"If you're Yamaguchi, where's your Gucci?" one.
"Yeah, and where's your team of bodyguards?" two.
"I thought you were a girl." three.
"Why do you drag around that air tank?" four.
"What's the deal with you skipping out on gym class all the time?" five.
"I thought Yamaguchi was a sexy girl, not an ugly, broken boy." six.
Yamaguchi Tadashi hated this. He was always the butt of everyone's conversations. The girls thought of him like a little brother that they needed to protect, and he was fine with that, but the problem was the boys. Teasing him for his disability, teasing him for having shitty lungs, teasing him for being so small and feminine, teasing him for not doing sports. It was all tiring. Sure, it wasn't bad, because he had his ways to ignore them. Now, being in tenth year high school, it was frustrating. The counsellors said that it was just a phase, they would get over teasing eventually. No. No they wouldn't. This was way too much.
He needed something. Someone. Anything. Anyone. His own guardian angel to come swoop in, and rescue him from the life he had now. Someone that could make him feel less bad about his air tank with him twenty four seven. Something that could cure his lungs. Anything.
"I don't think you should do that."
Oh.