their new dawn. | inso's law

04 # food solves all problems, maybe just not my life

choi joon can't tell if he's evoked the gods' wraths or graces.

actually, he has a fairly good hunch it's the former. what has provoked such thoughts you may ask? well...

after three months of medical leave on absence (re: his suicidal recovery), choi joon finally returned to school. he had little to no idea how the original choi joon's reputation was, but decided there was no point in trying to mimic him anyways.

he was regrettably dead and choi joon did not feel like making things more difficult for him than it already was. school may as well be the first step to embracing his life and being able to act as himself for once; not the deceased one.

anyways, his body was one of an eleven year old, meaning it was currently enrolled in primary school, grade five; but, his mentality was of somebody that is fourteen. are we seeing the issue here? (he does not want to think about the implications of how young the choi joon was when he took his own life life)

so his current dilemma.

yay for the fact that his coursework is tremendously easy as a) not to brag, but he's always had a knack and thing for studying but also b) his memory of his past is still very well retained.

boo because the work is too easy. he's breezing through the paperwork in thirty minutes or below; the lectures are mind numbing and brain rotting as he's already thoroughly familiarized with the content; and finally, finally— the worst of it all: he's become a teacher magnet.

they ask for him to assist his classmates, help grade work, and even deliver important documents. it's not that he minds (he was literally student council president) but choi joon is practically an unpaid TA at the this point. it is, very depressing.

and lonely. definitely lonely.

the ravenette gets along with his classmates fine but considering how he's indefinitely more mentally mature and developed while also having no actual self-made bonds with them, the conversations are incredibly limited.

besides, even if there were some friendship bonds, they would have been created by the late choi joon and this choi joon is not ready to confront nor address the imposter syndrome that haunts his dreams. maybe another time.

point is, the gods definitely have a vendetta against him.

so here's a dedicated message filled with love just for the deities: fuck you.

emerald green eyes blink blearily, a lulling buzz drafting through his ear as he flips through another exercise book he was able to scrounge up from the bottomless abyss known as his desk.

another dud he finds himself thinking as he mentally checks the difficulty of the problems. three pages were silently solved in a breeze. gently and quietly, the volume is pinched shut. it's sent to time out back inside the table as choi joon tries to find another thing to distract his wandering mind with.

the task proves to be more difficult than he thought, but eventually, he finds himself observing the rest of the class.

his seat is located in the back left corner: the farthest away from the class doors and the most hidden from the teacher's view. it's pointless because they don't call on him anyways after realizing how thorough and extending his knowledge was, but choi joon figures the tacked on detail is nice.

it makes him feel better if nothing else.

lazily, he watches the other students take valiant notes, pens scribbling away as the teacher, mr. yoo who teaches math, proceeds to drawl on. chalk scrapes on the old fashioned chalk board as digits form arithmetic problems.