[FIC] Colors of Paradise
Author: bar_ohki
Title: Colors of Paradise
Rating: T because of Hiruma’s language choices.
Summary: A Hiruma musing about Mamori.
Pairings: Implied attraction between Hiruma and Mamori, nothing serious.
Notes: This would be… my fourth attempt at writing first person, bare with me please. The musical ‘Spitfire Grill’ does actually exist, my high school put it on. But since it’s an obscure play, I’ll refrain from making any references beyond the name of the song and a handful of lyrics.
_=_=_=_=_=_
The one teacher in the whole fucking school, no, the whole fucking world, that couldn’t be blackmailed! This bitch is so simple that all she ever fucking did was become a high school music teacher.
“Now today we have a special treat!” Whatsherface-sensei announced in a tone that was clearly designed for kindergarteners. Tch. She has issues in drawing conclusions; the entire room is filled with people taller than her! God dammit! This woman is more dense than fucking fatty!
Her treat is probably some form of unseen torture, or just plain stupidity.
“I got copies of the music from the very famous play: Spitfire Grill!” It’s stupid today, no one in the fucking class has even heard of the damn play. Hell, I don’t even know that one!
And that’s saying something.
“We’ll be practicing ‘Colors of Paradise’ today!” I’ll just ignore her.
“Youichi-kun, could you be a dear and pass out the music for me?” Damn.
I wonder how much trouble I’d be in if I burned all the music right now. The rest of the administration here lives in mortal fear of me, I doubt it’d be anything worth mentioning….
Fucking manager is giving me a look. So, much for that idea, her lectures are more trouble than their worth. Always taking time from practice to try and discipline me in front of everyone, fucking manager.
“Anezaki-chan, could you please start?”
As long as I don’t have to sing, I can think of other things. Like how the hell I’m going to get this fucking teacher fired, ah, that would be a very wonderful thing….
“…Did you ever want to lose yourself and wander where you please?” Mamori’s voice is too loud to think around.
It can’t be helped, she’s too good at projecting. Judging by that look, she’s trying to get under my skin again. I glare at her. I don’t really want to be sang at by anyone, especially her.
“…and the colors of paradise come! And the colors of paradise come to you.” She’s got a pretty good deal going for her. Brown hair, exotic but not unpleasant nor unheard of luxury around here. Blue eyes, most boys are obsessed with them. And a nice set of pink lips, good for kissing.
Her past boyfriends were very lucrative sources for information on her….
I suppose she is an embracement of those ‘colors of paradise’, at least in human form.
I’ll just fuck with her head by staring at her like she’s a sex object, that’ll get her to miss a note.
Yup, it did.
Remarkable. I actually had one bit of fun in this damn class.
~Omake~ (third person)
Mamori stormed after Hiruma, the yet to be spoken demand about his behavior was on the edge of her tongue.
Hiruma turned around and gave her one of his infamous shit-eating grins.
“Fucking manager, you match that song rather nicely when you blush.” Hiruma informed her, his grin never dropping. “Isn’t great that I got it on camera?”
“Hiruma-kun!” Mamori roared in protest.
_=_=_=_=_=_
This is a direct strike at all the evil music teachers I had growing up, I admit it.
Here’s a link to the lyrics of the song that I transcribed (its mostly accurate): bar-ohki.livejournal.com/1694.html
Title: Colors of Paradise
Rating: T because of Hiruma’s language choices.
Summary: A Hiruma musing about Mamori.
Pairings: Implied attraction between Hiruma and Mamori, nothing serious.
Notes: This would be… my fourth attempt at writing first person, bare with me please. The musical ‘Spitfire Grill’ does actually exist, my high school put it on. But since it’s an obscure play, I’ll refrain from making any references beyond the name of the song and a handful of lyrics.
_=_=_=_=_=_
The one teacher in the whole fucking school, no, the whole fucking world, that couldn’t be blackmailed! This bitch is so simple that all she ever fucking did was become a high school music teacher.
“Now today we have a special treat!” Whatsherface-sensei announced in a tone that was clearly designed for kindergarteners. Tch. She has issues in drawing conclusions; the entire room is filled with people taller than her! God dammit! This woman is more dense than fucking fatty!
Her treat is probably some form of unseen torture, or just plain stupidity.
“I got copies of the music from the very famous play: Spitfire Grill!” It’s stupid today, no one in the fucking class has even heard of the damn play. Hell, I don’t even know that one!
And that’s saying something.
“We’ll be practicing ‘Colors of Paradise’ today!” I’ll just ignore her.
“Youichi-kun, could you be a dear and pass out the music for me?” Damn.
I wonder how much trouble I’d be in if I burned all the music right now. The rest of the administration here lives in mortal fear of me, I doubt it’d be anything worth mentioning….
Fucking manager is giving me a look. So, much for that idea, her lectures are more trouble than their worth. Always taking time from practice to try and discipline me in front of everyone, fucking manager.
“Anezaki-chan, could you please start?”
As long as I don’t have to sing, I can think of other things. Like how the hell I’m going to get this fucking teacher fired, ah, that would be a very wonderful thing….
“…Did you ever want to lose yourself and wander where you please?” Mamori’s voice is too loud to think around.
It can’t be helped, she’s too good at projecting. Judging by that look, she’s trying to get under my skin again. I glare at her. I don’t really want to be sang at by anyone, especially her.
“…and the colors of paradise come! And the colors of paradise come to you.” She’s got a pretty good deal going for her. Brown hair, exotic but not unpleasant nor unheard of luxury around here. Blue eyes, most boys are obsessed with them. And a nice set of pink lips, good for kissing.
Her past boyfriends were very lucrative sources for information on her….
I suppose she is an embracement of those ‘colors of paradise’, at least in human form.
I’ll just fuck with her head by staring at her like she’s a sex object, that’ll get her to miss a note.
Yup, it did.
Remarkable. I actually had one bit of fun in this damn class.
~Omake~ (third person)
Mamori stormed after Hiruma, the yet to be spoken demand about his behavior was on the edge of her tongue.
Hiruma turned around and gave her one of his infamous shit-eating grins.
“Fucking manager, you match that song rather nicely when you blush.” Hiruma informed her, his grin never dropping. “Isn’t great that I got it on camera?”
“Hiruma-kun!” Mamori roared in protest.
_=_=_=_=_=_
This is a direct strike at all the evil music teachers I had growing up, I admit it.
Here’s a link to the lyrics of the song that I transcribed (its mostly accurate): bar-ohki.livejournal.com/1694.html