Chapter Text
Hand cream... Perfume... A bundle of unsharpened pencils... A sketchbook... His lyric book... His school computer...
Is that it?
Yoshi lightly furrowed his brows, digging further into his satchel in bewilderment. Then he groaned miserably. Of course, he forgot his schedule on his first day. Unlike his old school, their schedule was printed onto paper-- which he found quite stupid, as their work was all digital. He wanted to slap himself for forgetting something so important even after triple checking his bag that very morning and night before but resorted to chewing on his lower lip in frustration. No use in getting angry. He needed to focus on his next move.
He glances around in the empty hallways, smelling a nauseating wave of bleach wafting from the other side of the hall. At least they clean around here, he tried to reason with himself although he didn't feel any less nauseous.
Nobody was around to help, although he doubted they would notice him. He was pretty small and scrawny for his grade. They probably would think he was a freshman and not a junior, then proceed to ask what he's doing in the upperclassmen side of the school. Which, by the way, is something he hopes he never has to explain ever again.
He pointedly decides to walk around instead of pathetically glancing about for someone to help him. He could, he realizes, go up to the front desk and ask for his schedule, but the subtle expressions on the lady's face had detoured him from ever speaking to her again. He makes his way down the hall, bypassing the freshly sprayed floors and going in the adjacent direction.
He starts to feel a slight sense of anxiety due to his disoriented start, so he distracts himself by admiring the wall art hung against the space above each locker. Each piece was unique in its own way, the personality of each artist almost coming to life through each portrait and sculpture. Yoshi smiles, glad his parents agreed to send him to art school despite his mother's clear bias towards schools more focused on high academics. Even through the intense peer pressure, he had somehow convinced his parents to let him enroll in the prestigious boarding school he now attends, Treasure Box High. His passion in life was most definitely music and he's glad he finally made a decision about his own life and education.
He continues to walk aimlessly, the ominous ticking of the clocks above causing his heartbeat to quicken, remembering he is still late and very much doomed. It doesn't help that when he turns the corner he finds a teacher and a student. The woman was old, a bit taller than the student she was scolding. The child's head was bowed apologetically.
He couldn't make out the entire conversation, but hearing a few words left him shuddering from the tension in her voice. Obviously, this student caught her on a bad day, because she was saying something about being responsible and aware of your surroundings, a talk he had humorously had presumably a million times before. After a few seconds of debating whether to sneak past her, her gaze met his, and time froze instantly.
"Hey- Excuse me, young man. Where are you supposed to be?" She deadpanned, slight hints of annoyance trailing behind her tongue. Yoshi's voice was caught in his throat, and he felt almost like he couldn't breathe under her piercing stare. After a few silent seconds, she looked behind her to probably reply to the student behind her or something else Yoshi didn't care for at the moment, which sent off all the signals in his head to leave. So he sped off down the hall he had just come from. Unfortunately for him, the clean floor squeaked from the sudden movement of his sneakers against it and her attention was quickly guided in his direction. Shit.
He heard her shouts echo off the walls that seemed to leak with misdirected anger from the previous situation he had witnessed, and Yoshi prayed that he wouldn't be caught in the crossfire, although the rational side of him assured his racing heart that he shouldn't be running unless he wants to be perceived as guilty. He searched the walls to find an open room to hide in and after what felt like an eternity he saw an open entrance. Just as he turned the corner out of her sight once again, he pulled himself into the doorframe and hid.
He heard her footsteps halt in confusion and she called out again for him to come out, but he was too distracted by the loud beating in his head from the adrenalin to reply. He clutched his chest and curled in on himself silently, waiting until she walked away fully to rest. After he was sure he was safe he leaned his weight against the wall and looked up.
He gawked in awe.
He had stumbled into a massive library with rows upon collums of books on what he could only infer were artistic subjects. There were so many of them that it felt almost impossible that the school's budget was this abundant that they could spend such a large amount on their library. He stared for a while to catch his breath and calm down. God damn it, he should've just asked her for help.
He pushed those thoughts away and walked around, trying to distract himself from his current reality which he had ruined in the span of five minutes. The library was huger than he had expected and was way bigger than the one at his old boarding school back in Japan. He remembers spending his afternoons making short music samples using Asahi's keyboard they had recorded the night before on his shitty laptop. They edited it in free music software while sitting in an unreasonably comfortable chair, which was his favorite chair since it was the only one that wasn't slightly broken. He also remembers Asahi's voice begging him to leave him behind in that exact same chair a few days before- Wait a minute...
He noticed the same exact model of the chair he had sat on at his old school right in front of him. What are the odds?
He smiled, feeling an odd wave of nostalgia pass over him despite the chair from his old school being a quite recent addition. Not only was the chair positioned at the same exact angle and painted the exact same color as the one he had before, but the loose threads of the cheap material poked out in almost identical ways.
It honestly felt a bit creepy at this point.
Then he noticed the someone sitting in the chair. He was sitting rather politely in a way Yoshi did not know was possible. His posture was almost robotic as his head bent gracefully to the left as he looked out the window. He couldn't see their face but he noticed their hair; which was a pretty navy blue.
Regarding the way his hair shone against the golden glow coming from the large windows behind him, he wouldn't be surprised if he was hallucinating. It was almost identical to the rippling tides of an ocean shining against the warm sun. The man's beauty captivated him and he could not look away. His eyes just wanted more.
Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, which brought him crash-landing back down onto Earth.
He flinched in surprise, almost certain it was the older lady from before regarding his luck today.
But when he turned he was met with sociable dark brown eyes and a soft yet slightly confused smile.
"Hey there... You good?" Yoshi nodded jerkily, his cheeks warming, eyes habitually looking away. Had he caught him staring at the guy? Would he call him a freak?
"I haven't seen you around. You new?" Yoshi nodded again. The guy smiled, which almost melted away the tension in his shoulders. He noticed the tear mole next to his left eye, which kindly complimented his round boba eyes. Was everyone here gorgeous?
"I could tell, you seemed a bit lost." Yoshi didn't know how to respond so he laughed lightly, hoping that was what he was supposed to do.
"So, you need help getting to your class?"
"Yes, please." Yoshi, despite his efforts, let out a desperate and heavy reply. The guy laughed.
"No worries. This school is like- massive. Even I get lost when I don't pay attention. What class do you have?" Yoshi looked away again and shook his head, too embarrassed to admit he lost his schedule.
"You don't know? It's fine, bro, seriously. It's normal. Follow me." He laughs again—which he couldn't tell if it was in a mocking way, but oh well— and grabbed his wrist, pulling Yoshi along with him toward the librarian's desk. Although he flinched, he forced himself to put up with it for the time being. Besides, it's the least he could do.
Then he went around to the gate on the other side and pulled out a mysterious amount of keys clipped to his studded belt. He unlocked the door and went up to the computer, typing a few things into the keyboard, dark hair falling over his eyes.
Yoshi looked behind him again to ease his nerves, eyes somehow falling back onto the boy from before. At this angle, he could see he was wearing glasses. They were a bit chunky and beaten-looking but somehow fit his face perfectly. How did he look so perfect? Yoshi felt like this was a bit unfair. He turned his gaze back onto the guy helping him get back to class, now afraid if he continued to stare he couldn't stop.
He locked eyes with the boy who was now looking up at him expectantly. Yoshi froze.
What did that mean? Had he said something?
"Your name?" He voiced. Yoshi pursed his lips in embarrassment.
"Yoshinori..." He said, hoping he heard him.
After a few seconds of silence, the printer started to vibrate with noises until Jihoon pulled out a freshly copied schedule.
"Here you go, Yoshinori." Yoshi grabbed the paper.
"Uh... Y-you can just call me Yoshi." He said, trying to say it confidently but deflating at the end of his sentence. The boy nodded anyway, immune to the awkwardness lingering in the air.
"Jihoon." He said simply. "Need me to walk you to class?"
Yoshi felt his cheeks burn for the fourth time that day. He almost shook his head but he guessed he probably looked pathetically skeptical so Jihoon stated on his offer again, reassuring him.
"Bro. It's fine. I'm like- on the student council so I do this all the time. You're not bothering me." Jihoon ensured. Yoshi felt a bit taken aback but agreed.
That was suspiciously thoughtful.
♬
They now walked out into the hallway, somewhat awkwardly but hey, it was bearable enough.
After a few moments of silence, Jihoon spoke up again.
"By the way, Yoshi. Don't be afraid to ask a teacher. The majority of them are pretty nice. If not just come look for me. I'm usually just wandering around." Yoshi nodded, an apology on the tip of his tongue. But it died as soon as Jihoon closed his mouth.
Cmon, Yoshi. Say something...
"So.. um..." He immediately regretted his fruitless attempt to save the dying conversation.
Jihoon's eyebrows arched in curiosity, giving him his full attention. They made eye contact. Yoshi shut his mouth immediately and looked away. Damn it.
Silence..
Silence..
"I saw you looking at that boy in the library. You into him?" His tone was mocking, almost in a teasing way. Yoshi couldn't even ponder on his tone of voice because soon enough he was a sputtering mess, choking on the smelly bleach air.
Of course, he's only coughing because he was caught off guard. Not because he's into that guy.
Ah, the janitor will pay for this one later...
"Huh- I- Um- What?" He tried to defend himself.
Jihoon barked out loud ripples of laughter at his reaction, even clutching his stomach like he told the funniest joke in the world. Yoshi almost had it in him to be mad.
The empty hallway suddenly felt like a large stage with a crowd of people in front of it.
"Relax, relax. I won't tell him." He smirked while winking and Yoshi felt his ears burn, frustration building in his chest. "No- I-"
He howled out another wave of laughter, Yoshi felt as if he should punch him for being so loud, although he refrained from doing so.
Oh my god, my life is over.
"I-I'm joking- Oh my god-" His laughter slowly piped down into giggles, although still very frequent. Yoshi had stopped walking and buried his face into his hands. Oh god. It was always too good to be true.
"Your reaction- ow-.. Was so- Oh my god." Jihoon hugged his side. "Ow-.. cramp.." Yoshi felt like that was deserved.
His laughter had finally subsided. Yoshi felt humiliated and weirdly, a bit fluttery. He had never had a partner- let alone a crush. He never wanted to date any man or woman. Love for him felt reserved. Something way out of his own reach. Something uselessly time-consuming and baseless. He had never even thought about loving a man. He could never do that...
"Here's your clas- Oh hey!" Amidst the chaos of Jihoon's teasing, another guy had shown up. "Hyung! Wait- Don't you have a class? Ow!" A slightly shorter guy with vibrant purple permed hair hung around Jihoon's shoulders, giving him an aggressive noogie which Yoshi was grateful for.
"Ah- Quit!" Jihoon barked but a smile tugged at his lips, tackling the guy with ease. The guy yelped playfully.
Yoshi felt a bit like a bystander. And he wanted to leave as quickly as possible.
Without bidding his goodbyes—which he was sure Jihoon didn't deserve anyway—he went inside his classroom, thirty-five minutes late for his first period.