worn out.

R For Rancore

A breeze of dusty air made him shut his eyes and hold back a cough. The train ran on the track, faster than he could keep his eyes on it. He looks with his coal eyes as it comes to a screeching halt and A-class begins to board. They step on with stiff shoulders and tired eyes. One is falling asleep as he waltzes on, feet tumble over each other.

Atsu licks his pink lips, they swell on his pale face, it's unnoticable in comparison to the splitting headache and the raw pain that seems to reverberate through his entire body. He was an odd mix of both his parents. He looked so delicate, like a porcelain doll. Pale skin with dark, soft hair and solid colored eyes. Thin, fingers and long, dark lashes, his midnight hair is long enough to frame his skinny face and the scars on his upper neck.

The End Class watches as D-class finally begins to board the first class section of the train; envy burns in most of their eyes. Alas, at this point they are used to it; it has become almost a joke in their eyes. "Man look an those lucky jerks, gettin' to ride first class."

"And as always we're stuck in coach. Yay for us, right guys?" A blonde says sarcastically, her voice is so dry it rivals a stranded desert.

Atsu watches as the homeroom teacher places one leg on before turning to them.

Karma had always hated the D-class homeroom teacher. His condescending smile and narcissistic eyes; his ever perfect haircut, the delinquent hated it all. He bites his tongue when the teacher begins to talk. His fists are balled and he closes his golden eyes so that nobody can see his deathly glare being directed at the silver haired male. Red fills his senses and he can almost feel the gun in his hand. The metal is as cold as his heart, shriveled and black from years of negligence.

"Now now boys and girls, try not to look so sad. Rules are rules, you know how this works."

A dark purple head of hair pops out from the cart comically; his friend with chubby cheeks and a red, topless cap follows underneath his taller, skinny figure.

"The student handbook states that those of us with the highest grades get dibs on school funds."

The purple haired ones voice is nasally an high pitched, his nose is twisted terribly and his glasses reflect lamely at the suns blinding light; his eyes seem like dots.

Eating what seemed to be a dog biscuit, the shorter, chubbier freckled face of his friend moves in coherence to the egotistical words spilling from his nonexistent lips.

"Oh~ is that the putrid stench of abject poverty filling my nostrils?" He taunts.

Taps on the platform disturb them. "Oh, pardon me boys," Her voice is seductive and full of something fake. Atsu doesn't know what; maybe something like plastic or rubber.

She is wearing what Atsu would only describe as a whores outfit. A well fed whore, of course. Stiletto heals that make her tall form about six centimeters taller, fishnet stocking with rose designs sprinkled about, a showy shirt that opened to her massive cleavage, a skin colored beret in her blonde, curly locks; and to pull the look off completely, large sunglasses that covered her baby blue eyes.

"Um, professor Bitch, why are you dressed like the paparazzi should care who you are?"

She brings her gloved hand to her sunglasses and pulls them off. She chuckles at their naivety. Her lips are split into a cocky grin.

"When it comes to womanly wiles, a gal pulls out all her stuff. Besides, travel isn't an excuse not to look devastatingly fashionable." Her gloved hand is out in a basic girl pose, her large sunglasses in them.

Karasuma cuts her off. "You stick out like a sore thumb. Go change. You're a chaperone, not a runway model."

"Oh come on! Lighten up, what's wrong with a little style, these kids are going to the city after all. Have a little fun!"

"Shut up and go change. Now."

She frowns and walks away, a pout on her cherry lips. She wallows in sadness as she runs to the bathroom to dress in something more common.

_

The train ride is quiet as the tracks begin to even out. Groups discuss where they will visit, assassination attempts and just talking about random things. Atsu is seated next to Karma, his head laying on the headrest of the seat as he drifts off.

Nobody notices him asleep, except his seatmate of course, and the redhead grins. Thinking up something sadistic that will surely get the boy to show some firm of emotion. Hatred, fear, sadness, happiness, contempt, disgust, it really doesn't matter to the callous male. The only thing that matters is that Atsu feels. Because then一 because then一 because then what?

And then he hears it.

It's soft and almost not there, he is sure the only reason his ears picked up on it was due to the close proximity at which he was to the ravenet.

It's a whimper.

Atsu brings his hand to his bandaged forearm and pulls it toward his chest cautiously. Warbled sounds mumbles from his lips and Karma watches.

Then the doll-like boy goes limp and the curious creature he is, Karma gently grabs his arm and rolls up the sleave.

His aureate eyes shrink and his breathing stops. His heartbeat is loud in his ears, so loud it hurts.

Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't bandages, especially not ones that were blood red.

R is for Rancor;

My body is far too sore

Covered in fleshy scars

In wounds that all but fall apart

I can taste the lies

The eternal loss of lives

Blood is raining from the skies

Or is that from my burning eyes?

The water is far too cold

My body is far too old

My edges are burnt and I am no longer bold

I am done with my life in this prison of gold

It's time I finally break from my mold