Izumo stood at the front of the room, pink skirt teasing her thighs, and her eyes found the front of the room.
She smiled, feeling that old pinprick from her childhood, and wondered if there was a reason, the boy in the center of the room couldn't stop looking at her, looking as if he'd lost himself in some fantasy world that no one could be a part of.
The middle school girl bit her lip as finally the words rushed through like a pained cry of outrage though not quite as aggressively angry as one of those, just meek, a little lost, and looking for a familial love, "I-I'm Kamiki Izumo. It's a pleasure to meet you."
The teacher smiled, encouragingly at her, "And you may sit, Ms. Kamiki."
Izumo took a deep breath and sat down beside the brown haired kid that had stared at her though looked away, abashed now.
"I'm Kamiki Izumo." She firmly repeated, reminding herself that since it was a new school, a new school year, and that she felt the pain staking crust of loneliness that she should try to make friends.
"I know." The boy spoke up, "I'm Suguro Ryuuji." He frowned, looking away from her, and Izumo felt just a prick of fear of why he seemed so isolated or perhaps not fear, just worry, because she'd felt that look that she saw on his face now.
"What's up?" She's never sure that she'd ever have become even remotely decent at socializing.
"What's it matter to you?" It was bitter, and Izumo knew that tone, and her heart swelled with compassion for him as she pressed closer, gingerly longing to comfort him like how she'd often tried to comfort her sister.
"I know that I'm just a stranger." Her voice came out in a soft rush once the teacher started class, "But I do know what that feels like."
"What what feels like?" He snarls, but he leans closer; his voice coming out in a faint roar anyway to avoid drawing the teacher's attention.
"To feel lonely and abandoned." She decided to say, wondering when she ever became so forward with strangers, but loving the way it felt in her veins.
"I'm not abandoned!" He snapped, just a little too loudly.
The teacher's harsh eyes glared at him as she hissed out a quick punishment, and Izumo felt the guilt dance up her veins, hurting her chest, causing a sharp pain to yank right up it.
She waited until he sat down again and pressed closer once the teacher's back was turned, "Sorry."
"Do you enjoy getting people in trouble?" He fumed, making Izumo nearly reach out to touch his arm; she knew all too well what that level of anger felt like.
"No, but I'm sorry anyway." She wonders if he hears the ache in her voice even as the girl behind them shushed them quietly to not get them in trouble again and to shut them up.
"Do you know what it's like to walk home and see everyone you know and love, dead or dying, or very, very badly hurt, or even to see the fear on their faces, and to know, just know, that you can do nothing to fix it or get rid of the problem?" He rolled his eyes at the shock that marred Izumo's face as she leaned closer, quietly.
"I don't, but I do know what it feels like to walk home and find out my mother is dating a demon and won't spend any time with her kids anymore. She's addicted to it, gluttonous for this kind of messed up reality." She hissed, but it wasn't aggressive like a warning hiss from a stray kitten that doesn't know what else to expect; it was kind of cute.
"Okay, you have a sibling?" The boy next to her asked.
"A younger sister that I have to care for. She's pretty much my only family left." Bon leaned slightly closer, sympathy coating his face.
"I'm sorry about your mom." It was faint and delicate, but it was there.
"Me too." Izumo brushed her hair back and smiled; may be this year she'll have a friend.
He was like her, broken and slowly trying to fix those broken shards, and he was someone that she could trust in time.
She wasn't ready for love or romance or attempting something that falls apart as much as her mother's relationship was tearing her family apart, but one day, she may just be able to love him one day as the time stretches to years, and hearts warm up to love.
Izumo wasn't aware that Bon had first seen her beauty, seen it in the way that she nervously stood at the front of the room, and saw it in her stubbornness; she was kind enough to try to be there for her.
He hadn't paid more attention than that until she spoke, and his heart began to warm; he wasn't sure that he'd be able to handle love any time soon either. The fear of loss clung to his veins much more than anything else now.