Chapter Text
Fyodor taught me a lot of things in our less than lovely time together..which was a sullen but beautiful three months. She said she teaches people real life. She said real life sucks losers dry and if you want to fuck with the eagles you have to learn to fly. I said ‘so you teach people how to spread their wings and fly?’ She said yes and I said you're beautiful. But that was a lie. Between the frozen perfect smile and the never ceasing thirst for power and the constant picking on the weaker then feeding off their humiliation, Fyodor is not a beautiful person. At least not on the inside. On the outside however, she’s model material with her pale porcelain skin and rosy cheeks and pixie nose. Her eyes were a deep violet, they were lidded almost always, whether that be with lust or hostility I never knew.She had a traditionally nice body, not all that much for curves but if anything her petite build only complimented the rest of her good looks. Everything about her was so smooth, like she was a delicate gorgeous sculpture. Although I knew she wasn't that breakable, she was far too predatory and power thirsty to even possess the ability to break. Not even a scratch would touch the ego of Fyodor Dostoyevsky. I’m a good person diary. There’s good in all of us but sometimes I can’t help but wonder- “Come on Sigma!” Nikolai, one of fyodor's little puppet girls, dressed in green with a scowl on her pretty face came storming up to me and yanked my diary from my hands. “God what’s your damage?” I yelled back, mostly rhetorically and jerked my diary back from her. If she saw the contents inside, I’d be dead. “Don't blame me, blame Fyodor. She told me to drag your ass back to the cafeteria pronto?” I scoffed at her excuse and just stared, addressing her angrily. “Seriously? Jeez, back me up Bram!” Nikolai growled and turned back to face Bram, the nicer of the two who was clutching a tattered copy of Catcher In The Rye. I didn't even realize she was there until she mumbled hesitantly, still looking around nonchalantly. “Yeah, it's urgent.” I groaned and stood up, unenthused and making sure Nikolai knew it. After a short but loathsome walk to the cafeteria, I was met with a smiling Fyodor, hands crossed elegantly and dressed in red per the usual. “Hello Fyodor.” I submitted and sat down with annoyance, still pissed that Nikolai crumpled part of my page. I dreaded when she opened her mouth. Everything that came out of Fyodor's mouth was offensive but in a sexy, mysterious and poised way. She truly was a mythic bitch. “Ah, Sigma , finally!” She continued smiling. I felt like I was at a job interview with Satan himself. “I need you to forge a hot and horny but realistically chill note in Mark Twain's handwriting and slip it onto Alcott’s lunchtray.” My face twisted into automatic guilt as I glanced across the cafeteria at Louisa May Alcott, a nice girl who wasn’t necessarily unattractive, just a little plain and maybe a touch overweight. “Shit Fyodor, I don't have anything against her.” “You don't have anything for her either. C'mon it'll be funny, you never laugh any more Sigma! If anything we’ll be doing her a favor- It’ll give her shower nozzle masturabation material for weeks.” I rolled my eyes at her snarky persuasion and outstretched hand, holding a pen. My hand, almost involuntarily, accepted the pen and sighed with disappointment for both myself and my choice of friends. “How splendid of you to see the light of my dictation.” Fyodor grinned more evilly and handed me a piece of ripped paper to complete the pen, making sure it was just lazy and crumpled enough to look like a purebred jock conjured it. I gave her a few dirty glances as I wrote the ‘love-letter’. Writing down everything she said, every nasty, overly-horny word. As I finished the prank epistle, I handed it back to an impressed, satisfied Fyodor, feeling guilty, annoyed and dissatisfied with my current situation. This was the life every female at Westerburg dreamed of, so why was it so miserable? “Good. Now go on Nikki~” Fyodor purred to Nikolai, handing her the note and causing her to blush. God damn it was obvious how hard Nikolai was crushing. She’d never admit it though, probably not even to herself either. No one at Westerburg would be caught dead crushing on someone of the same gender. It was social suicide and apparently ‘shameful’. “Ok..” Nikolai mumbled, still flushed from the touch of Fyodor's slender, delicate fingers. She stood and crossed the cafeteria, coyly slipping the note onto Louisa's lunch tray and snickering at the fact she didn’t get caught. She returned back to our table in the center of the cafeteria, strutting confidently as her long white ponytail bounced. “Any second now, she’ll notice,” Nikolai giggled and sat back down. “I still don’t feel good about this,” I muttered to myself and glanced at Bram who was just sitting there calmly, an aloof look in her pretty red eyes paired with long thick eyelashes. Bram was just as pretty as the other two, but she wasnt model pretty. Moreso an angelic and pure kind of pretty that made you smile rather than get horny; like she was wise from thousands of years of knowledge. She didn't speak much, though, and there was always a look in her eyes that she cared but not enough to voice it. To be completely honest, I didn't quite know how she got involved with the others but I didn't feel the need to venture out and ask. Fyofor would get mad. Shocking, I know. “Oh don't be a pussy Siggy~” Nikolai grinned, causing Fyodor to grow a prideful look in her eyes. Fyodor loved a lot of things in life- mostly shiny things- but people mindlessly bowing down to her was high on that list. “She’s right,” Fyodor smiled softly “What’s got you so uptight lately?” She asked with an innocent and genuinely caring expression. And maybe, just maybe if I didnt know the innerworking of Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s fucked up cognitive like the back of my hand, I just might have belived it. “Nothing.” I spoke half-honestly and smiled. Fyodor glanced at me with the same smile but it now looked like she bit into a lemon. I had a feeling she was hesitating for dramatic effect and was about to make another oblique comment when Nikolai burst out into laughter. Me, Fyodor and Bram snapped out heads to see Louisa approaching Mark Twain with a flustered hopeful expression, showing him and his jock friends the note only to get laughed at and publicly embarrassed. I felt a pang of guilt in my stomach as I watched her storm out of the cafeteria, The sound of the mean giggles overwhelming me. “That was hilarious,” Fyodor snickered to herself as the jocks began to calm down. Well not all that much regarding the fact they were stereotypical jocks. “I know,” Nikolai giggled as well, “definitely worth it. Don’t you think Sigma?” My stomach twisted at the thought of Louisa crying to herself in the bathroom. I knew it wasnt allowed to be empathetic and not a heinous bitch and all that kumbaya shit…but I still couldn't help the pain in my heart for doing that to a person who's just trying to get by, like all the rest of us. I mustered a nod and half-hearted mean grin while everyone turned back to each other. We sat in a silence filled with Nikolai’s amusement and Fyodor’s victor until Nikolai, who was sitting in front of me, looked behind me with a grimace. “God, aren't they fed yet? Do they even have Thanksgiving in Africa?” She sneered, referring to the stand during lunch that always tried to get holiday donations for people who had less. I planned to slip 5 dollars into the sad little jar if no one was looking when the opportunity arose. From the stand, I heard the familiar voices of Poe and Ranpo, a duo who were rumored to be dating, trying to get people to donate to them. Mostly Poe though, Ranpo was kinda just standing there, smiling charmingly and being there for moral support. Ranpo was relatively popular and Poe was a kid everyone knew was really nice but no one talked to. Despite this, they were both classified as ‘nerds’ and did the typical geek activities. I thought they were cool though- Nice too, besides ranpo’s occasional arrogance. I would’ve gladly talked to them more if it weren't for Fyodor dictating my entire life. She said that people like that were ‘lower class’ or something idiotic. “Oh sure, Pilgrims, Indians, tater tots; it's a real party continent.” I replied sarcastically and rolled my eyes. Fyodor then pulled out a clipboard out of her preppy little backpack and smiled. “Hey Siggy, guess what day it is today?” “Ouch…lunchtime poll?” She nodded and smirked. “What's the question?” “Yeah, what's the question?” Bram asked almost instantly after I did. “God, I told you today in study hall, Bram. You’re such a pillowcase!” “I forgot…” Bram spoke quietly and returned to the Catcher In The Rye with eyes full of hurt and a small frown, regretting she even tried. “Would this question happen to be the same bizzaro thing you were jabbering about over the phone last night?” “Shut up, it is. I told Shibusawa if he gave me another political question, I'd spew out my last handful of alives.” I snorted and stood up with Fyodor, walking until a particular pair of brown eyes caught my gaze. I froze completely. I had seen them somewhere before but not in these halls. Somewhere much less shitty than Westerburg. The eyes were such a statement I couldn't even focus on the actual person. Just that tantalizing, tortured, beautiful burnt amber gaze. I was so transfixed that I crashed into a girl who was seated, causing her to drop her stuff. I stuttered out a jumbled apology before realizing who it was. “Yosano…Gosh I'm sorry” I spoke softly, embarrassed and rueful as I crouched down to pick up the things I caused her to drop. “It's ok. I'm sorry too.” She chuckled nervously as I handed her all of the dropped stuff. “Hey, I'm really sorry I missed your birthday party last month.” “No, dont be, your mom said you had a big date…heck I’d probably miss my own birthday party for a date.” She blushed lightly and looked down. We were smiling at each other and the situation probably should’ve felt dreadfully awkward but it didn't. “Don't say that.” I shook my head, about to go on the whole ‘boys are stupid and you’ll find someone one day’ speech until she spoke again, pulling something out of her backpack. “Oh, Sigma, you have to see what I dug up the other day!” She smiled brighter and showed me what she pulled from her bag. A photograph of us arm-in-arm- I was dressed as a witch and she was an angel. It had to have been the 2nd grade at least. I glowed at the photo, feeling a warm sensation as well as guilt before I got yanked away by Fyodor, dropping the photo and leaving Yosano with a surprised, disappointed expression. “What the fuck? I was talking to someone!” She merely rolled her eyes and continued dragging me off. “You signed a contract honey. A metaphorical contract that if you wanted to live the life of your dreams, you’d have to stop braiding hair and watching Sesame Street with prudes like Yosano Akiko.” “And who said that this was a dream come true for me or something?” “Oh please, Sigma. You asked for this.” “That doesn't relate to this. What's wrong with hanging out with other people? Even talking to them you have an issue with.” “Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw Sigma. Do I look like Mother Teresa? If I did then I wouldn't mind talking to the geek squad.” “Doesn't it bother you that everyone in this school thinks you're a piranha?” “Like I give a shit. Everyone sees me as a friend or a fuck. I'm worshiped at Westerburg and I'm only a junior." I glared at her and jolted away from her grasp.”Whatever, I'll see you after lunch.” I scoffed and walked away. Lunch poll with Fyodor by my side sucked but when I was on my own it was honestly fun. It was the only time I could ever interact with other people besides my typical group of the starter pack crayon box. At least I got to be blue in the crayon box though. Cadmium suited me well. I walked around the cafeteria, asking people the question that Fyodor was yapping about, smiling genuinely and trying not to notice the groups that ogled me. If you're gonna stare at my boobs at least try to be slick about it. Until finally I began to approach the kid from earlier, the one with the tan trenchcoat and mysterious air. He smiled charmingly back at me as I sauntered closer to him, eyeing me up and down while a million thoughts were visible behind his chocolate brown eyes. Damn…I loved chocolate… “Hey~'' I smiled in a friendly way, not treating him any differently than I did the others and trying to play this as cool as possible, seemingly doing a pretty good job. “Greeting and salutations. Name’s Dazai.” He smirked with a lazy look. He was sitting by himself in the area where the stoners sat so the smell of smoke filled my nostrils. “Nice to meet you Dazai” I chuckled. His cheesy little acknowledgement was already tugging at my heart. “The pleasure’s all mine,” he chuckled smoothly. I smiled and let out a soft humming noise of satisfaction, we continued staring at each other and I swear to god that I saw those eyes before. “I have a question for you!” I exclaimed softly, folding my hands behind my back and swaying subconsciously, a beaming smile resting on my face. He raised an eyebrow with mirth and grinned. He was the perfect mixture of so cocky he had to stick his head into everything and too stoned to care. He nodded his head in acknowledgment and continued smirking expectantly. “It's a bit of a stupid question…” I warned before he shifted his weight in his seat and let out a heavenly noise that was somewhat of a giggle. “There are no stupid questions~” I smirked in return, planning on proving him wrong. “If you inherit five million dollars the same day aliens invade and tell us they're blowing up the world in two days what would you do?” He blinked at me in pleasant surprise and replied suavely, “That was the stupidest question I have ever heard.” I giggled and his eyes seemed to shine at the sound “Honestly, would find myself a beautiful woman and commit a double suicide.” My eyes widened in surprise and a crazed look of excitement bloomed in them, despite my pretty face remaining calm. “That tells me a hell of a lot about you as a person you know.” I smirked and tried to keep my reaction subtle, despite having about a million questions. “Does it?” He inquired gently and tilted his head. “Yup.” I nodded my head, exhaling slightly shakily. The anticipating silence and our shifting eye contact brought me that overwhelming sense of deja vu from earlier. I opened my mouth to break the silence with a joke when he beat me to it. “I'm sorry for asking this miss but, h-have we met?” he looked up at me with a dissipating smirk. “You feel it too…” I whispered, my lips parted and chills running up my spine. What was this feeling? It was unbearable and I could practically feel the sparks flying. I stood there in a daze of admiration when I felt a yank on my arm, yelping as I got dragged away from him. “Later!” I called out with a smile despite being heavily annoyed having to leave. “Definitely.” He smiled with confirmation, his soft chuckling getting fainter in my ears as I got pulled away by a pissed off Fyodor. “Drool much?” She scoffed with a disgusted smile and finally loosened her grip. “Oh shut up. He’s in my American history and I think he’s…nice…” That wasn't a complete lie. I…think…I had history with him. “Nice?” Now she looked even more bewildered and repulsed. “Oh please, I’d be less concerned if you fucked a dog…or a truck driver if I’m feeling mean.” “You’re always feeling mean,” I grumbled, eliciting a prideful grin from her. “My point is that you’re forbidden from dating scum like that. At least not if you wanna stay in this clique.” She gave me her infamous bitchy smug expression. “When did I mention anything about dating him??” I scoffed, acting like the idea was utterly ridiculous despite the fact the absurdity was all that was on my mind. “Oh please, it's all over your face….and here I thought, you were too good for stoners.” She mocked contemptuously “You’re the one who's too good for it all Fyodor! Maybe if you stopped looking down at people all the time, you'd fix that double chin.” I scoffed before realizing what I said. Absolutely no one mocked Fyodor Dostoevsky. My eyes widened as I saw her practically foaming at the mouth.
Dear diary, I've royally fucked up.