#a place on the social order that is low low rung but not thrown away altogether like villains

[codenamesazanka]

I always thought this was Toga (disguised as Camie) simply talking about her ‘disappearing’ technique, but I realize - this could be applied to her life pre-crime.

Hiding herself - her true self - from everyone. Stop thinking for herself, think of nothing at all, just move on automatic, obeying without thought. The whole “not thinking” is the hard part - we have brains for a reason. We have a mind and heart unique to ourselves, thinking our private thoughts - but now you need to shut that away.

When people stop breathing, they die. If Toga ‘stops breathing’, she dies. Toga Himiko dies, then there’s no longer a ‘Toga Himiko’, no longer a self.

Be empty and dead inside, and you can blend in with the crowd. Have no sense of self, and you can be whoever people want you to be. Had Toga stop being herself, then her parents will stop yelling at her, people will accept her.

She can live a ‘normal’ life, but only if she’s a hollow shell.

[darling-clemmy]

A Feeling We Don’t Know//Clouis Highschool AU--Chapter One

A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of my highschool AU! I will try to update this regularly, and I hope you enjoy the first part :)) also huge thank you to @missdaisymayrio , without her I could not have written this. 

Summary of Story: After the first night, it seems impossible for them not to run into each other. Though, neither the boy with dreads nor the girl with curls can complain about that.

Summary of Chapter: Clementine had never liked parties--until she realized that some of them aren’t so bad, thanks to one dark haired boy.

Word Count: 3,670 words

CHAPTER ONE: PARTY FAVOR

The rain beat down against the overhanging glass of the bus stop, creating a repetitive pattern that was starting to get under Clementine’s skin. She’d much rather prefer to hear his cheery voice right now, speaking reassuring words into her ear, or the muted radio as they kiss in the backseat of his car. But that couldn’t happen now, or possibly ever again.

She pulled her oversized yellow raincoat closer to her body, although that would only relieve the shaking due to the cold, and not due to her silent cries. I’m so stupid, Clementine thought, forcing more tears out of her eyes. Yet, under the heavy rain, they were barely noticeable.

A car with blurry headlights zoomed past her, causing roadside rain water to splash up and hit her ankles. She was too numb to care about anything, much less a little bit more water on her already soaking clothes. Her head lifted at a realization—that car was playing their song. She could recognize that beat anywhere, having listened to it nonstop months ago. How silly it was to think that it held any meaning. She knew now that it was all a mistake. He was a big, heart shattering mistake.

Clementine checked her phone once more for whatever reason, as the same picture of a low battery came up again. She sighed, her entire being feeling so crumbled that it was useless to have any hope for herself anymore. So, with no other choices, she stood up from the cold bench, lifted her hood over her curls, and began stomping through the wet, cracked sidewalk back home, leaving him and all of their memories behind her.

—

7 MONTHS EARLIER:

Ding!

Clementine blinked in surprise as the bell signifying an order was ready rung. She removed her hand from beneath her chin and looked at the plate. 

One large blueberry pancake, four scrambled eggs, and six pieces of bacon with a coffee that might as well just have been milk. Kyle, Clementine guessed, rolling her eyes at the fact that she’d have to bring it out to him. 

Tightening the stained white apron that was tied around her waist, she picked up the chipped plate by its bottom and held the mug’s handle firmly. 

The diner was especially busy today, as it was every Saturday. Besides, Everett’s was the only place other than Bee Joe’s to get breakfast in the small town of Wareham, West Virginia. Because of this, probably around half the population came in between 7am and 2pm, consisting of young children with their mothers, a group of loud old men who split the check in eighths, and Clem’s own teachers at school, who, no matter how much they come in, were always surprised she works there. 

After maneuvering through the clustered tables and booths, she finally made it to the table marked “H,” where, of course, none other than Kyle was sat. 

“Here’s your food,” Clementine choked out through a forced toothy smile. “And your coffee. Do you need anything else today?”

Kyle slumped back in his chair as he eyed the food suspiciously, before returning his gaze back to her silently. 

At his uncomfortable stare, Clem cleared her throat and gripped the hem of her stupidly stiff baby pink uniform skirt.

“Nah, nothing that I can order off the menu, anyway,” he nearly slurred out, making Clementine wonder if he was already high or if he was just sleazy. 

“Okay, well, let me know if there is.” By now, she was smiling so tightly and fakely that it was beginning to hurt. Before he could get another word in, she spun on her heel and rushed back to safety behind the counter, away from the college boy.

Once there, where none of the customers could really see, she threw down the order notebook with a huff. Looking up at the red LED clock, she counted the minutes to when she’d be allowed to leave. 275 minutes. 16, 500 seconds. It’s a lot, but she hoped that maybe she’d be able to just wash tables until then. 

“Dumb day?” A southern-twanged voice asked from beside her. 

Clem sighed in relief that it was Brody, and not her supervisor scolding her for not being “sweet and accommodating,” as she’d always say.

“It wasn’t too bad until Eric, you know, the new cook guy, spilled bacon grease on the floor and I had to clean it up. And Kyle’s here and you know how he always is and of course I’m his waitress.” Clementine complained as she lowered her head in closer to Brody, like preteens gossiping. 

“Ugh, he shouldn’t even be allowed in here. He’s such a creep,” Brody agreed. “I had to wait on the Yorks and all eight of their kids, who all wanted chocolate chip pancakes in the shape of Disco Broccoli. Omar’s a good cook and all, but how is anyone supposed to do that?”

Clem chuckled thinking about Disco Broccoli and his Chive Talkin’ Friends. She was surprised kids still watched that show. “I think customers think we’re Gordon Ramsay.”

“Sorry, we’re actually just a bunch of 16 to 25 year olds and their 40-something year old manager.” The auburn hair girl replied, scribbling down her tipped wages. “On a lighter note, are you doing anything tonight?”

“Nope. AJ’s parents don’t need me to babysit tonight and my parents are both working late again.” She furrowed her eyebrows before continuing, “Why?”

“Marlon’s having a party tonight and I was wondering if you’d like to come!”

“Brody—“

“Shush, before you say ‘I’m not a party person, Brody,’ it’s not as big as his other ones. There will only be, like, 30 people there, at most.” Brody chastised, placing a hand on her hip.

“Why so small?”

“It’s for his best friend. He just got back from a music camp or something,” she explained. 

Clementine sighed, realizing that she and Brody had never really hung out outside of work before. They may not have been best friends, but Brody had always been there for her, so maybe she owed it to her to go to a party or two.  “Okay, I’ll go. At least for a little bit.”

“Really?” Brody squealed, making some customers’ eyes gather on the girls. “Thank you, Clem! I promise you’ll have fun.”

Clementine laughed, “Who’s his actual best friend anyway?”

“His name’s Louis. Has dreads, writes music and plays piano, his family lives in that really big house down on Charlotte Lane,” Brody described, hoping to jog Clem’s memory. 

Really, she didn’t need to. Everyone in Wareham knew Louis Hastings and his parents. With his high economic standing and the fact that he was a major social butterfly, everyone had talked to Louis at least once. He was well liked, too, so it was no surprise to Clem that a welcome home party was being thrown with him as the guest of honor. 

“Well, I’ll make sure I’m there,” Clem promised with a grin. 

The door opened and hit the ear-ringing bell above it. The girls looked over to it to see an old couple, dressed in button up shirts with matching patterns. 

“Oh, look, Mr and Mrs Carlton. I’ll go get them a table,” Brody recognized with fond smile, as the couple often came in for their usual English breakfast tea and raspberry scones. 

Clementine watched as Brody left her side behind the counter before returning her eyes to the clock that seemed to be ticking slower as it went on. 260 more minutes.

Might as well start washing those tables, Clem thought before grabbing the soapy bucket and the old rag and getting to work. 

—

“You really know how to make the guest of honor feel special, Marlon,” Louis criticized, shoving three more packs of red solo cups into the grocery cart that had an obnoxious squeaking wheel.

“Don’t be mad. You should be happy I’m bringing you along to shop for food, since you’re such a picky eater and all,” Marlon rolls his glacier colored eyes in response.

“I’m not a picky eater,” the dark haired boy began. “I am a refined one.”

“Chicken tenders and french fries are real refined, Lou.”

“Everyone likes chicken tenders and french fries.”

“Vegans don’t.”

“They make fake chicken tenders, you know,” Louis informed, scrunching up his nose at the sour cream and onion chips that Marlon threw in the cart. “Are you buying all of this?”

“I’m not that bad of a party host. You really think I’d make you buy your own party supplies?” Marlon asked incredulously. 

Before Louis could respond, he felt his phone vibrating in his back pocket. He could tell by the personalized pattern that it was his dad calling him. He frowned.

“Hey, Dad,” he greeted blandly. 

“Why aren’t you home yet?” The older man interrogated with a harsh tone.

“I’m out with Marlon,” Louis explained. “I’ll be back later tonight.”

“I can’t believe you sometimes, Louis. You really can’t even be bothered to have dinner with your parents after being away for two months?” His father questioned.

“Look, Dad, I—” Louis began, only to be cut off.

“Just don’t, Louis,” his dad interrupted harshly. “Just—if you have the time, text your mother. She’s missed you a lot.”

“Yeah, I will.” He already had two hours earlier.

His father gave no goodbyes before hanging up the phone, leaving Louis to listen to a dull humming.

“Is everything okay?” Marlon asked.

Louis remained silent as he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“I know how tough your dad can be—“

“Do you still have your fake?”

Marlon’s eyes widened. “ID? Of course.”

At his words, Louis picks a large box of beer out of the cooler and slides it onto the bottom rack of the cart. 

“That’s the spirit, Lou!” Marlon hit Louis’ back roughly.

Louis chuckled, but still, the feeling of disappointment in himself remained in the pit of his stomach.

—

Clementine was late. 

Thankfully, not excruciatingly late. Not so late that it’d be rude to show up now. Just late by thirty minutes or so, since she had spent twenty more minutes than expected trying to figure out what to wear to her first party and another ten getting lost on the way there. 

But, still, she was late. And she hated being late. It was embarrassing.

She walked up the steep steps to Marlon’s front door, the newly setting sun casting her shadow down in front of her, surrounded by a yellow-gold. She was already gnawing on her bottom lip in anxiety, thinking about how lonely she may be here. Yet, Clem still knocks on the door before lowering her hand and wrapping it around her other wrist.

Marlon opened the door, a navy blue can in his hand. “Oh, hey, Clem. Brody said you’d be coming tonight.”

She grinned bashfully. “Yeah, she thought it’d be good for me to get out more.”

“Well, I can assure you that my parties are the best reason to do so,” Marlon boasted. “Come in. Brody’s in the kitchen.”

Before she could say another word, he’s shut the door behind them and ran off to speak to somebody else in his living room. Clementine huffed and raised her brows, analyzing the inside of the house, trying to find the kitchen.

In front of her in the entryway was a rack of coats, hung up high on the grey wall. Clem didn’t bring a jacket, as it was nearly 85 degrees out, so she moved past it and walked into the main area. To her left was Marlon’s living room, accompanied by a few boys she vaguely recognized from school drinking and playing some video game on the large flatscreen. Not wanting to have to talk to them, she quickly walked straight and into the kitchen. 

“You made it!” Brody jumped off from her seat on the granite counter and skipped over to the tan girl to hug her tightly. “I love your outfit.”

Clem looked down at her cuffed blue jeans and form-fitting rosy shirt. Although she was receiving a compliment, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, thanks. It only took a billion years to pick out.”

Brody grinned softly. “Let’s go out onto the patio! That’s where most everyone is.”

The slightly taller girl grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out through the sliding glass door and onto the rocky terrain of Marlon’s patio. To her right was a porch, which you could step up onto and enter an above ground pool. There were pretty, golden bulb lights strung across the entire backyard, glowing down on a little over a dozen teenagers. Music from a nearby speaker played loudly, as Marlon didn’t have any close-by neighbors that would file a complaint.

Brody dragged Clem up onto the porch and over to a few of their classmates who she recognized: Violet LaCasse, Sophie and Minerva Wilson, and Mitch Gray. She had never really talked to any of them, except Mitch once for chemistry homework. But she knew that Brody was really good friends with Sophie and Mitch (surprisingly) especially, so she stayed put.

“Hey, Clementine, right?” Minnie asked as Clem sat down on the metal chair, her arm loosely around Violet’s shoulders.

“That’s my name,” Clementine joked tight-lipped.

“You want a beer?” Mitch chimed in, already reaching for the cooler beneath them.

Clem’s amber eyes widened. “Ah, no, thank you. I’m driving back home tonight.”

Mitch shrugged. “If you wanna’ have real fun tonight, then you drink. I’ll drive you home after.” He gave a cheeky grin.

“You’ve already had three beers in the past 40 minutes, dumbass,” Violet objected, running her finger around the lid of her water bottle.

Clementine remained silent, her eyes furrowed together. Instead, she simply shook her head at his offer. As she looked to her left, she saw how Brody’s lips were set in a slight pout, her fingers wrapped tightly around themselves.

Once the auburn haired girl noticed Clem’s concerned stare, her expression did a complete 180, returning back to her usual welcoming grin. 

Sophie tugged on Brody’s sleeve. “Did Marlon say where Louis is?”

“You know, I don’t—“

As if on purpose, Marlon busted through the sliding glass door, his arm around a slightly shorter, darker skinned boy. A cuter boy, Clementine admired. Louis Hastings.

“Look who’s fuckin’ back and better than ever!” Marlon roared, clearly already tipsy, stumbling out onto the patio.

Practically everyone grinned and cheered, the screams of the teenagers echoing into the forest behind them. The rest of the boys who Clem saw inside also came outside, all thrilled to see their favorite friend back home. After a few minutes of the rowdy boys yelling and pushing each other, Marlon and Louis made their way up the porch steps and over to the table.

Marlon kissed the side of Brody’s head, her nearly flinching at the touch. “You smell like alcohol, babe.”

He kissed her again, despite her protests, as Mitch and Louis did that awkward side hug-back-hitting thing guys did. 

Louis’s eyes scanned the table, nodding a simple hey, good to see you again to the blonde and the twins before his tawny brown eyes met Clementine’s.

He knew her face from around school, but didn’t really know her too well since she was a grade below him and almost everyone else, except for Mitch. All he really knew her by was the fact that she won a state photography prize for their school last year and that she sometimes wore her hair in two cute pigtails tied with purple ribbons. And that she was pretty. Really pretty.

Louis held his hand out towards her across the table. “Why, hello. I’m Louis, to formally introduce ourselves.”

Clem’s cheekbones flushed vaguely before the corners of her mouth lifted up. “Clementine.”

“I’m glad you could make it. The more the merrier, right?” Louis preached. “Oh, wait, that sounds bad. Uh, nevermind.”

Clementine giggled softly, not caring about the slightly confused stares from the rest of the group.

“Alright, you two, stop flirting,” Marlon interjected, waving his hand around. “C’mon, Lou, let’s go talk to Luke.”

“Okay, okay,” Louis said, turning back to look at her. “See you all later.”

The group said their chorus of goodbyes to the two boys and watched as they walked down the wooden steps, Louis holding up Marlon so he doesn’t fall. Clem’s stare lingered on the boy with dreads, even after they walked across the yard to a group of boys kicking around a soccer ball. 

Brody leaned over the arm of her chair and whispered into Clem’s ear, “You’re welcome for inviting you.”

“Oh, quiet. He was just being nice,” she insisted, tucking a curl behind her ear.

“Whatever you say,” Brody sang.

--

Clementine stood awkwardly by the side of the house as she watched the rest of the party-goers dancing and talking. She wraps one of her hands around the opposite arm in an attempt to warm herself up. She wished she had brought a coat now, the early autumnal cold night air surrounding her in an aura of blue. When she lifted her head to look up at the stars, she hoped that the far away heat from them would transfer to her body. Sadly, it didn’t.

Since she was scuffing her white shoes against the ground, she didn’t notice the presence of a body next to her. She was too focused on an ant crawling through the caverns between bricks and a new dirt mark on the tip of her shoe that she accidentally ignored the kind boy.

He cleared his throat, alarming her and making her look up.

“Sorry,” she apologized flustered. “You were pretty quiet.”

“I don’t know if this will surprise you, but pretty much no one else has ever said that to me,” Louis told her, leaning against the tan house as well.

“Well, you did make quite the entrance,” Clementine complimented.

He shrugged. “Marlon and his alcohol made quite the entrance.”

“Right, right.”

“So, um,” Louis began. “I got you a drink.”

Clementine raises an eyebrow. “Why?” 

“I noticed you didn’t have one at the table. I can’t let a pretty girl go thirsty at my party,” Louis explained, his dark eyes twinkling like the stars above them.

She eyed the red cup suspiciously then gazed back at him. “You seem nice enough, Louis, I just don’t know if I wanna’ take a random drink from you.”

“What? I--Ohh!” Louis’ face dropped at what she was implying. “There isn’t anything--It’s just water with ice. I hope you like ice--Ah, okay, this is a really bad first impression.”

Clementine giggled and bit the inside of her lip. “Then, how about you make a good second impression?”

“Yes! Yeah, yeah,” Louis agreed. 

“Can you walk me to my car? No offense to your party, but I don’t really think I’m needed here.” Clementine joked, but her solemn undertone spoke a different narrative.

He smiled wordlessly and opened the glass door for her, following her once she stepped inside. They made their way through the simple layout of the bottom floor and to the front door. Louis once again held it open for her, and her heart felt warm for the first time tonight.

The walk down the long dirt driveway and to the main street that Clem had to park on was silent, since the two teenagers didn’t know anything to talk about and didn’t really mind the comforting quiet that was only filled with chirps of crickets and nearby music from the party. Once they reached Clem’s silver sedan, she paused in front of the driver side door.

“Well, this is me,” she announced, pulling her keychain out of her back pocket. “Thanks for the walk.”

“I’d feel too bad to let you walk down here alone in the dark,” he reasoned with his hands shoved into his jean pockets. “But, you know, I don’t know if our short walk made up for the whole four hours of the party where you looked miserable.”

“What? I was having fun. So much fun,” she promised dramatically, but at his incredulous stare she gave in. “Yeah, fine, it kind of sucked for me.”

Louis sported a small grin. “And I take no offense to that. Besides, I didn’t really throw it.”

“Even if you did, it’s not like my opinion on it really matters. Everyone else looked to be having fun,” she responded.

“Your opinion matters to me.”

Her lips went into a confused pout. “We just met.”

“So? You still matter, and I still feel kinda’ bad that you were dragged here,” Louis empathized with soft eyes.

Clem sighed. “Can you still say thank you to Brody for me? And make sure she gets home safe? I know she doesn’t drink it’s just….”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he assured, opening the car door for her. He cleared his throat. “Have a nice night, Clementine.”

She smiled and slipped into the car, closing the door after her, but her window remained open. “You too, Louis. Welcome home.”

“Yeah, you too,” Louis said before realizing his mistake. “Wait, no. God, I’ve messed up my second chance, too, haven’t I?”

The tan girl laughed. “No, no, you haven’t at all. Goodnight, Louis.”

“Goodnight,” he waved weakly before stepping out of the way for her to drive off.

He watched her car as she drove down the curvy road like he was watching her herself. When she braked, turned on her blinker, and took a left off of the street, Louis sighed to himself with a blissful smile. She really is something else, he pondered, bringing his hands up to feel how warm his face had gotten during their interactions.

He wondered if she was feeling the same joy in the pit of her stomach, too, or if it was simply one-sided. 

What he did know, though, was that he’d definitely have to thank Brody for inviting her.