KIYOTAKA ISHIMARU
shsl moral compassx─xomae wa mou shindeiru
xxxxxxthe hallways felt exceptionally desolate today, even back when the students were still aimlessly roaming around and doing… whatever it was that teenagers did these days. muttering under their breaths, scheming against the teachers whenever they dared. which was all the time, mind you. they weren’t studying or focusing on the more significant matters that was for sure, and thus were ultimately wasting their time. much like he was right now. the idea made him grit his teeth furiously, anxiously, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he’d already finished the homework for this particular course weeks ago, then he might as well have exploded right there right now.
xxxxxxduring the very first weeks kiyotaka had attended hope’s peak, it had already been made perfectly clear to him that here, amongst all these ‘high-class important people’, he was never going to reach full comfort. perhaps it was this acknowledgment that raised all the imperfections above the surface. a school dedicated only to those at the top of their respective field… the thought was enough to spread a bad taste in his mouth. yet here he was, going against all his morals, receiving the treatment he believed should be incorporated within every single aspect of the society. it was simply frustrating and nothing to joke about. he sighs. at times like these, he wished he’d stayed somewhere closer to home. exchanging letters once a month just wasn’t the same.
xxxxxxfollowing the last students slip behind slamming doors - the aforementioned no doubt knocking something off the walls - the class representative goes to check for and pick up any left behind litter from the hallways. it was the most he could do to occupy himself now that the waiting game had begun. it was hardly surprising that one of these supposed ‘ultimates’ was performing poorly in their studies, and even less surprising that he had been called for help with the situation. some would even be so bold as to claim he lived inside the school’s walls, ‘forever watching’. that and many things just as ridiculous. things he’d heard at least a thousand times before. things that hardly had any effect nowadays. it was kinda ironic in some sense.
xxxxxxthe military-inspired uniform is adjusted to meet the demands of a perfectionist, every wrinkle straightened, every badge polished, every last dust particle shooed off the shoulders. looks were only ever so important when you were trying to max out your credibility, and unfortunately, in this specific case, every last gimmick was called for. yet despite all the words of encouragement he’d received from the fujisaki department, kiyotaka still felt like the only thing he could do was cross his fingers and hope for best. how someone as meek and good-natured as her had befriended this archetype of a bully went beyond his comprehension. there must’ve been something wrong there.
xxxxxxand speak of the devil… the intense reds finally pick up movement from the lobby, late like always, bringing in the distinctive, disgusting smell of gasoline into the school environment. make no mistake, it’s him. breaking at least thirteen codes in the book of practicality. it was a mess. but a mess that had been assigned to him, and there was no way, for as long he had a say in it, that he’d leave a fellow student hanging. kiyotaka stands firmly like a statue, his expression supposedly neutral but coming off enraged, staring at the newly arrived figure at the other end of the lobby.
xxxxxx“oowada-kun,” he addresses the taller male respectfully but in his unintentionally loud voice, though instead of the usual blaming words, he’s decided to go with an… arguably softer approach; “i thought i might find you here. there is something i must discuss with you this instant!” the haunting silence of the hallways is broken as he begins marching in the direction of the troublemaker, his gaze unwavering. but the closer he gets the more nervous he grows. not because of mondo himself, but rather his grades continuously spiraling downwards, and the pressure of potentially being the only one able to prevent what was nearly an inevitable expelling. or at least, that’s what he’d been told. “you are not in a hurry, are you?”
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