The ringing of his alarm clock woke Aoba up, the sound piercing over and over into his skull like like a persistent stabbing blade, until he rolled over with a frustrated sigh and turned the thing off with a slam of his hand. And then he dragged himself out of bed, the sheets still clinging around his body as though the arms of sleep were trying to pull him back into their warmth, and lazily slipped into his school uniform. He frowned at his pale reflection. The weary bags under his eyes were one of the indicators that he hadn't quite caught enough sleep in yet another restless night of twisting and turning beneath the sheets, dreaming in only fragmented scraps. His long blue hair fell around his face in a limp, scruffy mess, and by the look and feel of a slight grease clinging to it, he knew he was in need of a shower, but he didn't care. He quickly ran a comb through it and tied it back in a loose ponytail.
His stomach growled with hunger, but when he searched the fridge for something to eat, his insides felt tight with a nauseating sickness and he decided to skip breakfast. He left for school without a word to Ren or his grandmother, slamming the front door behind him. The school was within walking distance and he slowly made his way beneath the slight mist of rain that scattered upon him, soaking into his hair and clothes. The sky above him was a vast and lifeless canopy of grey, the ground beneath his feet felt as though it was unsteady and uneven, like the rippling surface of the ocean.
The first thing he did upon arriving at school was return to Mink's classroom to collect the supplies he'd left there in his hurry to get away the last time. His stomach knotted as he approached the room, and his hand trembled slightly when he lightly tapped at the door with his knuckles. After a few dreadful seconds that seemed to last forever, a gruff voice called from the other side. "Come in!"
With shaky hands he twisted the door knob and pushed it open. The hinges groaned as though they were in pain, and his stomach seemed to churn, his nerves pulling tightly inside him like wound cord. He didn't really want to face the teacher after what had happened the other day. He wasn't sure if it was fear or embarrassment, but something seemed to be putting his whole body on edge.
"I'm here for my stuff," he said quietly, not even glancing at the teacher who sat at his desk, poring over a small messy pile of papers. "That's fine, Seragaki," his voice was cold, remote, and for some reason it made ice shoot through Aoba's veins. "It's over by your desk,"
Aoba chanced a small peek at the teacher as he made his way across the room. His chin resting upon clasped fingers, Mink was staring at the papers, a deep frown etched onto his face, his brow wrinkled right above where his glasses were perched atop his nose. His hair was down, which was a rarity, tumbling over his shoulders in long brown waves, a lot longer and thicker than Aoba would have expected. In the pale morning light that poured through the large, spacey windows, it seemed to have an auburn sheen running through it. Mink seemed tired, Aoba thought. Like he had barely slept. His eyes seemed dull and weary, shadowed with dark circles, and his usual strong and steady posture was more relaxed, as though the energy had been drained from him. He seemed almost human this way, not like a cold and unfeeling machine.
Mink peered up at him, and for a brief moment their eyes met, and Aoba felt his nerves ping as though they were guitar strings being plucked and swiftly looked away, grabbing his bag and making his way back to the door.
"I'm glad you're back in today," Mink said as he left the room.
"Whatever," Aoba muttered, closing the door behind him.
The rest of the day drifted by unbearably slowly, like a legless bug still trying to crawl along the dirt, until lunch time. Aoba hated this time of the day. The moment when each tick of the clock became a long, drawn out boom, the atmosphere of those around him alive and buzzing as though shot through with electricity, all the excited chatter in anticipation of the bell swarming into his ears like hundreds of tiny flies. He was glad for the break between lessons, but hated when it became an anxious wait to return to the relative safety of a classroom. The ringing of the bell shot through him, and as everyone else poured from the room like stream water rushing through a crevice, he reluctantly lingered behind the main flood of students, slowly gathering his things. Once the room was empty, he slung his bag over his shoulder and stalked out. He'd skipped out on breakfast this morning, and hadn't bothered to pack any lunch, which he started to regret when his stomach began growling. There was enough change in his pockets to buy something from the cafeteria, but the thought of going to such a noisy, crowded area made him feel a little sick. So instead he ended up sitting outside alone, slumped on a bench beneath a tall tree, staring at his phone as he waited for Koujaku to reply to a text he'd sent him while he was bored out of his mind during class.
He was still on the school grounds, he could hear the sound of other students. Talking, laughing, standing in their little circles, the girls huddled close and gossiping, the guys playing around like children. He used to be a part of groups like that, used to stand around during breaks and chat away without a care in the world, Sei more often than not by his side, nodding shyly, flashing his gentle smile. Aoba had been the sociable one of the pair, the one who made friends and went out and did things. Sei was more quiet, introverted. He rarely spoke unless someone else initiated the conversation, and even then his voice was soft and low. That's why he clung to Aoba a lot, because of how timid he was, but Aoba didn't mind. He missed that presence, almost like a hand on his back, offering him support and guidance. Sometimes he thought Sei was the only reason he had that confidence, and now that he was gone it had been taken away too. He could no longer bare the thought of being around people like he used to.
"Yo," a casual voice pulled his attention away from his phone, and he looked up to see Noiz.
"What do you want?" he asked coldly, instantly staring back down at the illuminated screen.
"I'm sorry for the other day," the blond muttered, taking a seat next to Aoba.
"Whatever," he responded, rolling his eyes at the apology. He couldn't tell whether he was being sincere at all, Noiz was one of those people that were difficult to read. Sort of like an enigma, his behaviour and actions were far from normal, he didn't seem to fit into any standard mold, he wasn't part of a clique or a club. But unlike Aoba, it was more out of a lack of interest rather than fear of being around anyone.
"Can you leave me alone now?" Aoba really didn't want to deal with him, or anyone else at the moment for that matter. The apology was probably just a farce anyway, another one of the idiots stupid jokes, part of some bigger scheme. Noiz had that suspicious aura around him sometimes, his green eyes deceptive, his demeanor shifty. He was definitely hiding something. Besides, he was always messing around. Pulling Aoba's hair, grabbing his bag, moving his things about. It didn't seem like he wa ever doing it out of spite, there wasn't a real hint of malicious intent behind it, he seemed to think it was all fun and games. It just wasn't very fun for Aoba.
"I heard some guys from our class talking about you" Noiz stated bluntly, dismissing Aoba's request to be left in peace.
Aoba glanced over at him before quickly looking away. "I don't care," he said defensively, trying to douse the slight spark of curiosity. Whatever they had been saying, it probably wasn't nice, so he'd be better off not knowing about it.
"Some of them say you're gay," Noiz said, his pierced lips twitching into a slight smirk
"W-what?" he sputtered, a little stunned. It took moment for those words to sink in, and when they finally did, he felt his stomach drop, as though it was suddenly weighed down with lead. He clenched his fists by his sides, his arms beginning to tremble, an embarassed heat pouring into his face. How could they know? How could anyone possiby know? He searched his mind for some sort of answer, his thoughts racing through his head in an overwhelming flood. But there was nothing he could think of that would give anyone that sort of impression. He'd hidden it so well, he knew he hadn't slipped up.
Until he recalled all the times he'd held hands with Koujaku. It was something they had always done, something that seemed as normal as waking up in the morning, as breathing during the day. It was just natural to him, to both of them. But maybe in the eyes of strangers who didn't understand, it wasn't normal. It was odd, it was different. Two grown men didn't normally hold hands like that, did they?
"I knew it," Noiz said with a triumphant grin, those cat like green eyes narrowing on him. He felt trapped under that gaze, cornered like a rodent about to be pounced on by a vicious predator.
"Go away," he said quietly, lowering his gaze to the ground.
"It's not-" Noiz began to speak, but Aoba interrupted him before he could finish.
"Fuck off," he spat. He couldn't bear to hear another word, couldn't bear to let Noiz speak about it anymore. The brat was just here to torment him, and as usual he was letting his words get under his skin like blades, allowing himself to feel upset and angered. Aoba didn't want to discuss his sexuality, certainly not with someone who constantly gave him hassle anyway. He was still struggling to come to terms with the fact he wasn't interested in women. He knew deep down there was nothing wrong with it, but still he couldn't help but feel like an misfit, an outsider trying to look in on something he could never really have. When he saw couples walking hand in hand, heard guys talk about the girls they liked or their girlfriends, it always sent a pang of something cold through him, a pressure between his ribs that he couldn't quite comprehend. He would never have that, he would never understand that, and it stung a little.
He abruptly stood up and stormed off, more flinging his feet repeatedly into the concrete slabs rather than actually walking. It felt good to feel them collide with the ground, to feet the dull ache of the impact spread all the way up his legs from the tips of his toes. Like he was relieving some of the pent up rage from within him, stomping it into the dirt. Trying to hold back the tears that stung the backs of his eyes, he began typing another text message to Koujaku. The only living person he had told his secret to, the only person he could still talk to about it. 'I need to talk to you' he typed. He was about to hit send when he collided with something and his phone slipped from his hands, clattering to the ground. "Fuck," he swore through gritted teeth, stumbling backward to see an open door before him, slightly baffled at how he'd managed to walk face first into it. Then someone tall peered around from behind, cold eyes zoning in on him like a killer marking his target.
Mink. He felt cold fingers trace his spine as the teacher frowned down at him, raising an eyebrow. "Watch where you're going. And watch your language, Seragaki."
"Whatever. Sorry," he mumbled, leaning down to pick up his phone, ignoring the teacher that loomed over him. He noticed a fracture on the screen, spanning out from the top corner in a map of spidery cracks. "Shit," he spat, scooping it up to analyse it closer, his brow furrowed in dismay. Mink, who had been walking away, suddenly turned on him again. "Language. I won't give you another warning," he said firmly, his face hardening, eyes narrowing into that signature deadly glare that usually terrified students. But it didn't terrify Aoba this time. Instead he found himself glaring back, and with a suddenness like an icy gale cutting through him, the world around him became cold and still, a heaviness falling upon him as though his chest was being crushed by iron bars.
Why is it always me? Why am I the one that always get punished? As soon as the thoughts crossed his mind, he felt rage flare within him, like sparks igniting into a roaring flame, sweeping through his blood. Everything else seemed to fade out into a white mist, and all he could see was that damn teacher glaring at him, feeling the disdain and the pity in that frozen gaze. Mink was so damn arrogant, so damn full of himself, always looking down on him with that stupid glare, putting on an act and pretending he cared when in reality all he wanted was to make fun of him like everyone else. "Fuck you," those words seemed to escape from his lips as though pushed out by his anger. His voice seemed cold and distant, even to his own ears, as though he was listening to a recording of himself rather than the real thing.
Mink's gaze seemed to go empty. As black and cold as a starless night sky. "Detention. Now," he said, his voice a low growl. Aoba felt his body go stiff, as though he was bound in place by some invisible force. Thorns seemed to prick beneath his skin, every hair on his body shooting up with the fear that bit down his spine. There was something hidden in the depths of those eyes, an endless darkness that seemed to trigger some blaring alarm in the back of his mind, some instinct telling him the man before him was dangerous, and he knew he'd taken a step too far this time.
But that look only darkened his feature for a brief moment, and then it was gone as soon as it came. "Now!" Mink repeated, raising his voice. Aoba flinched and took a step back, his heart almost leaping from his chest. He shook his head violently, his messy blue hair falling over his face. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to be alone with him. For just the briefest of moments he had glimpsed something twisted and inhuman within his teacher, and he knew hidden beneath that stone faced mask that Mink wore, someone, something seriously terrible lived. Just like himself, a darkness had been etched upon Mink's soul.