I know, I know, I haven't worked on this for a really long time. I meant to, but other things got in the way. Today, I found some inspiration and decided to at least finish this chapter. I can't make any promises, but I will try to conclude this story at some point. I don't own Azumanga Daioh, of course.

Standing there uncomfortably, Yomi allowed her teacher to walk behind her, unsure of if she should turn to face the woman or not. There was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, and the girl could not figure out why- after all, Yukari was very near part of their "gang".

Stop.

There was something very wrong here- the building tension in her gut didn't match up with her healthy lunch. There should not be anything wrong here, other than the fact that it was her standing in front of Yukari and not Tomo. Despite this logical reasoning, the irrational feeling remained, taking the additional forms of a pounding heart and a shiver down her spine- did the temperature suddenly drop about ten degrees? The hallway outside was awfully quiet, and the outside shouting suddenly seemed distant. But what did that matter? She was in detention with her homeroom teacher, not locked in the room with a murderer.

Behind her, Yomi could hear Yukari breathing deeply, the only noise in the silence besides her own heart, which was nearly deafening. Realizing she had been holding her breath, the girl slowly let it go.

"Miss Mizuhara."

Unable to stand the pressure anymore, the girl turned around, and immediately wished she had. not

While, in reality, Yomi was around the same height, if slightly taller than her teacher, she suddenly felt very small under Yukari's gaze. Those cold eyes had an unmistakable predatory glint. Yomi hoped she was only imagining it, or that she was simply cracking under the pressure of her first detention. That... that must be it...

Right?

Yukari stepped forward, a position much too close for a student and teacher to be in, and Yomi felt all the color drain out of her face. "Miss..." She tried to find the words for the situation, but how could she answer that face? Yukari did not look like she was listening to her anyway. In fact, Yomi could have sworn that she saw the corner of the woman's lips twitch upward on one side. Somehow, it did not seem like this was about homework anymore.

Carefully, Yomi stepped back, and Yukari stepped forward, this time pressing their lips together- but not in a gently or even excessively aggressive way. This kiss was eerily still- both Yomi and Yukari's eyes were open. Shock stared into concentrated emptiness. It was as if Yukari was not thinking, but had set an undiscovered part of herself loose on Yomi.

After a moment, Yukari lifted her lips off Yomi's. When the girl did not move, paralyzed, almost hesitantly, one of Yukari's arms slid around Yomi's waist and pulled her closer. Frightened, the girl gave a awkward jump, almost yelling before Yukari covered her mouth. "Don't panic," the teacher growled softly, placing her head on the crook of the young lady's neck. Just a little while.

Yukari moved her hand off Yomi's mouth slowly, making sure she did not scream. Nyamo, she thought, repeatedly. Nyamo. This is Nyamo.

It was not the same- but why? In personality, at least, there was no avoiding that her friend and her student were almost identical, so it should not matter which one she was with. At least, that was what Yukari tried to convince herself, but another side of her mind argued for sanity. She let her nails dig into Yomi's waist angrily- she was not Nyamo, as much as Yukari wished she would be.

She felt Yomi struggle out of her grip, but hardly cared, even as the young girl dashed out the door.