Motohama stumbled down the stairs to the first floor of his home, eyes struggling to stay open. Entering a sparsely decorated hallway, the young lad pushed himself along the wall to his bathroom, his fumbling in the dawn light the only sound within the two story house. As soon as he entered, he started lazily tugging his clothes off before stepping into the shower, leaving the door open. He clutched at one knob in a ritual he did every morning, and turned it all the way to the left.
"AHH!" Motohama gasped, the freezing water shocking him into wakefulness. He immediately turned the water off and leaned his head against the wall, panting.
"Hell of a way to wake up." He muttered, completing his morning ritual.
Eggs hissed as they hit the stove top, Motohama stirring them with a spatula. Satisfied for the moment, he left them to cook as he opened the fridge and retrieved a carton of milk. Grabbing a glass, he filled it and set it on the dining room table next to a pair of chopsticks before returning to check on his eggs. After doing so, he retrieved a package of frozen sausages from the freezer, placed a few on a paper towel, and put them in the microwave. The boy returned to his eggs, turned the stove off, and gently pushed the yellow protein onto a paper plate with his spatula, at which time the microwave beeped. He added the sausage links to his plate and plodded back into the dark dining room.
Issei sat down with his plate and picked up his chopsticks.
"Itadakimasu." He said into the empty room, splitting them.
Motohama quietly walked into the school with a book covering his face so nobody saw who he was.
When he went inside the classroom he was relieved that he was the first one to be there.
He sat down on his desk putting his head down trying to be not existent.
It all was working together as he was enjoying his little nap.
"Shinya-san?"
Or trying to, at any rate. Calculating that the energy expended in lifting his head from his desk was much too wasteful, Motohama merely turned his head to the voice.
An extremely handsome bishounen stood before him, much to the evident shock of everyone in the room. He had a pleasant smile plastered across his face. And though it was strange for someone he had never interacted with before to speak to him, Motohama's internal clock was telling him that it was only around lunch time. Although he hated this man before, the new Motohama simply ignored him.
Far too early to socialize.
So he reburied his head in his arms. The young man was sure that if it were important— unlikely—it would come up again as he had better things to worry about aka a certain purple haired girl.