running with scissors
was looking for something to post that was not retarded and/or tegomass-related, and it was either this or some shun/maki hurt-comfort fic. uhm...yeah.
this was supposed to be a prequel to that shige tries to take over je thing i wrote oh-so-long-ago that i always meant to finish, but clearly never did. so.
Shige's first encounter with them was in third grade. The teacher decided to decorate the classroom in snowflakes and had handed them each a clean white sheet of paper and a pair of scissors. They were instructed to fold the paper in half four times and then cut out different shapes at every angle and when they were finished, they would each have their very own beautiful snowflake to hang on the back wall of the classroom. Thrilled that they were taking a break from work, Shige decided he would try his very best and make the prettiest snowflake ever.
"They say no two snowflakes look alike," a boy in his class later told him, "but yours just looks like garbage."
Shige punched him shortly after that. With his left hand. And it felt damn good.
Needless to say, Shige had begun to avoid the awful device known as the scissor. It's not like he had much of a need to ever use them anyway, if he needed something cut he could just use a boxcutter. And it had worked for the most part; no one knew of Shige's left handed disability. That is, until Koyama Keiichirou came along.
"Shige, help me cut out these letters, would you?" Koyama asks as Shige enters the room, bag slung over his shoulder and headphones on.
"Hm?"
"Letters," Koyama repeats, gesturing to the pile of multicolored construction paper littering the table. Shige shuffles over to the table and thumbs through them, there are English letters stenciled onto each one, spelling out "WELCOME BACK NE". And judging by the 'S' already laid out on a white banner and the 'U' Koyama is carefully cutting out, it wouldn't take a genius to know what the banner was supposed to spell. Even though Shige is kind of a genius anyway.
"Hurry, will you?"
"Oh, erm, why don't you ask Tegoshi? He likes, uhm, colors." Shige stutters, eying the extra pair of scissors lying ever so innocently on the table. Koyama gives him an odd look as he starts on the 'E.'
"Well as much as Tegoshi likes--colors, he can't help. He already left with Massu, Yamapi, and Ryo to get food and drinks."
Shige is about to ask whose wise idea it was to send Massu and Yamapi on a food errand and just how many people were needed to carry back food when he pauses, realizing the answer on his own.
"Fine," Shige says resignedly, "is there a box cutter around here?"
Koyama gives him another odd look, "Just use the scissors there. It's easier."
Shige gulps and bites his lip before taking up the scissor. Minutes later, there is a loud rip and a strangled guttural noise that reminds Koyama of utter failure.
"Shige," he says thoughtfully, looking over at the younger male. Shige can't meet his gaze. Won't.
"Can you--not use scissors properly?" he finally asks. Shige twitches a little, and the smile grows on Koyama's lips.
"Oh my god!" Koyama shrieks in utter delight and amusement. "And here I thought all lefties were supposed to be geniuses! But I guess you can't be good at everything, ne Shige."
Months later Shige will write a sensational Myojo essay about the trials and tribulations about being left handed that will have all the fangirls saying, "kya!" and leave all the left handed people in the world--that could read Japanese or happened to frequent a scary underground culture of obsessive JE fans that translated all their works into English--vindicated. For now Shige does what any genius in his situation would do; he punches Koyama. With his left hand. And it still feels so damn good.
.
.
.
Shige stares at the scissor sitting on the table, mocking him with it's orange plastic coating. He twitches.
Shige tackles the scissor.
.
.
.
"Hey, aren't you that guy from NewS?" the cashier at the convenience store asks. "I didn't know you were left handed. I am too!"
Shige tries to smile, but even the genius at fake smiles needs a break or two. He nods instead.
"Ikuta Toma right? Can I have your autograph?"
Shige snatches the bag out of the cashier's hand and storms out of the shop. The last thing NewS needs right now is another front page scandal about punching out cashiers. Although it might not affect NewS at all, really. Just Ikuta Toma.
.
.
.
Shige cackles manically. throwing his arms into the air and snipping victoriously. There is a moment of silence as thick strands of black fall onto the table in front of him.
"Hey Shige, good--uwah! What happened to your hair?!" Koyama asks, staring wide eyed at Shige's new faux mohawk.
"I needed a change," Shige says simply, taking his make up out of his bag.
Shige doesn't carry a scissor around, anymore.
this was supposed to be a prequel to that shige tries to take over je thing i wrote oh-so-long-ago that i always meant to finish, but clearly never did. so.
Shige's first encounter with them was in third grade. The teacher decided to decorate the classroom in snowflakes and had handed them each a clean white sheet of paper and a pair of scissors. They were instructed to fold the paper in half four times and then cut out different shapes at every angle and when they were finished, they would each have their very own beautiful snowflake to hang on the back wall of the classroom. Thrilled that they were taking a break from work, Shige decided he would try his very best and make the prettiest snowflake ever.
"They say no two snowflakes look alike," a boy in his class later told him, "but yours just looks like garbage."
Shige punched him shortly after that. With his left hand. And it felt damn good.
Needless to say, Shige had begun to avoid the awful device known as the scissor. It's not like he had much of a need to ever use them anyway, if he needed something cut he could just use a boxcutter. And it had worked for the most part; no one knew of Shige's left handed disability. That is, until Koyama Keiichirou came along.
"Shige, help me cut out these letters, would you?" Koyama asks as Shige enters the room, bag slung over his shoulder and headphones on.
"Hm?"
"Letters," Koyama repeats, gesturing to the pile of multicolored construction paper littering the table. Shige shuffles over to the table and thumbs through them, there are English letters stenciled onto each one, spelling out "WELCOME BACK NE". And judging by the 'S' already laid out on a white banner and the 'U' Koyama is carefully cutting out, it wouldn't take a genius to know what the banner was supposed to spell. Even though Shige is kind of a genius anyway.
"Hurry, will you?"
"Oh, erm, why don't you ask Tegoshi? He likes, uhm, colors." Shige stutters, eying the extra pair of scissors lying ever so innocently on the table. Koyama gives him an odd look as he starts on the 'E.'
"Well as much as Tegoshi likes--colors, he can't help. He already left with Massu, Yamapi, and Ryo to get food and drinks."
Shige is about to ask whose wise idea it was to send Massu and Yamapi on a food errand and just how many people were needed to carry back food when he pauses, realizing the answer on his own.
"Fine," Shige says resignedly, "is there a box cutter around here?"
Koyama gives him another odd look, "Just use the scissors there. It's easier."
Shige gulps and bites his lip before taking up the scissor. Minutes later, there is a loud rip and a strangled guttural noise that reminds Koyama of utter failure.
"Shige," he says thoughtfully, looking over at the younger male. Shige can't meet his gaze. Won't.
"Can you--not use scissors properly?" he finally asks. Shige twitches a little, and the smile grows on Koyama's lips.
"Oh my god!" Koyama shrieks in utter delight and amusement. "And here I thought all lefties were supposed to be geniuses! But I guess you can't be good at everything, ne Shige."
Months later Shige will write a sensational Myojo essay about the trials and tribulations about being left handed that will have all the fangirls saying, "kya!" and leave all the left handed people in the world--that could read Japanese or happened to frequent a scary underground culture of obsessive JE fans that translated all their works into English--vindicated. For now Shige does what any genius in his situation would do; he punches Koyama. With his left hand. And it still feels so damn good.
.
.
.
Shige stares at the scissor sitting on the table, mocking him with it's orange plastic coating. He twitches.
Shige tackles the scissor.
.
.
.
"Hey, aren't you that guy from NewS?" the cashier at the convenience store asks. "I didn't know you were left handed. I am too!"
Shige tries to smile, but even the genius at fake smiles needs a break or two. He nods instead.
"Ikuta Toma right? Can I have your autograph?"
Shige snatches the bag out of the cashier's hand and storms out of the shop. The last thing NewS needs right now is another front page scandal about punching out cashiers. Although it might not affect NewS at all, really. Just Ikuta Toma.
.
.
.
Shige cackles manically. throwing his arms into the air and snipping victoriously. There is a moment of silence as thick strands of black fall onto the table in front of him.
"Hey Shige, good--uwah! What happened to your hair?!" Koyama asks, staring wide eyed at Shige's new faux mohawk.
"I needed a change," Shige says simply, taking his make up out of his bag.
Shige doesn't carry a scissor around, anymore.