"You're trying to keep it just our secret…"
Class ended rather quickly, and you were surprised when the bell rang, signaling the change of classes. All around you, students got up and chatter erupted as conversations began simultaneously.
You got to your feet, keeping your eyes down on your books. According to your schedule, you had history next. The classroom was located on the other side of the building. Given your five minutes to get there, you would have to speed-walk through the congested halls to arrive on time.
Well, hey, look at the bright side. It's a good opportunity for exercise.
You cursed that inner voice, the one that spoke with a malicious tone. Even though you weren't really made fun of anymore by students, the voice never failed to belittle you.
"(L/n), what have you got next?"
A friendly hand landed on your shoulder. Startled, you gasped and jerked backward, ripping your shoulder away.
Yamamoto's smile grew a little helpless. "Sorry, did I scare you?" he apologized. "I was only wondering what class you've got next."
Heart hammering, you took a moment to regain your voice. You knew you were jumpy. It was weird; you were degrading your appearance by acting this way. Was there someone who would target you, because they found your jumpiness amusing?
You blinked a couple of times. Cleared your throat and, with slightly shaky hands, reached into your pocket to pull out your crumpled schedule. "Ah, history," you read. "In 267."
"Nice! I'm headed there as well. Hey, we should go together!"
"No, that's okay…"
"Come on, (l/n). It'll be fun." Yamamoto was smiling even bigger than before, doing his best to reassure you.
Although his friendliness was a reluctantly welcome change, it was a little pushy. "It's fine," you said, regaining your composure. You ran your fingers through your perfectly styled (h/c) locks, absently fluffing the strands out. "I'll go myself."
But Yamamoto hadn't listened. What's worse, he had called someone out. "Tsuna, Gokudera," he said, "(l/n)'s got history with us."
Ice flooded your innards. Don't tell me…Yamamoto's friends with Hayato?
The dreamy-eyed brunette was walking over, his books tucked under one arm. "We should hurry," he said. "We're going to be late."
"(L/n)'s got history with us," Yamamoto repeated.
The brunette looked at you. His chocolate eyes were warm. You found his hesitant smile a little charming. "Really? That's great. I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi, by the way."
"Hi," you said curtly, with a nod to match. Tsuna seemed like the type bullies usually preyed on: small, slender, delicate-looking for his age and gender. Maybe knowing a guy like him wouldn't be too bad. But you had no plans to get familiar with Yamamoto and his group. After all, things had a way of biting your butt.
"We should really get going," Tsuna said again. He turned to call over his shoulder, "Gokudera-kun, come on!"
"A moment, Juudaime," came the reply.
And then Gokudera stepped into your line of vision.
"Let's go," he said, addressing the two males. He acted like you weren't even part of the picture; it was as though you weren't there. Even though that should have satisfied you, it had the opposite effect of irritating you to no end.
"All right," said Tsuna, and he started out the classroom. Gokudera trailed after him, walking at a lazy pace, his books set comfortably under his arm and against his hip.
Yamamoto motioned for you to follow. As much as you didn't want to, you figured that safety was in numbers. Wait, that didn't work—not if Gokudera was an integer.
Aside from that, though, they knew Namimori High better than you did. You couldn't risk getting lost again. So you gathered your things and scuttled after the boys.
Gokudera led the way, weaving through student traffic and shoving past jams with a lowered shoulder. "Move it," he snapped to the unlucky ones who got in his path. Occasion he accented his words with a brush of his arm.
Tsuna reprimanded him from time to time with a soft, "Gokudera-kun." You took note of the familiarity. Were they blood brothers? Or just really good friends? The Gokudera you remembered was cold-hearted and callous, with a quick temper and nasty words. Especially nasty words…
It was as the four of you were walking down another corridor when Gokudera finally addressed you.
"Why are you following us, woman?" he demanded.
You couldn't respond quickly enough, and he closed his eyes haughtily. "Tch."
"She's got history with us, apparently," Tsuna explained.
"Oh, that's right," Yamamoto said. "(L/n)'s from Italy. Gokudera, think maybe you know her?"
Did Gokudera know you?
Did Gokudera know you?
"Of course not. Why would I?"
His words were like cold water splashed onto your face.
You drilled your eyes into the back of his uniform. Tried unsuccessfully to shoot laser beams too, while you were at it. So maybe Gokudera didn't remember you, after all. That was a good thing, right?
They say ninety-five percent of the time, bullies don't even remember their victims…
Here was a prime example of that statement, yet…
If Gokudera wanted to play that game, you would, too.
You spoke through gritted teeth. "I'm (l/n) (y/n). Nice to meet you."
He grunted noncommittally.
Screw you, Hayato.