MISHIMA LISA

The floorboards are wet from droplets of water, creating a small puddle as seconds tick past.

A hush envelopes the classroom as the teacher introduces the boy (Hisami Touji), leaning away from him with her notebook up as if to shield herself from his contagious grin. A smile like the sun, that everyone has to shield themselves from.

The hush ebbs, and then there's muffled laughter and quiet comments being tossed about. Lisa ducks her head, stares hard at her hands and waits for the moment to pass.

"Jambo!" the boy yells energetically, unconcerned, waving an arm in the air.

Energetic. That's a good adjective for the teen, who appears to perpetually be on some kind of sugar high. He's rocking back and forth, unable to stand still. His wet sneakers squeak against the floorboards. Lisa winces at the grating sound, shoulders hunching as a girl near her whispers, "Isn't that him?"

The pack of girls surrounding her — pack, as if they are starving wolves, looking for something to entertain them; that something being Lisa and her misfortune — all laugh daintily behind their hands, but their palms cannot hide their bloodthirsty eyes.

The girl next to her, Satomi, leans in. "Look, he's in our class, Lisa."

Her hands clench on her desk, and she keeps her gaze on them, her nail beds that have been bitten down over time. Much like herself, she thinks. Weak, feeble; easy picking. Lisa never puts up a real fight when teeth clamp down on her. The bullying is a way of life, now.

Her teacher's voice breaks through her thoughts. "Hmm, there's an empty seat behind Mishima Lisa. You can sit there. Mishima, raise your hand."

The giggling rears its ugly head. "Yeah, Lisa, raise your hand," Satomi urges, and the appendage trembles, spasms.

"Ah, there's no need for that!" The squeak of sneakers, heading her way. Lisa can't help it; she looks up, almost reflexively.

A wide grin, blinding her. Equally bright eyes. And they're looking right at her. She realizes this much too late, and with a flinch, she finds her fingers captivating once more.

Hisami Touji doesn't laugh at her. He's too busy humming under his breath as he sits down. His pants squelch each time he shifts in his chair, causing laughter to erupt, but he doesn't seem to mind that they're laughing at him. Instead he sets his dry bag atop his desk, fiddling with zips. She can see all this from the corner of her eye if she strains hard enough.

But then the lesson begins, and Lisa has to pay attention, or at least pretend that she is.

Behind her, Hisami Touji continues to hum.

A/N:

After the next chapter, this story will, for the most part, divert from the show and be properly AU. Twelve and Nine will be featured next, with Twelve's point of view.

Thanks goes out to TheRoseShadow21 for their review! Everyone, please do continue to favourite, follow, and review!