We’re All Alone

Tala’s heart hardened so quickly after returning to their pop culture-polluted hometown. They never thought they were the kind of person to be that way- to lose everything, the joy, the laughter- all because of how someone else acted. 

Well, there were a lot of “someone else-s” in Rogue that made them sick.

Despite being the easy class favorite in elementary, their return was met with no reaction when they refused to speak to their highschool colleagues. They thought they were the only one in that whole school who didn’t have gears whirring somewhere inside them- at some point, it wasn’t hard, or even entirely baseless for them to consider themselves not even being of the same species as their classmates, in the position they were in. Just like that, they were back in the States again. Maybe it was their fault, or maybe it wasn’t- either way, the once-beloved clown had become an outcast, rejected anywhere they went.

He wordlessly set a fallen pencil onto their desk- in their restless thoughts, the child hadn’t even realized it had fallen.

“…”

Genkei Ishida. The best grades… the second-strangest kid in the school, lesser only to them. An uptight freak who tried his hardest to make up for social ineptitude with a decently-sized brain. He would’ve been quite respected if he could only hold a conversation.

Their eyes met, but he looked like a babe in the woods noticing a predator. Their glare had become a consistently angry look- scaring off many would-be conversation partners.

There was no reason to say anything to him. They didn’t feel like thanking the boy, that was for sure…

But they were pretty bored.

Ah, what the hell.

<You picked that up so fast.>

He had no reason to be afraid, even as his classmate’s harsh tone pricked him. Genkei didn’t normally notice that kind of thing to begin with.

<It rolled over to me. I was afraid it would go away.> He checked to make sure nothing else had fallen to the polished ground. Tara snorted.

<I dunno… you were pretty quick about it. You don’t want something from me, do you?>

<I’d ask if I did.> There was nothing noteworthy about the boy’s appearance. It was the one unique thing about him. They couldn’t even pin down the emotion on his face- if not something like blind childish innocence. <Do you need anything?>

<I’m bored. Tell me… what trickery do you have?> They spun. <Something like… the knife fingernails? Or maybe the jetpack one that got the guy killed last week?>

<I don’t… have any trickery.>

This person was extremely… extremely interesting.

<Why not? You know everyone else is getting it. What, are you poor?>

<I keep a tight budget. Not worth spending money on things I don’t need.>

<Like a decent sense of fashion…?> They wore uniforms, of course, but it was night-and-day comparing the two student’s gakurans. His must’ve been a hand-me-down- two generations down, at least. The mismatching buttons and zero personalization out of fear of rule-breaking paled in comparison to the half-buttoned, almost delinquent-like suit they sported, enhanced with a sailor scarf.

<Oh.> It was weird, they thought they heard him giggle. <Are you bullying me?>

<Don’t tell me that’s what you’re here for.> Their eyes narrowed.

<It’s okay. I’m used to that. It’s the one thing I… get, you know?>

They couldn’t let this opportunity slide.

<Then I’ve decided.>

<What?>

<I’m gonna be your best friend. Got me?>

For the first time in his conversation with the outcast, he actually felt scared.