WAHAHAHAHAHA! You know you love cliffhangers as much as I do! OK, maybe not
as much as me. 'Cause my love is almost obscene. It's X-rated, I swear. Me and
cliffhangers....mmmm boy....
And on THAT attractive note.....
slr_europa@yahoo.com
http://www.geocities.com/slr_europa/
AIM :: SeeShelliRun
*****************************************
Teachers Pet 2/?
By Sailor Europa
"Wow."
Usagi cringed and turned around in her seat just as she had moments before and
gaped openly at her friend. Naru, at this point, was staring blatantly at the backside of
their tall, dark and handsome teacher who was scrawling his name on the board in large
kanji. Usagi exhaled shortly, miffed that she could only recognize one of the characters
yet upset even more that she didn't *need* to understand them to know what they said.
'Chiba Mamoru'….The bane of her existence, she thought ruefully. He was only 21!
How in the world did he manage to wrangle a job as a substitute? And why did it have to
be, of all places, in her classroom? She'd gladly take Haruna-sensei back in exchange for
Mamoru-baka…..
"When I call your name, please raise your hand." A genuine smile graced
Mamoru's handsome features, the first real time all morning, and a few more swoons
could be heard. Usagi groaned inwardly. Oh, if they only *knew*, she mused silently.
"It'll take me a while to get used to your names, so please be patient."
"Takahashi Miyo."
Stifled giggles were hardly suppressed as a high pitched voice called out "Hai."
"Suzuki Tomoyo."
"Present!" More giggles. Usagi sank lower in her seat, growling under her breath,
wondering how this great day had turned to sour in the blink of an eye.
"Mirami Astushi."
"Hai."
"Tsukino Usa -." Everyone paused soundlessly for a second as their new-found
treasure's eyes virtually popped out of his head and rolled onto the sheet in front of him.
His head snapped upwards and he scanned the room. Sure enough, two odango's popped
out obtrusively from the lowered head of one Tsukino Usagi. A smirk slid its way onto
his face and he shook his head. "Tsukino Usagi." He stated matter-of-factly, not even
bothering to let her reply. She eyed him viciously as he continued calling names. He was
going to have the interrogation of a lifetime when the lunch bell rang.
*****
"This is so UNFAIR!"
"Oh, Usagi, stop being so melodramatic! It could be worse." Ami consoled,
patting her friend back sympathetically as she picked at her lunch in front of her. Two
blonde pig-tails sat precariously around the two females, grazing the grassy knoll that
they had picked that afternoon for the lunch hour.
"He already invades my afternoon hang-out. Not to mention dated one of my best
friends a few times!" She threw her arms in the air, and the scowled in the direction of
the imposing school building to her left. "Now I'll have to see him 8 hours a day, for a
full six weeks? How much worse can it get?" She glared at Ami, and the short haired girl
just shrugged.
"I don't think Mamoru-san will be quite so callous as to poke fun at you during
class. He's a mature adult Usagi, and I'll bet he handles the situation fine." She answered,
taking a bite of her rice balls and then looking pointedly at her friend. "If he can, so can
you."
"Did you notice how all the girls practically fell over in puddles of drool when he
walked in?" She crossed her arms defiantly, as if to prove how differently she felt. "You
wanna talk about immature…."
"Oh, I don't know. He's good looking enough. I can understand it." Ami
shrugged absently and continued to eat. Usagi's wide eyes tried to take in the calm sight
before her, and she stuttered aimlessly.
"Are you kidding me? Mamoru-san?"
"Don't tell me you don't agree, Usagi." Ami chided, giggling a bit. "I know you
well enough to know your hormone patterns. You can not possibly tell me you don't find
him attractive."
Usagi paused for a moment, decidedly contemplating the idea. OK, so he was
KIND OF cute. Nothing to get worked up over, she quickly added to herself. He looked
like a million other Abercrombie & Fitch model-esque guys on this planet! Although, her
mind conceded, when he had entered the room in that extremely well-fitting suit and the
wire-rim glasses, it wasn't hard to picture him as crush material. That is, if he were
anyone but her tormentor and arch-nemesis by nature, Chiba Mamoru.
"Weeeell…." She started and Ami cut her off happily.
"Exactly! If you weren't always blinded by rage over him, you might notice such
things." Ami chuckled good naturedly. Usagi scowled openly at the remark and huffed,
crossing her arms once again.
"Doesn't mean I'm plastering my locker with pictures of the ego-maniac though!
He's made fun of me too much over the years to just forgive and forget, simply because I
admit he's handsome!" She countered angrily.
"Well, he does seem to pick on you more than most, I will say that." Her friend
added thoughtfully, finally closing up her lunch box and crossing her legs to stretch. She
let a small laugh escape as a thought popped into her mind. "It will be interesting to see
how long he can refrain from calling you 'Odango Atama' in this duration…."
"I'll make sure to stick those pieces of chalk in a place he'll *never* find them if
he does…."
*****
"OK class, Haruna-sensei has left word of what homework you are to turn in
today, so," Mamoru flipped thoughtfully through the well-organized lesson plan that the
injured teacher had sent to him during lunch until he landed on the items that were due.
"If you could all pass in pages 321-324, we can move onto today's English lesson."
A series of groans were heard, and Mamoru chuckled under his breath at the
sound he knew all too well. He retrieved each of the assignments from the students
individually, walking up and down the aisles. He caught a few shy smiles and a bevy of
delighted giggles from the female population as he did so, and he instantly wondered why
he had been so shaken about this job to begin with. Things were going perfectly and he
was starting to see why someone would strive to become a teacher. These kids were
looking at him like he walked on water.
His eyes caught on one sinking form that was slowly descending further and
further in her seat; blonde pigtails just centimeters from touching the floor beneath her
feet. Once again, for at least the fifth time that day, a grand smirk tugged at the sides of
his mouth, and he sauntered up behind her as quietly as possible. The back of her head
was completely still, and he studied the impossibly straight part in her hair that lead up to
those two infamous dumplings. Folding his arms as best he could without rumpling his
already collected papers, he cleared his throat. The female-in-question jumped a mile,
and then slowly turned around to shoot him the iciest glare she could manage.
"Tsukino-san?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Her lips pursed into a line and he
stifled a chuckle, cocking his head to the side. "Am I to assume you don't have today's
assignment completed?" Not that he even need inquire; the two of them stared each other
down for a moment, baffling the other students as the silent war raged on for seconds on
end. Questions rolled between the other people in the room, and more than one person
recognized the intimate glare the two shared. There was definitely some secret that was
not being verbalized among the two.
"Hai." Usagi mumbled through clenched teeth. Her victor's face lit up openly,
obviously pleased with her answer. Her calm, steady face was growing redder with each
second the clock ticked off, and every eye in the room watched as the older man just
walked past her, respectful enough to not scold her in such a new environment; her
environment. Across the room, a concerned friend was knitting her brow in worry. This is
not good, she thought. Perhaps she had been wrong about the two of them being civil. It
had never worked before; what made her think it would work now?
The intensity that hung in the stuffy classroom seemed to dissipate as the silence
was broken with Chiba-sensei approaching the board and scrawling the reading that was
to be done tomorrow, and corresponding questions. With an obviously condescending
look, he stated that he hoped that more of them would have the work done; he hated to
have to be harsh with the students who repeatedly slacked off. And it didn't go
completely unnoticed when he caught the steady, hot glare of the still-perturbed blonde in
the middle row as he spoke. He was directing the comment at one in particular; and she
didn't like it one bit.
*****
"I retract every un-mean thing I ever said to that first class jerk!"
Both Naru and Ami exchanged glances as a blonde whir brushed past them out of
the classroom, just seconds after the final bell had rung. They trotted swiftly towards the
retreating form of their friend and each snagged a shoulder, pulling her backwards. Usagi
tightly clamped her arms at her sides, practically shaking with fury and staring a deadly
gaze towards the beckoning double doors just 50 feet in front of her.
"I'm not going to survive 6 weeks with him!" She pointed a falsely accusing
finger at Ami and backtracked. "No, wait – HE won't survive! I will kill him, so help me,
I will KILL HIM!"
"Usagi, calm down!" Ami ordered, grabbing both of her shoulders and standing
directly in her eye-line. "If you let him get under your skin, then you're going to snap!"
"This is only the first day, Usagi." Naru added, jumping beside Ami. Usagi's
expression changed instantly, and she rolled her head back.
"Thanks for reminding me!"
"No, that's not what I meant!" Naru sighed and corrected herself. "Things could
get better. You never know."
"Usagi, he was probably just as shocked as you were when he saw you. Don't be
so rash." Ami reasoned, although, at the moment, even she wasn't completely convinced.
She had never actually exchanged any words with Mamoru, but from what she knew of
him, she couldn't believe he would be so callous in such a situation. A teacher was
supposed to be impartial, but Mamoru's actions had been anything but this afternoon.
However, Ami watched her best friend turn multiple shades of purple, and she vowed to
keep her mouth shut; giving Usagi a reason to dislike Mamoru wouldn't help matters,
especially now that the two would be seeing more of each other the next couple weeks.
"Ami….You've seen the way he treats me!" She exhaled sharply.
"I know, but it doesn't necessarily mean that he's trying to be so upsetting." She
responded softer, hoping to bring her friends nerves down a notch. Usagi just stopped and
looked her friend straight on.
"What else could it mean?" She asked skeptically. Ami sighed and shrugged.
"He's not a very open person; you know that. He could be trying to keep people
from getting to know him."
"Mou, Ami-chan! Don't try and tell me that high and mighty Chiba Mamoru is
pulling the ol' reverse psychology trick on me." Usagi practically laughed hysterically;
sometimes, she thought, her friends' psychological explanations overlooked the obvious
– Mamoru was just a flat-out mean hearted person.
"Usagi, you're an easy person to openly trust; he could sense that in some way
and then in turn go to extra lengths to make sure he stays at bay." Ami expounded. Usagi
gaped openly and shook her head. She appeared thoughtful for a moment, digesting the
information until Ami hastily added, "There could be a part of him that really wants to
get to know you."
It was only a second later that Usagi busted a gut, laughing hysterically. Ami
turned bright red at the ruckus that seemed to be drawing a great deal of attention, and
tried to hush her doubled-over friend.
"You can not honestly believe that, Ami." She asked, chuckling still. "I don't
think Mamoru has a nice bone in his body."
"All right, all right." Ami conceded as the group continued walking finally. "I
guess that was a bit far fetched…."
"Ne, there is one good thing about Chiba-sensei being here." Usagi mused, her
mood finally climbing down a bit from moments before. Both friends turned to look at
her curiously. The blonde just grinned happily and pulled her arms behind her head. "If
Mamoru-baka is stuck here grading papers all day, I'll have the arcade all to myself!"
*****
"All right, minna." Once again, almost 24 hours later, Mamoru stood before the
class, awaiting the sea of painful moans to erupt as he pulled out his teachers' manual
English text. "Before we get started on the lesson for the weekend, I'm going to have to
collect your homework."
Sure enough, thirty voices sang with low growls of displeasure, and Mamoru
chuckled openly. He was already sinking into his role as instructor and enjoying ever
second of it. He crept around the rows of filled desks, accepting the papers from
unwilling hands, and returning a few shy smiles peaking behind hopeful eyes. While he
was far from blind, he was never one to really acknowledge the existence of his sex
appeal; if you could even call it that, coming from a practically adolescent teenage girl's
point of view. So the few longing, sideways glances he caught didn't affect him much by
way of embarrassment; he was too close to their age for that. However flattery seemed to
be causing his ego to inflate, which, even he admitted to himself every once in a while, he
let his older, more mature teacher-esque mind think some thoughts that bordered on
illegal. He may have been their substitute, but he wasn't dead.
And so he enjoyed their attention, so what? In the back of his mind he knew that
wasn't completely deserving. As he spoke to these kids, some hardly 5 years his junior,
he was very aware of the role he was playing, and how far from reality it really was.
None of them knew his standard routine of grabbing a drink at the arcade after a long day
and then going home and vegging in front of the tube. Or of his sudden penchant for
Laser tag. Truth be known, he wasn't truly professor material.
He paused suddenly, gently taking a paper from a particularly giggly girl, and let
that all-too familiar grin perk up his expression a touch. Unlike the previous day, Usagi
wasn't slinking to the bottom of her chair in humiliation; and to his total surprise he
noticed a messy piece of notebook paper lying in front of her.
He snuck up behind her and snatched the paper before she could give him that
nasty glare, adding it to his growing pile. She jumped out of her skin and whirled around
to face him as she had before, lips taught and unspeaking. Now, thought Mamoru, here
was the one person in the whole school whom he could be positive wasn't fooled by his
clean appearance. From the second he locked eyes with her the other day, he could see
the spit-fire just aching to burn him from her mouth. This was a new level their
relationship had come to; they had to find new ways to tick each other off. And as the
undeniable authority figure, Mamoru was thoroughly enjoying his new role as the
perpetual victor.
He didn't give her a second look, and he could feel her burning glare on his back
as his heels clicked back up to the front. He leaned up against the large mahogany desk
and crossed his arms, purposely avoiding the enraged blonde's furious expression.
"I'm very pleased to see that everyone was able to complete their work this time
around. I hope we can all keep it up."
Thirty sets of ears picked up what sounded like a low growl, snarling as if out of
bloodlust for its prey. But only four knew who it came from.
*****
"Mamoru!" The voice on the other end of the line barked loudly. Mamoru sighed
and kicked his shoes from his aching feet, and plopped himself in his recliner carelessly.
"Hai?" He responded emotionlessly. It was Kawasaki-sensei, checking up on his
first week; he didn't even need to be told. He was expecting the call.
"Kawasaki here." Mamoru rolled his eyes as his fists clenched as they lay on the
arm rests beside him. It was amazing that even when he was miles away, the man could
still get under his skin like no one else. "Just calling to see how the project is turning out.
I'll be expecting a report from your superiors at Juuban Jr. High on Monday, and I
thought I'd give you the chance to spill your guts before hand."
"It's going good." Mamoru shrugged to himself, knowing the other man couldn't
see it. "Only been five days though."
"What exactly are you planning on doing during this time, Chiba?" Kawasaki-san
asked pointedly, and Mamoru became confused.
"Doing?" Once more, he shrugged to the oblivious wall that he stared into. "I'm
not sure I understand, sir."
"Chiba!" He barked again and Mamoru sighed, rubbing his eyes, exhausted. "You
have a rare and wonderful opportunity here! Do I need to keep reminding you of that?"
"No. No, sir." He stated, knowing he wasn't going to win no matter what he
added here.
"Then you have to start taking some chances! You'll be with these kids a long
time; you can do some good there." He bellowed into the receiver merrily, and Mamoru
immediately pictured the Western myth Santa Claus, chuckling as he stroke his long
white beard and patted the round gut. He raised an eyebrow.
"Sir, I've only been there a week. I haven't had many …" Mamoru was cut off,
however, by another turn-about by the elder.
"Mamoru!"
"Yes?"
"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth!"
There was a moment of silence as Mamoru paused at the odd statement. Odd not
only because he wasn't QUITE sure if it fit the situation, and even more so because the
curious man on the other end had shouted it out in perfect English.
"I…won't?"
"Good!"
More than a little baffled, Mamoru stared at the phone in his hand as the dial tone
sang from the ear piece after Kawasaki-san abruptly hung up, and shook his head as he
replaced it on the cradle.
"I wonder if it's the stress put on a teacher that makes them go insane…."
*****
This was good.
Mamoru groaned under his breath and shook his head, disgusted with himself.
No, this was intrinsically *not* good, and he was a horrible person for even thinking such
things in the first place. He was staring in complete wonder at the slip of paper, signed
'Tsukino Usagi', in front of him. He'd tried to remain partial; he really had. But as soon
as he found that, at the time he had completed grading the paper, it had more red marks
than pencil on it. He'd known the girl was lazy; those carelessly discarded test papers had
been proof enough. But, for whatever reason, Usagi has obviously put a great deal of
effort into this assignment and now he was going to have to hand it back to her covered
with corrections.
The old Mamoru, the one who wasn't her teacher, would have laughed until his
sides hurt. He would have watched her face turn the same shade as the pen used to mark
the paper up, and then sent a superior snort of displeasure in her direction before she had
a chance to retort. And without another word, he would have left. End of story.
But that was then. It had only been a week, but this paper was proof of what he
had (secretly) suspected all along; she wanted to try. And as hard-hearted as Mamoru
appeared to be, he wasn't sure he wanted to be the one to tell Usagi that her best didn't
seem to be good enough.
Sighing, Mamoru pulled his reading glasses off his face and rubbed his weary
eyes. He blinked and then stared at the paper again, as if it would give him some new
ideas as to how to go about this. To begin with, he and Usagi didn't exactly have the best
repertoire; something he was constantly taking flack for. Whether it be from Motoki,
Usagi's friends or his own conscience, he was under a constant barrage of questions as to
his motives behind the war. And to tell the truth, he honestly had no idea. It was fun, and
beyond that, he never really offered himself a deeper explanation. But he liked seeing her
get riled up. Why, sometimes he found it the highlight of his day!
But now, as he pursed his lips and glared at the small, even strokes that she wrote
with, he was posed with a problem. Usagi was not doing well; that wasn't a secret. And
to remain his normal self, Mamoru would have to ignore her obvious need of academic
help, and simply continue his job without event. Get his credits, and get out.
But on the other hand – Mamoru raked his fingers through his hair – He couldn't
quite get Kawasaki-sensei's call out of his thoughts. He had a chance to help Usagi.
Granted, she wasn't his favorite person in the world, but then again, who was? No, they
weren't close; it was true. But he liked to consider himself a distant friend of hers, and so
consequently he found an odd, misplaced concern for the young girl. He wanted to see
her succeed. He was her teacher; it was his job.
He leaned back in his chair.
OK, so he had decided he wanted to help her; now what? He stretched his arms
behind his neck and titled his head to the side. He guessed a more immediate problem
would be to figure out how to approach her with this notion to begin with. She wasn't
likely to take his suggestions in stride, let alone seriously. He was sure he was going to be
met with some vehemence at first, but if he handled himself well, he might be able to
convince her….
Of what? His forehead wrinkled in concentration. He still hadn't figured out how
to help her. To simply walk up to her and tell her that her grades were in the toilet and
she would flunk if she didn't pull her act together was a tad on the tactless side. Not to
mention he was pretty positive he'd be missing some vital organs if he took that exact
approach.
Mamoru shook his head, upset with himself once more. He knew what the
solution was, but was reluctant to come to it. It was almost a sacrilege. It would mean
forsaking their whole past, for the sake of her educational career. And while he was
hesitant to rope himself into the job, he knew he wasn't about to trust anyone else with it.
Perhaps he took the task too much to heart; any other student who had this problem he
would have been able to entrust them in capable hands other than his own. But this was
Tsukino Usagi; he knew her. He was comfortable around her, and he was confident he
could help her. Her welfare was at stake; he wasn't going to let a peer chance that.
So, it was then that Chiba Mamoru took that shaky step. In the desolate, echoing
classroom at Juuban Jr. High, he exhaled in partial acceptance, partial anticipation. In
twelve hours, he would begin his attempt to tutor that annoying Odango Atama, Tsukino
Usagi.
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I know, I KNOW! Antigone even told me, "The substitute plot isn't overdone. But the
tutor plot – THAT'S overdone." Boohoo. You're still reading, so cry me a river.
Feedback? :)
slr_europa@yahoo.com
http://www.geocities.com/slr_europa/
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