Author's Note: I suppose I should have said this in Chapter 1, but I don't own Homestuck, Andrew Hussey does. Insert more legal stuff here. Plot is all mine. Please review, as this is my first time publishing something. Enjoy Chapter 4: A Child Of Insecurity And Loathing

Walking into 1st Hour Algebra 13 minutes late, Karkat mumbled his excuse to the teacher, some attractive woman with shoulder-length black hair, and took a seat in the fourth row of desks. Glancing around the room, he saw that while the walls were a bright, pure white, the teacher evidently made an attempt to make this room her home. There were posters detailing various algebraic graphs and functions, as well as a large cutout of the Betty Crocker spoon. Finally opening his ears, he heard his classmates conversing with one another. Guess today really is screw-around day.

He glanced at his desk and saw that it was already populated with a number of items. The one on top was obviously the course syllabus, but what the hell were all those other things? Taking a cursory glance at the syllabus, he saw that the teacher's name was Mrs. Crocker. Fascinating. That would explain the giant Betty Crocker spoon on the wall. Now in all too much pain, Karkat's brain decided to shut down until the end of class.

He was jolted awake by the tolling of the bell, 5 long, dolorous strokes. Groaning, he peeled his head from his desktop and got up to leave. "Wait just one moment there," Mrs. Crocker called from her desk, "I need your name to put into the seating chart."

"Karkat Vantas" he muttered, before leaving to get to 2nd Hour Study Hall. Which just so happened to be all the way across campus. Even walking as fast as he could bear, Karkat barely made it into the room before the same five strokes marked the beginning of class. The teacher at the front didn't even introduce himself, just launched straight into a speech, "Alright, this being study hall, we don't have any class work, but I do expect you to use your time wisely throughout the year…"

Karkat stopped paying attention to the droning teacher and instead, made his right arm a pillow, flipped up his hood, and went to sleep again. Or, at least he tried to. The person behind him decided it would be a good idea to get his attention by poking him in the side. Which just so happened to be where he had NINE FUCKING LETTERS CARVED INTO HIS DAMN FLESH!

The prod made Karkat jump, pain once again nearly dragging him under the surface. He twisted around, to glare at the person who poked him, only to see… "Oh, great, it's Miss Meddle In Other People's Business!"

"You know, I have done nothing to antagonize you. Why do you insist on being so rude all the time? I was simply attempting to help." The soft-spoken Kanaya replied.

"No, you were sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. I told you before, I don't need you hovering over me like a mother hen!" Karkat was nearly shouting at this point, anger turning his face red and fear sucking the color out of it just as fast.

Kanaya simply went on talking, "Earlier today in the gym, why did you run away? The staff couldn't find you anywhere."

"I- that's none of your business! How many times do you have to be told to leave me alone!?" This is bad. Really bad. Soon she'll be asking questions about home, or even worse, wanting to walk me home or something. I have to get her to stop this! "K-Kanaya, you don't need to worry about me. I'm f-fine."

"No, you're most definitely not alright. Your face is whiter than the walls in this room, you're twisted in a way that your broken rib is being compressed, you're stuttering, so you must be afraid of something, and your eyes are unfocused and glazed over. You aren't well."

Quivering in terror, Karkat tried to sound as calm as possible, "I am a-absol-lutely fine. Never been b-better. Now leave me alone." He turned back around, twitching from the pain of his head and rib.

Now sounding absolutely stricken, Kanaya stated, "Well, if you won't put any concern into your own well-being, I guess the onus falls on me." She stood up, "Also, by the way, what's your name?"

"My name is worth less than the dirt on the bottom of your shoes, Miss Meddlesome."

Kanaya sounded close to tears now, "How can you talk about yourself like that? Every single person is worth more than the entire world! And, you didn't even answer my question. Why is it so hard to tell me your name?"

Karkat stood up and looked at her. This drew no attention as half the class was meandering around the room. Kanaya had tears sparkling in her bright green eyes, looking like tiny emeralds. She stood head and shoulders above him, but he was past caring, "You talk to me like I am someone. Like I'm someone worth knowing. Someone worth your time. But I'm not. I am NOBODY! You hear me? I am not worth the precious minutes you've wasted on me. Go talk to someone worthy of existence!"

Karkat watched as Kanaya slumped into her chair and buried her face in her hands. Unsurprisingly, he didn't feel a shred of remorse. He felt no emotion, only a cold, hard knot in his chest. He sat down and waited through the rest of study hall, dozing on and off. When class ended, Kanaya was already gone. Good.

KANAYA P.O.V.

Kanaya just looked at him, a five-foot tall 13 year old standing in a posture that anyone could recognize. It was the posture of someone who had given up in every way imaginable. "W-what was done to you? Why are you like this?" she choked out. She felt hot tears spill out from her eyes, and her heart felt constricted. She tried to say more, but she just choked on her throat. Kanaya sat back at her desk, hiding her face in her hands. It was obvious that something was going on with him, and she was determined to remove that from his life. Strange. I don't even know his name and I'm sitting in the middle of study hall bawling my eyes out for him. Well, one thing is for certain, he needs me.

Slowly, she regained control of her emotions, packing them back into her soul. She studied the sleeping boy in front of her, so obviously in unbearable physical and emotional torment. Kanaya laid a hand on the unnamed boy's back, right between his shoulder blades, in an attempt to give him some measure of comfort. She felt his instantaneous reaction: his entire body tensed, going on "high alert". Strangely, the back of his hoodie was wet. Soaked actually. Curious, she removed her hand to inspect the liquid. As she turned her palm towards her, she recoiled in shock and horror. Her hand was crimson with sticky blood.

She quickly reached into her bag and got out a bottle of hand sanitizer and a small packet of tissues. She vigorously cleaned her hands and meticulously wiped the blood off her hands. Then, she got up out of her seat and glanced around. They were sitting in the back of the class, and no one was looking at them. Carefully, she stepped forward to the boy's desk. With surgical precision, she removed his hood and started lightly probing for a wound.

She found it within seconds, seeing as half of his head was swollen up, though hidden by his beautiful, shiny black hair. Is this why no one found him? It's certainly why his eyes were unfocused and glazed over, but this is seriously a life-threatening injury. Once again, she felt tears well up in her eyes as she contemplated what kind of pain the thin, short boy in front of her had been dealing with. He's strong. He didn't once even show a sign that he was in pain. And he is going to classes with a cracked skull? I have got to get to the bottom of this.

She felt the young man stir in his seat, so she replaced his hood, gathered her possessions, and left the room right as the bell tolled. I need to report this to guidance. Something's going on with him and- oh, no, I can't report it! He still wouldn't tell me his name! He sure is paranoid, and scared to death to open up his heart. Kanaya glanced at her schedule: 3rd hour: Adv. Social Studies with a Mr. Strider. Well, one thing's for certain: that boy has got to get some help. I'm afraid he's going to do something bad. I need to teach him about living.