The clock ticked. No one listened.
The classroom was a mess of voices, laughter, shouting, and chairs scraping against the wooden floor. Despite the exhaustion of the day, students were as lively as ever.
Except for one.
Myles sat slumped over his desk, cheek pressed against his arm. He hadn't slept last night, having spent it testing yet another twisted method to end his pathetic life. Why? Who knows. But a nap here? In school? With classmates like his? Impossible.
A year had passed since Myles was sent to study in Japan, and things hadn't improved. He lived alone in a fancy apartment paid for by his ridiculously rich parents, no one checked on him. No calls. No messages. Was it even legal to leave a teenager completely alone? His Japanese was still passable at best, the culture still confused him sometimes. But school? Hell. Hell disguised as routine. He stood out too much. Golden hair, green eyes, a face delicate enough to draw the wrong kind of attention. And attention was exactly what he got.
Footsteps approached.
Three guys. Shaggy black hair, blue hair, and a blonde buzz cut. Ren, Riku, Daiki. Music club regulars. Also, regular pains in his ass.
Myles thought: (Here we go again.) For he recognized their footsteps.
"Sleeping again? Dude, this is getting boring," Daiki muttered, twisting open a water bottle and taking a long gulp.
"He's like a robot," Riku huffed. He reached out, tugging at Myles' ponytail. "Wake up. I wanna see your face."
No response.
"Onna-gao."
Silence.
(Ignoring me, are we?) Annoyed, Riku yanked harder, forcing Myles to lift his head. Green eyes blinked up at him, dull and unreadable.
Riku leaned in, voice low: "Were you ignoring me just now?"
Myles tilted his head slightly. If there was one thing he was good at, it was pretending to be clueless. "Hm?"
Daiki snorted. "Oh yeah, I forgot. He barely understands Japanese."
Ren, who had been watching quietly, clicked his tongue. "Tch. He looks like a lost puppy."
(A lost puppy?) Myles thought.
Riku, irritated by the lack of a reaction, suddenly snatched Daiki's water bottle.
"Man, what the fuck- go buy your own," Daiki complained. But then he realized what Riku intended. His annoyance turned into something cruelly amused.
Ren's gaze flicked between Riku, Daiki, and Myles. "Wait. What are you—"
Cold.
The water spilled over Myles' head, it drenched his hair, seeping into his uniform, trickling down his back. His breath hitched. His fingers twitched.
That was it.
The bell rang.
Riku patted Myles' soaked shoulder, laughing. "See you later, Onna-gao~"
Ren looked at Myles, he hesitated before sighing and turning away.
•••
3:45 PM
The wind rattled the windows as Myles swept the floor. Chalk dust in the air, the scent of old wood, murmured voices in the hallway. He coughed lightly.
A girl wiping desks glanced at him. (His hair is still wet.) She thought. "You should dry your hair once you get home or else you might get sick." She said, however all Myles did was nod. He grabbed the trash bag and stepped outside.
Behind the school was quiet, save for the distant hum of traffic. And Ren. Leaning against the wall, cigarette in hand, looking like he owned the place.
Myles ignored him, tossing the trash into the bin. But Ren spoke.
"Your hair's still damp."
Myles sighed. No avoiding him. He pulled out a cigarette, flicked the lighter once. Twice. Nothing.
Ren wordlessly held his out.
Myles took it, lit up, handed it back. Inhale. Exhale.
"Sorry about Riku," Ren said casually. "He's an asshole."
(And you're not?)
Myles took another drag. "And you just stood there."
Ren smirked. "What, you wanted me to stop him?"
Myles didn't answer.
Ren studied him for a moment. "You going to the café?"
Myles frowned. "Why?"
"Ditching club. Let's walk together."
A pause.
(Ditching club? Weird.)
Myles exhaled through his nose. "Alright."
Ren turned toward the school. "C'mon. Let's grab our stuff."
Myles followed.
He wasn't sure why.
But you've noticed it, haven't you?
They knew each other.
Once, they had been close. But things changed. Ren began hanging out with the 'cool' kids. The kind who thought pushing someone around was a fun pastime. He never joined in. Never stopped them either. Just watched.
Sometimes, he threw in a comment, casual and offhanded. Like earlier, when he said Myles looked like a lost puppy.
After a beat, Myles spoke. "What does Onna-gao mean?"
Ren glanced at him, one brow raised. "You don't know?"
Myles' brow twitched. "No. Just answer."
Ren chuckled, shaking his head. "It means 'girly face.'"
(So that's what that blue-haired bastard's been calling me this whole time? I can't say I'm surprised.)
Myles scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Tch. Figures."