Frank x Jake | Subwaysurfer (Crack? But also not?)-Fic[OLD]

Chapter 7

Thinking back to before he had been taken in by the infinity organization, when he still went to school, Frank had always been the best in sports among his peers. He was the fastest, the smartest, and had the best physical agility.

It wasn't that out of the ordinary back then. There was always someone in your class who was just naturally better at something, right? That's just how people were born— with talents. Some were better at art, some were better in school and some people had better physical characteristics like that.

However, when that 'dominance' stretched into his time while being trained in the organization's academy, it had been odd. How can the people that were more experienced than him, older than him, and the people that had been training for much longer still be worse than him when it came to such things?

When asked, Mr. Sir simply said it was his talent. Nothing more, nothing less. Not even 6 years later did Frank ever figure out what he truly meant. Talent can only do so much, after all. It can't make him the top assassin in the academy. That just wasn't fair, was it?

As Frank grew older, he learned to simply accept it and move on. His group always won dodgeball because of him in this new school, so what? He could jump higher and throw the balls better during basketball, so what? He finished all the races first, so what? It's not like it mattered anyway.

Until today it suddenly did.

After Mr. Sir's call, maybe a few hours later, Frank decided to go to sleep. It had been difficult after seeing the updated mission, but he managed. He woke up feeling a bit off, but that didn't matter. He fed Mrs. Daisy Mae, changed, and prepared his backpack. Frank gathered his previous plans on murdering his target and threw them into the trash can.

Then Frank consciously avoided thinking about how he almost somehow threw his backpack against the ceiling by hoisting it up a bit too strongly. He also avoided thinking about when he stumbled over a small stool on his way out of the kitchen, he almost automatically balanced himself with ease that hadn't come to him before.

And he ignored how when he tripped over his feet while stepping down the stairs of the apartment complex because somehow he had gone way too fast without noticing, that ease didn't come so easily at all and he tumbled down the stairs instead. Frank's cheek and head hurt now and he was pretty sure both were bruised just by the stinging, but he avoided thinking about that as well on his way to school, glaring ahead as he walked.

—

Frank knocked on the door of the classroom, having arrived a tad later than intended because of the morning's irritating events. There was a muffled 'come in' from the other side and he did so, stepping in. The class's eyes were on him, staring in surprise and curiosity but he didn't care. He gave them an annoyed scowl. Then Frank turned back around and pulled the door shut behind himself a bit harsher than he meant to. The action followed with a loud crack.

Silence. Then Frank pulled his hand back to reveal what damage he had done to cause a sound like that. Before he even had the chance to properly react, a few classmates sitting close enough gasped. Strings of dark cracks ran from the handle further into the door, a harsh contrast against its light gray paint.

Frank gulped, unable to keep his hand from twitching a few times. He retracted said hand back to his side, and before he even got the chance to explain himself, ( which probably wouldn't have helped anyway ), the teacher sent him to the principal's office. Just like that, he messed up his entire school day.

As he waited for the principal to finish talking with another teacher in her office, Frank sat on a chair outside the door. With his arms folded together, his backpack still on, Frank kept his head down.