Sawada Fuuta sighs, pushing his sandy hair from his face, it was in vain, because a second later he was glaring at his defiant hair once again.

"Ne, ne... That's Dame-Tsuna's otouto, right?"

"Hai, I heard he is weirder than his brother, always ranking things, such a creep,"

Biting his lip, he kept himself from shouting at the perpetrators. Ever since he was in primary, kids we're like this. Even at thirteen, he was still ignored and treated as an outcast. A pencil's shot at his back and the grip on his pencil tightened. Anger pulsed through his veins, but he stubbornly tried to finish his set-work.

'The angle we have to find is h, h is in middle of G and F. This angle, is GIF+h. So if we minus h from'- His trail of though cut off by a paper ball thrown to his skull. Wide Oak eyes flickered up and Fuuta saw Gesso-san, a forced smirk on her face. Fuuta couldn't help the helplessness he felt when staring into her cold, cyan eyes, because the strings of fate seemed to think making his crush, his bully, was tragically romantic. Or, that's what his cousin Federico told him when he confided it to the elder Vongola. Gesso-san gave him a glare, but he saw the way she tightened her grip on her pencil and the thin frown on her face, she didn't really want to bully him and that's why he still liked her. Because behind that bullying façade, was the kinder, level-headed person he met last year. Except, what he's seeing is still cruel, even if forced. Life sucks, he deduces swiftly, before snapping back into reality.

His teeth grit and he picks the paper up, already knowing an insult laid within. It invokes a different kind of anger in him, anger at himself. Scrunching the paper up more, he shoves it in his pocket, then he stands slowly, making sure his anger wasn't evident.

"Sensei, may I go to the restroom?"

His sensei nods, while he swiftly walks to the door, he's tripped by Giglio Nero-san near the exit. Giglio Nero-san laughs at hims shortly. Scrunching his eyes up in exhaustion, Fuuta wordlessly pushes himself from the ground, hurrying out the room. His speed walk increased to a sprint as he nears the boys restroom and he gazes down at the 'kana on the note. It's basically telling him, he's a creep. A dame like his Tsuna-nii. Telling him everything he already knows and furiously, Fuuta rips the paper up, resenting the perfect flow of Bluebell's katakana. Resenting the comparison to his brother, because it just reminds him that he'll never belong, he'll always be the outcast, the adopted child.

Suddenly an idea comes and he has no idea what the idea entails, just that it will help. It literally pops in to his mind, he has no clue what he's doing, he's just following the animalistic instincts from within.

Tugging at his school tie, Fuuta rips it off, unbuttons the top buttons of his white button down. Every taunt rang clear in the brunnets mind, as he wraps the tie around his fingers, then his neck. His thoughts are hazy and all he really knows is that he's angry, so angry at himself, for being such a creep, such a pushover. Each angry thought strikes him harder, his grip on his tie tightens and abruptly his air-ways are cut off. He's not aware of what he's doing. The brunette leans against the stalls cold walls, his sight blurring and his throat convulsing in an odd, uncomfortable way. He tries subconsciously to breathe through his nose. No breath leaves his mouth and it feels relieving, his anger dissipating. Fuuta's lips turn a pale shade of blue and his eyes begin to roll.

Just as abruptly as they'd been closed, his air-ways open and a gasps falls from his lips. Blinking back into reality, Fuuta feels calmer. Steadying his breath, he shakily re-buttoned his school uniform and redone his tie. Struggling to comprehend what he'd just done, all he knows is he feels placid, content. Calmly leaving the stall after his breakdown, he checks the mirrors and decides he looks perfectly fine. Assuring he looks impeccable, he scurries into class.

Too lost in pleasure, he didn't notice the alarmed look Nosaru threw his way, nor said persons intense focus on the glaringly red marks looping Fuuta's neck.


Bathroom trips became a regular thing to Fuuta. As did the red marks and purple bruises on his neck. Not that his family noticed, all he needed to do was wear a scarf and his oblivious mother and brother asked nothing, while his father was barely around enough to remember Fuuta's favourite colour, much less his fashion sense. No teachers said anything, so Fuuta is pretty sure what he is doing is right, even if eating, drinking and sometimes even breathing left his throat hoarse.

While Fuuta fell into his reprieve of self-hate, Nosaru continued to watch the younger Sawada in growing worry. So did Bluebell, she just didn't put things together as simply as the pinkette though. Begrudgingly, Nosaru felt himself wondering what to do with Sawada. He doesn't hate Sawada, he just doesn't like him either, but the disturbing thought of finding his peer dead informed him that something needed to be done.

The class room doors slid close again and Nosaru watches the infuriating smile cross Fuuta's face. It was always the same, Sawada leaves angrily and comes back arrogantly, a self-deprecating smile upon his face. Nosaru keeps watching, seeing the person in front of him aim a paper ball at the walking thirteen year old. Frowning, Nosaru wonders if he was such a forceful bully, Sawada does nothing but discreetly picks the paper up. Again, Nosaru feels unnecessarily angry, the brunette always took the bullying in stride.

Always. For the past month Nosaru had watched him, he never stood up for himself. Never got angry. He was always calm, when he looked anything but calm, he'd disappear to the bathroom, coming back with vivid marks looping his neck. It took Nosaru three weeks and two internet searches to find out what was happening. When he pieced it together, he felt nauseous. He still feels nauseous a week later as he watched Fuuta stroll into their Geometry class. Nosaru bit his lip, realising the only other class with Sawada today is art. Nosaru sighed, 'It's not my business,' he thought, watching others pointedly whisper about his introverted classmate.


Art came and Nosaru tries to focus on his painting, but he knows he's only stalling for when Sawada leaves. Per usual, fifteen minutes into class, Sawada leaves. Sawada's painting ruined, a shame because the night sky he painted is awesome. A student had bumped his elbow on purpose and caused a streak of white to go through the paint, it's beyond saving. Not for the first time, Giglio Nero Nosaru is angry as Sawada calmly excuses himself. Except, a week of suspicion has left him tense and as Sawada strolls out of the class, knuckles white, Nosaru finds himself standing. He mutters an 'excuse me sensei', while leaving and makes sure to bump into the student who messed Sawada's work up. The student falls to the ground, disbelief evident on his face. Not that Nosaru cares.

Nosaru furiously tears down the hallway, skirting to a halt at the boys restroom. He breathes in and his choice made. He opens the door.


"Oi, Sawada! Come out here!"

He screams into the restroom. A clatter comes from the last stall and Nosaru blindly kicks the door open, unprepared for the sight that greets him. Sawad-, no Fuuta kneels in front of him, gun in hand and Nosaru's first thought, is when did he get it? It's answered by the black messenger bag at his feet. The next question is, what do I do? This one isn't so simple, so he follows his instinct and dives down, quickly flinging the gun from the shell-shocked brunnets hand.

"What are you doing here?" Fuuta's voice is scathing, hoarse.

Nosaru glares at the brunnet, hits the gun so it's further away from them and answers gruffly.

"Obviously saving you from being an idiot."

Fuuta glares up at him, mumbling.

"I wasn't going to use it..."

"Ne?... So then why have the gun?"

"..."

Sighing, Fuuta replies, his tear-streaked cheeks against his knees, muffling his voice.

"What?"

"I-I don't know... Okay? I don't know what's going on, all I know is that I'm filled with hate and it hurts. It hurts so much that I can't take it and I think I'm going crazy. Okay! Does that answer your pathetic question!"

Nosaru grimly winced at his peer. Breathing deeply, he sits up and leans against the wall, staring at Fuuta's soft, billowy hair. The restroom is quiet, the only sound is the water that dripped from the taps.

"Why are you even here? You hate me, right, Giglio Nero-san? So what are trying to accomplish?"

This is said in a whisper, the boys still somber.

"I don't hate you," Nosaru said after a long pause, "I admit, I think you're a little weird, but I don't hate you... And I definitely don't want to see you dead."

Fuuta laughed softly, the type of laughter that saddens people.

"It's nice to know, that out of the thousands occupying Namimori, one person doesn't hate me." His voice was mocking.

"You're kaa-san doesn't hate you, neither does Tsunayoshi, Sasagawa-senpai doesn't hate anyone..." Nosaru's voices drew out softly

"I'm adopted, my real parents hated me enough to just abandon me," he admits rather hesitantly, " and it seems I can create miracles then, because I'm sure Sasagawa-senpai doesn't like me."

Nosaru's hand flew to Fuuta's head, and Fuuta glares at his bored, too bored looking to actually be bored, classmate. All he gets back from the pinkette is a grin. The grin widens, before he finally decides to elaborate.

"Baka-Fuuta, just because someone doesn't like you, it doesn't mean they hate you."

"Really? I thought that was exactly what the word means," Fuuta bites back.

There's a silence, before Nosaru starts laughing crazily. He bows down, hand clutching his stomach and tears pool from his pink eyes, before he looks up at the brunette, genuine amusement in his eyes.

"You know what, Fuuta-san? You're interesting, be my friend."

Fuuta's eyes widen and he feels slightly excited and completely stunned. He blinks owlishly and watches as Nosaru continues to smile at him, his grin small and slightly creepy.

"Eh~?"

Fuuta's face is promptly pressed down to the floor, Nosaru's grinning down at him, lightning crackles behind him as he laughs evilly. Sweat drops down Fuuta's face as he sends a skeptical look towards the pinkette. If anything, the skeptical look made his laugh heartier, he looked like some evil anime character.

"Fufufufufufu, I've got it! You're my best friend now, Sawada Fuuta! So if you do dame stuff, then I'll just have to beat you up until you stop! Fufufufufu."

A muffled laugh leave Fuuta's hoarse throat and he feels pretty happy.

"Hai, hai Nosaru-san, can you get off me now?"

Nosaru complies and they leave the room.

And things aren't completely better, but they're changing and that change, it feels... Right.