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Paper Catapults

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A small square of paper hit the back of my head, and my chin slips off from my hand. I pick up and unfold the note, squinting behind my glasses at the familiar angular handwriting.

"Quit dozing off at class. Do you want to sit outside on the corridor so bad?"

I get my pen and reply. I tried chucking it at his head too, but unlike me, he was listening properly. Or at least alert enough to not get a note to his face.

"Always the killjoy. My dream was getting good too."

Another paper catapult.

"You've already got your horde of adoring fans. You have to dream about them as well?"

I shake my head minutely.

"Baka."

I saw him read the reply and the small smirk form on his lips.

"I'm afraid sleeping in class won't make you taller. That's going to be in your dreams on a permanent basis."

I glare at the paper slowly being filled up by our conversation.

"Can we stop it with the height jokes?"

Was it my imagination, or did I hear him laugh under his breath?

"Or did I interrupt your confession to Koichi-kun? Dude, you already have the proof of your love for him released on DVD."

I could feel my ears burning in embarrassment. How was I supposed to have known that they're going to release a DVD of that concert?!

...Well maybe I knew at some point. But still!

"I give up. Why am I friends with you again?"

He laughs a little louder this time, but thankfully their teacher makes a joke and they're saved from unnecessary questioning. He throws his reply at me, but now I was expecting it.

"Because we're the first members of each other's then-delusional fanclubs. Remember when we promised we'd be super-idols when we grow up? ^___^Y"

I smile when I read the reply. Trust Yuto-kun to get all sappy over passed notes.

 

Another folded square lands at my desk. It's from him again. The first notebook page is indeed filled up. I open the note, and all the sappy feelings I have quickly evaporated.

"Sorry on kinda leaving you behind on the growing up part. I told you to drink your milk."

I stare at the paper. What is it with him rubbing his height in my face all of a sudden?!

"You are impossible."

I almost stab my pen through the paper when I wrote down my reply. Talking to Yuto like this is proving to be more challenging that actually listening in class.

"That's one of my middle names. Impossibly gorgeous, impossibly tall, impossibly awesome... The list goes on!"

I shake my head. I forgot why I was even sleepy in the first place.

Talking to him is worse than getting high yourself. Sans the illegal substances.

"You've been watching too many foreign dramas. You don't have a middle name, you're Japanese!"

I see him pout before replying.

"Now who's the killjoy."

I smile. Oooooh~ payback time.

"A tall tree that I have for a crazy friend? You may know him, he calls himself Nakajima Yuto. Idol by day, pimp by night."

I enjoy how his jaw drops at my reply.

Boy, did I know.

"I thought you declared yourself my husband already at that concert. You sure move fast; I just told them you're my boyfriend!"

I stare at his reply.

And stare at it some more.

And write down the words running through my brain right now.

"NAKAJIMA YUTO. W H A T."

He laughs, and their teacher swivels around at the noise. But they were good actors pretending to be good students.

"^___^Y"

A smiley? A smiley?!

"Stop wasting paper already, aren't you concerned about what your fellow trees have gone through to be the paper in your notebook?"

I wait for his next reply.

"Next you're going to rant about how many squids were sacrificed to be the ink in my pen. Since when were you so concerned about nature, Yama-chan?

Are you actually the pimp by night."

My reply lands next to his science book.

"I'M NOT A PIMP OKAY. And I was concerned with nature ever since that time when I turn into a koala whenever I punch somebody. Now quit throwing notes at my head, I want to pass this subject."

"Okay! Guilt through shouty capitals much.

If you actually wanted to pass this thing you wouldn't sleep in the first place.

Oh and the last time I checked you said I was a giraffe, not a tree."

My friend is officially nuts.

I always had a nagging suspicion. But this closes the deal.

"I give up.

I am tired with the mental gymnastics, especially when it's against you on some sort of hormonal high.

If you're a giraffe then stop wasting paper. It's made from trees. They're your source of nourishment. It's like wasting your food!"

Another paper catapult.

This time their teacher catches it.

Suffice to say their teacher was angry.

 

Well, at least I had someone sitting out the cold corridor with me this time.