tomodachi - I. Bad Ending
~友達~
~tomodachi~
I. Bad Ending
“K8?” Tadayoshi Ohkura looked down at what was printed next to the words that read “desk number” on his nametag, which had been stuck gently onto his pale, white shirt. Looking down at the nearest desk from where he had just stepped in at the front of the classroom, he saw “A4” written at the top left corner in thick, black marker. The desks were clustered into table groups of four, and it seemed as if the teacher had skipped letters in his labeling, only using every other letter in the roman alphabet, A C E G I and K, and also skipped numerals within each group, only using even numbers, 2 4 6 and 8. His table, he assumed according to the alphabet, would therefore be in the back of the room.
Ohkura sighed, as a frenzy of first impressions streaked across his thoughts. The way the teacher arranged the seats seems a little quirky… but there are only twenty-four desks. Small classes are nice… but it’s harder to pay attention in the back… And I’m really going to need to focus in order to keep up in a math class…
Stepping forward, his eyes scanned over the desks, searching for the table group labeled K. Before long, he spotted his seat K8; he kept his gaze focused on his desk, determined not to lose track of it before he reached it. Only after Ohkura reached his seat did he notice that there was already someone sitting at the desk beside his.
The boy looked older than him, and as Ohkura sat down, the boy’s eyes had darted upward to meet his. Ohkura’s own eyes widened, suddenly conscience of the stranger’s gaze that seemed to pierce effortlessly through his own. Unrelenting, raven black, filled with disdain, it looked as if his eyes had, at a young age, already witnessed the immense suffering from the world’s most wearying pain. His body was held in a similar apathy, his back leaning, slouching listlessly in his seat. He wore a pair of dark blue jeans, ripped somewhat artfully at the knees, wrinkled and baggy, hanging indifferently off his hidden, otherwise slender legs. A dark T-shirt, pure black like the starless night, draped limply off his broad shoulders, the sleeves barely concealing his beautifully sculpted muscles, boasting their strength, outlined under his tanned, healthy bronze complexion. His book bag lay untouched at his feet, and his legs spread out wide as if he had no cares for others’ personal space or perception of him. After the brief second their eyes met, the boy sniffed, wrinkling his nose, notably uninterested by Ohkura’s presence, and turned away.
Out of apprehension, Ohkura looked away as well, pulling his book bag onto his lap to takeout his notebook and pencils, setting them on his desk in preparation for class. His eyes stole a sideways glance at the older boy, finding himself somehow drawn to his unkempt, uncaring aura.
To his surprise, the older boy had followed his example and set out his supplies, too. Ohkura smiled shyly at him, hoping to maybe make a new friend already on his first day of college. The older boy’s eyes remained cold, his icy stare unfaltering before he sniffed once more, wrinkling his nose slightly again, and turned away. Again.
The naïve smile faded from Ohkura’s lips, the evanescent hopefulness leaving behind only an empty void of rejection in his heart. At that exact moment, luckily, the bell rang, and Ohkura turned his full attention forward, eager to absorb as much learning as he could, even from the back of the classroom.
“Welcome to Calculus,” the teacher stated simply as he walked into the room with a nonchalant gait. “Ah, I see a few familiar faces I recognize in this class. Here for your second try, I see. You’ll try your best not to fail again, I would assume. Right, Mr. Nishikido?” The teacher addressed Ohkura gruffly.
“Me?” Ohkura asked in fear. “S-Sir, this is my first year here, I-I mean, I-I’ll try my best not to fail, but-”
“Not you,” the teacher snapped. “The student sitting beside you. Ryo, you will try to learn something this time around, won’t you?”
Ryo’s eyes narrowed with ire. “What, are you trying to imply something?” he questioned the teacher rudely.
In return, he merely chuckled softly. “Nothing at all. I’m absolutely thrilled to have you in my class again.”
Ryo rolled his eyes.
“Moving on,” the teacher continued, ignoring his wordless answer.
Ohkura bit his lip, unsure of how to respond to having been caught in the middle of what seemed to be crossfire. He cast his eyes downward and found himself not wanting to look at either the teacher or the boy sitting next to him, not knowing if the compulsory action came to him out of fear or just his usual timidity.
“You may think it strange, but I’ve put your desks together into table groups for a reason; I believe that this way, you can all help each other. Don’t hesitate to ask one of your table group members if you have any questions. This way, I don’t have to stop class as often to answer questions if you can figure the problem out amongst yourselves. And by helping others, explaining through problems, you’ll probably learn something, too.”
From behind him, Ohkura heard a scoff, “You just don’t want to teach us anything yourself.”
Ohkura frowned and turned slightly to whisper softly. “You shouldn’t be so disrespectful to the teacher like that,” he warned.
“Why not? He doesn’t respect me,” Ryo shot back, presumably angered by the new kid already beginning to defend the object of his annoyance.
“But still…” Ohkura tried to refute him, but decided against it, quickly turning around to face back toward the front of the room. Talking during class was already a little too out-of-line for him.
~~
Ohkura forlornly ambled back to his dorm after sitting through a silent lunch he had eaten alone; his hollowed gaze was drained and disconsolate. But being at a new school, seclusion was expected. He would make friends eventually, he reassured himself with little confidence. Arriving at his dorm, in the midst of his memories of the painful loneliness he seemed to have been living through his entire life, Ohkura fumbled around his pockets for the keys.
Just as he unlocked the room, the door threw open from the inside, and he fell painfully onto the cold hard floor of the narrow dorm hallway.
“Ow…” he muttered bitterly, rubbing his head, which had crashed loudly as it had slammed into the wall.
“Sorry… Oh wait, it’s you,” a voice from the figure standing above him stated monotonously.
Ohkura winced open his eyes to look up, the sudden seemingly brighter artificial lights overflowing his eye with stinging rays. “You’re…” he managed to breathe out weakly before the older boy finished his sentence for him.
“Ryo Nishikido. We met in Calculus today,” he said plainly. Ryo reached out a hand to help Ohkura up, but was otherwise outwardly unsympathetic toward the boy that had just fallen before him.
Ohkura accepted his hand warily, aware of Ryo’s unwelcoming tone. “Y-You’re my roommate?” he asked, a little frightened to hear his obvious answer.
Ryo sighed, his gaze turned toward the ceiling. “Yeah.”
Ohkura immediately regretted his question, sensing he may have accidentally insulted his new roommate “S-Sorry, it’s just that when I moved in this morning, your stuff was already here, and you w-weren’t…”
“I left early. Is that a problem?”
“N-No,” Ohkura shook his head fervently.
Ryo sucked in a sharp breath of air through his nose and exhaled in a deep sigh, as if he was already tired of being stuck in the same room with Ohkura. “We’re not even in the same grade; why the heck did they put us together?” he asked angrily.
Ohkura winced, incorrectly assuming that Ryo meant for him to give an answer to his question. “…Maybe they ran out of rooms?” he guessed.
Ryo frowned, contemplating the possibility. “Yeah, I guess they do have a pretty strict two-to-a-room rule here.” But after he said this, his frown deepened. He leaned forward toward Ohkura, his face coming so close that their breaths began to collide violently as Ryo muttered belligerently, “Aren’t we two loners lucky to have been paired together…” He let out another sigh, the warmth of the air sweeping across Ohkura’s lips, heated with sorrow.
Without a reply, Ryo had nothing more to say. Sniffing slightly as he shot Ohkura one last spiteful glare, he turned away, heading down the hallway. Ohkura gulped, releasing his trapped breath that he didn’t even realize had been held hostage in his throat.
This is not going to end well…
~~~
A/N: AHHH! I can't believe I totally did not notice yesterday was Ohkura's birthday!! o.o ARGHH I'm so mad at myself! NO, quite literally, I just ran through my house screaming, "I'M SO MAD AT MYSELF!!" LOL xDD Anywayy, (trying to salvage the situation) I find it conincidental yet strangely fateful that I posted my first fic that has Ohkura in it on Ohkura's birthday! ^^ hehee and before it's even MORE late, I've just got to say, HAPPY BIRTHDAY OHKURA!!! X3 Sadly, although I don't consider myself knowing that much about Ohkura (*whacked*).. from what I've seen, I really admire him for being really, really talented, but when he was unappreciated at the beginning, he persevered and worked really hard to get to where he is today (although I think we could always use a little more Ohkura <3 lol xD), and he still manages to live up to the kanjani8 fame of being crazy fun and adorably silly and lovable~ ^^ On a random side note, I found a photo of him that pretty much sums up his character in a nutshell. (LOL NOT REALLY!), but it's still funny! xD and I'm happy to see they celebrated his birthday on the Umareru set! :3
