homework, and avoid conversation with the brunett for the rest of the evening.

It was after the sun went down that Ken felt secure in knowing every object labeled on the handout, and in the dorm room. Except for the shoes. What was up with labeling the shoes? Thinking that, though, caused him to remember their name as well.

The brunett frowned as he laid down upon his bed, facing the 'ceiling', and remembered earlier that day in Art class. Ran hadn't seemed particularly angry with him tonight. Maybe Aya hadn't told him? Though, why wouldn't she? Ran could easily beat him up for her. Why wouldn't she tell?

Quietly, the brunett turned his head to look at the redhead on the parallel bed at the opposite side of the room. The redhead was writing, as he had been for the past two hours, in a simple black book. He watched as the redhead's delicate hand guided the pen in writing across the pages of the book, the soft sound of the pen's tip against the paper could be heard softly in Ken's overattentive ears. That and the shallow breathing of the man who wrote with that pen.

He found his thoughts musing to themselves silently. He probably wrote English with the same elegant writing as he did Roomaji. That type of beautiful flourished writing that was almost impossible to read, but incredibly gorgeous to look at. It was too bad he didn't write with Kana or Kanji as his heritage would deem almost imperative-- it would probably be beautiful, every simple ballpoint pen stroke would become like chaligraphy beneath his hand. Even his hand was beautiful as he wrote whatever it is he filled that black book with.

Out of nowhere a thought flickered past his opened observing eyes.

Kase had hated writing.

The brunett found himself wanting to throw something suddenly. How was it that the man seemed to always appear in his thoughts? Even when the thoughts were completely irrelative to the subject at hand. It was like something was making him think of the man, and it was infuriating. Though, the thoughts only continued.

The brunett sighed, leaning into the doorframe from the office area to the den. "You wouldn't believe who just called, sir."

"Who?" Kase leaned against a palm, not even looking up at Ken, from his solitaire game on the computer.

"Take a wild guess." Ken's eyes hardened as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"...Them?" His voice was tired, and quiet.

"Very good, Kase. Now, can you guess what they wanted?" Ken felt his tone rising quickly.

"I'll be done with it by Friday."

"They want it tonight by 2300-- or you're out."

There was a grave silence as Kase's eyes widened considerably. "... They can't!"

"Yes, they can. Kritiker has never backed down on threat unless it was resolved." The brunett found himself turning to head back into the den.

"Ken..." The voice called, softly.

The brunett felt himself still. He hated how that man could so manipulate his body with that voice. He turned back to face the slightly troubled looking man behind the desk. Over the last single day he was beginning to hate that Kritiker had sent him to work with this guy-- to replace this man so there wouldn't be a hole in the wall when he was terminated.

"You know I'm no good at writing..." He started again, his normal tone breaking the spell.

"No, Kase. I'm not writing the damn report. That's your job, and this time it's your problem." He felt himself turning to leave again, but the voice came back.

"But you know how much I love you, Ken..."

Silence.

"I don't want to die, and leave you here all alone."

"Go ahead and die. There will be others." * This time the brunett did leave the room, but only to be followed.

"Really!?" The other man yelled suddenly, there was a high shriek of almost manical laughter, "You think that's the case? Who would love you Ken, other than me? You're a killer! A murderer! No one loves that! All you have is me! No one else would ever love you!"

Ken growled, "I am not the people I kill, Kase. Despite my actions, I am worthy of something, even if that is only death. I never asked to be loved, and I never asked to love anyone--"

"But you wanted it." The other man cut in.

The brunett fell silent for a moment, "Well... We can't always have everything we want."

"You have me, until eleven, Ken. Even longer if you'll just write it..." That voice again, pleading.

Heaving a heavy sigh, the brunett entered the office and began to type up the report on last night's mission. Maybe he was just desperate for something to hold onto? Something constant? Whatever the case, he didn't know why he chose Kase.

It had been his worst mistake.

To Be Continued...

1 When Ran and Ken use the word 'objects' or 'object' they are talking in Japanese, so it makes sense to Ken. If it were to be in these little marks: 'objects', instead of just written as: objects, then that would mean it was spoken in English, and Ken would be confused. Again. Even more so.

* Really marked for my own purposes. Will appear again later, though.