The Hate List

Disclaimer: nope

Summary: It all started with that stupid piece of stupid paper

Dear Holy Gods I'm bored! I groaned in my head. There's nothing quite like randomly scribbling on a stolen notebook, especially one stolen from The Yankee Girl during lunch. But not even vandalizing her stuff could have made me feel any better about being so antsy. I quickly took an inconspicuous glance around. Everyone was facing forward, taking notes. I sighed and rolled my eyes. Of course there was no one to make faces at… not that I'd ever made faces at random people during a lecture before but…damn, I was just that out of my brain bored. Any entertainment would do.

Dear Gods! How could they listen to his monotonous, droning voice without falling into a deep, deep sleep (a coma?). I couldn't even make out, for certain, what the fuck he was going on about; his words blended into other words, sentences ran together in a NEVER ENDING STREAM OF BUZZING BORINGNESS!!!

Woe was anyone who could bear that!! If they were woe, then I was absolute anguish for not being able to bear it!

rwejh43kjkhcjxbv94854jhg45oiu5kjh54k4hk!!!

…

I, personally, had stopped listening approximately 14 seconds into the lecture. Having the unfortunate tendency to slip into the previously mentioned almost coma and, consequentially, hitting my head on the desk... yeah, not productive.

What did I do to deserve this!?, I cried in agony. Listening to him, even without listening, my brain felt like it was trying to force its way out through my right ear. To get an idea of how much more torture I was going to have to go through, I glanced at the clock, NOOOOOO!!!

Thirty more minutes.

jh456kjnb65m3nk65kjhl56kljh2kj31hlklj6hlk7kljh64kjh!!!

There was nothing I could do to fix my brain, it was lost. The next step was to get a lobotomy and truly become a drooling vegetable.

In my little bitch session my scribbling had waned, I picked up where I left off. Fleeting thoughts of freedom danced in my head like dead fish on a rollercoaster. There was no hope, I was sure I was going to die. I contemplated, briefly, jumping out the window… to be free… as in outside… not dead. I sighed my emoness and scribbled a little more, gashing random lines into the cardboard cover of the cheap notebook. I glanced down to see what my subconscious had brought me for Bore-mas. Ha ha. I'm so freaking funny….

Hmm, I thought, tilting my head a little to the left for a better angle, kinda looks like the word 'hate'. Well… 'HaT3' but who's counting?

I didn't quite know how the scribble/word had emerged into an idea, or, consequentially, how that idea slithered onto the first blank piece of paper in the notebook but the next time I looked down there was The Hate List. I did not question it, I did not think about it, I just read it.

At the top of the list: I hate being the cat in my, admittedly messy, nearly illegible, script. The statement, though, was a given. Who of the zodiac wouldn't hate being the cat? I bet they all think, Well, shit, life's bad. But at least I'm not the cat. I would think that too if I weren't me. There's also the fact that they're all hard wired to think of me was an outsider who doesn't belong. Some have gotten over it, but others…

Depressing….

Moving right along...

Next was: I hate Shigure, I meditated on that one a moment. Shigure was an annoying. And a letch. And he possessed no conscience…. But, then, he had also taken me into his house…. That was a tough one but I amended the statement with a 'most of the time'.

The list went on:

I Hate Ayame

I Hate Rain

I Hate Leeks

I Hate Crowded Rooms (Claustrophobia)

I Hate Invaded Privacy

I Hate When There's No Milk

I Hate When Cats Swarm Me

I Hate Peanut Butter

I Hate Bananas

I Hate the Sound Of Static

I Hate Baking Soda

I Hate Mint

I Hate the Sound Of Electric Pencil Sharpeners

I Hate Bright Yellow and Orange

I Hate Monday

I Hate Tuesday

I Hate Thursday

I Hate Sunday

I Hate Purple

I Also Hate Grey

I Hate Girly, Gay Looking Shirts

I Hate Pale People (Not Tohru)

I Hate Rats

As I read over these things, I noted a trend in the latter hates. They were things about, or related to, Yuki. But I had avoided actually putting the rat's name on the paper.

... Interesting.

I picked up my pencil the fix this.

I Hate The Rat

…That was still avoiding it, so I erased this and tried again.

I hate Yuki…

I stared at the ellipse. Was there more to it? There was no way that there could be more to my genetic hate for his person and existence... could there? I didn't thinkso…. This was deeply troubling. Hating Yuki was the stabilityof my existence. There were times when even my will to live depended on him; beating him, taunting him, the promise with Akito. If there were exceptions to the rule, if there was more to it, if I found reasons not to hate him…then what?

I flipped my pencil over and prepared to erase the dots but froze. Maybe… maybe, if I could think on it for a while, I'd find the reason for my hesitance. Anything getting in the way of my hate for him was something that was terribly, terribly wrong with the world and that needed to go down.

I dropped my pencil, decided. I would think on it. I nodded to myself in agreement, putting the Hate List away.

I toyed with my pencil a while then, as I was on a decision making roll, you see, that I should give the teacher another shot. See if he didn't kill me this time. I looked back up at the teacher, opened my ears to him, and attempted to pay some sort of attention. But that didn't work so well, I ended up face down on my desk.

I sat up on the roof later that night. It was twilight, the best time for being on the roof, all things considered. The sun was just beginning to blaze its exit, cutting straight to my skin not warming the air. It was the time for thinking, for relaxing, for the air to begin chilling and making me thankful for my elevated body temperature. It was a time to get some privacy—to meditate on my list... the Yuki part of my list.

I stared down at the notebook paper I had written the list on. I hadn't added anything to the list but on the way home I had contemplated rewriting the list so it wasn't as… ugly. But I ended up letting it be; my scribbles had character.

I focused my wandering mind and decided to cement my uncertainties in writing. There's nothing like seeing it right in front of my eyes.

Do I HATE Yuki Souma?

I could have kicked myself in the face. What a stupid question.

I most certainly do

Annoyed at my own vague response I continued:

What is it, exactly, that I hate so much about him?

Now that was a question to get the adjectives rolling. I cocked the hand with the pencil in it and began.

I hate that he tricked me at that stupid banquet

I stared blankly down at the paper. How retarded. I didn't even actually know about that. I didn't remember it, I wasn't there. So why was it relevant? Why was it the first thing to come to mind? It wasn't our fault for our predecessor's mistakes. Besides, in all reality I hardly cared. It felt like someone else's problem, which it was.

I yanked myself back to The List and forced my hand to keep on.

I hate that he's perfect

I hate that he has an annoying fan club that's EVERYWHERE WE GO

I hate that he's the student body president

I hate that Momiji-like black haired kid that's always hanging around him (tho I will not associate him w/The Fan Club)

I hate the he can make friends so easily

I hate that he's stronger than me

I hate that he has a better shot at Tohru than I ev

I cut myself short at that one. I… Tohru is… special and I do love her. I love her like a clueless sister I need to protect. She is the epitome of everything sweet and innocent and… sweet. But Tohru is… very…. For all I love her and want to protect her, she deserves better that I could ever think about giving her. Fortunately for me though, that's not Yuki. But that didn't change the way she looked at him. I guess it could be just another 'big brother' trait—wanting to protect her from the 'Bad Men' of the world.

"Uhm, Kyo?"

Tohru's voice sent a shock through me and I automatically went to hide The List, but she was on the ground, she couldn't see. I took a deep calming breath and stood, abandoning my List, and jumped down.

"Yeah," I breathe as my feet hit the ground, nearly noiseless.

Tohru jumped and her eyes widened, getting even bigger. "Kyo you shouldn't do that! What if you landed wrong and got hurt?!" she squeals in panic. She gazes up at me with imploring, worried eyes. "Will you please… uhm, not do that?" she asks, then hastens to add, "Not that I'm trying to order you—"

I smile, I just can't help it. "I won't." I promise, and I won't. Not when she's around anyway.

She grins her silly smile and chirps, "Dinner's ready!"

I smile wider. "Yes, ma'am."