[Part 1 - School Life]

Autumn arrives with a gentle whisper, painting the world in warm hues of amber and gold. The leaves crunch beneath my feet, forming a melodic symphony of nature's transition from summer's warmth to winter's embrace.

My footsteps echo softly against the concrete pavement. This rhythmic cadence mirrors the beating of my heart, softly overshadowed by the laughter and chatter of students that supply the lively air.

As I make my way through the school grounds, I take in the sight of the school building, a sprawling structure of modern design nestled amidst the vibrant foliage. Its sleek lines and glass façade reflect the changing colours of the autumn landscape, blending seamlessly with the natural beauty surrounding it.

From the cherry blossom trees that bloom in the spring to the serene courtyard where students gather during lunch breaks, every corner of the school holds a story waiting to be told.

As I step through the threshold, the familiar scent of polished wood envelops me;

the walls are adorned with colourful posters and artwork. Bulletin boards display announcements for upcoming events and extracurricular activities, inviting students to participate and engage with the school community.

I stroll down the hallway, its expanse stretching endlessly, adorned with a gallery of knowledge and exploration, each painting a window into the vast world of learning.

As I navigate through the sea of faces, I can't shake the feeling of eyes boring into my back, a silent judgment that hangs in the air like a heavy cloud.

With a sigh, I quicken my pace, hoping to escape the suffocating weight of their stares. But before I can take another step, my foot catches on something—a sneaker, perhaps, or a stray backpack—sending me stumbling forward with a startled cry.

I crash to the ground with a sickening thud, the impact jarring every bone in my body. Pain flares to life in my knees and palms as I sprawl amidst a chorus of laughter, the mocking sound echoing in my ears like a taunt.

My cheeks burn with humiliation as I push myself up, trying to ignore the smirks and snickers that follow me like a shadow.

Ignoring the burning ache in my knees, I brush off any dust lying there as best I can, trying to salvage what little dignity I have left. But the whispers and jeers continue, a relentless assault on my already fragile confidence.

"Look at him; can't even walk straight."

"What a loser."

I clench my fists, willing myself to block out their cruel words. But try as I might, the pain of their mockery cuts deep, leaving behind wounds that refuse to heal.

As I trudge through the crowded hallway towards my homeroom, the weight of my own thoughts threatens to crush me beneath their suffocating embrace.

Memories of past humiliations flood my mind, each one a jagged shard of pain that pierces my consciousness with searing clarity. The taunts and jeers of my classmates echo in my ears like a relentless drumbeat, a constant reminder of my status as an outcast.

I've lost count of the countless times I've been bullied and ostracised, each incident etched into my memory like a scar on my soul.

It's as if I wear my pain like a badge of honour, a testament to the cruelty of those around me.

Despite my best efforts to blend into the background, I always feel like a target, a punching bag for the pent-up aggression of my classmates.

Each day is a struggle to maintain my composure, to keep the tears at bay, and to keep the facade of indifference firmly in place. I plaster a fake smile on my face and pretend like their words don't hurt, but inside, I'm crumbling, piece by fragile piece.

I long to lash out, to scream, and to rage against the injustice of it all, but I know it would only make things worse. So instead, I bury my pain deep inside, locking it away behind walls of stoicism and indifference.

But even as I try to steel myself against the onslaught of cruelty, I can feel cracks beginning to form in my facade. Each insult, each taunt, chips away at my resolve until I'm left feeling raw and exposed, like an open wound amid a storm.

Thoughts of home invade my mind, adding another layer of pressure to my already heavy load. The constant pressure from my family to excel academically, to live up to their expectations, and to fulfil their ambitions for me, weighs heavily on my mind.

I remember the countless times I've been compared to my more successful siblings—the verbal abuse from my parents that cuts deeper than any physical wound.

Despite the darkness that threatens to consume me, I cling to the faint glimmer of hope that someday, somehow, things will get better.

⁂

I walk into the homeroom, and the usual mixture of dread and anticipation washes over me. The air feels heavy, almost suffocating, with the weight of my classmates' stares bearing down on me.

Taking my usual seat in the middle of the room, I try to ignore the tangible tension in the air, but it's impossible to shake off the feeling of unease.

"Hey, look who decided to show up today."

Whispers a voice from behind me, followed by a chorus of snickers.

Ignoring the taunts, I sink into my chair, hoping to disappear into the background.

But the memory of the humiliation I endured earlier still lingers, a dark cloud hovering over my head, threatening to engulf me in its suffocating embrace.

"Did you guys see how he tripped earlier? What a loser."

I clench my fists, fighting the urge to lash out in anger.

Instead, I focus on my breathing, trying to block out the noise around me.

"Hey, leave him alone."

I look behind me to see Asano Nori, one of the few classmates who has always been kind to me, glaring at the group with a steely determination in her eyes.

"Mind your own business, Asano. We're just having a bit of fun."

"Well, it's not funny. You guys should be ashamed of yourselves."

The room falls silent, the tension thickening with each passing moment. I watch in disbelief as Asano stands up to the bullies, her courage inspiring me to find my own voice.

"Thanks..." I say softly and hesitantly, meeting her gaze.

She smiles warmly, a small gesture that fills me with a sense of comfort amidst the chaos.

For the first time in a long while, I don't feel completely alone.

The bell rings, signalling the start of class, and I turn my attention to the front of the room.

As Kobayashi-sensei, our teacher, begins the lesson, I try to focus on the material, but my mind keeps drifting back to the events of the morning.

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

"Hey, are you okay?" Asano whispers, leaning over to me with a look of concern.

I nod, forcing a smile despite the turmoil brewing inside me.

"Yeah, I'll be fine... I hope..."

As I sit in class, I can feel the minutes ticking by slowly. Despite my best efforts to focus on Kobayashi-sensei's lecture, my mind keeps wandering back to the unanswered questions that have been weighing on me.

The silence in the room is tangible, amplifying the sound of every tick of the clock. I feel myself getting more and more anxious with each passing moment, desperate for a solution to the problems that plague me—

"My, my, I wonder what naughty thoughts are festering through that atrocious mind of yours~"

Before I realise it, Kobayashi-sensei is over my desk, gracefully bending at the waist as she extends her arm. With her elbow resting on the desk surface, she leans in closer, her hand coming up to cup her cheek in a desirable gesture.

Her gaze locks onto mine with relentless intensity, signalling her focused attention. Despite the friendly smile gracing her lips, there's an underlying hint of danger that sends shivers down my spine, instantly snapping me out of my daydream.

"You know..." She starts, her voice laced with ice. "... You shouldn't be ogling at me."

What? What is she talking about?

"I'm well aware that my breasts are large; thank you very much. But let's get one thing straight: I will not entertain the audacity of anyone having the nerve to ogle it."

Oh.

Caught off guard, I blink rapidly, trying to process Kobayashi-sensei's unexpected accusation. My cheeks flush with embarrassment as I stammer out a clumsy apology.

"I-I'm sorry, sensei! I-I wasn't... I mean, I didn't mean to..."

I trail off, mortified by the realisation that I had inadvertently been staring at her chest.

With my cheeks still burning from embarrassment, I quickly avert my gaze, feeling like a complete idiot. Kobayashi-sensei's stern look doesn't waver, and I can practically feel the judgement from the other students around me.

"I-I really didn't mean to."

I mumble, my words barely audible over the classroom sneering.

Kobayashi-sensei sighs, her expression softening slightly.

Great, now I'm going to be known as the guy who checked out their teacher...

"I believe you, but please try to pay attention in class. It's important to focus on your studies, not on... other things."

I nod vigorously, eager to put this awkward encounter behind me.

But as Kobayashi-sensei returns to the front of the class, I can't help but feel the weight of her gaze lingering on me.

With my cheeks still on fire, I try to shrink into my seat, hoping to disappear from everyone's sight. But no such luck. The whispers and stares follow me like a dark cloud hanging over my head.

As Kobayashi-sensei returns to the front of the class, I can't shake off the lingering discomfort from our encounter. The weight of her gaze feels like a spotlight, magnifying my embarrassment and leaving me feeling exposed.

After an hour of not paying attention at all, the lunch bell finally rings, signalling the end of homeroom, at least for now.

While most students eagerly leave the room—including Asano, sadly—I remain seated, bracing myself for what I know is coming next.

Sure enough, as the room empties, a few of my tormentors linger behind.

With a sinking feeling, I realise that I won't be escaping their torment today.

They encircle me like vultures closing in on their prey, their mocking laughter echoing off the walls of the empty classroom.

I steel myself against the onslaught, my jaw clenched and my fists balled at my sides. It's a routine I've grown all too accustomed to, but that doesn't make it any easier to endure.

"Look who decided to stick around."

One of them sneers, his voice dripping with malice.

"Thought you'd be smart enough to know better by now."

I clench my jaw, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a response.

But before I can even react, they descend upon me like a pack of wolves, their fists raining down upon me with merciless fury. Pain explodes across my body, and each blow is a harsh reminder of my powerlessness.

I could feel tears escaping my eyes; I grit my teeth against the pain, my mind consumed by a single thought: survival.

Eventually, the onslaught ceases, leaving me battered and bruised but unbroken. They saunter away, their laughter fading into the distance as they leave me alone in the empty classroom.

I take a moment to collect myself, my shoulders slumping with the weight of my burdens. It wasn't just the physical pain that weighed me down, but the emotional toll of their relentless torment.

I'm just a punching bag for their amusement, a target for their cruelty. And no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to escape it.

But dwelling on my misfortune wouldn't change anything. With a heavy sigh, I push aside my thoughts and focus on the task at hand. Despite being delayed by the torment, I knew I couldn't afford to linger any longer.

Time was ticking away, and I feel a sense of urgency gnawing at the pit of my stomach as I make my way to the lunch hall. The next lesson awaits, and I have little time to spare.

Scanning the array of options with a sense of resignation, I settle for a meager meal of rice balls and pickled vegetables, the same uninspiring fare I have grown accustomed to over the years. As I collect my food and hastily wrap it in a plastic bag, a familiar sense of unease settles over me.

In a place where survival of the fittest is the unspoken law, I know all too well the risk of my meal being stolen before I have the chance to eat it. It's a constant battle, one that leaves me feeling perpetually on edge.

Just as I settle into my seat and begin to unwrap my meal, I thought I heard Asano's voice calling my name. My heart skips a beat at the possibility of finally having someone to share lunch with, but as I glance around the crowded hall, I realize that it was just my imagination playing tricks on me once again. Disappointment washes over me like a wave, leaving me feeling even more isolated than before.

Turning my attention back to my meal—or what's left of it, I can't help but feel a bit disappointed.

My lunch had been stolen. Again.

Sighing heavily, I push my now-empty plastic bag aside and resign myself to yet another day of going hungry. It's not like I haven't been in this situation before—far from it.

⁂

I hurry towards my next homeroom lesson, my footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. I can't shake the sinking feeling in my gut.

Arriving late to homeroom, I slump into my seat with a heavy heart.

"Late again, huh?"

Asano shoots me a pointed look as I take my seat beside her.

"Yeah, sorry..."

I mutter, not meeting her gaze. It's a familiar routine—arriving late to class, making excuses, enduring the judgmental stares of my peers. I've grown accustomed to it over the years, but that doesn't make it any easier to bear.

Asano sighs, her expression softening slightly.

"You need to start getting here on time, you know. Kobayashi-sensei doesn't like it when students are late."

"I know, I know..."

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. The last thing I need is another lecture from Kobayashi-sensei about punctuality.

As the homeroom teacher begins to take attendance, I can feel the weight of her gaze upon me, silently admonishing my tardiness. I lower my head, avoiding her eyes as best as I can, hoping to escape her notice.

But it's no use. Kobayashi-sensei's voice cuts through the silence like a knife, her tone tinged with disappointment as she addresses me directly.

"Late again, Sora-kun? You know better than this."

"I-I'm sorry, sensei..."

I mumble, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. The last thing I want is to attract more attention to myself, but it seems like I can't escape it no matter how hard I try.

Kobayashi-sensei's expression softens slightly, her stern facade melting away to reveal a hint of concern.

"Just try to be more mindful of the time in the future, okay? It's important to develop good habits."

I nod, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over me. Despite her strict demeanour, Kobayashi-sensei has always shown a surprising amount of kindness towards me, something that I've come to rely on in times of trouble.

As the lesson begins, I do my best to focus on the material at hand, but my mind keeps drifting back to the events of the morning. The stolen lunch, the accusatory glances, the relentless whispers—it's all too much to bear.

"Hey, Sora-kun..." Asano's voice interrupts my thoughts, pulling me back to reality.

"Yeah?" I reply, tearing my gaze away from the window to meet her eyes.

"You okay? You seem kinda... out of it today."

I force a weak smile, hoping to reassure her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."

Asano studies me for a moment, her eyes searching mine for any sign of deception. Finally, she nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer.

"Okay, just making sure. You know, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you."

I nod, grateful for her offer of support. "Thanks, Asano. I appreciate it."