Ripped Love Letters / Isagi Yoichi

VII

It's two in the afternoon, a regular day for Kazuya-- the same old, same old. Usually, it would've been a few offensive drawings, "That's definitely...something." He would whisper. He never made a big deal of it.

But today, he feels like crying. It's right there, visible to anyone who passes by. You couldn't ignore it if you wanted to, it's that eye-catching.

The graffiti is covering a row of lockers, 'Isagi doesn't like it from behind!' Is painted in white, capitalized too.

There's a few slurs surrounding it, but Kazuya's way too out of it to notice. His school bag slips off his shoulder and drops to the floor, the book inside smashing onto the ground and echoing through the hallway.

The students walking around him stop and stare, whispering and pointing at the context of the locker.

He stiffens, and opens his locker as much as possible to cover the words. His fingers reach for the rag and glass cleaning spray behind his textbooks, 'This is the second time this week.'

Though the majority of the students were silent watching him clean the scene, a group was laughing-- next to them was his very own sister, looking at him with a blank look. Nothing he didn't expect, he gets that look everyday.

Kazuya didn't need help, he needed them to leave him alone. He wanted to be able to wear a pin that sported a combination of blue, purple, and hot pink. He wanted to be able to be proud about who he is, but he can't-- not in this school anyways.

He's sure that if Ninomae was able to show emotions, she would be crying for him...Right?

His tears drip down his chin, colliding with the cold tile floor. He's scrubbing nothing at this point, just trying to stall time so he won't have to look anyone from the crown in the eyes. He's waiting for them to leave, but they won't.

A pattern of footsteps are getting louder, "Kazuya? What's going on?"

He froze, his grip on the towel tightening. Clearing his throat, he pushes his locker door further to cover the rest of the words. Isagi's eyes trail to the crowd of people watching him, then back to the locker he's pushing onto the neighboring ones.

"Huh? Oh, nothing. You should go to class." Kazuya frowned, trying to hide his tear stained face from Isagi as much as possible.

He subtly wiped his wet eyes on his shoulder, "Don't worry about this." His hand shakes as he gestures to the locker in front of him.

The dark-haired boy narrows his eyes to see the obvious writing on the row of lockers, his eyes widening in realization. "Kazuya-!" He steps towards him.

"I-i'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I'll clean it up- please just look away." He fumbles with the grayish towel and moves down the hall to clean the rest.

Isagi rushes to pull his hand towards the staircase, down the front door of the school. The outside is like a fresh breath of air to Kazuya, though, right now-- he can barely breathe.

The hall is quiet, Ninomae steps forwards and slips his bag onto her shoulder. She sighs and stares at the lockers for a few seconds, then gestures to her clique to follow her to a classroom. They agree, and follow her-- the crowd getting smaller within seconds.

A janitor shows up, frowns at what's in front of him, and starts wiping the metal doors down. "Poor kid." He whispers.