Why anyone still believed group projects were a good idea was beyond Shinjiro. Sure, there was the theory that it would help the students socialize and understand from their peers, the lacking students be motivated and encouraged by the more successful, and took pressure off the teachers. But it seemed to fail at taking into account what sheer, unmotivated assholes some people could be when they were guaranteed an 'A' based on someone else's determined, frantic work.
It also failed to take into account the unprecedented venom that could build up in the one being taken advantage of.
And all this is how Shinjiro ended up in the library, staring at the page of a book that might have been related to the topic at hand (something to do with... cell division? Or maybe that had been a few weeks ago. Like hell he remembered,) but there was no guarantee, between the impossibly small text, the scientific jargon, and the fucking discomfort and irritation at being forced to sit across one of the wooden tables from his research-project-partner and pretend that he was capable of being useful.
But hey: it shut the other man up.
And hell, maybe there wouldn't have been the sharp antagonism between them if Odagiri wasn't such a sudden reminder of home and Shinjiro's own ill-fitting, misplaced fortune of being at the academy. Or maybe that was more because the other kid was a dick. Glancing up at that slick-backed hair, before staring back down at the table, he decided it was probably the latter.
At least he didn't have to fuck around with speaking English at him.
Aragaki didn't even have the right book with him, Hidetoshi noticed with a scowl. Not that he expected much else from his classmate. Having to work with another student on a project like this was bad enough, that he had been assigned Aragaki of all people was even worse. The teacher already seemed to think Hidetoshi should have been making his lab partner do better work - as if he hadn't tried! - and now this. Really, if his grade wouldn't have been negatively impacted by Aragaki not at least pretending to pull his own weight he wouldn't have even bothered.
"You don't even remember what the project is about, do you."
He lifted his head enough to give Hidetoshi a flat look. At least there was no expectation there, so he could continue playing the part of the dumbass slacker without remorse or second-guessing. A shoulder rolled apathetically, and he pulled his arms back from the table to fold them, itching his arm absently.
"Guess not," He sport dryly. "Hell, I might not've even been there." No, he remembered being there: And he was sure if he cared enough about the class he would remember what they were looking up, but right now he was far more preoccupied with wondering when the mail would be coming in and what he had left in his fridge, what had likely been taken by a roommate, and what he could make with the rest. But that was probably far too much introspection to admit, and the assumption that he was worthless alleytrash wasn't one that he cared to amend anytime soon.
Hell, he kind of liked it.
"How 'bout you just tell me what to do. There'll be a lot less bitchin' when you don't like what I do, that way."
"No, you were there. Whether or not you were paying attention is another matter altogether."
Aragaki certainly hadn't looked like he was paying attention in class - nor did he seem to be paying much attention now. It was just his luck to be constantly paired with someone like him. Not that many of his fellow students ever seemed to be much better, always more concerned with school rumors and the like than with their duties. They really needed someone to show them the proper way. Putting aside his thoughts, Hidetoshi handed the other boy a short stack of books on the proper subject.
"Go through these and mark off anything that might be useful - we're giving a presentation on syphilis. There's an instruction sheet with the topics we're supposed to cover."
Knowing Aragaki he'd probably lost his, so he'd added a copy of the instructions to the stack.
MY TEN DAYS BEATS YOUR ELEVEN. /o/.ruineaxtSeptember 21 2011, 17:09:32 UTC
"...And why the hell did you pick this for our topic?" he picked up a book and wrinkled a nose at it. Goddamnit, had he really been dragged down here to sort through books rife with pictures of someone's infected junk? His eyes flickered to the ever-growing stack.
Really, at least half of his lack of productivity here was to get under the other man's skin. He was perfectly capable of understanding and remembering, but fuck if it wasn't easier to go with the assumptions Hidetoshi had about him. He flipped a page and rolled a shoulder. "Now when you say 'might be useful', that's kinda broad."
Dark eyes flickered back to Hidetoshi's, words remaining just as casual and careless, but this time speaking pointedly. "Really depends on what you're trying to get across. If it's just info, then we probably don't need fifteen sources if one's got all the basics." And with that he gestured to the stack of books given.
"Maybe you ain't being as efficient as you could be."
"I didn't pick it, it was assigned," he pointed out, managing not to make a face himself. An assignment was an assignment, but he couldn't help agreeing with the sentiment, loathe as he was to be in agreement on the subject of anything school related with Aragaki.
"Still, I can't say that I disagree with you on that score. However, the directions specify using at least five different sources. Considering the nature of the topic it is a waste of time, but there's little we can do about that." He'd chosen more sources than the number they'd need in the end in case too much of the information was duplicated, but he didn't see the point in justifying himself to Aragaki. If he couldn't understand that on his own, there was no use in spelling it out for him.
"Five sources for a rash on your junk, huh." Yep, his tone clearly indicated how many fucks he gave about reading up on syphilitic symptoms from all these books. He finally dragged one over and arbitrarily flipped to a page of text, glancing down and reading a line monotonously.
"De Lairesse, himself a painter and art theorist, suffered from congenital syphilis that severely deformed his face and eventually blinded him."
And the book was flipped closed. "Sounds like a source to me, One out of five, your turn." Again, arms folded on the table as he glanced to Hidetoshi. "This minimum source thing seems like a load've bullshit to me. I get them wanting to make sure we ain't just making shit up, but it's like they're handing us an excuse to copy the whole damn thing out've books and get credit for it.
"Historical information counts, yes. I'd suggest you write down where you got that from so we can find it again later." Hidetoshi kept his facial expression under control, if barely. Aragaki was so irritating sometimes. Or more than sometimes, really.
"There's little enough to this assignment aside from merely synthesizing the information we can find in the first place. I presume the teacher wanted us to at least not copy from a single source. It would be learning bad habits." Frustrating to be sure and certainly a waste of time for students who already understood the basic principles of such things, but also true.
He flipped to the index of the next book in the stack wordlessly, picking a page that seemed likely to contain the basic information they needed. Sooner started, sooner done, and Aragaki was certainly not making the process any easier.
It also failed to take into account the unprecedented venom that could build up in the one being taken advantage of.
And all this is how Shinjiro ended up in the library, staring at the page of a book that might have been related to the topic at hand (something to do with... cell division? Or maybe that had been a few weeks ago. Like hell he remembered,) but there was no guarantee, between the impossibly small text, the scientific jargon, and the fucking discomfort and irritation at being forced to sit across one of the wooden tables from his research-project-partner and pretend that he was capable of being useful.
But hey: it shut the other man up.
And hell, maybe there wouldn't have been the sharp antagonism between them if Odagiri wasn't such a sudden reminder of home and Shinjiro's own ill-fitting, misplaced fortune of being at the academy. Or maybe that was more because the other kid was a dick. Glancing up at that slick-backed hair, before staring back down at the table, he decided it was probably the latter.
At least he didn't have to fuck around with speaking English at him.
"So the hell's the point of this."
Reply
"You don't even remember what the project is about, do you."
It wasn't even a question, really.
Reply
"Guess not," He sport dryly. "Hell, I might not've even been there." No, he remembered being there: And he was sure if he cared enough about the class he would remember what they were looking up, but right now he was far more preoccupied with wondering when the mail would be coming in and what he had left in his fridge, what had likely been taken by a roommate, and what he could make with the rest. But that was probably far too much introspection to admit, and the assumption that he was worthless alleytrash wasn't one that he cared to amend anytime soon.
Hell, he kind of liked it.
"How 'bout you just tell me what to do. There'll be a lot less bitchin' when you don't like what I do, that way."
Reply
Aragaki certainly hadn't looked like he was paying attention in class - nor did he seem to be paying much attention now. It was just his luck to be constantly paired with someone like him. Not that many of his fellow students ever seemed to be much better, always more concerned with school rumors and the like than with their duties. They really needed someone to show them the proper way. Putting aside his thoughts, Hidetoshi handed the other boy a short stack of books on the proper subject.
"Go through these and mark off anything that might be useful - we're giving a presentation on syphilis. There's an instruction sheet with the topics we're supposed to cover."
Knowing Aragaki he'd probably lost his, so he'd added a copy of the instructions to the stack.
Reply
Really, at least half of his lack of productivity here was to get under the other man's skin. He was perfectly capable of understanding and remembering, but fuck if it wasn't easier to go with the assumptions Hidetoshi had about him. He flipped a page and rolled a shoulder. "Now when you say 'might be useful', that's kinda broad."
Dark eyes flickered back to Hidetoshi's, words remaining just as casual and careless, but this time speaking pointedly. "Really depends on what you're trying to get across. If it's just info, then we probably don't need fifteen sources if one's got all the basics." And with that he gestured to the stack of books given.
"Maybe you ain't being as efficient as you could be."
Reply
"Still, I can't say that I disagree with you on that score. However, the directions specify using at least five different sources. Considering the nature of the topic it is a waste of time, but there's little we can do about that." He'd chosen more sources than the number they'd need in the end in case too much of the information was duplicated, but he didn't see the point in justifying himself to Aragaki. If he couldn't understand that on his own, there was no use in spelling it out for him.
Reply
"De Lairesse, himself a painter and art theorist, suffered from congenital syphilis that severely deformed his face and eventually blinded him."
And the book was flipped closed. "Sounds like a source to me, One out of five, your turn." Again, arms folded on the table as he glanced to Hidetoshi. "This minimum source thing seems like a load've bullshit to me. I get them wanting to make sure we ain't just making shit up, but it's like they're handing us an excuse to copy the whole damn thing out've books and get credit for it.
Reply
"There's little enough to this assignment aside from merely synthesizing the information we can find in the first place. I presume the teacher wanted us to at least not copy from a single source. It would be learning bad habits." Frustrating to be sure and certainly a waste of time for students who already understood the basic principles of such things, but also true.
He flipped to the index of the next book in the stack wordlessly, picking a page that seemed likely to contain the basic information they needed. Sooner started, sooner done, and Aragaki was certainly not making the process any easier.
Reply
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