A dark room. A small area, but big enough for someone to live. The lights flicked on exposing an apartment. The walls of the apartment were covered head to toe in hentai pictures. Girls with huge breasts wearing bikinis, smiling, were all staring at the homeroom teacher from the walls.
"W-What the fuck is goin' on..?" His voice felt slurred, but was he drinking?
Morooka looked at the ground to find empty instant ramen bowls littering the carpet. He attempted to pull himself forward, only to find that his hands were bound with some kind of tough cloth. Slightly hungover, he looked up at a shadow. The shadow looked back at him, meeting his eyes head-on. The eyes held death, they held loneliness, they held madness. The shadow stepped forward, exposing himself, smiling coldly, he whispered,
"It's going to be okay... It will all go away soon..." The boy inched toward Morooka, sitting on his lap almost casually. He pet the teacher, right on his comb-over, grazing his fingers over it as if fixing it to perfection.
"Get offa me, you damn asshole!" The statement came out much more slurred and quiet than Morooka had hoped, Kubo didn't flinch in the slightest. In fact, he grinned and wrapped his arms around the teacher's neck. He was a boy. She was a girl. Can I make it anymore obvious? He was a punk. She did ballet. What more can I say? He wanted her. She'd never tell. Secretly she wanted him as well. And all of her friends
Stuck up their nose. And they had a problem with his baggy clothes. He was a skater boy, she said, "See ya later, boy." He wasn't good enough for her. She had a pretty face but her head was up in space. She needed to come back down to earth. Five years from now, she sits at home feeding the baby, she's all alone. She turns on TV and guess who she sees? Skater boy rockin' up MTV. She calls up her friends. They already know. And they've all got tickets to see his show. She tags along, stands in the crowd. Looks up at the man that she turned down.