Chapter 1: I'm still unpopular

"Are these youthful days finally coming to an end?"

Dangerous, terrifying thoughts raced through Tomoko's lazy mind. Both thoughts of the future and regrets of the past haunted her like spirits as she scratched desperately at the coffin in which her ambition had been lain to rest so many years prior.

But ambition, sadly, remained dead, and would remain so. Even in her last days of high school, Tomoko had still remained undecided as to which direction she would go in life. Teacher, doctor, salesperson, and shopkeeper all reeked of effort, labor and early mornings—of which Tomoko could never tolerate. And her childhood dream of "arms-dealer" seemed to be a bit out of reach—considering she had still never even seen a real gun, let alone fired or owned one.

"I guess that leaves me with…" Tomoko pondered, her head facedown on her desk. "A porn artist. Or maybe a housewife." She chuckled. "As if anyone would have me."

"Miss Kuroki!" the teacher suddenly scolded. Tomoko sat up in panic.

"What?!" she cried. The class snickered

"Why don't you try to solve the problem on the board—considering you know this material so well that you can afford to sleep through my lectures."

"I-I-I…" she stuttered. Panic began to set in. Her hand shook—slowly at first, but then rapidly. Her chest tightened up.

"What is the answer, Kuroki?"

"I-I…" she looked down at her notebook. Her eyes began to water. Her social anxiety burned a hole in her very being—and she wished nothing more than to alleviate the pain of the experience with some much-needed solitude. Trapped, she began to feel light-headed.

"I-I just haven't worked it all out yet," she stammered. The teacher raised an eyebrow.

"Then work it out," he said. The class suddenly looked away from her, as she began to awkwardly scribble out some equations. Tears fell.

However, suddenly, a loud noise was heard just outside the hallway. It was as though a long plank of wood had been dropped, and had slapped the tile floor violently. Everyone in the room jumped.

The teacher went to investigate—and no sooner did the person behind her stand up and leave a folded piece of notebook paper on her desk. Since the figure sat in the back seat closest to the wall, by the time Tomoko turned to see who it was, the person was already gone.

The teacher came in, a bit confused.

"Who's chemistry book is this?" he said, holding it up. "It looks like it may have fallen out of someone's bag when they were walking."

Tomoko grabbed the note, and quietly opened it under her desk.

Rate laws are easy. The answer is k[A]2[B]1

Pay attention next time, Miss Kuroki.

She read the note once more, unable to believe her eyes. Who was this person? How did they know I was struggling so badly? Did they make that distraction for me?

"It's mine," she heard one of the students say. She looked to the front of the classroom, where she saw a boy with long, shaggy black hair accepting the book. His eyes were covered, and his complexion was paler than even hers.

"How did you manage to drop this all the way in the middle of the hallway in the middle of class?"

The boy remained silent.

"Thank you," he finally said, politely bowing. Tomoko's heart palpitated as he took his seat behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him closing the second door of the classroom. Did he throw his book out there so he could give me the answer?!

"Miss Kuroki," the instructor said. "Do you have an answer or not?"

"Um…um…k[A]2[B]1?" she said, reading directly from the note.

The instructor cocked his head at her.

"Well, Miss Kuroki, it seems as though I owe you an apology for calling you out. That was a very difficult problem you just solved."

Stares rolled in once more—this time, of confusion.

"Th-Thank you." She replied.

Feeling the pressure alleviate, Tomoko began to assess the damage. She realized that her nails had cut deep into her palms, and she was soaked in perspiration. In addition, she had slightly—thankfully unnoticeably—urinated herself in fear.

As the class ended, and the students got out for lunch, she turned to see who this mystery person was—but there was no one in the chair. The door to the hallway was opened, and the person's backpack was there. But he wasn't.

Tomoko sat down and began to eat her lunch—alone as usual. As she did, she overheard conversations about the "Chem class event".

"Who was that guy?"

"I feel bad I don't know his name. He's been in our class since we were first-years."

"No way—was he that kid who used to be fat and ugly?"

"I think so. But he looks better now."

"I think he's kind of creepy."

"No, he's cute…in his own sort of way."

"Is he that guy who reads all the time in the library—the one who reads really weird books and stuff?"

"Yeah that's him."

"I thought he was a creep too."

"Doesn't he spar with the martial arts club too?"

"Wait is he that guy who knocked out Shingo?"

"That was him!?"

Tomoko could barely stomach her food as she listened—unsure of whose voice belonged to whom—and even less sure of the authenticity of their words. Through it all, she knew that at any given time, several people were looking her way, expecting some sort of explanation. She wasn't sure what parts they saw, and what parts they didn't. Truly, she was just as confused as they were.

Tomoko snapped the lid shut on her lunch and shook her head. The room went silent for a moment, anticipating her movement, then returned to normal.

The rest of the day went by terribly slow. Tomoko received stares and whispers the entire day—somehow the news had spread quickly that "that weird kid that beat up Shingo saved that weird girl in Chem class". Tomoko did her best to ignore them as she attended her remaining classes.

The bells eventually rang, signifying the beginning of Christmas break: a time for most to play karaoke and eat food and be with their families—but for Tomoko, a time to sleep and play videogames.

As Tomoko exited the building—her face thoroughly immersed in her cell-phone—a cold breeze blew through her. She shuddered, and pulled her arms closer to her body, lowering her phone for a fateful second just long enough so that her unfortunate eye would catch a tall figure. She only caught the glimpse of his eye before he was out of sight.

Tomoko stood, dumbfounded. It would be a long while before she saw him again. But who was he? Why did he save her? There were so many questions—and right before break too…

Surely, the anticipation would destroy her.

Diary of a Mojyo: Dec 21

Dear diary,

Today, a really strange thing happened. A guy—a real one this time—saved me in Chemistry class. I think he threw his book out into the hallway to make a distraction, then he wrote me the correct answer. I'm super confused…I don't even know him.

Maybe I'll tell Yuu and Komi about this, and see what they think—if they even believe me.

The anticipation is going to kill me I think.

Anyways, I'm off for break now. I suppose that I should try to relax a little bit. I'm so tired after all of this work.

Goodnight.