VOCALOID ONESHOTS (Requests open!)

Fukase x Reader: As the Leaves Fall

TRIGGER WARNINGS: scars

For Ruruvia

Every day.

Every day you go to the park after school, in the tucked-away little forest by the bike paths. You go there every day until it's too cold for you to walk home, or it's raining too hard. You go there and listen to music in the shade of the maple trees.

And every day this school year, he's been there too.

You don't know his name. He looks your age, and he dresses oddly. His hair is bright red, and so is his left eye- he must wear contacts. He always has a patch over his right eye, and you can see a large patch of scars on that side of his face. He always wears a top hat with a black brim, a thick white stripe in the middle, and the top is as red as his hair. On the white part were two large googly eyes, and a drawn-on cat mouth as well as whiskers.

Today he's wearing a cream-colored sweater with two red stripes on the chest, and a pair of dark brown pants. His clothes look incredibly simple compared to what you're dressed in- but that's not your fault, your school dress code is incredibly strict. At your school, boys have to wear dress pants and a button-down shirt, and there's also the option to wear a blazer and/or a tie. Girls have to wear the same pleated skirt, and a polo shirt or a button-down, and they also have the option of a blazer and tie. Both boys and girls have to wear white socks and black or brown shoes, preferably dress shoes.

You hate the uniform. You spend a lot of time thinking of what else you could wear- comfortable t-shirts, hoodies, flannels. It's mostly the idea of wearing better shirts that bugs you, the school shirts are all itchy.

You're distracted from your thoughts by the wind shaking the trees, causing the brown maple leaves to fall and scatter themselves over the grass, on your homework, in the boy's lap. You realize then that you left your pencil case at school.

Biting your nails, you nervously look over at the redhead. His face is emotionless and you can't tell if he's the kind of person you'd ask about this. Out here in the middle of an open space, people are less likely to hear you scream.

You summon all your courage and stand up, nervously tiptoeing to him. "U-um...do you, um, happen to have a p-pencil?"

He looks up and nods, fishing a tiny pencil out of his pocket and handing it to you. You grab it quickly and return to your homework, scribbling away at the math problems as quickly as your brain can go. You catch him watching and it scares you, but you still timidly return his pencil and thank him.

"Hey," he says when you hand it back, his voice almost a growl. "Uh, I think you messed up on one of those."

"Oh...um, really?" you mumble.

"Yeah," he says, walking over to where your papers are. "Here." He sits down and points to question five. "Here, it's not a big mistake, but you want these to have common denominators. Otherwise you'll end up with some weird integer combination." He fixes the problem for you, his voice and facial expression staying as emotionless as ever.

When he's done, he hands you the pencil. "Keep it. Oh, and nice to meet you...Y/N."

You realize he saw your name on your paper, and it makes you want to laugh. "What's your name?" you say, stifling a giggle.

"Fukase," he says, turning and leaving the park.

For the next couple weeks, the two of you help each other out with your homework. He never has a backpack, his papers are always folded up in his pants pockets. He's horrible at French and History, you're bad at science and math. He goes to a private school just ten minutes away from your school, and he doesn't have a uniform except for having to wear white, red, brown or black. He has a pet turtle who he loves dearly, and he says the eye that's bandaged can't see.