It was in 2012 when I stepped foot into the halls of Yamaku for the first time. This is the part where you, the reader, sighs and passes this off as another misfit fish-out-of-water story. However, there is one feeling that stood me apart from others in this situation.

I didn't feel nervous, hopeful, or anything else you would expect a boy away from his home county to feel.

No, the only thing I felt was hate.

I didn't know who these people were, but I hated them. Not the kind of hate that makes you want to scream in the face of someone, not even the kind that makes you want to punch someone's lights out.

This was the worst kind of hatred, one that breeds not aggression, but indifference. If one of them were to fall over and die right in front of my eyes, I don't know if I could muster up the necessary emotions to care.

I don't know or dislike anyone in this place, yet for some reason, I felt nothing but emptiness in my heart for them. The world has a word for that- hate.

At the time, this was the only answer I could see for my feelings. And that's how my life at the prestigious Yamaku Academy began- with unfiltered hatred for everyone around me, walking alongside my only friend- an old wooden cane.

I was leaning against a wall as I waited for my homeroom teacher to bring me in for my introduction. I had rested my cane on the wall while I stood. Eventually, with several moments having passed, I peaked into the classroom.

The teacher was moving along with his lesson, apparently having forgotten I was there. Upon seeing me, he nearly threw his chalk behind him in surprise.

He manages an awkward smile before saying "Oh, I'm sorry, I got caught up a bit... why don't you come inside?"

I stepped into the classroom at took a look at my new peers. They didn't seem too different from any other students their age, save for a few missing limbs and the likes throughout the room.

My brain snapped into focus upon hearing the instructor say "Introduce yourself."

I hesitate for a moment, and a feeling of anxiety briefly washes up from my knees to my stomach. It is immediately is repressed by the returning hate, and my words manage to escape. "My name is Patrick Shields. I'm from Ireland."

The teacher says something I tune out and points to a seat near the back of the classroom. With my cane going first, my legs carry me in that direction and find their way towards an empty desk. I sit down and hear the words "Study period" and the room is instantly filled with the chatter of students.

"Hey," a voice next to me says, "I'm Nakai, but call me Hisao. I like your cane!" He reaches out to feel and I snap it away from him.

"Oh, sorry! I shouldn't have done that."

I'm already tired of this. My leg aches.

I pull myself back onto my feet and walk towards the front of the classroom towards the instructor. Clearing my throat, I ask "If there is no lesson for the day, may I be excused to the nurse? I'm having an issue with my medication." I got the approval to leave and walked out the door.

"My my, didn't expect to see you back so soon." As usual, the nurse is jesting with me. "Is your leg giving you problems?"

"Yes," I reply. "It hurts, as usual, but the pills aren't doing much." I sat down on the exam table and stretched my leg out, feeling the pain reach from my knee up my thigh. I wince and the nurse walks over.

"Alright, it's gonna be awkward, but I gotta look at it again." Knowing I had no choice, I adjusted myself and dropped my trousers to my knees and lifted the left leg of my boxers up to show my scars.

My left leg looks like a total train wreck. A mess of scars and burns from the incident itself, combined with surgical scars and half-assed attempts at reconstructive surgery. Despite the appearance, the worst damage was beyond the surface. Permanent nerve and bone damage left me in a persistent ache. At times it is manageable, but without a careful influx of muscle relaxers and pain killers, it became a full body migraine with my thigh at the epicenter.

The nurse felt his way along my thigh. The pressure hurt, but it was over quickly. I pulled my trousers back to my waist and wait for the results.

"Well, I've got an idea for a diagnosis, but I want to ask a few questions first." He sat down and crossed his legs, giving me a serious look. "You've been here a week now, given those seven days to adjust and feel more stable. In that time, did you make any friends?"

"No." My answer was sharp and curt.

"Did you talk to anyone? Introduce yourself to a dorm mate? Ask to be shown around? Anything?"

Just as brusquely, I reply again, "No."

"How are you eating?"

"When others aren't around."

"Are you doing any sort of mental self care?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"..." The nurse looked at me sternly. "Have you tried writing anything?"

I give a stern look of my own back. "I think you know the answer to that."

He looked at me straight in the eyes and gave his diagnosis. "You're stressed out and isolated in a new country. You have people to reach out to and activities at hand to help your emotional well-being, and you're refusing to use them. Your leg hurts because you're stressed out and not helping yourself."

I wanted retaliate, but I couldn't. He was right, there were people who I could reach out to and things I could do to help me integrate into this new world. Yet, he was wrong about one thing-

None of it could help me where I was now.

I got up to leave and began making my way to the door.

"Is that it, Patrick? You're going to isolate yourself completely, now that you're in a good spot for a change?"

I wanted to say something back to him. I wanted to argue. I turned to say something as I left, but only two words came out.

"You're useless."

I spent the rest of classes in my room and watched out the window. As the crowd slowly began to shrink, I safely made it back out with a destination in mind.

Now back at the school building, I found myself wandering aimlessly through the halls. They were like a maze, and the certain lifts couldn't reach some levels because of way the school had been built. It took me nearly an hour before I stumbled upon the place I'd been looking for- the library.

I made my way inside and began looking through the shelves. At least the selection here isn't as sad as the rest of the place.

I was looking through the mythology section when I was approached by a familiar figure.

"Hey, Horvath! It's Hisao Nakai, from class earlier." He approached me with a calm and friendly demeanor. "I'm sorry about earlier today, I wasn't thinking. If I offended you, please let me rectify it b-"

He noticed my face. I was probably frowning and glaring at him, not even realizing it. I wanted to try to sneak out of the situation. I wanted to say something, anything, that would make him leave me alone. I didn't want to be cruel, I just wanted to be left at peace. Yet instead, my almost immediate answer came out differently.

"Fuck off."

He looked at me a bit shocked at first, and then confused. He looked down at his feet and excused himself with an awkward "R-right, sorry..."

He walked out the door to the library. I wanted to say something softer, but instead I watched as I was finally left alone.

Strange things happen in libraries. In books and movies, detectives solve the case with information from the library. Horror stories start their climax with the protagonist reading an ancient tome or spell in a library. Lovers meet, drugs are sold, and lives are changed, in libraries across literature. As cliche as it sounds, if you were to read a random story, there's a good chance a major plot point might happen in a library.

Perhaps this has always made me drawn to libraries. I practically spent my childhood in them. Maybe I was trying my luck in hopes that something grand might happen and my life would be changed forever.

However, that's not what I had in mind for this visit. This time, I just wanted something to read alone.

I was making my way into a small reading area towards the back when I suddenly stopped just as I had been rounding a corner. Someone was already there.

A girl sat on a large cushion with a book mere inches from her face.

Christ, just get some glasses. And a haircut while you're at it.

Her hair covered nearly half her face. I was staring at her from her left side when she noticed me. As she turned her head, I was shocked to see her face half covered in burns.

Likely realizing I was staring, she suddenly pulled her face away. Despite wanting to be alone, I couldn't bring myself to say anything. I walked over at sat on another cushion across from her and opened my copy of "As I Lay Dying."

I felt a pair of eyes occasionally looking up at me. I found it annoying, and so I raised my eyes to find her looking straight back at me. I wanted to make her leave, to get back the comfort of my lonesomeness. Yet it came out completely differently, with only one small word.

"Hello."

"H-hi..." she said back, in a voice low and timid. I had wanted to say something back, but she stood up and left, just as I had done with Hisao in class

Oh joy, someone hates me as well.

The bitterness of that thought lingered long before the hatred washed it out of my mouth.

I didn't feel like reading anymore. I put my book back and left the library for my room.

I unplugged my alarm clock with the sole intent on sleeping in the next morning. I woke in a sweat with ache pulsating from my leg. I grabbed a few pills and swallow them dry and rolled back over.

Of all things, I couldn't get that girl out of my head. No particular reason, she was just on my mind, I guess. After the pills dulled the pain to a manageable level, I got up and got dressed and make my way to the library.

It only took a mere 30 minutes to get there, and when I did, I was fortunate enough to see exactly who I was looking for.

And sitting with her was Hisao Nakai and a blonde.

I wanted to just nod and move by unnoticed, but the girl in question meekly waved back, an action that caught the attention of Hisao.

My presence was met with an awkward sort of frown and a simple "Hey... need anything?" This caught the attention of the blonde, who raised her head curiously.

"Hisao, who's there?" she asked.

"It's a classmate of mine. Patrick, this is my girlfriend Lilly and our friend Hanako." His voice was dead and flat, clearly not happy to see me.

Hanako... so that's her name?

"Uhm..." I respond, "Patrick Horvath. Pleasure." I extended my hand out before realizing that the blonde was, in fact, blind. I awkwardly pull my hand back a moment later.

Lilly is the next to speak. "And you as well. If you need any assistance around the school, I'm sure Hisao will be more than happy to help you."

"Oh, no," Hisao spoke, "I'm sure he's doing just fine."

"Dear, you really must be more willing to help than that."

"Lilly, it isn't that, it's just-"

"I'm sure he needs something. Go on, show him around a bit!"

I had tried to interject a few times, to politely excuse myself. The two bickered a bit more, and my leg began aching, and I wanted to be alone, and I wanted it to be quiet, and I wanted my leg to stop hurting, all at once, and so my words came out as a sharp, loud-

"Shut up!"

I stood a moment and took a deep breath in. "I don't want your company or to be wheeled around all over the damn place. So if you'd be so kind as to leave me be, I'll excuse myself at once." There it was again- the hate, boiling back up to spill over the top.

It was then that I noticed that Hanako had been absent for most of the conversation. Hisao and Lilly were clearly unhappy now, and so I excused myself to the back of the library.

I sat peacefully on a cushion in the back, lost in the ponderous In Search of Lost Time, when I heard footsteps. I looked over to see Hanako timidly approaching the area, as if she weren't sure if she was allowed to enter.

"It's fine," I said to her. "I'm not going to hurt you."

She looked down as if she doesn't believe me, and said barely above a whisper, "I th-thought you w-w-wanted to b-be alone?"

Oh great... she heard that.

"No, it's ok." I motioned for her to sit down. She obliged and sat across from me and opened her own book.

After a few minutes, I found myself looking over the edges at the girl in front of me. When she isn't so tense, she's very beautiful.

Perhaps I'd gotten lost looking, as I soon had a pair of eyes looking back at me. A deep shade of purple with grey mixed in, slightly covered by her purple hair. Her doll-like look has been completed with a button nose, giving her a sweet, if timid look.

She noticed me staring and hid her face behind a book to keep reading. I followed suit, but soon my curiosity got the better of me and I glanced at the cover of her book.

"The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy."

I was quite familiar with the work myself. A very funny novel, even if a bit odd. She slowly let the book down as she became more engrossed in it. I looked up again when I heard a faint sound.

It was quiet, but I was certain I'd heard it- a short, gleeful giggle. And my eyes were met with a soft smile on the girls face. In mere seconds, my face had flushed red. She must have noticed when she looked up nervously.

Our eyes met once again. This time, the silence was cut with a quick string of words.

"I'vegottogodosomething!"

In nearly a shout, the girl said her remark and dashed out of the room like a spooked rabbit.

I sat stunned for a moment, and a thought occurred to me-

Am I getting myself into something here?