When he is older and trying to learn maths, there sits a girl in the row behind him. Now, Luffy doesn't really not get along with anyone. Not unless they're mean, and she doesn't even talk to him, so he truthfully has no opinion on her.

Not until later, that is.

Not until she complains of not knowing what the teacher's on about, when she has problems understanding it, and is just too lazy to try. Not until she moans and complains and talks back and blames him for her faults and he feels-

He feels-

Hands clench around his pen as the oil curls in his ears, slime liquefied into a gaseous state, and he can feel his inhales holding, like he's trying to tame back his rage by not breathing. His throat feels clogged, and Luffy can't even hear what they're saying anymore. "Shut up-,"

The words wing free of his mouth before he's even realising he's said them, and once the first word escapes, the rest follow, a game of catch me if you can that only makes his anger grow.

"Shut up!" His palms slam the table, chair smashing into the desk behind him, and he turns, gaze narrowed in a glare to see the shock on her face. "Why do you expect everything to be so simple? Why do you expect everything to be handed to you on a silver platter?"

Wide, wide eyes, but he's not stopping now. Not now that he's started, not now that he can see her freeze in the face of his offense.

"It's not his fault that you're not trying hard enough to understand, and it's not his fault that you can't even apply yourself a little bit!" His chest heaves, the air he stopped before pulling like the tide in his chest and making everything in his body move with it, "What gives you the right to call someone an idiot when you don't even try?! Don't shame someone for their work when you can't even be bothered enough to do your own!"

"I'm three times dumber than you'll ever be, but I know as soon as I understand this I'm gonna get higher marks than you ever will because I'm trying!" His stomach is a whiplash of sick feelings, and his bones feel like they're humming; buzzing and snapping and popping like fire and anger is in every vein of his body.

His hands are curled into fists, ready to lash out and hurt, but even as he tries to rip them apart with his words instead, he can't stay in there any longer.

Can't, can't, CAN'T-!

The door slams shut behind him, a cannon bang in the silence that follows after his outburst, and he throws himself at the metal bag racks. The impact in his stomach drives the breath from him, and he grips the wire, fingers biting back as the metal tries to leave its mark.

Taut pressure in his limbs makes him push away again, and he moves, knowing that if he stops, the buzz in his skin will only get worse. It's like his body is a rubber band, stretched to breaking point and held, and he's waiting to snap, waiting for his flesh to settle back over his bones instead of holding rigid and strained. His arms are swinging in rough movements, and the only reason he hasn't punched anything is because he's caused enough trouble; caused enough trouble here, he can't get in any more.

Doesn't want to be seen as uncontrollable, even when he can't tape down and clasp the fury that froths and bubbles in his blood. His knees collapsed beneath him, dropping him down onto the cold cement in the corner, and there are still bumblebee wings buzzing in his head but for now he holds them in with his scarred hands alone, curling in on himself and letting his blunt nails scrape pink paths across the flesh of his arms and his legs.

A light click follows him through the maze his mind is building to distance himself from his anger, and he stops pulling at his skin, instead trying bite through it, no sound, no sound, holding his body still.

Stay still, stay silent, that's the rule, stay still, stay silent, and they'll go away.

If you look like you're fine, they won't touch you.

A cold weight rested on his shoulder, and the wrong came back, a tidal wave that swept him off his feet, and the back lash made him move.

"Don't touch me!" He shouted, desperate; pained – a cacophony of white noise filling his head and clinging to his thoughts, buzz buzz buzz, clogging his mind and making him react on instinct.

Movement is what he registers first; throwing out his arm to get them off, and he only just reins it all back in, taming down the fire that makes him lash out.

Vivi pulls away from him, shocked and hurt at the fist that grazed her cheek, and Luffy-

He caves in on himself like a collapsing bridge, strong until the moment when it all seemed to matter.

"Don't," he pleaded again, pinching his nails on his skin in dragging falters to try and pull out his nerves and make it stop, but now the words are there again and they won't halt their march. "Don't-,"

Vivi's hands are cool on his own, tugging them persistently away from his legs, and she brings him forwards till he can lean against her shoulder, letting him heave dry breaths; the only escape he'll let himself have, when the tears are something that no-one should ever see but the mirror.

"Sorry-,"He mumbles out between hiccups, letting those words join the ones that escaped him before, "Sorry-I didn't-,"and Vivi just strokes his back, letting him dig his nails into her shoulder blades and murmuring quiet nonsense in his ear.

Sorry.

AN: whispers okay so I know that this is really sad but I pinky-promise that it gets better?

Thanks to the gorgeous Pugslover, iiILurvePancakesii, Love in fire and the wonderful Frostbert for all your reviews! 3 I know I've said this before, but I'll say it again; when you guys review, even if it's just a simple 'good job', it makes me feel fantastic and my day a 100% more wonderful. :3