How Unfortunate...

@Claire

To say that Sakurano Yoruichi was dreading his roommate would be an understatement.

A severe understatement.

Yoruichi groaned for the umpteenth time in the past five minutes. He glared hatefully at the wall as though it was the source of all of his problems, sipped his overly-bitter tea, and groaned again. This whole situation was gross! Roommates were disgusting.

Yoruichi absolutely resented the idea.

Of course, he understood it. The Academy only had so many rooms to spare, and students seemed to be pouring in as of late. That didn't mean he had to like the situation... It just meant that he had to tolerate it, an Yoruichi was sure he could. He tolerated Iago Jeriya every day for a semester and a half. Compared to tutoring with that guy, having a roommate should be a breeze.

Still, Yoruichi loathed the idea of sharing his - already cramped! - space with anyone. He was a very private creature, you see, and he had been living alone since the age of fifteen. There were taits he had and information he worked with that Yoruichi would rather die than divulge. He didn't need anyone around. He hadn't in a long while, and he certainly didn't even want anyone now.

Yet another exaggerated moan split the silence of the dorm, and Yoruichi hoped he could afford an apartment soon.

He sipped his tea again, shifting in his place. Currently, Yoruichi was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, his glasses on and a blanket draped around his shoulders. There really was no particular reason why he was on the floor, other than he simply wanted to be. Idly, Yoruichi considered moving. The position hurt his ribs a bit, and the blanket made it hard to move his hard-cast arm. However, he was stubborn and difficult, and he felt like remaining exactly where he was on the carpet. Even if it was uncomfortable. Largely so.

"hhhhhhhnnnnggghhhhh...."

He wondered if he was being annoying to his neighbors.

Probably.

Utterly petulant and definitely not moving for any reason, Yoruichi glanced around his room idly. Two beds, two desks, two dressers, two lamps... All in all, the dorms were actually very quality, and were more spacious than he liked to give them credit for. Yoruichi had already organized all of his belongings into their proper drawers and compartments, locked boxes being under the bed for his confidential information. If possible, the room was more immaculate than before he had arrived, as well. Both beds were made perfectly, sheets pulled taught and pillows at the perfect angle. Every shelf was completely dust-free, every window was as clear as physically possible, and the air smelled faintly of antibacterial citrus and a little of his signature cologne. The dorm was absolutely spotless and pleasant...

...Aside from the grumpy man sitting wrapped in a heap of fabric, that is.

Yoruichi placed his tea down roughly, his red eyes watching the clock with conviction. His roommate would be here any second.

He would have to put up with some intruder any second.

He would be stuck with some guy for god knew how long, starting at any....

"HNNNNNGGGHHHHHHHNNNNNNN............."

Yoruichi just hoped he was nothing like Jeriya.


[Ahh, I'm sorry if this was shabby! My response will be better.]

Yoruichi braced himself with a dull stare when the door started opening. He really hoped his roommate was nothing, nothing, nothing like Jeriya.

And then.

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Yoruichi just stared, his tea forgotten, as well as his place on the floor. Of all the seven goddamn billion people and countless magical creatures, IAGO JERIYA WAS HIS ROOMMATE???

This could not be happening.

Due to his general shock, he failed to interrupt Jeriya as he spoke. But, wait - Jeriya?? Furious?? KID HAD SOME GALL...

"Oh my god. Holy fucking. You... YOU. Why is it always you..." Yoruichi began, hastily getting up and letting the blanket fall around him.

Though he paid it no mind, his tea remained in his hand, grasped so tight his knuckles turned white. Shifting the handle to his cast arm, Yoruichi ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Jeriya with the most exasperated and enraged look he had ever mustered in his life.

"I heard about the little jail trip, yeah!" he began, venom absolutely dripping from his voice, "and don't you think I expected that? I mean, 'I hate you more than anyone else' isn't exactly a goddamn love confession! I left for a reason, and it wasn't...."\

He groaned. He groaned really loud.

And that's when it struck him.

"Oh my god, Jeriya, are you stalking me??"

Yoruichi scoffed, absolutely enraged and baffled by this turn of events. How on earth had the fates been so cruel as to pair them together again? Yoruichi hated Jeriya. He hated him with every fiber of his being, hated him so strongly that it was almost tangible to the young man, hated him so long that it was ingrained into his very personality. It was in Yoruichi's nature to hate Iago Jeriya, and there was no way in hell that was about to change.

He would have been flattered by Jeriya's dedication, really, if he was any other person and this was any other situation. As it stood, though, Yoruichi was Yoruichi, and enemies were enemies until their dying breath. Yoruichi loathed Jeriya. Despised.

"Of course you don't know!" Yoruichi spat. "You never know anything, because you're stupid and you never hear what people are telling you! You piss me off because I hate you - funny how that works, isn't it?!"

Briefly, Yoruichi considered throwing his tea on Jeriya, but he figured that would just end badly. For his tea.

It was too nice to be subjected to such torture as touching Iago Jeriya.

Yoruichi had heard what Jeriya began to say - stuck with the guy who bro-... Bro? His bro? Broke? Brought? Brat wurst? Yoruichi wasn't entirely sure, but he was off on too much of a tangent to address it. Maybe later.

Assuming they didn't kill each other by 'later', that it.

"And oh, how noble of you, Jeri-chan... You clung to me for a month after I ditched you to a jail cell, left your home country, followed me thousands of miles to an uncharted island, and all so you could tell me some absolutely pointless string of words," Yoruichi said. His voice had started off loudly, as angered as ever, but slowly gained more elements of venomous deadpan sarcasm as he continued. "Yes, that's not stalking at all, is it?"

Why couldn't he have gotten someone nice?

Like cthulhu.

Yoruichi wasn't a fool.

He really wasn't.

Yoruichi knew that his words cut like a blade. They always did, no matter who he spoke to, or how, or why, or what purpose he intended with them. Even when he tried to love, it came out as hatred, as betrayal and destruction, and long ago, Yoruichi had come to embrace this part of himself. He had made it into his identity, had sewn it to his face, so that when his precious people left him it was less of an all-encompassing ache. He knew that his words hurt, even with spoken with the best of intentions.

But he wasn't speaking with the best of intentions at all.

Not this time.

Yoruichi's lips twisted into a smirk as he watched Jeriya's expression. With every word they said, those eyes seemed to get harder and... well, not colder, but warmer. When it came to rage, Jeriya had always been Yoruichi's opposite, among the infinite other ways they differed. While Yoruichi's eyes grew cold, Jeriya's grew fiery. While Yoruichi's began a dangerous dance, Jeriya's turned to stone. They were so utterly opposites that it was astounding, and right now, they were portraying their range of difference fully.

Jeriya's stony eyes were hot enough to scald, Yoruichi thought to himself, and the lights in his own seemed as frigid as the tundra itself.

He could tell that Jeriya was bothered.

"Of course I'm full of myself," Yoruichi retorted. "Unlike some people in this room, I have every reason to be. And, quite frankly, I find that hard to believe..."

He looked up and down Jeriya, a gesture that would seem almost flirtatious if the look on his face wasn't so malicious. "You look as dreadful as you did on our last meeting, Jeri-chan. Are you sure they didn't contact you out of pity?"

Iago Jeriya, when will you learn...?

It's a mistake to love a man who's become to utterly wretched.

[Sensitive content referenced. Implied past gang attack.]

Jeriya shouldn't have wasted his time on Yoruichi. He really wasn't worth it.

Yoruichi's shit-eating smirk only grew as he listened to Jeriya, the man actually enjoying the anger displayed. Surely, he didn't feel the least bit bad about the hurt he could feel radiating off of his enemy, though perhaps it was only radiating to Yoruichi, as he had known the other for six years. He surely didn't feel even the slightest bit of guilt, though maybe he did, and it was just buried deep deep deep down, because he knew the pain of rejection, knew it hurt even from someone you hated, but didn't want to sympathize with Jeriya at all. Surely there was no regret, or at least, that's what Yoruichi convinced himself of.

He could do whatever the fuck he wanted to do, could he? How interesting, considering Yoruichi already knew that. Not then, not ever had he needed Jeriya's permission to do anything, and he wondered when Jeriya decided he did. It was almost laughable, and Yoruichi almost retorted with it, but he was stopped.

Unpredictable as always, Jeriya did a complete 180 in his demeanor. Yoruichi had no idea what went on in that empty little head of his, but whatever it was, apparently it was enough to obliterate the rage in those multi-colored depths. Suddenly, they were filled with unspeakable passion, and Yoruichi found himself unable to look away —- from curiosity. From confusion and curiosity only. A peculiar blush spread across Jeriya's face, one that Yoruichi had only seen before after subjecting his enemy to brutal mortification, and his expression was entirely unreadable.

"Y-Yoru, I-" Jeriya began, and Yoruichi briefly entertained the idea of this being some sort of really weird, poorly-timed love confession. Except that would never happen. Did he drink again? Was he having one of those weird alcohol drinks, like that mustard anxiety dream he always seemed to have before a hangover? If Jeriya was getting close to his face like that, with their lips almost touching, Yoruichi was sure he had to be dreaming. This would never happen in really life. Ever.

Then there was spit. IN HIS FACE.

And before he could shriek in disgust, there was a knee in his stomach, as well.

A very hard, very powerful knee...

...beating against his side...

...a foot stomped on his chest, and a crack...

...someone spit on his face....

...it hurt...

...he couldn't breathe...

Yoruichi gasped in a mixture of shock, pain, and the overwhelming force of his first flashback in nearly a month. He hunched over, clutching his body with both his free and his cast arm, just trying to keep it from falling apart all over again. The knee hit him high in the stomach due to their height difference, high enough to take his breath and a bit of the progress his ribs had made. Though Yoruichi hadn't felt a new crack, he did feel the ache.

This was the worst, stuck being weak in front of your enemy, but he couldn't seem to right himself... not just yet. He wheezed lowly, coughed and hacked, just tried to get air back into his lungs before his aching ribs cut them to irreparable ribbons. They were still healing from the fractures, damn it! The fractures that Jeriya had already indirectly caused! Tears came to Yoruichi's eyes, though they did not fall, and Yoruichi told himself it was from the force of the coughing rather than the pain of it all.

After a moment, Yoruichi managed to find his voice.

"H-ho-ly fuck...Je...Jeriya..." Yoruichi gasped, "m-my ribs are....broken....fuck..." All he focused on was getting air into his lungs, and it wasn't working out very well.ll