#the other one used to be my friend in fifth and sixth grade when she was also terribly uncool but puberty did her well

[tojiscrack]

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋

summary: 22.8k words — it’s a change of scenery, change of friends, and even a change of dynamics. you and megumi go through all of middle school together.

notes: popping this one out at 4am where i live. you bitches better be GRATEFUL after begging for this update 0-0 the next update, before anyone asks, is probably going to take even LONGER bc i have to focus on my levi fic. don’t give me that look — that hasn’t been updated since november 😧

tw: swearing (like, once, i believe).

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

2014-2015 sixth grade

'the day's nearly over' you reminded yourself over and over again as you walked down the unfamiliar hallways.

they told you that middle school was different, but nobody warned you about how independent you'd have to be from here on out. you found yourself comparing nearly everything to elementary school, which you were comfortably attending not even six weeks ago. you did not think you'd prefer elementary school, especially not with the monster of a teacher that you were blessed with for two years in a row, but when you found that you didn't share every single class of yours with megumi, you grew more and more disappointed.

you only shared four out of the eight classes you had in a day with him. it didn't help that you ended up picking theatre and he ended up picking art.

so you found yourself walking down the long hallway and taking the first left where you knew the theatre area was (curtesy of the open days you'd attended during the fifth grade) with the comforting conversation you'd had with your mom before she dropped you off at school in the morning.

during the summer, over on friday night dinner at satoru's place (the usual), it had been vaguely discussed how you and megumi would now be able to walk yourselves to your new school without the suffocating presence of one (or even both) of your parents. the excitement of it all came with the thought of starting an entirely new school, though it faded after the familiarity of your normal routine — where your mothers dropped you off with kisses and lots of smiles — changed completely the second your foot crossed over the line that indicated school grounds.

for the first day, your parents insisted on dropping all of you off (uncle ogi included, even though it was only maki and mai's second year here) and before you could follow your friends past the school gate, your mom had rubbed your back soothingly, as if she knew something you didn't.

you realised what it was now — a big change. though it wasn't entirely unpleasant, you just weren't too used to it.

at the end of the corridor, outside of the theatre hall, you could see people going in and out, movement very clear from where you were standing. however, the closer you got, the two stagnant figures at the end if the hall became more clear to you: a boy about your height and a girl taller than the both of you.

you weren't an eavesdropper (in most circumstances) but here, you could tell that there was some uncomfortable tension surrounding the two of them, so you paid attention as you leaned against the wall. you had time till your lesson started, you figured that you could use the spare time for something juicy.

"sorry, no... i don't really know who you are," the girl spoke, her voice soft as silk as she adjusted the singular strap of her bag over her shoulder.

immediately, you became well aware of what was occurring before you — the guy was asking the girl out. and it seemed that, judging from the girl's delicate response, they had only just met.

expecting the boy to back off and leave, you averted your attention to the display board hanging on the opposite wall, showcasing several plays that the school had their theatre students successfully perform. however, even as you found yourself immersed in the talent that was presented in polaroids and printed images, your ears could not block out the heated argument that the boy had then started.

"i never wanted to be with you anyways," he began, expression feral by the time you'd turned your head to see it. "you're a bitch, and you're never gonna get asked out again. i only did it because i felt sorry for you."

your brows had already knitted themselves together as you watched the boy go on a tangent with his displeasure on getting rejected. you silently examined for the next couple of seconds to see if the girl would defend herself, throw in a few casual responses as well, maybe, but when the slightly busy corridor only echoed the conversations of the ignorant teens walking by as if nothing major was happening, you knew she was too polite to say anything.

he opened his nasty mouth once more — perhaps to spew more venomous lies and pointless insults — but was cut off by your cruel intervention.

"look who's talking, with a mouth like yours, that underbite's making it difficult for me to see if you're a camel or human."

you imitated his underbite, jutting out your bottom teeth in a rather aggressive manner. and you weren't done there — you raised a gentle hand over the girl in a hesitant manner, a silent question as to whether you had permission to touch her. when the girl nodded ever so slightly, you continued with your theatrics.

"go out with me," you cried, underbite still exaggeratively visible. "otherwise no one else will!"

"neanderthal-looking motherfucker," a pretty, dark-haired girl added swiftly. you looked over your shoulder, following the sound of the confident voice. she was standing behind the three of you, apparently attentive to what had been happening before her.

you grinned, turning back to the dumbfounded boy once more. "yeah, clear example of failed evolution, guys."

it seemed that the boy had had enough, turning away and scoffing to himself as he pulled up his loose pants and stomped off, fuming. you half expected smoke to flow out of his ears, surprised when he silently disappeared without commotion.

"i hate guys," the short-haired helper commented casually, eyes still focused on the end of the corridor where he'd last been seen by the three of you.

you nodded. "me too."

"thank you so much," the other girl said with a smile, looking more relieved than ever. her blonde hair, which was already tied back in a low ponytail, was tangled between her pale fingers. maybe it was a nervous tic. "he's in my math class, he tried talking to me there too."

"ugh, forget him, you're literally so gorgeous," the fiercer one of the two girls replied with a sigh. "anyway, are you two here for theatre?"

"oh, no, not me," the other girl responded, her pale cheeks now dusted with a light pink. it had been, no doubt, due to the compliment she received. she shook her head. "i left my bag over here so i had to come back and get it, but i'll see you guys around — i'm kat, short for katie."

"y/n," you introduced yourself with a smile.

"i'm nobara," said the dark haired girl.

the pleasantries and small conversations did not last long, for kat had to run off after a short while, hurriedly explaining to you and nobara that her next lesson was in the complete opposite side of the building. the two of you waved off her apology as she scrambled to secure her bag over her shoulder and run off mid-conversation, reassuring her that she was fine and she had nothing to worry about.

when it was just you and nobara left, and she didn't make a move to leave, you knew she was in the same theatre class.

"i don't swear often," she told you, as the both of you made your way into the theatre hall.

immediately, your vision blanked, unable to see through the complete darkness and lack of light. at first, you almost believed that you made it to the wrong room, but after hearing whispers from your other supposed classmates wondering the same (only aloud) you knew you couldn't have gotten it wrong.

nobara seemed unfazed as she continued her incomplete sentence:

"— but guys really irritate me."

you nodded, and then mentally slapped yourself when you remembered that she couldn't see you — unless she had some weird type of supernatural night vision. you almost laughed at that: if megumi were here, he'd complain about abilities as such being 'not real'.

the lights switched on suddenly, blinding you and the rest of your classmates momentarily. you shut your eyes immediately, face scrunched in distaste at the foolish decision made by whoever had turned the lights on without a simple warning.

by the time you opened your eyes, you found who the culprit was — your (apparently dramatic) and first ever theatre teacher: mr white. he was a lanky old man with a bent posture and thin, rectangle glasses that sat on the bridge of his pointy nose.

"don't let him hear you say that," you muttered with a unsuccessful attempt to hide your smile as he introduced himself with a voice way too loud for this late in the day. "he looks like a scientist."

"he's a theatre teacher," nobara pointed out with a raised brow.

"but he looks like a mad scientist," you continued stubbornly.

nobara regarded you with a look of oddity and for a moment, you were afraid that it'd be a whole new situation where she'd snitch on you for saying such a thing (it had happened back at elementary before; that was a story for another time), but she proved you wrong when her face broke out in a grin, not tight to show that it was forced, and not too expressive to show that it was fake.

"i see it," she agreed with a laugh. "good eye!"

and without even realising it, as the two of you sat together by the cinema-like seats and compared your timetables with one another (you shared six out of eight classes with her!), you had made your first new friend other than megumi.

bonus point: she's a girl!

maybe middle school wasn't so bad. especially not when you and nobara had become mr white's favourite to use as demonstrations for the lesson ("...see? for example, let's say... you, what's your name? y/n? lovely! let's say y/n here had to do a performance. she wouldn't be able to say no even if she hated it because that's professio— huh? you would say no? oh... that's bold. oh, did you day something? what's your name? nobara — okay, well the thing is, you can't just refuse to work with men all the time — no you can't hit them if they tell you that you have to, girls").

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

you let out a gasp of shock when megumi and another pink-haired boy approached you and nobara by the lockers. the final lesson on both of your timetables was physical education, which nobara had audibly expressed that she absolutely detested. you weren't bad at sports at all — in fact, you were rather good at things like gymnastics, basketball and dodgeball if you really tried, but physical education as a lesson?

you never took it seriously.

you were sure that during elementary school, you'd cost your team a game because you completely stood still and examined your nails when one of your teammates wanted to pass the ball to you.

but while nobara's concerns were about the next lesson she was dreading, yours were about the two boys approaching you, particularly the bright-eyed, tall, pink-haired one.

pink hair? you thought to yourself with a grimace. what a weirdo.

you could not find it in yourself to believe that megumi fushiguro, ever the stoic and heartless one, made friends with a (you assumed was friendly) pink-haired guy. your mind had to put extra emphasis on the pink-haired part of his description. surely he hadn't actually wanted to dye his hair pink? surely it must've been an accident that just so happened to have occurred just before the first day of middle school — quite like how you and uncle ogi accidentally dyed one half of mai's hair blue while the other remained pink at some point during fourth grade...

but with the way the boy carried himself, his hands casually resting in his pockets as he walked down the hallway with megumi, an unwavering smile plastered over his gentle face, you were under the assumption that the result of his hair was no accident.

weird.

megumi acknowledged you with raised brows the moment he came within hearing distance of you. he barely acknowledged nobara, whose brows had furrowed in a skeptical manner when it became clear that yes, megumi and his friend were indeed approaching you.

"what's your next class?" said megumi, sounding gloomier than usual. perhaps he'd been having the same thoughts about starting a new school as you had — everyone knew that megumi hated change.

the boy next to him raised a hand and waved. you turned back to your childhood friend with narrowed eyes.

"first of all, it's p.e," you said hurriedly, the sound of nobara closing her locker echoing around the halls. people were starting to come out of their classes, heading to their next one. "secondly, did you just replace me?"

megumi released a small exhale through his nose to show his disbelief at your question. through half-lidded eyes, he averted his gaze from you to nobara, scowling. it was clear what he was indicating, and you weren't very impressed with his silent words.

"this is nobara and she's actually better than you, so..." you introduced her without even looking at her.

megumi's pink-haired companion spoke up just after you.

"i'm yuji," he said helpfully, the smile still present on his face despite your very loud claim of megumi having betrayed you by apparently 'replacing' you with this yuji.

yuji... the name fit, somehow.

"megumi," the messy-haired boy replied, barely smiling or making an attempt to seem welcoming at all.

nobara leaned in towards you, uncaring of whether the two boys noticed or not.

"he looks like he used to pick his boogers and eat them," she whispered, her chin lifting to gesture at yuji. before you could put your input on that, her gaze shifted back to megumi. "and he looks entitled — didn't even start with 'i'm' or 'my name is'. you're seriously friends with this guy?"

"oh that's just what megumi does. he's just angry at life for no reason, you'll get used to it!" you clarified brightly.

megumi did not like that. he raised his pale hand to flick your forehead, and you were so invested in making fun of him, you hadn't realised that he was aiming to do it until you felt the harsh sting of the attack just after he'd dropped his hand back to his side.

"ouch!" you hissed, rubbing your forehead and glaring at him. "why did you do that porcupine? i was gonna introduce myself to yuji!"

"don't bother," he responded, teeth gritted as your loose tongue slipped out the embarrassing nickname you'd made for him. "already told him your name —"

"porcupine?" repeated yuji, only further agitating megumi, who had a clenched jaw now. he faced up at your mutual friend — yuji was about the same height as you, and megumi had grown slightly over the summer so it grew a little more difficult to be able to see the the entire surface area of his messy hair as easily as you once used to. but yuji had decided that he'd seen enough when he let out a boisterous laugh. "hey, i see it! you look like a porcupine!"

as you and nobara laughed at the expression on megumi's face, yuji continued to explain what he'd meant, even as megumi glared at him with enough intensity to potentially kill.

"'cause... 'cause your hair —"

"i get it," he snapped, effectively ending the open-day-on-megumi-fushiguro.

"i like you y/n," said yuji, shortly after.

you beamed. "i like me too!"

megumi watched the interaction before him, his mind immediately figuring out a way to piss you off the same way you managed to piss him off. after knowing you for so long, and going through thick and thin with each other, it wasn't hard for megumi to plunge his hand into the pit in his mind where his witty responses remained, and pull something out to at least render you the slightest bit speechless (his record timing of keeping you silent with embarrassment had been five seconds).

"so do we all have p.e then?" nobara questioned, seemingly accepting the fact that megumi and yuji were going to be with you for the rest of your time here at middle school. it didn't mean that she was necessarily pleased, however, but she did like you and would remain friends with you even if it meant having to be around the two boys.

"yeah, but we're not in the same classes," you said, defeated. "nobara and i are though!"

"are we in their class?" yuji cluelessly asked megumi.

the aloof boy shrugged. "i don't know, ask the mermaid."

time stopped for you.

"the mermaid?" both yuji and nobara repeated with confusion.

there was ringing in both your ears, forcing you to grow less and less attentive of the bewilderment surrounding your two new friends. something in your stomach was wiggling, encouraging you to bend over and release the contents of that morning's breakfast down, eyes narrowing to prevent it all. your jaw had become less tense, slowly dropping to allow your soft lips to form an 'o', your expression softening all the while. your vision grew blurry, not through tears, no, but through the growing heat beneath your skin all over your body. you unknowingly clenched your fists, nails digging into the ends of your palms to form half-moon crescents into your smooth skin.

you had never felt such rage course through your body — your soul, even — in the eleven years of life that you'd been living. it didn't come as a surprise to you that megumi would be the reason, but you'd hoped that out of everything he could have said to anyone in the future, it would be anything but that.

his voice echoed in your mind even though you could clearly see his lips remained unmoving.

'i don't know, ask the mermaid...'

'(...) know, ask the mermaid...'

'ask the mermaid...'

'(...) the mermaid...'

'(...) mermaid...'

mermaid.

the scene before you had flashed before your eyes, the embarrassment you'd felt at the end of the day when you'd later failed to convince everyone that you just so happened to be a mermaid.

the shame brought upon you during the family dinner that week, and how easily it was for everyone to make fun of you when usually, it was always you that managed to poke fun at someone.

"megumi fushiguro," you started slowly, cutting through yuji's random theory about what 'mermaid' could have possibly meant. the traitor you were addressing raised a brow at you expectantly. "how dare you."

before he could open his mouth and retort, (nobara began talking: "what are you— oh!") you stepped forward and pulled his hair, your ultimate move as he gripped your wrist tightly, one eye shut and one eye open in pain. you didn't stop there, raising your leg to kick him in the knee. you shoved him away, dusting yourself off as if you'd touched the dirtiest thing the world had to offer.

he regained his composure easily, glaring at you throughout it all.

"ouch," he said, face straight and firm.

nobara gave him a look of disgust, everyone collectively ignoring yuji's difficulty in standing up straight to stop himself from laughing (megumi slapped his hand off of his shoulder when he attempted to use it as a grip).

you threw your chin in the air with a look of something between victory and annoyance.

"don't embarrass me in front of nobara ever again."

nobara would have laughed at that, but she was too occupied with her absolute discontent towards megumi and his reaction to your attack.

"why are you acting like that didn't hurt?" she demanded fiercely.

megumi shrugged, his hands still planted casually in the pockets of his school pants.

"seriously, how are you friends with this guy?" she then asked you, regarding your moody friend with a look of contempt.

"after this? we're not friends," you declared. but your decision hadn't lasted even five seconds before you stared up at him with disbelief. "megumi, where's your friendship bracelet?"

he looked down at his empty wrist. "i took it off."

"oh — oh, i see how it is," you snapped, taking nobara's hand and stomping away.

the boys watched you walk off, megumi looking exhausted and yuji sporting a wide smile. you were glad nobara did not put up any resistance in being dragged away. in fact, she seemed to be pushing further so she could take the lead instead.

"you'll never — see this face — again!" you called out over your shoulder.

for the brief moment you caught each other's gazes, you were submerged in a moment of betrayal when he did not seem the slightest bit upset. megumi merely stared back at you, deadpanned, the further you walked.

"we're going the same way," he brutally commented.

you hated that he was always right. would it kill him to be wrong just for a bit? if only to save yourself from the embarrassment once again?

"i know."

you hadn't. you'd forgotten.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

physical education felt like you'd joined the military here in middle school — why hadn't maki warned you of that? though arguably, when you and mai had spoken about starting the school, she'd mentioned how difficult it would be, and how maki was such a loser that she took this course incredibly serious.

you weren't bad at sports at all. in fact, you enjoyed it. the annual family football game meant that you had to enjoy it because it was a necessity — you remembered how mai found it super difficult to keep up with everyone else just because her interests lied elsewhere. winning was very important to you, so you always opted to choose mai last whenever you ended up being captain of your team.

that being said, all of that wouldn't be believable if anyone saw the stance you were taking now at the dodgeball game coach yaga (a broad, angry man with flattened hair and sunglasses who seemed to dislike you the most) had organised for you all.

though your timetables had made it extremely crystal clear that you and nobara were not in the same class as megumi and yuji were for p.e, coach yaga had all the classes merge for the first lesson ever to play one massive round of dodgeball. you were pleased to find that the four of you were all on the same team, though the coach began to slowly regret his choice, particularly when the first round had started and he'd finally, properly met you, y/n l/n.

the second his whistle went off, every single person in your team (and the one across you) dashed forward to grab at the balls lined in the centre of the field. everyone except from you.

see, you had stayed back and admired the grass beneath your sneakers, fond at how vibrant the green was. the coach was shouting at someone, and perhaps you should have paid attention to who, especially when you saw him glaring in your direction. you looked back, as if trying to see if he was shouting at someone behind you, only to be met with the empty air of space. you turned, raising your brows as you placed your pointer finger on your chest and mouthed a startled 'me?'.

"YES, YOU!" he'd bellowed, arms outstretched in disbelief. "WHO ELSE?"

you looked around, indeed trying to find who else and only growing distracted with how impressed you were at yuji's speed since he'd been the first out of both teams to reach the line of balls and take them.

"go yuji!" you cheered joyfully. "i've got your back —" you announced proudly, and when you tried moving forward to help, a ball missed you by two inches. you stepped back again. "... from right here!"

"what the hell are you, a cheerleader?" coach yaga demanded. "GET ON THE FIELD!"

"i am!" you argued back, gesturing to where you were standing which, indeed, was on the field.

you were growing very frustrated with whoever this damn coach was. the first time he'd yelled at you, you let it slide. now, however, you were starting to get annoyed.

"GET ON THE —" he started, turning away and sighing when two of your teammates had been hit below the waist. "YOU — WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"

oh this is bad, you thought to yourself in fear. the very last thing you needed was a phone call home to your mom on your literal first day of a whole new school. you did not want a repeat of elementary school, but you could see the way coach yaga was glaring at you. it was almost similar to the way mrs davis — your fifth grade teacher — would stare at you: a menacing expression, made to intimidate you, no doubt.

you looked around, trying to formulate a plan in your head. the smartest idea was most likely to simply participate, but with how serious everyone seemed (some blonde dude from the other team literally screamed at another guy for not catching the ball) you had no desire to be apart of it all.

you turned back to coach yaga when he continued to demand your name.

"it's — it's megumi," you lied, mindful of the fact that megumi was at the front of the field, participating with such ease — the importance of that was to make sure that he hadn't heard you: he'd definitely tell the coach the truth instead (especially because your lie was at his expense).

the coach seemed skeptical, raising a brow at you and pushing his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose. you noticed how his hands were slightly more tanned than his face.

"you don't look like a megumi," he said, as he pointed at another student to silently tell them that they were out.

you did not know what to do then. how else were you supposed to convince him that your name was megumi? perhaps you could grow defensive... make him feel guilty for criticising your fake-name? no, you thought wisely, that would attract attention from megumi.

but it seemed that for the first time ever, luck was on your side — for coach yaga had grumbled under his breath, and through the loud yells of your fellow classmates, you heard each and every word he uttered.

"but i remember a megumi from the register..." he looked up at you again. "right. go and help your team!"

your head slowly turned to your fellow teammates, all of whom were working diligently to secure themselves a win. you drew back — dodgeball is never that serious. they were acting like their lives were on the line.

"um — i'm fine over here, actually," you giggled, muttering out a small 'ooh' whilst also flinching at the sight of nobara purposely aiming for that same tall, angry dude on the other team; she managed to hit him successfully.

"that wasn't an option," he spoke, his voice growing in volume with each word, until finally... "GO HELP YOUR TEAM, MEGUMI!"

megumi, who had quite literally just done exactly that by managing to take out the most competitive player of the other team, turned his head at the scolding he'd apparently received.

you had to hold back a laugh, puffing out your cheeks with the breath of air you'd held in to help with that. you were somewhat grateful for yaga's glasses as they made it difficult to see who he was looking at.

megumi, confused at the random scolding he received (one he firmly believed he did not deserve when that blonde girl on his left could barely throw at a proper distance), straightened up and turned his attention back to the game, catching a ball that had been thrown at him and ultimately leaving said-thrower out of the game.

meanwhile, you actually took several tentative steps forward, noticing a ball rolling at your feet. bending down, you picked it up and examined it for a moment. you raised it high, ready to throw it...

— to your teammate because you had no actual intention of participating in this inhumane sport ever.

coach yaga clearly did not like that:

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, MEGUMI?"

the actual megumi turned his head to glare at the coach, who looked extremely irate. megumi did not understand — what was he doing wrong? why on earth was this man distracting him from playing for his team? was he purposely being biased, distracting him for no reason to allow the other team to secure a win?

he was growing angrier for every second yaga continued to scold him for doing the exact thing he kept saying megumi wasn't doing: catching the ball? he'd done it thrice. throwing the ball? he just did. participating? what the hell was he doing the entire game then, if not participating?

all the while, you had to turn away and place a hand over your mouth, your chest heaving every time coach yaga yelled at you and referred to you as megumi. it only grew more difficult to hold back a laugh, particularly when megumi would stand up and glare at the coach.

you somehow ended up in the middle of your team's side of the field, which was not what you wanted at all. but before you could turn and walk back to what you claimed as your designated spot at the very back of the field, you noticed your shoelace untied.

"oh!" you said, hearing coach yaga yell 'your' name as you bent down to tie your laces together again.

unbeknownst to you, when you'd ducked to do your laces, a ball had been thrown, and while it was meant for you, your action had allowed it to fly over you and hit another player who just so happened to have been standing behind you.

that must've been it for coach yaga, because at that time, he'd yelled at you louder than you'd ever heard him do so in the past fifteen minutes.

"MEGUMI, WHY DIDN'T YOU CATCH THAT BALL?" he bellowed, his grip on his whistle tightening so much, you could see his veins bulging. "YOU COST YOUR TEAM A PLAYER!"

the look on megumi's face was outrageous: his brows were furrowed so much that some of his forehead (that was usually mostly concealed by his fluffy hair) was slowly starting to show as he swiped a warm hand across his face in both exhaustion and irritation. he was now under the impression that coach yaga either picked on him for the sake of it, or that he was simply blind. it would explain the sunglasses he wore indoors.

megumi then unconsciously came up with the counterargument that satoru did the same, though he easily countered it with the fact that the white-haired male was simply foolish and incompetent.

megumi truly believed that, unlike satoru, yaga wasn't foolish or incompetent. he liked his strict nature. initially.

now, however, megumi was slowly growing to hate the man for spewing up lies about things that megumi had apparently done (when did he run away from an incoming ball?).

so being accused of costing a team a player when he'd indeed caught a ball and gave the team back a player was where he had to put his foot down. enough was enough.

"i didn't!" he snapped, yaga's head tilting and brows furrowing menacingly. megumi could have sworn that he also looked challenged, in a sense.

yaga let out a noise, something between a scoff and a gasp. he seemed almost confused.

"who are you, boy?"

megumi glowered. "megumi."

you watched the conversation playing out before you, watched as someone caught a ball that had been flying towards megumi's distracted figure, watched as yuji apologised to a girl he'd taken out of the game, watched as your plan deteriorated before you.

you had two options:

you could go ahead and distract coach yaga, turn his attention back to you and make him completely forget that a random, angry boy just lied about his name being yours... or, you could stand back and enjoy the show. after all, it was rather amusing, and you didn't actually believe that your lie could be held out for so long (though you were surprised with how much megumi had tolerated).

you chose the latter. it was fun.

"oh so you're the new class clown, are you?" said coach yaga, and you nearly choked on your own laughter when you saw megumi's offended expression. "nice try — megumi's a girl name."

oh, you thought with amusement. he pulled the perfect card; you watched as megumi's expression had softened (still glowering, always) and spoke under his breath.

"not a girl's name..."

"you trying to be funny, boy?" coach yaga continued brutally. he unfolded his arms. "you're not megumi. she is!"

your cover had been blown: megumi's head turned, leisurely, slowly, almost as if he was hoping, praying to the lord above, that 'she' wasn't who he thought it was.

but when his gaze met yours and found the amusement dancing around your features as you crouched to poorly hide your laughter, he knew his prayers had been dismissed.

of course. why did he even care to believe in hope at this point?

megumi might have been having the worst day of his life, but you were experiencing your best. it wasn't even coach yaga's exclamations that had you reeling (though it was a good contributing factor) it was megumi's realisation, the scowl on his face, the deadpanned look he sent as he sighed loudly, so much so that it almost sounded like a drawn out groan. there wasn't even a point in hiding your laughter from both him and coach yaga anymore, it was clear as day that you were enjoying every bit of this.

megumi was angry.

"i'm megumi," he informed coach yaga. "not her."

coach yaga didn't take that lightly.

"you — megumi is not your name, boy, what are you yapping about?" he demanded, almost growing. he reminded you of that one scene from your favourite anime 'attack on titan' where the teacher — keith shadis — yells at his students, face contorted to form an expression that looked rather funny to you.

"megumi is my name," your angry friend responded, side-stepping away from a ball that had been thrown at him. he glared at you. "that was your fault."

you raised a brow. "how? you dodged it."

he ignored you, choosing to glower at coach yaga instead.

"her name is y/n."

"the hell?"

you thought it was the perfect chance to confuse him even further. you called out to the coach from your favourite position at the back.

"no, no, he's right!" you informed him loudly. "he's megumi!"

coach yaga stared at you, positively startled. "what —"

"yeah, he's not lying! his name is megumi!"

coach yaga pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly. you waited patiently for him to look up, and eventually, when he did, he took his sunglasses off to finally address you, bare eyed and all.

you raised your brows in surprised anticipation.

"right — megumi — y/n — whatever the hell your name is — GET OVER HERE!"

you jumped, turning away and skipping forwards.

"erm — no thanks! i'll just start playing now!"

and true to your word, despite his loud protests (and how very verbal they were), you intercepted and caught a ball, saving a distracted girl on your team, and allowing one of your defeated teammates to return back to the field.

you beamed, waving the ball over your head at yaga.

"see? i did it!"

but you frowned at the sight of a particular player returning to the field due to your impeccable catch. you remembered him to be the random voice yelling at you to 'catch the ball!' or 'help us!'. how ironic.

"um — no, i don't want you back in the game," you said, walking up to him and pointing at the line of players that were out. "not after you shouted at me — don't look at me like that — it's my catch! you can be back in the game," you added to another player.

coach yaga screamed at you from in between the two lines of defeated players.

"YOU DON'T GET TO DECIDE THAT!"

you averted your gaze from your classmate to the coach, slowly regarding him with a look of something in between disbelief and annoyance. you repressed the urge to scoff at him. what ridiculous rules he had made. you didn't remember dodgeball being this strict.

"well i think you should change that dumb rule," you told him, holding the ball beneath your pit and resting your weight on your left leg. "anyway, what are you waiting for?" you asked the other boy you wanted back on your team. "go!"

he was a stammering mess, gesturing from coach yaga to the field, muttering something about 'but i don't think i'm allowed to' or something along those lines. you were growing more impatient with every stutter, with every stammer, with every bit of hesitation.

sighing, you turned to the player that was actually meant to be back in the game, and gestured behind you at the field.

"ugh, you just go because he's taking too long and it's making me tired."

it was funny, because despite coach yaga's fury towards you, that boy had only gone and rightfully joined the game after you demanded so. perhaps p.e lessons weren't so bad, what had nobara been complaining about back when you had a conversation about sports by her locker? p.e was fantastic.

until your ears began to ring again. coach yaga had turned a deep shade of burgundy.

"HEY, THAT'S IT!" he bellowed, and to your complete surprise (and fear), he began stomping forward, making a move for you despite the game continuing.

you squeaked, dropping the ball and running away, unaware of the chaos that had ensued after the referee left his position. you noticed how several players from both teams thought it'd be wise to run back on the field, playing as though they had not quite literally cheated due to the coach's distraction. the thought would have made you laugh had you not been running for your life.

you looked over your shoulder and nearly fell over when someone from the opposing team had recklessly thrown a ball in your team's direction, only for it to hit coach yaga on his thigh.

you stopped, eyes darting over to the culprit who turned out to be a very tall, lanky, brunette kid. his eyes had turned as wide as saucers at the realisation of the gravity of what he'd done. you turned back to coach yaga, shaking your head at him.

"sir you're out," you alerted him helpfully.

you hadn't noticed yuji hovering over your shoulder, megumi standing idly beside him and nobara observing with poorly contained amusement.

"she's right y'know," you heard yuji comment to megumi lowly, but you knew that if you had been able to hear it, coach yaga had definitely heard it too. "he is out —"

you thought you made coach yaga absolutely lose it when he made his move towards you, walking through the ongoing game because he'd just about had it, but you did not know that there was more patience left in him to narrow, not until he stood before you now, fingers half curled inwards and hovering over his own head. you would've assumed that he was going to rip his own hair out, but then you noticed how he didn't really have any to do so.

it was when he started visibly vibrating on the spot, and practically acting feral with untamed indignation, did you fully realise the extent of just how short this man's temper was.

a noise bubbled out of his throat, something akin to a howl. you snorted.

"wait — why's he glitching?" you laughed, watching the odd scene unfold before you.

"oh — he's spazzing out," said yuji, sounding almost concerned despite speaking with a curious air of thoughtfulness.

"men," sighed nobara, eyeing coach yaga critically.

megumi observed his teacher, unbothered. "she broke our teacher."

"i did not break him!" you snapped, but then noticed something that made you clap excitedly. "megumi! he's growling like bear from masha and the bear!" you chortled loudly, slapping away his hand that had extended past yuji to pinch at your arm.

"you couldn't have stopped yourself?" said megumi, eyes half-lidded and seeming slightly bored, not nearly as interested in coach yaga's odd actions as much as everyone else.

you frowned. "huh —"

"it's the first day."

"i know that," you said brightly. "what's your point?"

megumi walked away from you, muttering something under his breath.

it didn't take long before everyone lost interest in the dodgeball game at hand and became more fascinated with the way coach yaga ordered you to get off the playing field and face the other way, apparently in a middle-school version of time out. you scowled. a school for 'big kids', they said. they'll treat you like 'adults', they said.

what lies.

after the twenty minutes of the first round was up, he sent you back on the field with your team, but not before borderline threatening you.

"hey — you," he said, once you'd excitedly waved at nobara. you looked up at him, curious. "you better fix up, or else."

"or else what?"

"or else."

you tilted your head when he left it at that, opting to stare at you in some weird method that was made to, no doubt, intimidate you.

"i don't get it. or else what?"

he groaned loudly. "don't make me shout. get on the field and participate."

you definitely did one of the two things: you stepped out on the field and joined your old friend (and your two new friends) and chatted their ears off with enthusiasm. but as for the latter...

you still faced issues with obeying that particular order.

dodgeball just was not fun when you were so strict about it, so instead of lingering at the back like you had previously done, you joined nobara and stood behind her for moral support.

"i want to get that guy out," she told you, and while it may have looked like you were both conversing about plans for the game to an outsider, you knew all too well that it would only be nobara who formed a game plan.

you side-stepped a lousily thrown ball when you spotted something from the corner of your eye.

"look, nobara! that cloud looks like a bum!"

"what — OW!"

distracted by your observation, nobara had averted her gaze from the opposing team for a single second before she found herself clutching her eye, bulging in pain due to the ball that had made contact with it.

you gasped. her hand hovered over her injury. coach yaga yelled at you furiously.

nobara had to sit out for the rest of the round, a bag of frozen peas pressed against her eye as she lazily slouched on the chair. you scolded the attacker, ignoring the way coach yaga scolded you.

"stop shouting at him when it was your fault!"

"okay okay," you scowled, walking backwards without keeping your eyes off of the coach, your back meeting the side of a warm body.

you turned, startled when yuji's pink hair brushed your cheek.

"oh, careful!" he said, helping you stand properly. he looked over your shoulder, flinching when nobara glared at him simply for meeting her gaze. "damn, nobara seems pissed."

"yeah, it's all that guy's fault," you said, pointing at the boy who had thrown the ball at her.

"wasn't it your fault?" said yuji, frowning at you.

your gaze hardened rapidly. whose side was he on? yours, or that random dude that had the ugliest smirk you had ever seen and was the actual reason nobara was benched for this round? you liked yuji, but you were very disappointed with him now.

"i didn't throw the ball at her."

"yeah but you distracted her —"

you screamed, grabbing yuji by his skinny arms and pulling him in front of you to use him as a human shield. he was surprisingly easy to manoeuvre, moving in the exact direction you had intended with no difficulty whatsoever. half a second later, he had let out a pained groan when the incoming ball met his abdomen just below his waist.

coach yaga blew his whistle.

"you poor kid, you're out," he shouted over the cheers of the other team.

yuji looked at you over his shoulder, incensed and desperate. you let go of his arms and released a long breath.

"heh — erm — thanks for your sacrifice, yuji."

"seriously?" he demanded. "that's what you say after you get me out?"

"sorry, it was every man for himself!" you reasoned with a helpless shrug.

"one of us is a man," he grumbled, making his way towards the line of players that were out.

you waved at him, turning around and then stumbling backwards when megumi's neck had been mere inches from your own face.

"oh — porcupine —"

"don't."

"you scared me!"

he glared at you. "stay away from me."

well that wasn't very nice. megumi never ever expressed his love for you or how you were the greatest friend in the world, which you were used to, that had never been a problem. he definitely insulted you here and there (often) but he gave as good as he got. however, never had he ever said something as rude as that with very little context.

you were not impressed.

"that's rude," you stated with a huff.

"you got those two sent out," he said, quick as a flash. "that's rude."

you rolled your eyes at him. "that's not even true," you said, before pushing his shoulder with yours to walk away from him, only to turn back and add something else. "and i don't even want to stay with you anyway."

"good."

"good!"

"oi, the two megumis!" yelled coach yaga.

the two of you simultaneously looked at the coach. megumi grumbled.

"GET ON WITH IT!"

your ex-friend's head turned to face you once more, and you watched as he scowled at you, his jaw tense and nostrils flaring.

"get away from me," he ordered you coldly.

you raised a brow at him, critical and incredulous.

"no," you said, disbelief hanging onto the single syllable. "it's a free country!"

"i was here first," he responded quickly, with all the passion and excuse of a bratty child.

"yeah well guess what porcupine? i don't care."

"you should. you're gonna get me out somehow."

"whatever," you said, before turning to walk away.

but then you hurriedly turned back, wanting to address something very quickly. megumi had already shaped the rest of his body in a competitive stance, knees bent and arms extended. his brows were furrowed, eyeing the opposing team almost menacingly, though he looked more focused and concentrated than he did angry. he barely moved his head to look at you when you spoke again.

"oh, and by the way," you stated, pointer finger raised to emphasise your statement, "i'm only walking away because i want to. not because you told me to, so..."

"i don't care," he'd said, just as you'd turned your back to him for the nth time within a single minute.

but history showed that the two of you always fought for the last word and you would definitely not lose your two-year-long streak over some stupid dodgeball game.

so you spun on the spot again, ignoring the menacing look he'd sent you.

"i don't want to stand next to you anyways. i'll stand next to someone who actually wears the friendship bracelet i give them —"

you walked off (for real this time) just as megumi stood up straight and yelled after you.

"i had to take a shower!"

"for what?" you demanded, choosing to walk backwards this time so you could continue walking and talking. "you come out looking scruffy anyw— look out!"

he barely budged when the ball hit his leg, seemingly accepting his cruel fate. you froze when he sent you the stink eye, sheepishly shrugging when coach yaga's whistle cut through the tense silence.

"megumi number two, you're out!"

megumi stood completely still, shoulders drooped and eyelids heavy. you thought he looked like uncle ogi when he sat in his special arm chair and simply contemplated his life. it would have been funny if not for the harsh circumstances. megumi only looked up to address the coach.

"it's just megumi —"

"okay just megumi — GET OFF THE FIELD!"

and as he did just that, you did not miss the small 'stupid mermaid' he muttered to himself.

the slightest tinge of guilt that slyly crawled its way into your stomach and sat there comfortably like a turtle in its shell had been fought off by your immune system the second you'd heard him curse you with that stupid nickname. you didn't feel bad about the loss of that dumb porcupine from your team. he barely brought anything to the table to begin with: excitement? he had no humour. personality? he was boring. style? look at his hair.

the next ten minutes of the game had you almost pleasantly surprised: the majority of your team found themselves standing in the line of defeated players, simply observing, watching and waiting for some warrior to come in and catch a ball for them (seeing as you certainly would not). it had become so frequent, so consistent that everyone but you would somehow get hit by the ball, that the rest of the game was barely dodgeball — it was a waiting game.

they were waiting on you.

to either pick up the ball and throw it, or catch the next ball flying at you.

you did neither.

and because you'd done neither, all the balls had ended up on your end of the field, meaning that members of the other team had to wait until you decided to throw a few back.

but really, you spent your time apologising to yuji. you had attempted to do so before, but the other team rudely interrupted you by trying to bombard you with multiple balls. now that all of them were on your court, they wouldn't be able to attack you.

"listen yuji," you said, for (probably about) the fifth time, "i am so sorry for using you as a human shield and then saying that it's every man for themselves —"

when you thought that you would not get distracted by the other team, you had forgotten that the biggest distraction of all could enter both courts: coach yaga.

"OI, PICK UP THE BALL, AND THROW IT —"

"— wait, i'm not done yet!" you snapped, throwing the coach a dirty look before softening your expression to address a bored yuji once again. "where was i? oh yeah! i didn't mean to use you as a human shield, i just don't like to be hit by things. so i'm sorry i got you out, okay? and —"

"— YOUR TIME IS RUNNING OUT  —"

"— and!" you continued over the loud voice that belonged to the bear that just so happened to be your coach, "— i regret it so much. i'm sorry, yuji."

"what about me?" said megumi.

you looked at him, eyes narrowed and head tilted.

"only friends get apologies," you told him, gaze darting down to his bare wrist before meeting his dark eyes once more. "and it's not even my fault you got out — i didn't tell you to stare at me, did i? anyways, i'm sorry, yuji."

"IF YOU WERE REALLY SORRY, YOU'D CATCH A BALL AND GET THAT PINK KID BACK IN THE GAME!"

yuji, who had been silently listening to your honest and true apology, had turned his head to look at the coach with a confused and hurt expression. he looked like a kicked puppy.

"pink ki—" he barely finished his sentence before the pout invaded the previous frown he'd been sporting.

"well i can't catch a ball if they're not throwing any, can i?" you said matter-of-factly.

"ALL THE BALLS ARE ON YOUR COURT, THROW THEM THEN!"

nearly every member of your team nodded and agreed. you thought they were a bunch of sheep but said nothing about it. you rolled your eyes and picked up the balls, walking towards the line that separated the two courts and then simply dropped the balls there.

"what the hell are you — WHY ARE YOU GIVING IT TO THEM?"

you turned, one ball under your pit and the other on your free palm.

"i thought you said you wanted me to give it to them and then catch it!"

"NO, YOU CONFUSED CHILD — I SAID TO THROW THEM!"

you dropped all the balls remaining in your hold and then sighed. "this is too hard — OH MY GOD!"

you'd barely been given the time to adjust to the new rules of the game (that you'd never once heard of) before the players on the other team were throwing the balls you had given them at you.

you scowled after you ducked at a ball aiming for your head.

"hey, i gave those to you!"

"yeah, that's the point," a boy with shoulder length hair responded.

you got used to the constant attacks eventually, so much so that you ended up skipping around your end of the field, immune to the constant background distractions and noise (your classmates and coach yaga shouting, nobara was the only one that seemed careless as to whatever the hell you chose to do with your free will) that it almost felt like a dream. it felt liberating to have an entire field to yourself. the rest of the game had gone really well for you: you spent your time cart-wheeling away from the balls thrown, and if you were feeling particularly cheeky in that minute, you'd also do a front aerial.

but where the game had been going splendidly for you, it had been going very poorly for your poor teammates:

"sir can i just replace her?" megumi volunteered, deadpanned and serious.

coach yaga let out a long sigh, though it sounded like it could also be a growl. "no, kid. that's cheating."

megumi looked up at the tall, buff man and glowered at him. "do rules even apply now? look at her —"

you were now trying to convince the blonde girl on the other team to let you teach her how to do the splits.

coach yaga pinched the bridge of his nose hard enough to scar his own aged skin. he blew the whistle after he spent a few minutes contemplating: he finished the game early, and since it was the final class of the day, you all got to go home early.

the class half hated and half loved you for it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

you had to give it to yuji's gramps, the interior design of his house was wonderful. despite being completely deaf, it seemed that the man's lost sense had contributed to his heightened sight, for you could not find a single thing to critique when you'd stepped inside for the first time. it wasn't massive or big like a typical rich person's mansion, it was decent sized and homey, a cosy place that made your insides feel fuzzy and warm like the vibe you got after drinking hot chocolate in front of your fireplace with megumi and the rest of the family growing up.

you, yuji, megumi and nobara hung around at yuji's often. it was easier to get away with things because of the sole fact that his grandfather simply could not hear and made no effort in trying to either.

on one special occasion, the four of you had cycled over to yuji's place straight after school — though megumi and yuji had to take quick showers as they'd been left sweaty and sticky after participating in p.e. you and nobara never did much during those lessons, so the two of you had been completely fine.

"i told you," said yuji, marching over to where you'd been standing by the kitchen to replace the dead flowers in the beige glass, "grandpa hates roses."

"how would you know?" you said, admiring the fresh roses you'd brought over as nobara and megumi threw your backpacks in the designated corner of the living room. "has he ever communicated that to you?"

yuji raised a brow at you. "he's deaf, not mute."

before you could snap back at your pink-haired friend, who had also shot up in height over your time in the sixth grade, megumi had cut through your conversation with a sharp insult.

"you guys sound like idiots," he commented idly. "and yuji's right: he hates roses."

"roses are pretty, what reason does he have to hate them?" said nobara, easily coming to your defence.

over the following months, nobara had warmed up to both boys — yuji and megumi — even if she claimed that she still disliked them very much. her cold exterior towards them had been hard to break, as yuji would constantly mention at any chance he got, but you were glad it did: you couldn't argue with the idiot boys all on your own.

"porcupine, stop siding with the dumb pink kid," you said. stepping away from the roses and making your way down the narrow hall to yuji's bedroom.

"jokes on you, i'm okay with that name now!" he called out from somewhere behind you.

you could hear megumi complaining straight after. "shut up, why are you so loud?"

"you're such a grandpa, megumi," said nobara.

you hummed in agreement, reaching yuji's tall black door at the end of the narrow, dark hallway, twisting the knob and then inviting yourself in. somehow, megumi had overtaken yuji in the walk to his bedroom. you could see the outline of his scruffy hair from his shadow plastered over the wall. once you strutted in, you made an attempt to slam the door in megumi's face, forcing it shut behind you.

he grunted, kicking the door open and then following in straight after you. you had assumed that that would be the end of it, but proven wrong when you felt the heel of megumi's shoe dig into the dip of your knees from behind.

you stacked as a result.

it was embarrassing, but you stood back up just as quickly as you had stacked, spinning around to glare at your stoic friend who simply shrugged and walked off, his hands in the pockets of his pants looking as uncaring as ever.

yuji's bedroom was rather spacious. his walls were a dark shade of blue with a large-screen television attached to the left. he had a single massive window presenting the back garden (which was also not nearly as big as yours or megumi's, though you thought uncle ogi would like the look of it). his bed was rather unique and not out of the ordinary — for someone as spontaneous as yuji, that is.

because he just couldn't have a normal bed like everyone else, yuji had a ceiling bed, something that megumi and nobara had felt was excessive. you did too, for sure (which explained why you spent most of your time up there the first few times you'd come over to his place).

beneath his ceiling bed was his gaming console and a bunch of other cool technological things you played around with from time to time.

the couch at the centre of the room was where the four of you would lounge whenever you'd watch a movie together. it was also routine for you and yuji to argue over the single bean bag that sat just in front of the couch on the floor.

"let's watch a horror movie!" yuji announced as you and nobara flopped onto the couch with all of your limbs spread out.

megumi scowled at the two of you, harshly grabbing nobara's leg and pulling so he could make space. she yelled at him in response, using your hands (which you willingly offered) to pull herself back up and use it as a grip so she could effectively kick at him with her free leg without the risk of falling.

megumi did not like that at all.

"that's cheating."

"i wasn't aware that there were any rules —" she made an attempt to kick him again, "— to this."

"there are when you have the mermaid helping you —"

you threw the spider-man pillow you'd been leaning on at his face and glared at him even when you successfully hit your target.

"yeah, so when you don't look like a porcupine anymore, you stupid sea urchin —" you started, but were rudely interrupted by the enthusiastic voice that was yuji.

throughout all the arguing and chaos, he had been switching through different types of horror movies to watch. you hadn't noticed with the raging hot anger you felt towards megumi.

"insidious chapter three," he read out, comfortably slacking against the squishy bean bag. "yeah, let's watch that!"

nobara, now forcefully pushed to the side as megumi took the odd and foolish initiative to sit on you in order to make you move, loudly verbalised her agreement.

"heard it's super scary though," she said. "let's do it!"

"i —" you began, finding it difficult to speak with megumi's back pressed against your face. you shuffled and pushed at his stubborn body. "i a-agree!"

megumi pushed his weight further into you. you coughed dramatically.

"megumi-you-stupid-cow-i-can't-breathe!"

"good."

"what —" you gasped, harshly breathing in as much air as possible, "what did you eat today — an elephant?"

he only pushed down harder at that.

yuji joyfully clicked on the movie, quickly scrolling down the description and the short list of actors that would be present. you spent the time forcing megumi off of you, only successful after more than twenty tries (you were oddly certain about it) and then claimed your seat by the arm of the long couch. corner seats were your absolute favourite; there was no particular reason why, just that it felt a lot more comfortable than being sandwiched in between two warm bodies — megumi was also very stiff, you and nobara collectively agreed, so if you were to be stuck in between two people, you wished megumi wouldn't be one out of two of them.

with the space you'd been selfishly raiding now free, curtesy of your movement to the very right of the couch, nobara easily slid next to you, linking your arms and shifting in her seat so she could get more comfortable to the new adjustment. megumi, however, stood before the two of you, glancing at the only other corner seat that had been meant for him.

"move," he told nobara, demanding and with the manners of a seagull.

her nose scrunched up with disgust at his tone. "what? no."

"i don't wanna sit in the corner," megumi complained while you played with yuji's hair: his seat on his beanbag was right against your knees.

"yeah well tough," said nobara, lifting your interlinked arms just enough so megumi could see them. "y/n's my friend."

his brows furrowed as if that had been the dumbest thing he'd ever heard, though you knew all too well that couldn't be true, not when megumi had strongly proven his disagreement with hilary smith from the fifth grade when she claimed that the government had everyone put in schools to become robots in the future. that was a core memory you wouldn't forget.

"she was my friend first," he countered, looking as though nobara's point had been extremely pointless.

you laughed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and attempting to look humble.

"guys, guys," you intervened smoothly, "there's enough of me to go around for everyone —"

"yeah guys," yuji added ungraciously, "there's enough of me to go around —"

"nobody's arguing over you," megumi snapped, silencing him momentarily. he opened his mouth to, no doubt, berate him further when you had cut across him, gazing down at yuji with a scowl.

"what are you yapping about?" you asked your pink-haired friend, relishing in the hiss he'd let out when you pulled at his hair, a look of confusion and disbelief on your face. "just do what you do best and find us a movie. you're embarrassing me."

megumi seemed to have given up on the topic entirely, sitting in the only free space and frowning as he did so.

"i did!" yuji argued back, slapping your hand away from his hair and rubbing his scalp with a frown you could not see.

"no you didn't," said megumi, eyeing the tv screen critically. "why are we watching insidious chapter three before we've even watched chapters one and two?"

"because we can, porcupine, stop complaining," you answered swiftly.

"it's dumb," he said impatiently.

nobara sighed irritably. "yuji, just ignore him and put it on."

"already on it!"

but megumi hadn't quite finished his speech:

"that's like watching the fifth harry potter movie without the first," he said, afraid that if he rolled his eyes once more at your stupidity, they'd be stuck to the back of his head for good. "who does that?"

"um — like — everyone?" you replied, encouraging nobara to hit megumi for you. it was difficult to reach him when the two of you were on two different ends of the couch.

he stared at you, dumbfounded with your stubborn response. "what planet are you living on?"

you grinned. "actually, megumi, the only live-able planet that humans can live on is earth so it's not real if i said mars or something," you told him matter-of-factly, and then looked at both nobara and yuji for certainty, your voice low. "...right, guys? i'm right aren't i?"

both of them nodded:

"yeah i think so..."

"yeah..."

"live-able's not a word."

the three of you stared at him wordlessly.

"that's what you got out of that?" you said, voicing all three of your thoughts and cutting through the tense silence.

megumi ignored you, looking back at the tv screen with disdain.

"you guys are stupid, we won't understand anything happening if we skip the first two movies."

"we'll be fine," said yuji, standing up and stretching as he walked over to his mini-fridge beside his console. he looked over his shoulder as he called out to the three of you. "sprite or dr pepper?"

"sprite!"

"dr pepper!"

"water."

...

"you're so boring, porcupine!"

"yeah, who chugs a water during a horror movie?"

"i mean i have a bottle here but i didn't think anyone would actually want it —"

"shut up. all of you. yeah you too, mermaid."

you barely took the time to actually acknowledge what he was saying, barely took the time to realise that he had called you a mermaid, but it didn't matter anyway. whatever his response would be, polite or not, there was no other response you'd give than one that would insult your grumpy friend.

"i'm half convinced that you're really yuji's gramps."

yuji had come around and handed you your requested drinks with a laugh. he flopped down on his beanbag and lifted the remote with his spare hand to click on the triangle to finally play the movie.

"why am i friends with you guys?" megumi sighed, a tick in his jaw as he glared at the tv screen.

"don't be rude," said nobara, and the hiss that megumi had let out during her loud exclamation told you that she must have pinched him too.

"no nobara, this is development!" you clapped excitedly, the intro of the movie playing before the four of you. "it took him years to admit we were friends!"

megumi extended his arm over the back of the couch to tug at your hair. "i never said —"

"— he said it by accident too."

"i don't like this conversation."

nobara nudged your side and used her foot to do the same to yuji.

"he doesn't like the movie, he doesn't like the conversation. what do you like, huh?"

yuji, who had been blissfully unaware of the verbal battle going on behind him, looked over his shoulder and grinned at you. even in the dim lighting, and the flashes of light in curtesy of the film playing before you all, you could see the mischief underlining his toothy grin.

the both of you answered nobara's question at the same time:

"hana."

three out of four of you burst out laughing, struggling to breathe as megumi rested his chin on his left palm and glared intensely at the poor football plushie on the floor of yuji's room. he angrily shoved off nobara's fingers that had curled around his bicep, grumbling to himself as he did so.

"his fated one," you continued, chortling as yuji threw his head back against your knees.

hana was a girl that the four of you had met during your first few social studies classes at the beginning of the academic year. she had been lurking around the four of you for a little while, it seemed odd how she'd also sit on the table in the cafeteria right besides yours and simply stare. she clearly did not seem to mind that she had been caught (except the first three times it happened, and then after that, she'd had no shame).

after a lengthy discussion, one of which came to all sorts of theories, the most meaningful one being that hana was an undercover serial killer out for you all because of the fact that you had literally accused her of it when you'd had enough of being jump-scared by her mere existence, you found out that she was not a serial killer, she did not want to kill you, and she liked megumi fushiguro romantically.

it took a while for it to sink in:

she liked megumi fushiguro.

romantically.

and she was not shy about it at all, announcing that megumi was her 'fated' one in front of the entire class, being the first to offer herself up as a partner to him in paired work, and so much more. your favourite was when she'd introduced herself as 'hana fushiguro'.

but while megumi had disliked this very much, the rest of your little friendship circle revelled in it, wringing it out like orange in juicer.

there had been one golden opportunity that you used to push megumi and hana together. the task had been to create a poster of knowledge about the certain subtopic the class had been studying for the semester. in pairs.

yuji demanded that you be partnered up with him and you nearly obliged, but when you caught sight of a blonde haired, ditzy girl making her way towards an oblivious megumi, you stopped short of yourself and pushed yuji away from you.

"get away from me, pinkie pie," you said, ignoring yuji's 'rude!', waiting and watching as megumi strode towards you with a fierce look in his eyes. you couldn't help but laugh at his cheeks as they slowly turned pink with embarrassment.

you shook your head at him, silently communicating that you would not be his partner even if it meant that you got paired up with malakai, the class emo who always claimed that the 'darkness was consuming' him (and also visibly glitches when he does not get called by his short name - kai).

"y/n," said megumi, and you even dared to believe that he was almost at the point of begging. however, after being friends with the poor boy, you were well aware of his pesky stubborn nature.

still, that had not stopped you from being hopeful.

"maybe if you got on your knees and begged," you started cheekily.

megumi gawked at you, in megumi-fashion, brows furrowed and jaw clenched.

"you sadist."

"actually, i'm a masochist."

"..."

"..."

"that's not what it means —"

"anyways, my partner's nobara so..." you told him honestly, and the dark-haired girl had supported you as you leaned against her table she'd been seated at. "don't leave hana waiting."

megumi sighed irritably, then turned around to lock eyes with yuji, but the traitor had spun away with a too-loud laugh and babbled about how the darkness was actually very amusing as he seated himself next to malakai. megumi's eye twitched. nobody ever partnered up with malakai. it said a lot about how determined his foolish friends were.

and as if his day could not have gotten worse, miss haqq, the teacher, had finally spoken.

"megumi, why are we not partnered up, huh?" she asked, though not unkindly. "who's your partner?"

"y/n's my partner —"

you slammed your hand on the table you'd been leaning on, nobara barely flinched, and then stood up properly.

"lies!" you stated, angrily staring at your unsurprised teacher.

she let out a small breath. "y/n we're not in theatre class right now. and megumi?"

megumi shrugged, glancing at you. you bristled.

"miss he's lying," you said honestly, facing him again to stare at him critically. "who taught you to do that?"

"you," said megumi, as though it were a question even a year old baby could answer.

you stared at him, his answer recycling itself in your mind over and over again, making you become well aware of the comical silence the classroom had been left in.

"well..." you began, unsure of where you were planning on going with this, "you just... admitted... to lying... so..."

"right, megumi, find someone who's freeeee," miss haqq interrupted swiftly, extending the final letter of her sentence in an almost sing-song voice as her eyes darted left and right around the classroom before they stopped short of someone behind him. megumi wanted to die. "ah, hana's not got a partner. there you go, i knew my counting wasn't wrong."

but it hadn't ended there. megumi had, with extremely low spirits, seated himself next to the blonde girl and tried his hardest on discussing merely work-related things, all while praying that her insistent staring and odd statements would cease to exist sooner rather than later. but the universe didn't seem to be on his side. not when she first confessed to him, and certainly not now.

"y'know," hana began, in that low voice of hers she always used when talking to him specifically, "you have really nice eyes."

megumi continued to write on their large a4 sheet. "thanks," he'd said, uncomfortable. "my dad gave them."

you and nobara had been sitting in front of him, respectively working on your own poster when you overheard the awkward conversation taking place behind you. after exchanging a look of amusement with nobara, you turned in your seat to speak to hana seriously.

"i usually fight the toji... he's your father-in-law by the way."

you turned back around before megumi could spew out any nonsense about you. nobara had been gripping onto your lower arm the entire time, trying not to giggle.

you hadn't seen it, but hana beamed at the distraught boy sitting next to her, eyes radiant and bright.

"i know your dad's name now," said hana thoughtfully, and you couldn't help but think that toji would not be happy about that, but she didn't have to know that, did she? she continued to speak as though she was sitting on cloud nine itself. "it's good, i'll be more familiar with him. this must be a sign, your own friend knows... we're fated to be together."

you pinched nobara's thigh, though not had enough to bruise or hurt her. she took your signal with a small nod and leaned over the head of her chair to address the dazed girl behind her. megumi continued to glare.

"y'know it's funny," said nobara, a weird tone to her voice that megumi did not like very much, "'cause just the other day, megumi told me that fate brought you guys together."

hurriedly, nobara returned back to your a4 sheet and began working as though she hadn't just crafted megumi's doom. the two of you quietly laughed together, though it wasn't very discreet. megumi's head ached with every simultaneous shake of your shoulders.

hana was very pleased at nobara's comment, perhaps even more pleased than what you had told her prior to that. she glanced at megumi expectantly. he sighed, his grip on his pencil tightening, showcasing his blue veins.

"look —" he began, but hana had moved her chair closer to his, the loud screech of the legs of her chair against the floor momentarily leaving him deaf.

"i mean... i said the same thing before, but i never said it to you, so you couldn't have known —"

"actually you said it very loudly," interrupted megumi, trying not to sound unkind, though it wasn't very easy when everyone around him told him that he was naturally rude. "and also i never said that."

hana did not break eye contact with him as she sighed, her cheek resting against her palm lazily. megumi felt something weird simmer in his stomach. was that guilt?

it couldn't be: he had kindly rejected hana's advances countless times. it was starting to irk him now. he was only twelve, what did he know about crushes and romance? and it certainly didn't help that the three idiots that were his friends always pushed the notion that he also felt something for hana. he could not express the thought enough: he did not like hana.

"i'm sorry," he said, when it became clear that she would simply sit in silence and watch him carefully. "i don't feel the same way."

but hana merely hummed in what seemed like content. megumi was used to it. she had this thing where any rejection to her advances would go in through one ear and out through the other. so why did he still feel the slightest bit of guilt circling around his tummy?

"well," she began slowly, palm raised up as she gestured over to the two girls sitting in front of her (you and nobara), "that's two out of three of your friends that think we're good together. i just need one more for confirmation —"

"yeah i wouldn't count on it," megumi interrupted swiftly, his eyes slowly travelling over to the darkest corner of the room where yuji had been forced to sit in in order to accommodate malakai's needs. the emo didn't like sitting in the light, apparently.

but he instantly regretted his choice of movement, for yuji had caught his eye, and megumi did not like the way it gleamed with mischief. he regrettably watched as yuji stood up, addressing malakai before doing whatever the hell he planned on doing, no doubt something to do with megumi and hana.

"all right mal— i mean kai," stammered yuji, wary of uttering his full name by accident. the whole point of his speech was to make the emo feel at ease with yuji's disappearance, not to draw more attention to it. "i got something to do, so i'll be back, all right?" he explained with a grin. "the darkness around here isn't really vibing with me anyway —"

"no."

yuji's wrist had been caught by a hand colder than his mini-fridge when he'd attempted to leave. he flinched, looking down at malakai who was gripping onto him for dear life, snarling. if discomfort was an image, it'd be this very sight for yuji.

"you must not leave," said malakai, creating the very scene yuji had been desperate to avoid.

"dude, let go of me," he started, pulling at his arm to free himself of malakai's grip, but it was iron tight, cold, and incredibly strong. "dude —"

"yuji itadori," stated malakai, and yuji felt an icy shiver run down his spine. no one had ever uttered his name with such spleen. it scared him.

but before yuji could do anything else, malakai had bared his teeth at him and hissed. yuji stumbled back, visibly and audibly frightened, making a harsher attempt at getting away from his partner, an attempt that included knocking the entire table down and pushing his chair back to run.

everyone's heads had turned to the back of the classroom.

yuji scowled as malakai made an attempt to hide under the fallen table. the emo did not like attention. how ironic when he behaved like that.

"well now there's no point in moving," the pink-haired boy sighed, grimacing at the emo's weird actions. "i can just say it from here: hey hana!"

she perked up. megumi did not miss the wink she sent him. now looking at malakai's need to isolate himself from everyone, megumi thought a deep part of him understood it. not that he'd ever communicate that to anyone, and certainly not you.

"megumi told me in the locker rooms that your — er — your light basically — er — con— contradicts! — yeah that's the word — his darkness!"

"you mean 'contrasts'," said megumi, scowling.

as all eyes turned to him, particularly the pressing ones belonging to hana, megumi recoiled, ignoring your praise to yuji at catching him out.

"i never said that by the way," he quickly assured hana, but she seemed to be in her own world.

"really?" you added cheekily, "because you knew exactly what yuji meant."

"shut up, mermaid."

"now that's out of line!" you snapped, standing up and pointing a particularly sharp pencil at megumi.

"stop, y/n," said nobara, momentarily snapping you out of your thoughts as you averted your gaze over to her and slowly dropped your arm back to your side. she was right. perhaps a physical argument wasn't exactly wise. but nobara wasn't finished; she held up her scissors. "use this instead!"

you threw the pencil over your shoulder, uncaring of where it landed and joyfully took the sharp pair of scissors nobara had offered you.

megumi shook his head, snapping himself out of his own thoughts and angrily pointing at the movie playing in front of you all, his other hand fiddling with his water bottle just to have something to do with it, feeling hot and bothered.

"can we watch the movie?" he voiced, visibly annoyed.

the three of you decided that your joint discussion about megumi and hana would be put to an end seeing as you made your poor friend go through enough torment for a day. but while megumi assumed that distracting everyone from the topic at hand would be beneficial for himself, to give himself some peace and quiet and free of any and all annoyances, he found that this simply amplified the chatter out of you.

megumi had been correct, which wasn't a surprise at all.

watching the third movie before watching the first two created a lot of confusion, that of which couldn't have been kept inside you. annoyingly enough, you just had to voice it encouraging yuji and nobara to engage with you too:

"hey, who's that guy?" you thought aloud.

"that's her dad, i think," answered nobara thoughtfully. "i think his name is alex."

"no, alex is her brother," said yuji, pointing at the screen. "her dad's name is quinn."

"no it's not!"

"yes it is! isn't it, y/n?"

"no, the dad's name is elise," you said, matter-of-factly.

megumi inwardly groaned. "elise is a girl name. that's not her dad."

"okay, so explain why your name is megumi then?" you shot back at him, accusatory.

he grumbled something under his breath. you took that as a win. but it didn't end there.

not only were the characters confusing to the three of you, the story was too:

"what the hell is the man who can't breathe?" you voiced, curious and also simultaneously angry. "why won't they tell us what happened to him? how the hell are we supposed to know?"

"right?" agreed yuji loudly. "and why's he wearing an oxygen mask?"

"clearly he doesn't know style," tutted nobara, before leaning further more into your side. "why is the demon after them specifically?"

"yeah, what the hell is that about?"

"i have no idea what's going on here."

you perked up brightly. "actually, i do."

yuji turned around and beamed, though you could see the slightly frightened look in his eyes.

"you do?" he asked, hopeful.

you nodded and went off on a tangent explaining the story:

"yeah, so, basically that girl that was on the screen like a few seconds ago — i forgot her name —"

"oh you mean elise?" said nobara.

"no, not her —"

"quinn?" said yuji.

you clicked your fingers at him and nodded. "yeah! yeah, her — so she's looking to find out why the demon killed her in another life, but like, the guy — her dad, right — he's trying to stop her because he knows it'll break her. and you know dave?"

you waited expectantly. yuji and nobara shrugged.

"i don't remember a dave," your pink-haired friend commented, scratching his head while he spoke.

nobara voiced her agreement:

"yeah, i must've missed him."

"well anyways! dave is secretly the demon, so..."

yuji stared at you before looking away and nodding slowly as if he were piecing the entire plot in his head together. nobara pulled out her phone, unlocking it and muttering.

"i think we should fact-check it —"

"no don't fact-check it," you said quickly.

"idiots," grumbled megumi.

the movie progressed, just as your confusion did too.

"why did that guy beg for elise's help again?" said yuji, but only after chugging a large amount of his dr pepper, burping ungracefully after.

"ew, have some shame," snapped nobara, kicking yuji's side and relishing in the yelp he let out. "but yeah, why did that guy beg for elise's help again?"

you shrugged. "i don't know guys, let's ask megumi."

"yeah that's a good idea —"

"oh yeah, megumi —"

"don't ask megumi."

the three of you stared at him. megumi frowned.

"i don't know who said that."

"cut the crap, porcupine," you said, rolling your eyes. he looked away, guilty. "we all know it was the red-faced demon —"

he stared at you once again, deadpanned. "sure."

you ignored him. "anyways, why's the demon after their family, megumi?"

before megumi could answer, yuji cut in:

"it's getting a little scary, y'know... hey megumi, how did elise become a ghost?"

"i —"

nobara poked megumi's side. "hey, did elise kill josh or something? i don't get it."

"that's not —"

"porcupine why's quinn trying to contact her mom? why can't she just call her instead of doing rituals? ... porcupine? porcupine!"

megumi had left the couch to stand by the door, his phone pressed to his ear and his back to the movie.

"mom, can you pick me up?"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

2015-2016 seventh grade

megumi had been off. distant. unavailable, in a way.

it didn't seem like an issue to everyone else, but you could see it in the way he zoned out off conversations, found interest in next-to-nothing, and not even malakai's advances to nobara made him flinch. to an outsider, it would've seemed like megumi on a bad day (when he was acting grumpier than usual). to you, it seemed like something different and foreign was on his mind.

you didn't press him for information, not when he'd given you a short goodbye just before home-time, acting as though the two of you couldn't have walked together like normal seeing as you lived opposite one another, and not even when he'd seemed extra quiet during the last friday night dinner at satoru's.

he was always a quiet kid, sure, but something was missing, and though you couldn't quite put a finger on it, you knew you weren't overreacting.

in fact, even yuji and nobara agreed with you. apparently, during the training for the school's next football game, megumi had been completely out of it that he had to be benched for the rest of the game — according to yuji.

at the moment, the two of you were sitting together for homeroom. the day had just about started, and though you had been forced to sit at the very front, right across the teacher's desk (apparently you couldn't be trusted to sit elsewhere) you disobediently sat right next to megumi at the back of the classroom, ignoring his look of confusion, the most emotion he'd shown within the past week.

"what're you doing?"

"shut up, porcupine," you hissed, slumping in your seat so you wouldn't get caught. "you'll draw attention!"

"you'll get in trouble," he said blankly.

you grinned lazily. "that's what you said about... eight or nine years ago when i sat next to you in kindergarten, remember?"

megumi seemed almost dazed, as though he were in a dream. he'd been displaying odd emotions for the last week, but you'd never seen him so pliable like now, eyes focused yet unfocused, drawn to you and only you as if everybody else didn't exist. was it something you said? was it something you'd done?

you didn't know how to go about it, so you merely laughed, just as megumi answered your question.

"yeah," he said, frowning slightly.

"and then you weren't just wrong," you continued carelessly. "you were so, so wrong, that we even ended up becoming best friends! you didn't see that coming, did you?"

megumi stared at you. you were too busy wondering why nobara had allowed malakai into the seat next to her, though perhaps she hadn't actually allowed him. it explained why she was voicing to him an array of all types of colourful threats.

you glanced back at megumi, noticing his dark pupils following every movement of yours. you laughed.

"megumi stop staring at me," you chortled, covering your face and finding it difficult to speak and laugh at the same time. your stomach hurt as a result. "stop why do you look possessed! ... okay megumi it's not funny anymore, you're scaring me."

you frowned when he rolled his eyes at you. at least some part of him was still alive. you had an idea to bring back every part of him, even more so when his gaze landed on you once more, his poker-face falling slowly. he almost looked upset.

"so i came to a revelation yesterday," you told him, smiling. "i think the earth's flat."

you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, expecting a major reaction, expecting a number of colourful insults, expecting him, megumi.

all you got was the silence that had been radiating off of him for the entire week. at least you knew for sure that you weren't imagining things: your friend was dealing with something so big, it distracted him from your outrageous declaration.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the walk home wasn't exactly pleasant either. you did most of the talking, which wasn't completely out of the ordinary, but before all of this unknown drama circulating with megumi, he had the decency to give his input here and there. now, however, it was simply as though you were talking to a brick wall, barely any response to your comments. if you were lucky enough, you'd receive a small grunt or a nod of acknowledgement. but it was fruitless, essentially.

it was almost boring.

you were never bored with megumi. ever.

you had no idea what had him so occupied, but your attempts at conversation had become so dry, you opted to remain silent the rest of the way, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder as you gazed at the houses you passed by, internally questioning and critiquing the exterior design, knowing that mentioning it aloud to megumi would be less exciting than in your head.

the two of you had made it past the traffic lights by this point, now entering the calm scenery that was your neighbourhood. the roads were empty, only occasionally did a few cars make their way through. the sun had only just started to set, still high in the sky, but vibrant enough to blind you with its soft, orange glow. as the two of you reached the end of the road and turned left to where your houses would be after another few minutes of walking, you spotted one of the houses that had been newly sold to a family of four. it seemed that their moving in process was still ongoing, for the van that carried all their boxes was still parked in front of the house.

you had half a mind to go over and introduce yourselves, find some excitement in forcing megumi to do some socialising with you and relishing in the little scowl he'd sport that nobody but you would be able to notice, but megumi had turned and walked the opposite way before you could say anything.

"let's go this way," was all he'd said, knowing you'd follow him questioningly.

and follow him questioningly you did, turning around and demanding answers for why he insisted on taking the long way home instead of the time-efficient way. it was unlike him. but you'd noticed, within this entire week, megumi hadn't really been himself, had he?

the very last thing you wanted to do was pressure him into telling you what parasite he had become victim to. yet, you had no idea how to approach such a serious topic. the two of you had never tested such waters before. everything you'd been through together had been comical, humorous, never once drowning in the sea of weighty situations.

you just weren't made for it (even if megumi looked the part).

"at least carry me if you're gonna make me walk the long way home," you complained loudly.

megumi didn't respond. you watched him with furrowed brows before giving up the amusing act altogether and sighed loudly.

"what's going on?" you asked him, extending an arm to grab at his and half his movements.

the streets were void of any pressing ears. he had no excuse hiding whatever it was for longer.

megumi didn't shrug you off like you expected him to. instead, he stared at you, jaw clenched and brows furrowed.

"you're being weird," you added, when it became quite clear that he wouldn't respond. your hand fell limp at your side again. "i don't like it."

to your surprise, instead of walking off without a second thought, he shrugged. "don't know what you're talking about."

"don't play dumb with me," you said firmly. "yuji told me you got benched."

megumi's brow twitched. he didn't look too pleased about you knowing, it seemed. you felt like you were walking on eggshells. you hated it.

"fine," you said gently, though your expression remained fierce. "don't tell me. but i —"

you let out a small breath, finding difficulty in searching for the right words to use. you were angry at yourself, but also at the education system. schools should focus on training kids on how to approach situations like these, for you'd never felt so clueless in your life.

"i'm — i'm always here," you struggled to spit out, "if you want to talk."

megumi stared at you with an expression you couldn't quite place. of course, it was the usual monotonous look, the standard half-lidded eyes and small scowl, jaw tense which would have made an outsider assume he was angry. but you knew better. even with that odd mask, there was always something lingering behind it: that was his happy face as well as his sad, angry, confused, shocked face.

with that list came a new addition, the one displayed shamelessly before you, though you couldn't quite place what it was. though as much as you wanted to discover this nameless emotion, time was cruel, and megumi had already cut it short by choosing to walk the long way home.

you took a small step back.

"okay now laugh," you said hurriedly.

megumi recoiled. "huh?"

"laugh," you repeated, unrelenting. "this is so weird so i need you to laugh."

he raised a sharp brow at you. "look who you're talking to."

you slapped your hand against your forehead in shock. "you're right!" you exclaimed, as the two of you began the long trek back to your houses. "if you laugh, the earth would turn upside down!"

"that's not possible."

the walk home had been a lot more pleasant than the ones you'd experienced with him the last four days.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the sky resembled a painting you'd seen a few years back when you took a trip to the art museum with uncle ogi and your mom: it was dark, very dark, but the sparkles dotted around each cloud illuminated the night sky, brightening it enough for you to examine it better than one who stared at a sky with no stars whatsoever. you'd heard that apparently in some countries, the pollution was so bad to the point where the stars weren't even the slightest bit visible; you couldn't imagine that. what was a sky with no stars? what was a day with no sun? what was a night with no moon?

what were you without megumi?

no, really, where the hell was he? he said he'd meet you up on his rooftop in a few, but you'd been idly watching the clouds move above your head for a good ten minutes. as beautiful as it was, it wasn't much of an experience without your grump of a friend himself.

content with watching the stars alone, megumi had finally decided to show himself, climbing up from the ladder attached to the roof of the house and pulling himself up through the ceiling window to meet you. he crawled his way over, explaining his absence.

"dad needed me to hide the broken vase from mom."

your brows knitted themselves together. "the china one?"

"yeah," he nodded, sitting next to you and hanging his elbows off of his bent knees. "i didn't help him."

"i didn't think you would," you admitted with a laugh. "wasn't it the fonthill dragon jar? the one sold for twelve milli—"

"— million dollars?" he finished off bitterly. "yeah, that's why i didn't help him."

you hummed, leaning towards him slightly to speak in hushed tones for fear of any eavesdroppers that might run off to megumi's mother and snitch.

"it wasn't a very pretty vase, though —"

"just say it's ugly —"

"— yeah it's ugly."

it was quiet then, quiet enough that if one paid close attention to the scene, the sounds of crickets may be heard. it wasn't a chilly night, hence the lack of thick sweaters on both you and megumi, but you didn't feel as warm as one would have expected. you'd been feeling this way for the past week. whatever megumi had been actively hiding from you had caused a small rift, one you weren't very fond of.

you watched him carefully out of your peripheral vision. he seemed less tense, less angry. his shoulders had drooped, as if a bunch of weights that had been accumulating on them had dropped significantly. megumi's jaw had remained tight the entire week, yet as you stared at the line leading up to his chin and mouth, you noticed how relaxed it seemed. in turn, your jaw loosened, the distance between you and him closing. perhaps whatever your friend was going through was now long forgotten, long over.

"i'm gonna tell mom about the vase," he said, breaking the tense silence as the two of you gazed up at the stars blinking down at you. the moon was full tonight.

"i expected nothing less," you replied, chuckling.

"and the earth isn't flat, dummy."

you could feel his eyes burning holes on your right cheek. you repressed the urge to burst out laughing.

at least you knew for certain, now, that megumi was okay. his consistent need to be right finally returning after its long hiatus, and though it had been extremely annoying over the last eight years, you found it rather endearing too (you'd take a bullet before admitting it to him). megumi wasn't megumi without his unshakeable personality.

"so you were listening to me after all," you stated, averting you gaze from the captivating the stars to the moon sitting next to you.

he blinked at you, bemused.

"i always listen."

and for the rest of that night, you couldn't shake off the feeling that whatever megumi had been hiding, it had something to do with you.

you were glad it was in the past now.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

2016-2017 eighth grade

mr andersen's homework had been left untouched on your desk for about two weeks (despite being given an extension because he was well aware just how bad at math you were). you were tired, exhausted, and drained: middle school was no joke. it was times like these — where some random dude decided that adding letters to the already-difficult math equations — that you felt like taking a knife and driving it clean through your heart.

you got up, a lightbulb hovering just above your head as you beamed, scrambling to take your phone out of charge and scrolling through your contact list.

— go-go-go-joe! (27 missed calls) — nobara <3 — yuji :) (1 missed call) — mother — porcupine 👺

there he was — porcupine — you clicked his number and pressed the phone to your ear, lying flat on your bed once again. it dialled for all of five seconds before you heard his grumpy voice on the other end of the line:

"what do you want?"

you sighed, putting on your theatre skills to show.

"megumi..." you groaned weakly, following that with a fake cough.

"..."

you coughed again. "megumi — ahem — i'm sick."

"sucks to be you."

you repressed the desire to start yelling at him, cursing him out due to his lack of empathy. it doesn't matter whether you were faking an illness or not — as a friend, megumi was supposed to offer help, advice, ask whether you were doing well or not. you remembered a time where his mom had to take him to therapy, concerned about his lack of feeling. it was a funny day, that was.

you tried again, coughing twice more this time.

"i think i have a — *cough* — a fever," you said, trying your best to sound as physically weak as possible. you got up, gently swiping your hair away from your face as you slowly made your way to the window. " *cough* — i can't do a-any homework today..."

"that so?" said megumi.

you nodded, almost forgetting that he couldn't see you. you draped one of your arms over your waist, the other hand still pressing your phone to your ear.

it had rained a little while ago, puddles forming by the sidewalk. the grass looked damp yet very shiny and silky beneath the weak light protruding from the sun, its very presence hiding behind the prominent clouds, thick as cotton candy.

"i just — i can't get out of bed right now — *cough* — megumi."

"yeah, must be difficult."

your lip curled. "yes! — i mean — *cough* — yes... i'm so glad you understand."

megumi responded almost immediately. such a good friend, you thought. you almost felt bad for deceiving him, but it just had to be done. perhaps if you had megumi's brains for math, none of this would be happening. so in a way, it was all his fault.

yeah, that made sense. he brought this upon himself.

"you probably can't stand up straight either," he said, and you almost let out a chuckle.

"mhm — it's so — *cough* — ugh, i hate this." you decided it was time to cage the dog. "i was thinking... erm... *cough, cough* ... maybe you could do my homework — *cough* — like last time? i'm really, really sick."

"yeah, sick to the point where you can't get out of bed —"

"yes, megumi! see — *cough* — see i knew you'd understand... you're such a great friend!"

absentmindedly, you fiddled with the fabric of your beige curtains.

"maybe you should look outside to help you feel better," he suggested.

you grinned, looking up without realising it.

"that's a good ide—"

you stopped short of yourself, met with the sight of megumi staring right through your soul from his own bedroom window. lo and behold, one of the disadvantages of living right across from your best friend.

you froze.

"you should probably use your mermaid powers and heal yourself —"

"that's not how it works!" you snapped, furious.

you stumbled, your hands immediately grabbing the curtains and circling yourself with it, hiding yourself from view. and before he could embarrass you any further (because he absolutely would, that was megumi fushiguro), you hung up, heart returning to its usual pace and eyes wide with shock.

you hurriedly unravelled yourself from the curtains and shut them closed, walking off in annoyance.

"creep," you muttered under your breath.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

fear choked you as you gasped for breath, your lungs constricting in on itself, the back of your knees burning with each stride. with every step, the voice in the back of your head encouraged you to continue, reminding you that you had to keep it up; you only countered back with the question of whether it was all worth it or not. it certainly hadn't seemed like it, with the hairs at the back of your neck sticking to your warm skin and your palms growing increasingly sweaty.

running had never been an issue for you. you quite liked it when you were a kid, enjoying such activities like playing tag or red-light-green-light or chasing megumi (that one was, perhaps, your most favourite of them all, despite megumi's disdain).

now, however, as you ran for your life, you hated every bit of it. you hated the way the air slapped at your face in your hasty strides, you hated the way the adrenaline ran beneath your skin with excitement you couldn't quite understand, and you hated the way you could barely breathe, as if a block of wood had been lodged into your throat. you couldn't remember the last time you felt this way. coach yaga had made you run laps before, but none of them were as painful as this.

and it was all satoru's fault, which no one had let him forget the entire marathon towards the airport.

"why on earth did you suggest taking a shortcut here if you were already on time?" demanded uncle ogi, the lines on his forehead becoming more and more prominent as everyone dragged their bags and belongings with them.

you'd finally entered the building after what felt like ten long and dawdling years. the summer heat had already made you feel faint and uncomfortable, and the marathon everyone had been collectively (forcefully) participating in had only made it a hundred times worse. the sticky feeling beneath your pits and arms felt like you'd just emerged from out of a pool of your own seat. your shirt stuck to your skin like glue.

megumi's dad spoke up angrily.

"he's an idiot, that's why."

you couldn't help but think that he barely looked fazed by the constant running. he only seemed to care about the lack of time everyone had to get to the airport on time.

but uncle ogi did not seem to find that a valid reason, abruptly turning to look at him with visible frustration.

"and why the hell did you fools follow him?"

maki, who was running silently in front of both you and megumi, had reached up and pulled at her father's ponytail. his head had practically snapped backwards to glare down at her.

surprised (and pleasantly amused), you stopped in your tracks, taking a moment to not only breathe, but use that breather to let out a loud laugh. megumi was not pleased by this at all; his hand that had been clasping yours for the entirety of the adventure had tightened harshly, pulling at you to snap you out of your reverie.

"stop," he said, looking dishevelled as the two of you fell straight back into your routine and sped past several strangers behind the rest of your family.

"i did," you responded cheekily, complying with each pull and tug of megumi's hand.

despite all the noise ringing in your ears, the chatter of the public the and cries of several babies, you could still hear maki's harsh voice cut through the air.

"stop fussing," she snapped. "you don't have to be here, y'know."

the lines on uncle ogi's forehead disappeared to accentuate the crease newly-formed between his brows as he glared down at her. oddly enough, you thought he seemed to be faring well with all the running, despite his old age.

"i'm the driver, smart ass!" he shot back, silencing maki as she rolled her eyes at him.

he wasn't lying: all of you had travelled in two separate cars to arrive at the airport. in your mom's car, your mom, satoru, toji, megumi's mom, tsumiki (toji's goddaughter), you and megumi had been in. in uncle ogi's car, uncle ogi, maki, mai, suguru, and mimiko and nanako (suguru's adopted daughters).

satoru had messed around with the gps in the passenger seat at some point, insisting that he knew a shortcut with such confidence, your mom had been too lazy to care about the way he'd toggled with it, brows furrowed with the tip of his tongue poking out of the side of his smooth lips. uncle ogi had been following your mom's car, so collectively, everyone ended up being late.

uncle ogi wasn't done there though, his gaze hardening even further before he added his final comment. "and what did i say about pulling my hair?"

maki turned to you and scowled when you kept the smile plastered over your face.

"you wait till we get home —"

"ogi stop threatening maki!" megumi's mom called out from ahead, her voice faint yet every bit demanding.

your legs had long since given up on their own. each movement they made only felt like someone had sent multiple bullets to drive themselves into you, tiring you out and evoking so much pain from you. you couldn't go on any longer, not with the feeling of your shirt practically suffocating you amongst the heat of the crowded airport. you ached to feel some cool air brush against your warm skin, however, the longer you continued to run, the less likely that would ever happen.

you raised your head slightly, chest heaving as you eyed the muscled back belonging to none other than toji himself. your left hand, feeling too warm in megumi's, had been released from its gentle shackles when megumi immediately stepped away from you, almost as if he practically sensed the exact thought you had in mind. you didn't complain, bending your knees (ignoring the momentary burning sensation it brought you) and jumping up, arms gripping onto toji's broad shoulders, ignoring his surprised grunting and struggling as you adjusted your hold on him.

"that's better," you sighed, grip iron-like as he shook himself in a failed attempt to throw you off. to someone watching from afar, they probably thought he looked like a dog.

"get off me, gremlin —"

"it wouldn't kill you to hold her for a bit," said megumi's mom, and that in itself was enough to silence toji. he begrudgingly jogged with you on his back, making no attempt to hold onto your legs as he dragged his — and his wife's — suitcases along.

your mom looked back, no longer running and now confused at the statement before seeing your face hidden in the tall man's shoulders. she sighed.

"y/n, get off of—" she began, before turning away and catching up to suguru, who was running beside his best friend whilst carrying nanako and mimiko, each girl under each arm. "ugh, i tried to care."

jumping onto toji's hard back was probably the best idea you came up with all day. looking down at everyone made you feel superior. the fact that you no longer needed to run along with everyone made you feel superior. the burning at the back of your knees had started to dim, and simultaneously, your heart beat had slowly started to return back down to its normal pace. however, now there was a slight strain in your arms, curtesy of toji being completely unhelpful in keeping you propped up on him, forcing you to hold onto him with all your might. though you'd still argue that this was far better than all that dreadful and tiring running.

you surveyed everything else around you, watching it all pass by in a blur: you could barely tell that the blue waiting seats were, indeed, blue waiting seats with how fast toji seemed to be sprinting. once at the back of the group, now you were nearly at the front, and through it all, megumi still seemed to be at your side, considerably shorter than you were used to.

you laughed, kicking his side with your foot.

"i'm taller than you now, porcupine!"

you couldn't tell whether he was scowling or not, but you'd bet your life that he was.

"normalcy has been restored," you sighed dreamily.

"hey, which gate?" asked megumi's mom, her hands bare and empty since her husband silently offered to carry her things. that was before this entire predicament. you imagined that he definitely regretted that now.

you couldn't see satoru's face, only met with the sight of the back of his head, but you heard him well nonetheless.

"terminal four," he'd answered, and even suguru stared at him in bewilderment.

"yeah, we know that," said toji, already frustrated as it was. "what gate?"

silence only followed after that. satoru's dark haired companion turned back once more with a scowl, gently lowering his two girls back to their feet despite their obvious discontent.

"for fu— he doesn't know what gate," he stated, annoyed. he then shoved the white-haired male. "give me back our tickets —"

"what?" satoru riposted, shocked and angry though he had no right to be. "why?"

suguru looked like he wanted to throttle him. "'cause you can't be trusted, idiot!"

everyone had stopped running by this point, meaning that there was no use for you to be held up by toji's useful back. he seemed to acknowledge this as the adults began to argue, shaking you off with more force than prior. you got the message, hopping down from your personal vehicle and stumbling into megumi's side. the boy held onto your arms to stop you from falling, and you pushed him away in thanks.

"the hell?" he questioned lowly.

you shrugged, observing the adults with a look of mild curiosity.

"does that mean you'll miss your flight?" you commented briefly.

"this is so embarrassing," mai added lowly, turning away from the unhinged people that were your family. "why did we even have to come along if we're not the ones leaving?"

"to say goodbye," you responded, as though it were the most obvious thing on the planet.

there were a lot of things you liked about mai, but equally, a lot of things you also disliked about her too. how entitled she acted, how rude she could sometimes be, how maki was just all around the better twin, though you never admitted this out loud. though your silence did speak volumes, even if you didn't know it.

"we'll see them again in a few weeks," she said airily. "how long are you staying there, megumi?"

he shrugged. you didn't think he was too fond her either. although, megumi didn't really like anyone, so that wasn't a fair argument. when this entire trip had been planned, the main issue he had was the fact that the only people that would be going that are his age are mimiko and nanako, and over the years, there was this unspoken competition between satoru's kids (you and megumi) and suguru's kids (mimiko and nanako). as amusing as it was to the adults, megumi took it quite seriously. he didn't think he could deal with them on his own.

you weren't accompanying him on this trip: it would be just him, satoru, his mom and dad, tsumiki, suguru, and mimiko and nanako.

he wouldn't communicate it to you, he wouldn't even text it to you, but he didn't think it'd be very enjoyable without you.

for one, he would have to deal with satoru's constant teasing all on his own (on the very rare occasion that you'd argue against satoru, you were quite helpful). he would be forced to interact with the twins on his own by his mother (usually his mom made the both of you do that, together). there were multiple other things he'd have to do alone on this trip. none of them would be as... dare he think... exciting as hanging out with you.

even throughout all of that, he was beyond grateful that he at least had tsumiki tagging along with him.

it still wouldn't be the same without you since you and tsumiki were not alike. though you were both kind hearted and held very highly in megumi's good graces, tsumiki was an entire grade older than the two of you and held this motherly nature around her despite it. she was, in better terms, like the sister he never had.

"maybe you won't be separated from us after all, porcupine," you said, gesturing to the adults that were still arguing (suguru had satoru in a headlock somehow, when did that happen?).

"yeah, you'll just miss your flight," added maki, nudging your side. that was probably her biggest way of showing affection. you'll take it.

you watched the scene unfold before you: toji and satoru were absolutely ripping each other apart with insults thrown back and forth. megumi's mom seemed to be the one trying to calm things down with the aid of suguru who usually never sided with toji on anything, but seemed to have no choice but to. all the while, uncle ogi was taking up his anger with your mom, who seemed to only care about leaving this place sooner rather than later.

"i'll sit on you," toji had threatened, fist raised at the blue-eyed male.

satoru stood up straight, head to head with him in response.

"yeah?" he challenged, smug. "so what, you're saying you're fat then? is that it?"

toji recoiled. if you squinted your eyes hard enough, you would probably spot the smoke flying out of his ears.

"what?" he demanded, voice carrying around the area.

"hey y/n!" satoru had randomly yelled, addressing you but his eyes refusing to leave toji's.

you froze, unsure of whether you liked where this was going. you had half a mind to step behind megumi and use his tall frame to conceal yourself. knowing your friend, you knew he'd probably be a traitor and step away from you instead.

"y/n! he said he's fat! did you hear that?"

you wanted to jump into a hole and just lay there as time went on and as the world moved on. nothing was more embarrassing to you than that horrific time where you truly believed that toji fushiguro was a 'fat man'. praying daily for everyone to forget that ever happened was deemed useless now that the issue arose again.

"i will sit on you, gojo," toji threatened again, eyes narrowed. "i will do it—"

"okay fatty!" sang satoru, speaking over toji's threats. "fatty, fatty, fatty, fatty—"

"— i'll sit on you —"

"— fatty, fatty, fatty —"

"satoru stop it, you're causing a scene!" megumi's mom ordered, voice harsh and authoritative.

he went as far as placing his hands over his ears to block everyone else out while he continued to sing the words 'fatty' repetitively. your mom stepped away from the scene, looking very much sheepish and uncomfortable.

toji glared at suguru, raising a pointer finger at him as satoru continued to sing. "you better tell him to stop it right now or i'll squash him like a bug!"

suguru's eyes widened, both shocked and angry. "the hell am i supposed to do about it?"

"oi!" interrupted uncle ogi, gripping satoru by the ear and twisting.

the singing had stopped, though the commotion hadn't.

"ow, ow, ow!" whined satoru, his head being pulled down to uncle ogi's height with each twist of his ear.

the whole ordeal had grabbed the attention of passersby, and several of them at that. a lot of the lines were empty due to the late arrival of the family, however, for the strangers that had stayed behind for whatever reasons, each of them seemed very invested in the drama unfolding before you.

maki and mai had both stepped forward to calm the arguing, though it only proved useless when it started intensifying at their involvement. you and megumi approached tsumiki, still glancing at the rest of your chaotic family with critical expressions.

"i'll miss you guys," you said thoughtfully, and you meant it even if you didn't mention it much. you would never say that to one person alone, tsumiki's mere presence brought you the comfort needed to express your thoughts with a little more freedom.

"we'll miss you too," tsumiki quickly added, briefly glancing at megumi. "won't we?"

"no."

tsumiki smiled nonetheless. "he's lying."

you smiled. "i know. megumi's the biggest liar ever —"

"look who's talking," he scoffed sourly.

you and tsumiki both ignored him as though he hadn't said anything insulting at all.

"i don't think you'll be missing this though," she continued, amusement clear in her soft voice as she regarded the loud argument.

with toji threatening to kill satoru, satoru came up with a very unique rebuttal:

"see this?" he said loudly, lifting up his phone, the latest model. he turned it over so the back of his phone was presented to the angry man. he jammed a pointer finger at the flawed apple. "i'll turn you into that, yeah? i'll turn you into an apple —"

"why you little —"

to make matter's worse, a security guard had stalked over, smaller in height yet bulky enough to make up for it.

"hey! what's going on here?"

"oh — no — they're family," said your mom, finally walking back to the group to ease tensions.

satoru turned away with a scoff.

"i'm not related to that pumbaa look-alike," he'd snapped, jamming his sunglasses further up his nose.

toji stood up straighter. "yeah i'm not too crazy about being related to skinny santa over there either."

satoru's jaw dropped, his hand enclosed around the bottom of his hoodie. he lifted it up despite the protests from around him.

"you wish you had these abs —"

uncle ogi slapped the back of his head. "put it back down you damn harlot —"

tsumiki laughed behind her hands, only forcing megumi to somewhat scold her for her amusement.

"it's not funny," he said, frowning. "they're being dumb."

"yeah you're right, megumi," she agreed, too quickly. you caught the knowing look she sent you once he turned his head to look back at the scene. "they're being very dumb."

tsumiki didn't wait for megumi to catch on to her teasing, walking off towards maki and mai to observe the argument from a closer distance. her low pony tail swung itself left and right as she walked, her hair shining under the different lighting.

it didn't take long before the argument had ceased to exist: suguru examined the tickets thoroughly (after quite the argument with satoru to get them off of him to begin with) and even approached a person of higher knowledge to help everyone with finding the correct gate and so on. it only meant one thing for you: the time for you and half of the family to part ways had caught up to you all.

you hadn't expected your goodbye to be so rushed when megumi's mother called the two of you over and nearly broke all the bones in your body after wrapping her arms around you. you didn't get much time to breathe before you found yourself squeezed against satoru's side in a one-armed hug.

"aw, don't cry, y/n —"

you looked up at him, raising a brow. "i'm literally not even —"

"it's fine, i'll be back in a few weeks!"

you shoved him away. "just get away from me."

suguru seemed to be the only normal person, hugging you briefly before rubbing the top of your head affectionately.

his daughters didn't get the same treatment you gave him. instead, you urged them to come closer and gave your request in hushed tones.

"take as many ugly pictures of megumi as you can."

before they could question you, everyone was called over to cross the gate for the flight.

that was it, then, you realised, as the twins hurried over to follow their dad. you wouldn't be with everyone for the next three to four weeks. everything was going too fast — megumi's parents had already crossed the gate, along with tsumiki who was closely followed by suguru and his kids. uncle ogi, your mom, maki and mai had all stepped back to watch them leave.

though they'd be back after the four weeks, it only just hit you like a whiplash how different your summer would be. you spent most of your time with megumi, and if not with him, then with the rest of this family, coming up with crazy adventures that even yuji and nobara would tag along with. the friday night dinners that was a weekly routine for everyone would be abolished temporarily, because they were always held at satoru's place and he'd be gone on this vacation.

tsumiki wouldn't be able to help you with your homework (or rather, do it herself) when megumi would refuse to over the phone. you wouldn't be able to gossip with megumi's mom as often either, nor bother megumi's dad in your free time with satoru.

you could hardly turn around to find megumi before you stumbled back at how close he'd randomly appeared behind you.

"don't miss me too much," you said, to cover up how he practically scared your soul out of your body a second ago.

"don't blow up my phone," he shot back, a small jab at how even the distance between your homes was too far for you, resulting in the spamming of his phone with memes and random texts.

your shoulders dropped with a sigh.

"i'm going to miss you," you said at last, and if it wasn't going to be him, you'd break the ice yourself and cut to the chase.

megumi's lips parted as if to say something back. you didn't wait for his response, stepping forward and doing something you'd never actually done before:

you hugged him.

and it didn't feel forced. it certainly didn't feel awkward. megumi, despite his cold exterior, held this warmth around him that you felt touch your skin when your arms wrapped around his neck and you stood on the tips of your toes to be able to rest your chin on his shoulder. if you'd known this earlier, perhaps there would have been several hugs that would have happened sooner.

relishing in the feeling of his presence felt good just as much as it felt bittersweet. it wasn't as though you'd never see him again, you knew that he'd be back; it was the fact that since you met him several years ago, you unknowingly lost the ability to function without him.

it felt stupid to even think about. you were certain he didn't feel the same way — you didn't really care much if that was true.

your porcupine would probably grow another few inches over the weeks he'd be away from you, and you wouldn't be able to fuss and throw a tantrum about it in his presence.

megumi's hands had remained motionless for the next few seconds, seemingly confused about their position. you felt the gentle touch of his hands just above your waist and nearly laughed at his hesitation. you had half a mind to tease him about it, but felt that time (or lack thereof) was on his side.

"you better bring back lots of candy," you said, smiling into his shoulder. "the kind that we don't have here, okay?"

"you'll get a cavity," you heard him murmur.

you grinned.

"we'll get a cavity," you corrected, pulling away and staring up at him with wide eyes. "you'll be eating them with me, porcupine."

he raised a hand and flicked your forehead. you expected it. you let him do it (and that would be the first and last time you'd ever allow it to happen). when he muttered 'dumb mermaid' under his breath, you didn't step on his foot or pull his hair or even twist his ear. although the voice at the back of your head encouraged you to cause a scene, you thought that your family had already caused enough damage and drama. the security guard's face in the corner of the room told you exactly how exasperating that already was. there was no need to make his job even harder than it already was.

you stepped aside as a silent opening for megumi to finally leave. he made his way towards the gate, carrying his suitcase with him.

"megumi," you called out to him.

he looked over at you without hesitation, cheeks slightly pink. you couldn't blame him, the summer heat was almost unbearable.

you scratched the back of your neck.

"can you just hurry up and go? i'm getting this intrusive thought about going past the gate."

he scowled at you. he didn't know why he expected anything different.

"you can't."

"exactly," you said, as though it were the most clearest thing. "but i absolutely will —"

"m/n —" he said calmly, your mother immediately responding by wrapping her arms around your neck from behind you.

"go on, megumi," she told him.

he joined satoru, who had been waiting for him to finish his goodbye session with you, silent throughout it all. it was odd for his character, really. satoru was the loudest and most disruptive person you knew yet he never once intervened with your conversation with megumi. or maybe he was just distracted with the picture of that pretty woman on his phone, who knows?

"you were taking years," you heard satoru tell his godson. "i think my whites were starting to turn into greys —"

there was a pause as satoru peered down at megumi, his glasses easily sliding down the bridge of his nose as he tilted his head.

"hey," he began, with innocent curiosity, "why are you so red?"

"shut up i'm hot," megumi snapped back, awfully defensive.

satoru's brows furrowed. he was used to megumi's bites. he found it all too amusing, enough for him to force it out of him on purpose. he knew he was successful when megumi would resort to barking at the height of his anger... however, this time, he was barely trying to aggravate him. this came as a surprise.

but when satoru thought about it — really thought about it — he found it as satisfying as putting the two final pieces of a puzzle together, as amusing as the click of the charging wire being pushed into his phone, as fascinating as colour co-ordinated books on a library shelf.

and he found it funny as hell.

"oh," he said at first, getting used to the idea before it really hit him, like the soccer he'd accidentally kicked into the face several years ago of a special girl he knows. "OHHH —"

"shut up," growled megumi, glaring at satoru with a sideways glance, not fully staring up at him head on like he usually would because he was embarrassed.

megumi fushiguro was actually embarrassed! what beautiful thing had satoru done in his past life to witness such a thing?

"i see now —"

megumi wanted to snap satoru's neck. "i'll hurt you," he threatened sharply.

but satoru was in his own world, grinning like a maniac and showing off his pearly whites. "megumi has a cr—"

"kfc."

satoru nearly broke down right there and then. megumi thought it served him right, meddling in business that wasn't his. teasing him about something he'd never actually thought off.

it was safe to say that satoru had remained angry at him for the rest of the flight (he even developed an attitude towards suguru, who was left utterly confused with the random change in mood from his best friend).

megumi had never loved the silent treatment more that day.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

the family returned from their vacation on a friday but were so jet lagged, they spent all of that day and the next sleeping off with no contact. it was on a special sunday that everyone had gathered at megumi's house to reunite, share gifts and experiences, and become one again. even your dad had come back from his travelling spree and brought back a ton of stuff for the rest of the family to go through.

megumi had brought over the candy he'd promised, along with a lot of other stuff he discovered over the course of the four weeks he was gone for. currently, it was being held captive by toji who was refusing to give them to you until you 'behaved' — whatever the hell that meant.

so to take your mind off of that (you planned on retrieving them later anyway) mimiko and nanako had showed you all the pictures they'd taken of megumi as promised. going through them with tsumiki and his mom by the kitchen was the funniest thing. somehow, one of the twins had managed to draw a moustache on him while he was asleep. you had a feeling that the morning after wasn't very pleasant.

but after going through everything and having lots and lots of conversations about what everyone got up to over the summer, you'd grown antsy and restless over the things toji was keeping from you.

enough was enough.

"can i have my gifts now?" you said, eyeing the possessive hand he'd placed over your box of unknown things.

he regarded you with a look of annoyance.

"no," he answered coldly.

"why not?" you whined, desperate.

he was sporting a glass of alcohol. perhaps he was just drunk and taking whatever anger he'd gotten from his testosterone out on you.

"you changed your ways yet, kid?" he questioned vaguely.

you looked around, clueless and in shock. why was no one coming to your aid? couldn't they see how unjust and odd this was? what the hell was he even talking about?

"what does that even mean?" you said loudly, gaining the attention of the rest of the family around you.

"you're not getting anything till you start fixing that attitude, brat," he decided, firm. "looks like you never will though, so you'll get it when pigs fly."

you tilted your head at him, mildly confused.

"but you just got off a plane two days ago."

every bit of chatter had died down, silence radiating around the large room. someone could drop a pin on the floor and the sound would simply echo tumultuously. even mimiko and nanako, who were both always engrossed in their phones, had glanced up to pay attention. you could only hear the sound of toji's loud breaths. when you met his gaze, you thought he looked like someone had pissed in his cereal.

there was a snort from somewhere behind you. if you had to guess, it was probably from satoru, though you wouldn't be too surprised if it actually turned out to be suguru or even mai.

stupefied, stunned, and shocked, toji lifted your gift, enclosed in messy wrapping paper, and threw it out of the window, all without ungluing his eyes from yours.

you didn't question the first action that came to your mind. running to the window to throw yourself after it, ignoring the yells of your family and the arms that had held you back once you'd made your jump — your father's, you'd noticed, when he laughed at your foolishness instead of scolding you.

everyone had turned to scolding toji instead:

"seriously, toji?" his wife said, expression grave. "did you have to go that far?"

"you know she'd go and dive after it," your mom added with a pressing look.

toji grimaced. "since when did you care about anything?"

"since my daughter nearly threw herself out of an open window with no protective gear on —"

and all the while, you lingered at the back of the room with your gift unwrapped, grimacing when satoru rubbed your head in praise for coming up with a response as 'sick as that' — his words, not yours.

the joke continued to exist, even after several months. toji never lived down the day that you had made him look a fool in front of several people. some things just never change.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

notes: spam ty in the chat rn bitches

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

taglist (send an ask or comment to be added):

@1l-ynn @shaigimo @shuupiu

© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

[randomgurl2326]

Ignorance Is Bliss Pt. 1

A/N: Thank you to the beautiful Anon for requesting this fic. This has been one of my delusions that help me sleep at night. So, may I please introduce you to the ‘she fell first but he fell harder’ trope that we all love. With, of course, Ema and Mickey helping and hoping for them to get together💚💜

As the h/c girl closed her locker, Ema was yet again tired of the ongoing “will-they-won’t-they” of the l/n girl and the Spindell boy. “All I’m saying is, maybe you should tell him because you’ve been hopelessly in love with him since fifth grade.”

Y/N pointed at Ema and said with a cheeky smile, “ah no, sixth grade, get it right. Also, there is no way in hell that I’m going to tell him, alright?”

Worth that the Winslow best friend sighed, and the two best friends walked to French class.

Meanwhile with a Mickey and Spoon…

“…a-and she has this thing where whenever she’s talking about something she likes that she does with her hair, y’know, like this,” the rambling Spindell boy said while demonstrating what his object of infatuation does with his own hair, not quite show ing it right.

Mickey chuckles and shakes his head, “y’know, telling her how you feel would be a great idea. Maybe, I don’t know at the park or something. Oor-9r, hear me out, just telling her would be nice.”

“Oh, dear Mickelous, that is simply just not possible. You see, you cannot simply fathom how much platonic-ivory oozes from her when we hang out together. Also, Y/an does not like the park because of children and the grass makes her itch; it would probably have to be during the night while under the stars.”

“Oh yeah, totally platonic when she looks at you like you actually hung the stars in front of her. Just like that show she likes with Azipy- Aziry-, nope, can’t say it.”

Arthur sighs, “Mickey, my bestest friend in the universe, she doesn’t like me and she never will, okay? Now come on, we’ll be late for wood shop and I’m looking forward to making a bird house that can stand this year.”

As they walked down the hall to their next class, Mickey sighed and started to formulate a plan and text Ema:

M: we need to come up with a plan for these two — sent at 10:45 a.m.

E:

Ik, I can’t take it anymore — sent at 10:46 a.m.

Meet me in the MILF room after lunch, well conspire there — sent at 10:48 a.m.

M:Ok, and btw, I hate that name — sent at 10:50 a.m.

Also y do u sound like an evil genius?? — sent at 10:50 a.m.

E:

Ikr, horrible name. And, idk, I just do sound like one ig — sent at 11:00 a.m.

Meet u after lunch — sent at 11:01 a.m.

After Lunch…

“Okay, now, that was a rough forty-five minutes to get through,” Mickey said this as him and Ema walked into the abandoned boiler room, a.k.a. The MILF Room, a.a.k.a. The Spindell Spot.

As the Winslow girl sat down on the couch she managed out, “yeah, that was unnecessarily hard. It’s like they want to look into our souls and have us tell them everything. Y/N really needs to stop looking like she’s about to run over a dog.”

“It’s seriously out of hand how much information they can try and gauge out of us. Spoon is the worst. He literally has that look on his face where he look-“

“Looks like he’s the most innocent and pure thing on the world? Yeah, I’ve seen that look. He’s literally the devil in disguise,” Ema then pulls out her laptop to take notes on how to get the two oblivious, love-sick, diabolic, little love birds, “so, you ready to do this?”

Mickey smiled and sat down next to his other best friend, “ready to finally get them to stop pining over each other and being self destructive? Hell yeah.”

And so, the two of the four best friends created a plan to get the other half together.

“…by the way, when do I have to get you and Rachel together,” the Bolitar boy than got smacked by a book by the alt girl and continued with their scheming.

To be continued…

A/N: I don’t know how I feel about this, but I want to make my little anon chalupa(and my readers proud) so I’m doing this. Please give me feedback on how I could improve the is one.

[keithbutgay]

17, 26 & 42?

17 -> someone you miss

26 -> biggest pet peeve

42 -> last thing i ate

someone i miss...

okay so this is weird but bear with me---

i had this friend, and we were really close from like preschool to fifth grade (we had hebrew school together, so we saw each other twice a week. we were both equal amounts of insufferable which i suppose is why we got along but anyways)

in sixth grade or so she moves pretty far away, so she didn't go to my school anymore but she wasn't far enough away that i couldn't visit her every so often

um

but then i came out as trans and her mom cut me off from her. and they moved across the country. and now i have no way of ever talking to her again. in fact, i tried to talk to her once, over a social media app that we both used that her mom had forgotten about but then i checked for her account one day and it was just. gone

anyways

this was such a long answer but

i hope she's doing well

and i guess if you're out there then. um. hi it's me

anyways i should probably like. move on lol

biggest pet peeve. you know i'm honestly not that sure. i mean idk if this counts it just makes me upset when i have something that i need and people will like. jokingly take if away from me? but i guess that's not as much of a pet peeve as just like. people sucking. so...

anyway i'm not actually sure what constitutes a pet peeve. when. idk. people touch me randomly and without asking? that's not great

anyways last thing i ate was a chicken skewer :)

[sophisticatedgia]

Black turtleneck, green tank top but not spaghetti strap. Dark blue, almost black leggings. Black sports socks. Dark green long scarf. Granny panties. Nike sports bra. Same ol sneakers.

Love you. Remember you are each sacred and so special.

Walking to gym. The sky is periwinkle. That used to be my favorite color and word. My best friend in fifth grade and sixth grade~named Courtney, loved navy and periwinkle. She died when we were 14 or 15. I couldn't believe it when I heard the news. So I called her home phone and her dad answered and I asked, "is Courtney there?" And he replied, "she's no longer with us." I was probably just 14. I lit a blue candle for her after that phone call.

💙🩵🕯️ R.i.p. Courtney 🕯️🩵💙

*********

Ok my hair is sweaty and I'm walking back to boyfriends after gym and grocery store. Got steel scrubbies for dishwashing, lemon ginger kombucha (no caffeine), two prime hydration drinks,(just downed mine real quick), more pepperoni pizza rolls for him and carrots for me! Because I have plant powered ranch sauce already to go with. I'm excited for more banana. But I only eat one or two today, Okie? Jeez Louise. I really go hard on those bananas. No, not anymore. I eat gently, mindfully, considerately. Not ferociously.

Walking walking bladda blah blah. I miss my parents and brother and dog and cats. I miss my cute family home. My mom is so girly and loves to decorate with horses and little critters all over the front yard, not to mention she gardens! I am astounded at our differences. I have gardened, but not well I daresay. I'm good at pulling weeds though! Thats all I can say about my gardening skills with the utmost confidence! My mom is a real life socialite of sorts. Me however, am very friendly online but quiet or goofy in person. My mom loves shopping. I used to abhor consumerism and think less of her for that. As I age I realize we can't help what world we are part of, we can only adapt and survive, sometimes miraculously thrive. But anyway I started becoming a shoppaholic this past September and this October. I remember enjoying the book "confessions of a shoppaholic" when I was younger. That's another boring mundane thing about me.

Perhaps I am more feminine than masculine. But truly it's all just a bunch of fluff. Unnecessary terms to describe sacred sentience. Is that how y'all feel? I find some discourse on tumblr so interesting. I believe I am an uneducated intellectual if one can be such a thing. But I am also very slow, earthy, and scared. Scarred. When I see other girls self injury scars I think to myself damn, did I do that to them? Me being the universe experiencing itself, as the model life inhabits and reflects. Interesting concept but just plain psychotic and I refuse to believe it in actuality. But thanks for listening tee hee . Almost to my bf now.

Remember, nature is always there for you. We are each flawed, and some of us broken, but we are all so lovable and have Jesus on our side. Please Jesus be on our side. A side of learning, love, humility, wholesomeness, and joy. Buhbye TTYL 🐾

[moonysfavoritetoast]

Im sorry if this comes out as offensive, but im like, really interested in your rants about school. What else happens? Anything happen to your friends either?

content warning ⚠️: mentions of school shootings, mention of shooting threats, mentions of rape and rape jokes, pedophile mentioned, calories mentioned, mentioned sh and ed’s, one mention of puking, slurs, murder threats, mention of groping. lmk if i missed anything.

lots of kids saying slurs (if it’s not obvious from my posts)

we’ve had. i wanna say three shooting threats this year in my district. two for the middle school and one for the high school. and i believe there was one at one of the elementary schools not sure tho.

uit’s the fifth week of school.

so many rape jokes. people hope other people get raped. people will say they want to rape people.

notably, a classmate said he wanted to rape my wife.

we have kids that are getting genuinely groped. nobody’s doing anything about it.

we have a pedophile gym teacher. who told us before thanksgiving break, when i was in SIXTH GRADE, that we should exercise after eating and make sure we didn’t eat too much.

i was eating 900 calories a day for six months because of him. he still works there.

there’s a kid who keeps saying he wants to stab people.

as far as i know, our administration said the shooting threats were all fake. the one that happened on a kid’s first day of school might’ve been rumors about him having the gun on him, but he was planning on bringing it. he got expelled after his first day. parents received emails saying it was all fake.

the principal said “well..if i hear anything else about rape im calling the police”. all four of us wrote statements on this kid joking about rape.

he got off without punishment because he’s not neurotypical.

the office will pick and choose if they’ll let you call a parent to go home. they told both my wife and khris that they weren’t allowed to call their parents because they didn’t want parents complaining about yesterday’s situation. which is fucking illegal.

principal also tried to text ace’s mom from ace’s phone(?) which is also illegal.

they hide the superintendent’s email because they don’t want parents contacting them if office staff don’t do anything.

when i was in fifth grade and sister was in third, her best friend gave her a note that was a murder threat.

it was from this girl’s brother who was in middle school. both of these girls tried to say it was for emily.

my sister and i were accused of wanting to or liking school shootings and gun violence.

my mom shut them down by saying we know someone who was shot at oxford.

i was being touched and stared at by emily’s brother who i was friends with (fifth grade, not middle school brother).

his fucking aunt was our principal. that’s why he never got in trouble.

the only teacher i’ve ever had say ANYTHING about the f slur was my hb/science/ss teacher in sixth grade.

nobody at my school cares what’s being said. nobody cares who gets threatened.

maybe it’s selfish of me, but i’m really fucking scared of going to school. i’m alternative. i’m queer. i feel like i’d be targeted. i feel like my friends would be targeted.

when teachers bring up sh and ed’s (we had an assembly about it last year), the only reason they say these habits develop are because of being bullied. sure. that’s part of it. but holy fucking shit.

they got rid of a counselor everyone loved bc she did her job TOO well.

there are kids at my school who fake sh. there are kids that fake ed’s.

we had an lgbt youth organization coming in once a week during lunch last year. nearly everyone going to the lunch group were kids that say fags should kill themselves.

we aren’t safe at school. i am not safe at school. my wife, ace, mee? im on the verge of fucking vomiting every day. because what if it happens when im not in a class with them. i don’t even have a class with my wife.

what if it happens and i can’t put myself in front of them?

the middle school office staff do not respond to emails. they aren’t doing anything about parents’ concerns. and parents can’t do anything. because nobody has access to the superintendent’s email.

more money goes into sports than keeping us safe.

[rosietrace]

『 A not-so-simple life 』

༝ㅤ･ㅤ˚ㅤ。ㅤ.ㅤ⋆ㅤ✧̣̩⋆̩◊⋆゜【❀】

「 ❏ Statement of Sumeragi Yuuta, regarding his life before coming to Twisted Wonderland 」

❏　〈 Statement recorded by Sumeragi Yuuta, prefect of Ramshackle 〉

❐　〈 Statement has been stored within the Night Raven College archives 〉

◊•°•═════ஓ๑【 ❀ 】๑ஓ═════•°•◊

『 Statement begins. 』

I really don't understand why I have to talk about it. If you ask me, Crowley shouldn't know anything about my life before coming here at all.

Unfortunately, let's just say he was rather…. Persistent, in wanting my statement. The statement of my life, that is.

I guess I should call it my ‘old life’.

…. I'll just get straight to the point. I wouldn't want to bore anyone who's listening to this statement, after all.

༝ㅤ･ㅤ˚ㅤ。ㅤ.ㅤ⋆ㅤ✧̣̩⋆̩◊⋆゜【❀】

For seven years of my life, I was living out on the streets. Homeless, malnourished, and really unclean.

Sure, I lived in a homeless shelter for a while, but things got complicated. And difficult. And I left once I turned four.

…. I'd rather not specify why.

I never knew my biological mother, or my father. No idea what happened to them, but… I'm scared to find out.

I'm not sure why.

But either way, I don't wanna make it too much of a hassle to explain. I was living out on the streets for the first seven years of my life.

I often had to rummage through the trash of fast food joints for food, and all the water I drank usually came from the lake in one of the local parks.

It wasn't an easy life. I honestly pity little me for having to go through all that for so long.

Eh. But what can you do, right? The past is the past, so…. Might as well make the future a little brighter.

And that's what I thought they'd give me. The Kenshō family. Old money.

Really traditional, and really rich.

They named me ‘Yuuta’. Or rather, I told them my first name was ‘Yuu’, and they simply added to it.

Not that my name would've changed the way they raised me.

I don't even know why they adopted me in the first place. If they were gonna adopt a child, they should've at least given that child some good old-fashioned acknowledgment!

Hah, then again, knowing them? They were way too focused on making a profit than taking care of the child they decided to adopt off the streets! Assholes, is what they are!

…. Forget them. Forget that life. Fuck them, and fuck their money.

I… If I'm gonna make a statement about my life, I might as well talk about something — someone — I actually care about.

I met a girl when I was in the fourth, maybe fifth, grade. We knew each other up until our second year of middle school. And after that? I never saw her again.

There was nothing between us. If anything, I like to think she saw me as a brother, rather than anything outside of that. I certainly saw her as a little sister.

It makes me feel even shittier, going back and remembering the way I treated her once we got into the sixth grade.

I don't even know what came over me. I just…. I just decided to treat my only friend like shit, just for the acknowledgment of people who never gave that much of a fuck about me.

And it sucks. It sucks to know that I tormented her up until the second year of middle school, and before I could even begin to apologize — she left.

Maybe it's for the better. Maybe she's happier now, now that she's far from me.

….. I miss her. And, I wish I got the chance to apologize to her.

◊•°•═════ஓ๑【 ❀ 】๑ஓ═════•°•◊

[possibly-god]

Hedy Mayer – the Rocket Scientist

(1975 – 27/2000 – 52)

Darleane Mayer met Dell Conagher in college studying theoretical physics – her second Ph.D., his sixth. For that one year they were study buddies, and for the one night of their graduation party they were something else.

The pregnancy was a surprise to Darleane, but not an unwelcome one – she had an interest in being a parent but not so much in being a wife, and with a bit of elbow grease she quickly proved herself unfireable from her new position at Black Mesa.

Baby Hedy was named after Darleane’s favorite inventor and actress Hedy Lamarr, and grew up in the halls of Black Mesa, learning the periodic table alongside the alphabet and designing space shuttles before she could drive a car.

While the sciences came easy to her, the humanities really didn’t – in the same school year she was TA-ing 10th grade trigonometry and repeating 6th grade English.

After high school, she spent a year interning at Black Mesa before her mom insisted that she get a degree – though what really convinced her to go was an ex-classmate’s insinuation that she couldn’t.

There is nothing this woman will not accomplish out of sheer spite – among her life’s greatest ambitions is to launch a teapot into stable orbit to get one over on her second-grade teacher.

Zephaniah Mann University took one look at her application and threw so many scholarships at her she’s practically being paid to attend – as of ‘75 she’s 7 years and 4 Ph.D.s deep (chemistry, astrophysics, aerospace engineering, and the college’s first computer science degree) with no signs of stopping.

It's at ZMU that she met Christoph, her best friend, husband for tax benefits, and partner in mad science.

It was Christoph who made Hedy the drunken bet that would change their lives – at his instigation, she invented the polycyclotron (a.k.a. the Tricycle, the Three-Ring-Circus) and became the first person to synthesize Australium.

It was this act that put her on OHM’s radar – and the rest of the kids, once OHM realized her connection to Team Fortress and began looking for others.

Discovering an adult child was not on Engineer’s bingo card when the team went on that rescue mission, and Hedy threw Dell for quite a few loops, but he did eventually get through to her over their mutual eccentricities (technical talents, music taste, mild god complex, etc.)

While on RED base, she becomes “chemistry buddies” with Demo and Pyro and develops a tenuous relationship with her father-in-law Medic (his skepticism is understandable - his marriage of convenience didn't go too well). She also encourages Kelly’s inventiveness, giving her construction tips.

Once everything with OHM is sorted out, Dell immediately calls Darleane for a long talk.

Meanwhile, Hedy returns to ZMU, presenting the Tricycle as her nuclear physics thesis. She accepts her fifth Ph.D. that June and her Nobel Prize the following December – her acceptance speech is the first in the institution’s history to include the phrase “kiss my ass.”

Hedy’s exit from ZMU heralds a hiring slap fight between NASA and Aperture Science – she picks the latter to start, though she’ll work at both and beyond in the coming years (after the fifth time she gets used as an unwitting test subject, she bids Aperture adieu).

The ’76 Conagher family reunion is one heck of an event – Hedy is quickly overwhelmed by her new grandpa’s, aunt’s, and cousins’ enthusiasm.

As Y2K passes uneventfully (with her help), Hedy accepts a position with Team Fortress Industries and joins her fellow “next-genners” in international mayhem as the Rocket Scientist (or “Rocketeer” for short and/or fun).

Next up - her psycho psychologist partner in life and crime...

TF2K Master Post

[purgemarchlockdown]

Hm...I've been thinking about the flyers in Purge March for a while ever since I asked for translation for them and Tsuwmya informed me of what they could figure out here.

I haven't really been able to figure out what they could mean but after writing about Magic's fiction so much I might actually have a thought on what it could mean.

Purge March also plays with the lines of fiction and reality A Lot, in both more obvious and subtle ways.

Like, at the end we see the Marching Band Amane but as archivalofsins pointed out here we know that only the day where Amane found the cat dead was actually rainy due to how it's lit and elements like Amane not having a umbrella on the first day.

You can see it here, the shot on the left is warmer than the one on the right. Purge March, like Magic before it, has very obvious showcases of fiction bleeding into reality while also hiding the other ways it plays with the boundaries between the two. This is the translation of the sentences that could be made out on the flyer in Purge March.

"◯◯ principle abide to the rules of ◯◯ make everyone happy!! together with your father and mother ◯◯ friends who break the promise"

But as Tsuwmya noted the kanjis/hiragana aren't consistent. (Copying and pasting cause I do not Know how to explain this)

母 (☒)、父 (☒)、原 (☑) kanjis are learnt on second grade 守 (☒)、幸 (☒)、決 (☒) are learnt on third grade 友 (☑) - second grade, 達 (☑) - fourth grade, 則 (☑) - fifth grade

It goes up to fifth grade and Amane is 12 so she should be sixth or going up to sixth by now, we don't really have Any dates for when she committed her murder so I can't really figure out if the school year started for her. Edit: She is literally in her school uniform- what I meant was if the New School year started or if she's still in Grade 5)

Tsuwmya also noted that a lot of the kanjis that they expect for Normal children to understand don't really make sense.

so why do they not use kanjis for "mother" and "father" if these are learnt at a very young age and are very common words for a child? why a child is supposed to read 原則 (general rule) but not お母さん (mother)?

Amane Momose however is noted to be Really Good at Japanese. Q1:

Q: Do you have any special skills? A: Nothing that I can call a talent. Perhaps studying. I do well in my Japanese class.

The text of the flyer has also been confusing me because of the Last Sentence.

-friends who break the promise"

This is so weird to me, why does it end at promise? What is the full sentence supposed to be about? I'd assume its about abandoning the friends who break these promises (Very We Know The Devil of it) but it's a really weird thing to put on a flyer. It's not something most people would look at and go "Wow I should go there!"

My point is, I'm pretty sure this flyer isn't the actual flyer but a the version of it in Amane's head. The inconsistency in the text being due to that.

[wasionlymadetocry]

The troubled teen industry isn't anything new. In fact, I think it's more well-known than it's ever been in the past. It seems like everyone I know has had their own experiences within it. Somehow their's seem worse than mine ever was. Does that make mine worth less? Or is that just another way of thinking that got me placed in psychiatric care in the first place?

The first time I was ever admitted to a mental health facility was when I was twelve. I was in sixth grade, and my birthday had only recently passed. When my family had come home from eating out that night, I found a razor. The type you use for construction. I remember staying up way later than I usually did, and I self-harmed for the first time.

I was scared. Scared of the blood, of consequences, of the relief it brought. I don't think I hid for very long before I broke down and told someone. My friends knew I was sad, but not depressed I don't think. I told our little group at the lunch table, and by the end of fifth period I was in the guidance counselor's office.

My counselor was kind, but the school officer legally required to be in the room was not. She acted like the whole ordeal was a waste of time. That it would have been easier to have called the cops and have me Baker Acted. My counselor wanted to call my parents. Have them pick me up, take me home, and have me voluntarily admitted. A supposedly far less traumatizing experience than the former. I suppose it was.

It was exceedingly difficult to get ahold of my parents that day, which just made the cop more and more irritated at me. My mother works from home and was in a meeting when I tried to call her. Even after being told it was an emergency, it was still more important that she finished her stupid work call. My father didn't answer the phone either. But he listened to my guidance counselor's voicemail and immediately called back. At least it seemed like one parent prioritized me over work.

All of my times in the system are so jumbled up I can't remember what details belong to which visit. I'm pretty sure for my first-ever visit I went almost right away. I was admitted to a psychiatric unit in a local hospital, and then I was trapped there for five days. Those visits never really help much. You spend more time in the emergency room going through the process of being admitted than talking to a therapist once you're on the unit.

All I ever did in that unit was sit around and wait for the doctor to say I was healthy enough to go home. It was a never-ending cycle of waking up, eating breakfast, doing fake school work, having lunch, going to our rooms for quiet hour, doing jack shit until dinner, having dinner, visitation hours, showering, then sleeping. And you do that every fucking day without change until you're not anywhere close to stable enough to go home but they don't want you any longer.

You sleep in a shitty bed, in a cold room, with no comfort other than the thought that maybe you're a little bit more sane than the kid in the bedroom across from yours. You have the endless discomfort of being on medications that fuck up your body, and that everyone will look at you like you're going to snap once you go back to your everyday life.

All of my friends decided they didn't want me to be around anymore. For the first time in my life, I had absolutely nobody. And it would remain that way for 10 more years. And my depression would only get more and more severe over that decade. There's so much more to it that takes so long to discuss, and takes even longer to put into eligible words.

maybe one day i will

[theressomethinghappeninginparis]

Okay so, a lot happened, I need to type faster and fill in my notepad quicker but I only have two hands. Short recap: weird Christian plant guy, I did some 6th grade chemistry on metals, and Luddick is an idiot. And I hope he'll never find this blog. Let me start with this: I am in Prague and found myself a room. I'm sorry not to be able to update as frequently, but there's so much stuff happening who can keep up with that...?

Transcript of the first and second page:

He's an ecert of Mueller's website. His newsletter is the funniest thing ever: "spread the work of the lord with science" and "how not to stay doomed" and "hello I made this website in the 1990s".

About the content, my notes are as follows:

He talks about his work being the one for the Lord and his "Master", which is, when you read further, a person we already know.

Talking about Eve and how she doomed the planet, he looks down on "mortals" and thus thinks he is immortal and claims these people dug their own graves.

He's fond of throwing people onto a stake it it gets him to his Christian world any closer. Apparently he's lost it.

There we are, the Golden Lion! That's Eckhardt, who has been around " a long, long time". He works with him to achieve at least immortality to break Eve's "spell".

Uhm yeah apparently cliamte crisis is his own work since he is just so, so good. He's batshit narcissist and I'm glad not to have met him.

Mueller is in Eckhardt work- and also fanclub and if everyone in there is just slightly like him, Lord have mercy on me. And Lara Croft. And perhaps Kurtis Trent if he's alive and after them, too.

Transcript of the third and fourth page:

The main thing here is that I re-read my notes again, on Eckhardt's Sanglyph, the metals he is harvesting, and the ones he had hidden in the paintings. Something was weird about the metals and I wasn't sure why. Then I read about cobalt, nickel, copper, zinc and gallium- the names of the metals today. They are close in the periodic table, and since the alchemist needs a lot of them in a purified form, they are hard to get by for a normal person. What I conclude is the following: he wants to use cheap copper to do alchemist chemistry and turn them into other elements, something we normal people can only do with bombing atomic cores. If he manages to do that his way to using the Sanglyph and becoming the Golden Lion is way easier.

Transcript of the fifth and sixth page:

So, my internet friend "PassionforResearchion" calls herself a scientist and has a passion for biology, plastic and medical surgery. She also loves genetic mutations, especially working with animals that can regenerate- I'll spare you the photos of her work. She seems to work well with Muller, though- she uploaded a picture of someone looking a bit like da Vinci's man, but in her notes she claimed this was "the Master". Who, if she means the same one as Muller, has to be Eckhardt. The figure looks like it has enhancements on its body and a chest plate with a glove(?) and something within its heart. Did she do this to him?

I'll annoy Luddick to talk to me again, and can maybe use my contacts. Or my fake ones. I need the dossiers if they're worth anything ang get a visiting pass to the Strahov, I think they're doing more than just research on Nephilim and plants.

Transcript of the seventh and eighth page:

I found Vasiley's art gallery, I found it through the mails of Carvier and von Croy. When asked about Vasiley, they wonderef how I couldn't have possibly heard of his death. After some talk they handed me a newspaper with an article that I took a photo of:

he died in his private rooms (house?)

the Russian mafia is supposed to be involved (not the Czech)

they were after the paintings

someone at the newspaper suggested the Montrum from Paris came here to murder him (he had ties to Werner and Cervier)

the Police keeps quiet.

I need to find his adress and check his place out.

Transcript of the ninth page:

Ha, you will never guess whom I saw outside my hotel window! Just now! This guy. Fucking Luddick himself with an old red car and papers on the roof. He left for a smoke, I assume...yeah I totally didn't steal them. I did not. But I took snaps of the dossier of whatever I found important and left for my hotel room. The luck is with the idiots, and I am one of them.

I'm examining the dossiers right now. I have five photos on people and want to gather information on them as much as I can. Stay tuned, for I will try to get into Vasiley's place if I'm able to. Another crime scene to check out, can't wait to have my background check at some point!

[danielisgoinginsane]

Hello and welcome again to my trash blog, today's episode is about how I might be asexual and aromantic- but not at the same time(???) And first a little story about myself.

So, when I was in primary school, I used to have a "crush", he was a guy and I'm gonna call him frog, why? Bc yes.

So, frog was like one of the most attractive guys in the school (at least it was for our little and not fully developed brains), we went to that school since second grade and were together until fifth grade (tha was when I changed schools).

Now, I do know that I thought he was attractive, I do know that I wanted to be close to him, the thing is that it never happened, like I told him multiple times that I liked him in that way, but never really did something about it, like I was fine being friends with him.

Now, there were other conventionally attractive kids, and I very often said "oh I like him now" and I was like jumping from crush to crush only to get back at frog again, I thought it was normal to like two people at the same time (it is if you're poly, I guess) I didn't thought of it as such a big deal, until I stumbled upon wattpad and those silly stories about a girl that likes two boys and she has to choose and it's such a drama...I didn't get it at all, I had this recurrent solution: just choose one, it's not that hard

But what little me didn't know it was that, well, it is hard for people to just choose between two people that they love.

Now for sixth grade, I liked this guy who I'm gonna call building, because he's tall.

So, building had this friend, and I "liked" them both, also, there were two girls who I also liked, the thing is thatone of the girls kissed me and I thought: maybe I don't like girls-

And I also never did anything about those people.

In middle school, well, I don't like anyone rn, and I feel I'll never will, but what do I wanna get with this? Well, I'm not attracted to people in a normal way, like I think I might experience love but not in a conventional way at all, maybe I need to get to know them? Maybe I just like the idea but not the compromise, maybe it's due to my autism, what I know is that I'm probably on the aromantic spectrum, where? Who knows! I just know that I'm there, and I would love that whoever is reading this can give me ideas of what might I be

[iamindifferenttolamp]

Jesus.

Okay hear me out:

When I was a kid, sometime in elementary school - I must've been at least 7 or 8 I think - I was in "vacation bible school" that was literally at some random neighbor's house.

That neighbor had a son who played the drums and I thought that was really cool.

Fifth grade was when we got to choose if we wanted to be in band class and if so which instrument to play. We only had four options though: flute, clarinet, trumpet, or trombone. We couldn't choose anything else - including percussion - until sixth grade. So I chose clarinet because it was the easiest of the four, fully intending to switch to percussion the next year.

Except I never actually voiced this plan and my parents bought a clarinet outright instead of renting it through the school the way most other kids did.

This was 2009, so the recession had just hit and money was on all adults' minds, even if my parents denied it, and therefore those worries seeped down to me (plus my parents' general frugality) and so I felt like it would be a terrible waste of money to switch from the clarinet I now owned to percussion and I stuck with it.

The middle school held a band summer camp every year. I don't think it was mandatory, maybe it was, but it was fun enough that I went regardless. I sat down randomly with the rest of the rising sixth grade clarinets, coming in from a few different elementary schools. The director had us all introduce ourselves and I happened to be sitting between two girls named Rach(a)el and so I made an offhand joke about it. (Since I wasn't playing the drums I clearly hadn't become cool.)

One of the Rach(a)els actually laughed at my joke and we became best friends. At this point in the story, I should mention that I basically never had any friends at school before this point. (Sorry Kellie, but also you spent several years at Catholic school.) So I really wanted to keep this one. So as middle school progresses, she shows me that she likes to write stories for fun. I, math-minded and loathing the lack of definite answers a writing prompt implies, found this to be a novel concept. But if Rachael liked writing, then it must be fun and I should try it too so that we have yet another shared interest (and she stays my friend).

This was also about the time that my parents got the internet at home, which meant writing didn't have to be the tedious process of scribbling in a notebook. It could instead be the tedious process of hunt-and-pecking on a keyboard - and, most importantly, posted publicly to bring fame and fortune or whatever.

And this is what led me to Protagonize, a now-defunct website that was built around a really cool choose-your-own-adventure-esque branching story concept (although you could create a standard linear story by just only adding one option to proceed) and that detail actually isn't relevant to the story at hand.

I hated writing, but the coolness of Protagonize drew me in and I used it (not a lot but I was there) for at least three years. In this time, I had perhaps my first encounter with fanfiction. Well, besides Rachael's Aquamarine fanfic in her notebook. I vaguely remember a fic about the Marvel villain Kingpin, but the other fic I remember running into (yes it was literally just two don't worry about it) was a self-insert Doctor Who fic. I think it was only the first page/chapter, too, but between the fun that the characters seemed to be having and the author's enthusiasm for the series, this "Doctor Who" thing stuck in my brain.

Move forward a couple years to high school. I'm still playing clarinet in band, I'm actually friends with Kellie now, and I have an ipod touch and a Facebook account. (And undiagnosed adhd.) And Facebook is filled with meme pages, where when you click on a shared meme, you can then scroll through all of the images that page has posted. (This is where the adhd comes in.)

Well two things keep coming up in my - what's a word for doomscrolling when it has nothing to do with the state of the world, it just makes you feel bad because you feel like you can't stop and know you should be doing something else because you don't know what adhd is yet? - perusal of these memes: 1. A gosh darn lot of them came from Tumblr, and 2. Doctor Who looked like a lot of fun (and David Tennant hot).

"But Lamp," you cry, "if you were seeing these things shared on Facebook, then this doesn't actually connect to Jesus! The whole story could start here instead!"

Aha! Good catch, reader - but there are two things I haven't told you yet. One is that Rachael moved away after seventh grade. I tried to keep in touch with her by email, but eventually she told me that she really only communicates by Facebook anymore. This is what led to me creating my secret-because-parents-said-I-couldn't Facebook account in the first place. And secondly, I mentioned that I still played clarinet in band. This is how I met my second ever best friend, who also played clarinet and who got into all of superwholock.

So as you see, reader, this still ties back to the clarinet which was chosen because it was easiest because the real goal was drums because Chip played the drums and when I met Chip at VBS he seemed so cool to three-years-younger me. It still all comes back to Jesus.

So I start watching Doctor Who. I'm all caught up by fall of 2013 and decide to take the plunge into Tumblr so I can be on the cutting edge of the memes and gifs and takes and analyses and fanarts and all that good fandom stuff for the 50th anniversary episode.

Well, Tumblr isn't just full of fandoms making memes. It's also full of gay people. And one of my classmates was both into similar fandoms and a hardcore feminist (shout-out to Lauren even though she's not on Tumblr anymore). So I suddenly found myself being confronted with a lot of ideas about gender and its place in the world, including in interpersonal relationships, in a space that was mostly fun and very easy to lurk in, coming from friends I respected and admired.

It may sound like a very 2014 tumblrina take but honestly a lot of my unlearning my conservative upbringing and realizing my own repressed queerness is thanks to Tumblr.

And in conclusion, if it weren't for Jesus I wouldn't be queer today.

"why are you lgbt wrong answers only " to be quite honest the girls always made me be the dog when we played house

[luminousvision]

Class

Rebecca was the perfect student. The one time she talked out of turn, without her hand up, everyone including the teacher was so surprised the entire second-grade class just skipped a beat and pretended it never happened. That was the closest it ever got—Rebecca was the only student to not have her card turned the whole year.

I could not stand this girl. I couldn’t beat her on tests, because she wouldn’t get anything wrong. I had just learned my first English a year before, so I didn’t put up much of a fight on spelling. Both of us got every math question correct, in class or on homework. But I had her on Reading Minutes, where I’d read five hours every weekend to her three. When we tallied our Reading Minutes at the end of the month, I’d make a point of looking at her across the classroom. She’d make a sour face and pretend she didn’t see me. 

I couldn’t behave better than her because she never talked. I was pretty sure I ran faster than she did, but I wasn’t fully sure because she spent recess playing jumprope and hopscotch instead. I didn’t play gross girl games.

I didn’t get a rematch until fifth grade. But that year, Rebecca didn’t say a single thing she didn’t have to, not to me. She spent all of her time trading whispers with her best friend with long shiny black hair and a cute nose. Once, when I managed an excuse to talk to her, the girl offered the unsolicited aside that Rebecca said I rambled a lot. I nodded blankly and went straight to the dictionary. The two girls watched me and giggled.

The next year, we ran a class play, a coming-of-age story about high school homecoming, set in the 60s so even the parents had to be explained the references. Rebecca auditioned for the part of an infatuated teenage boy who spent most of his stage time chasing a girl. And it turned out, Rebecca was basically ready for Broadway. I’d seen enough class plays to know. How the hell does a sixth grader know anything about love at all, let alone love from the perspective of the other gender? This bookish, quiet, nerdy girl wasn’t squeamish about any of it, not about romance, kissing, or playing a boy’s part. On performance night, she got the one standing ovation.

Soon it was June and our year-long assignment to read a million words came due. Rebecca and I led the class by a large margin. I read four million. Rebecca read seven. It’s fine. I didn’t always beat her. I kept looking over at her desk, expecting her eyes to meet mine, even for a second, just to shake hands after the game. But she never looked at me. With her brilliant green eyes and pale, soft cheeks, I was getting the feeling I’d never catch her anyway.

It was hard to believe she was normal. She had friends, tangled with everyone else in gym, and ate the same shitty cafeteria food. So even when I got the only perfect score on the algebra final, I couldn’t smile. What did it matter to beat her by three points? Rebecca turned in pristine work, knew the answer to every question, didn’t blush when our science teacher gave us the baby talk, handled her four letter words, held her own in every blacktop sport, and always kept her wavy brown hair neatly brushed. The rest of us picked our noses and slung mom jokes at each other.

Every Monday in P.E., we’d run a mile, a big lap around the school. I always ran my heart out. Still, every Monday, the same two kids would grow smaller and smaller until they’d disappear around the baseball diamond. They were already laughing in the locker rooms by the time I got to the finish line.

One fall day after school, Rebecca and I were sitting on opposite sides of a long metal bench out front waiting for our parents to pick us up. Everyone else had already gone home and we could hear only the wind scrape dry leaves across the concrete. I pointed at the announcement board on the yellowing grass in front of us. They’re running another school dance. Do you go to them, I asked. No, she said, she hadn’t thought about them much. We left a long pause. Well, it’s next week, I said. Want to try it? Rebecca started but froze mid-way, her mouth slightly ajar. She stared at me, eyebrows furrowed, until her mother called through an open car window. The girl picked up her backpack and left without a word.

That year, Rebecca was diagnosed with scoliosis, or had stomach issues, or otherwise couldn’t come to class. I saw her after school every now and then, exchanging giant stacks of papers with each teacher. Her desk in every class remained empty. Then we stopped seeing her. They said she was being home schooled. Good riddance.

My friends in high school had heavy glasses, thick accents, or some shocking prudishness. If they could sing, they couldn’t take a derivative. If they could take a derivative, they couldn’t shoot a basketball. If they could shoot a basketball, they weren’t pretty. And if they were pretty, they couldn’t do anything at all besides check their phones and giggle in packs down the hallway.

I started imagining things, unrealistic things, like girls with self-confidence. Every spark was a hint of genius until disproven by a stray comment a week later. Surely, somewhere around here, someone not being home-schooled would beat me up, head over heels. Okay, in college, there were a few who tickled my imagination. They never said anything they hadn’t thought about for a long time. They made me think.

They made me think for a long time on a grassy field in the middle of campus, surrounded by dozens of kids with superior grades, some reading books and others throwing frisbees. My eye caught on one perfect, puffy cloud with ripples that reminded me of someone’s hair I could not forget. And in that instant, I found myself right back at the beginning, playing the memories through one more time.

[unicornofthemidwest]

Prompt Fulfilled: 1

He was still so much taller than me. I was lighter on my feet. All those years of tap had paid off. I twirled under his arm and tried to smile. This was a nice place, and a nice wedding, and I didn’t want to ruin everything again.

As we started a promenade down the hall, I tipped my head back and smiled at him. He smiled back absently, the same way he’d looked at me since seventh grade. Even while dancing at my brother’s wedding, I desperately wanted to check my phone. I sighed as he twirled me again. “This is it, isn’t it?” The lights overhead seemed to shimmer more brightly, scattering over me like diamonds. I felt, for a moment, as though I were in a movie. “It’s over.”

Milo set me upright, and even from my considerably lower vantage point, I could see his face was troubled. “What?” he said.

I’d barely realized that I’d spoken aloud, and I found myself staring at Milo with a buzzing in my ears. His eyes looked transparent under the disco ball that Annalise had rented. I stepped back, wondering if I could pull the words back inside. This was not something I told Milo about. 

Milo and I met sometime before I could remember. There’s a picture of us both propped up on the couch, with oversized aviators on. Milo’s probably six months, which means I’m three months. Our moms are probably behind the camera, laughing.

For every important moment in my life, Milo was there, sometimes centerstage, sometimes just offstage. My fifth birthday, when I lost my first tooth biting into a carrot. (He was sitting next to me when it happened.) The first day of school, wearing marching overalls. (There’s a picture of us in matching outfits our moms made us wear every year until we rebelled in sixth grade.) Eighth grade graduation, when I kissed Laurel Jimenez for the first time, huddled behind the bleachers like we were being hunted. (I never told him about that.) The ninth grade dance when the boys got into a world of trouble for smoking a minuscule amount of weed in the bathroom. (I was the one who reported them. Milo was the one who almost got expelled.) 

Tenth grade and half of eleventh grade, when COVID shut almost everything down, his family was part of our pod. Last year, when my oldest brother Ren brought Annalise home for the first time, despite having dated her for almost five years, Milo and Lisa, his mom, were there, too. Practically family. When Ren and Annalise visited six months ago to tell us they were getting married, he was there, too. 

And of course, two months ago, we walked across the shaky stage in the high school gym, shooting secret grins at each other, shocked to find we’d both graduated. That day was Technicolor in my mind, shining so brightly that I could barely look at it. It was all sight and color and texture, so much that I could almost taste it.

Two months after graduation, in the drafty plywood and concrete hall that served as the wedding reception venue, because Ren and Annalise are feral people who insisted on getting married at a summer camp, Milo was still staring down at me. The ceilidh whirled on in the middle of the floor. Annalise caught my eye. She nodded her head, inviting us back in. I shrugged apologetically as the dance swept her away. 

“Valerie,” Milo said. “What’s over?”

I looked up at him, trying to figure out how to explain it to him. It was sometime in fourth grade that I realized I was a lot sadder than Milo. That he was someone destined to play sports and make new friends, just like he did every day, even when we were that young. Whereas I was someone destined to…not do that. I didn’t seem destined for much at all. I had no idea what was coming for me after graduation. I kept trying to text Laurel Jimenez and chickened out every time. 

“This—” I waved a hand vaguely at him, me, and all the space between. “All of this. It’s over.” He said nothing, and I felt a desperate push to fill up the silence with anything I could say. “It’s okay. It’s okay! This is what was always going to happen. I think we always knew it was going to end like this.” I took stock of Milo, who was looking at me like I’d claimed that the moon landing was fake. “I think.”

“What?” he said again.

I huffed out a sigh, feeling my face burn. I’d assumed we were on the same page about this, but maybe we hadn’t been on the same page since fourth grade. “Us. This is it.” 

He was still staring at me, mouth slightly agape. Long, fine eyebrows drawn together. “Valerie, what are you talking about?” I didn’t answer. My chest and face were burning, and I wished desperately to be somewhere else. This was why I couldn’t make friends. “Is this about Yale?”

I rolled my eyes so hard that I could’ve sworn I felt some nerve in my head pop. “I wasn’t going to get into Yale, Milo.” The Yale thing was annoying, but it wasn’t what was really bothering me. I’d always known that it was a long shot, but Ms. Fernando and my mom and Annalise and Lisa had all been so excited by the thought. I only applied because they wanted me too, and I was always skeptical of my chances. Maybe if I really didn’t care, I wouldn’t be this defensive. 

“So what’s wrong?” Milo asked.

I almost told him about graduation day, when Laurel Jimenez squeezed my hand and told me she’d committed to University of Michigan. “Do you want to take pictures?” she asked right after, as if she hadn’t just imploded my whole world. And I only nodded, letting her pull me over to the high school entrance, waving her parents over to take pictures. 

The hall was hot with everyone dancing. I sat down and disconsolately pulled a bowl of chips toward me. “We’re going to different colleges.” Milo would go to MIT for engineering in the fall, though I was skeptical of his longevity. I hadn’t gotten into Yale, and I hadn’t gotten into University of Michigan, so I was going to Thomas Aquinas, where at least I would be warm. “It’s not going to be the same.”

Milo picked at a wood knot in the table. His frame was like a pipe cleaner, folded over on itself. As long as I could remember—perhaps forever—Milo had been taller than me, and now he was taller than most people. He wore it well. He still played sports and made friends. “Yeah, of course it’ll be different,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean that anything’s over.”

I sighed and leaned my chin on my hand. I didn’t know how to explain to him that I knew that proximity was the only thing holding us together. I understood that childhood friends were well and good, but we’d never talk again. We’d never go to KFC at three in the morning again. We’d never make cookies with our moms again.

Laurel hadn’t texted me since graduation.

“It’ll be different,” I echoed. I stared at the wall opposite me, trying to figure out how I felt about it. I was a little scared and a little excited about college, but mostly, I was very, very numb. The world had seemed a little bleached since graduation. I’d worked hard to get through school. It had been undeniably exciting: All that work, all the new things, since the first day of school with Milo and me in matching outfits. I didn’t have friends besides Milo till middle school, and even then, no one I would call my best friend. Until Laurel. Who hadn’t texted me since graduation. I’d worked hard to get through school, and now it was over, dissipated in one Technicolor afternoon. 

I’d been lonely in elementary school, which was the one thing I had on Milo. I knew what being sad was about, and I knew that it was coming back. It was coming for both of us. 

“It’ll be different,” he said again, definitively. “But I’ll still know you.” He stood up, holding a hand out to me. “Wanna dance?”

I stared at his hand, and decided to put off the sad for another day. I decided that I knew Milo now. The hall was hot and drafty at the same time, and I wished that Laurel would text me. I didn’t know what I’d do in college, and I expected that I was going to be lonely and sad for a while. 

But right now I was at a wedding, and Milo was offering to dance with me, so I stood up and took his hand, and we spun back onto the dance floor.

[zzzzeloisa]

MY AUTOBIOGRAPHY >_<

Hello! I am Ma. You can call me Francine Eloisa L. Evangelista, but most of my close friends refer to me as "Hopya"^_^. People that I don't know well or with whom I don't feel at ease calling me "Hopya" bother me. The same is true for Eloisa; I only like it when one person calls me that. On May 17, 2005, in Pag-asa, Imus City, Cavite, I was born. Last May 17, I turned 18!

My parents and I didn't actually grow up together. Since then, it has just been me and my Kuya. Together with our cousins, our grandparents essentially raised the two of us. Of the eight cousins, I am the fifth. Before my younger cousins arrived, I spent a long time being the youngest.

Being the youngest girl relative for a considerable amount of time makes growing up with cousins difficult. My elder cousins, who are all boys, constantly tease or fight me. The advantage of being the youngest cousin, though, is that when my peers mistreat me, I always take it out on my grandparents, particularly my grandfather.

My brother and I had a close bond when we were kids. As we grew older and our relationship changed, we frequently disagreed. My kuya and I are currently attempting to repair our relationship because our parents are no longer married and we now reside with our mother. I'm happy that my brother and I are trying to repair our connection, but I'm not used to talking to him without yelling at him.

I've always wanted to be a doctor ever since I was a little kid. I want to be a doctor because I like my aunt, a qualified medical expert, who I look up to. I recall witnessing her spend restless hours studying for forthcoming exams even when she was an intern and still in medical school. Because of this, even if being a doctor is a difficult route, I'm even more inspired to follow in her footsteps and accomplish the same. Thanks to her, I realized that I could succeed. If we want to be successful on the path we've chosen, we must be persistent and patient with the process. Regardless of how difficult something may be, we must still try it in order to succeed

Numerous experiences and changes are a part of growing up, not just for the physical body but also for the mind and emotions. Since I was attracted to both guys and females in the sixth grade while I was in elementary school, I was unsure of who I was. I was lost up to the seventh grade. I didn't know I was bisexual until I was in eighth school, but I had assumed it was normal to have crushes on girls.

Only me, my ate, and two of my kuya relatives are bisexual. If I'm honest with my parents about it, I'm afraid of what they'll say. In a few months or years, I might be ready to tell them the truth about who I am.

It was challenging to figure out who I was during those years. I'm fortunate to have individuals who respect and approve of who I am. especially my two closest friends, who I can reach with a phone call. They are never far away by phone, so I can always invite them out to eat or hang out so we can talk and make fun of our life choices. From the seventh grade until now, when we are in the 12th grade and preparing for college, we have been each other's best friends, so I have always considered of them as my second family or my core group of friends.

[ollieofthebeholder]

Elementary/middle school, 1998-2003. Tiny private school, strict dress code. On Mondays if you were in 5th-8th grade, and on special occasions for everyone, you had to wear extra special dress code, and it was very strictly gendered: boys wore ties, slacks, and button-down shirts, girls had to wear skirts or dresses, no exceptions. There was no nonbinary/gender neutral option. I don't think any of us even knew that was a thing.

Enter Margo. Margo's hair was cut in a bowl cut above her ears and until we were in eighth grade I literally never saw it any longer than that. Margo lived in polo shirts, cargo pants, and a Yankees baseball cap. Margo played basketball and touch football on the playground with the boys while the girls played four-square and jumped rope and swung on the swings. Margo had one (1) dress, a dark blue ribbed sweater dress with a turtleneck collar, that she trotted out annually for the Thanksgiving/Grandparent's Day service and hated every minute of it. Margo fought the administration for the right to wear pants on formal occasions when we hit fifth grade (successfully) and fought for the right to play baseball instead of softball when those sports were strictly segregated by gender (unsuccessfully, and so played tennis instead).

Margo made a comment, when we were in sixth grade or so and learning verb conjugations - I am, you are, he/she/it is - that "[Classmate #1] is a he. [Classmate #2] is a she. I am an it."

I had maybe a split second's thought of Wait, that's an option?! before all the other kids started laughing and repeating it, until our science teacher made them stop.

Side note: Margo grew out her hair in eighth grade and was planning to attend an all-girls boarding school for high school. I mentioned this to my mom, and she looked surprised for a minute, then thought it over and mumbled, "Yeah, eighth grade is when [best friend] made me join Girl Scouts..." I'd heard stories about this friend - her best friend from high school, the one she moved in with when she first moved out of her parents' house, the one she got drunk with for the first time, the one she was in JROTC with, the one whose stepmother had had breast cancer, the one I'd never met because they hadn't spoken since the early 1980s - but I didn't understand why that was relevant.

Then Mom dropped on me that her best friend had come out as transgender, that his name was Kevin, and that that was why they hadn't spoken in so long - because he'd felt that the only way he could fully transition and become male was to cut out everyone who'd ever known him as his deadname. Including my mom, about whom he'd once said that if he'd been fully out in high school, they probably would have dated - and my mom agreed with that. To this day, I think my mom is one of like two people from their school who actually knows that about him.

So yeah. We always existed. We just didn't say anything because a) it wasn't safe and b) we weren't given the vocabulary for it.

I graduated high school in 99.

There was a student at our school named Wayne.

Wayne was gay. It was obvious. He was unable to stay in the closet even if he wanted to. To make matters worse, he was also Black. From a bullying standpoint, that was not a great combo. Both Black and white students made fun of him relentlessly. He was ostracized from the only community that may have given him protection. Only us theater kids stuck up for him, but not to significant effect.

Wayne was bullied so much that at one point he finally snapped and attacked his bullies with a lunch tray. I was actually seated in perfect line of sight and just sat there chewing my soggy fries in stunned silence. It didn't even seem real as I was witnessing it. The image of him wailing on his main bully as the food on his tray flew off is permanently logged into my long term memory.

The bully he attacked had blood all over his face and went straight to the nurse. Other than superficial cuts, he was not injured.

Before the attack, Wayne went to teachers for help. He went to guidance counselors for help. He went to the principals for help.

He did all of the things you were supposed to do. No one helped him. They wagged a finger at the bullies and warned them to stop.

Wayne's lunch tray melee was the only thing that worked. His bullies stayed far away from him. But a week later Wayne was expelled and the bullies were given no punishment.

So... no.

No one in my school talked about being trans.

Because the only way to survive being openly queer was to bash people with a lunch tray.