The Red String - (Z and Yoi only)

Fist met flesh. Yukito spun and slammed his fist into the next idiot who came charging at him. 4 down. 3 to go. His golden eyes flashed and he let out a snarl as he ducked a swing from the meat-head and took him down with a one-shot to the gut. Someone nailed him in the face. He swore, spitting out the blood and taking that one down too. The last one ran away. He stood, glaring after him. He had warned them to leave him be. They had chosen not to listen. He wiped his lip with a sigh, picking up his bag and heading back towards the school building.

Another day to make it through. There was only half of the year left. Then he could graduate and try to find a job. Did he want to go to college? Yes. He ached to do something more meaningful with his life. But he couldn't. He had nowhere to go. He had to work. Had to provide for himself. Had to be saddled with a life of powerlessness and poverty. He scoffed, kicking a soda can that was in his path. He heard the whispers of people as he passed. Yukito Hattori, violent rebel, scary, dangerous, unpredictable, didn't belong at a school, always in trouble, probably a moron. He ignored it. Another day. He just had to get through another day. Take each day as it came and move on.

He moved to take his seat once he reached the senior classroom, in the far back corner by the window. People avoided him. Even the teachers had lost hope. A bright young mind tarnished by violence, they said. Nonredeemable, they said. Poor thing, they said. Lessons had long since stopped being of use. Instead, staring out the window had become routine, his mind spinning nonstop and whirling theories and concepts and ideas like rapid-fire, processing information faster than any teacher could feed it to him. He watched other students file in and take their seats. Class would start soon. He was prepared to do his usual, annoyed by the sheer happiness of the people around him. Make it through the day. That’s all he had to do. Make it through the day.

Another day. Another page. Another book. Looking up at the sky on her way to school, Bunko gripped a bit tighter onto her bag. The school year was already half over and then she would be expected to enroll into a university and follow a path she had not decided on yet. With grades highest, if not near highest in the class, the guidance counselor would politely suggest going into a high paying job. Politics, Medicine, or Law. None of which interested her. The clouds had grown to be darker and that was her sign to quit lollydaddling around and get to class.

The assigned seat next to a desk near her window. That was her destination. Detours, she thought. A reminder that she was on library duty after class, that the geology club wanted her help, and yet another meeting to discuss what she would do after college. All of which she dismissed with a simple nod of the head with her shuffle to the classroom.

"Prude", "Nerd", "Bookworm". All insults hurled her way. Fingers pushed aside the door to the classroom and finally she was at the safety of her desk. Bag hooked on the side, she pulled the book out and hid her face in it away from the people that had pushed her into the corner. All Bunko Hitomi could think about was the bean bag and cup of tea waiting for her back home and the black cat that would warm her belly into a nap, or if the font was tiny enough, sleep.

He was right. People avoided him. They filled in the seats away from him as much as possible, until the last few stragglers were forced to sit in the desks next to and in front of him, with uncomfortable expressions on their faces. He ignored them. They would never understand. The teacher finally walked in. After roll call was done and the morning greetings finished, he began to lecture. History. Pointless. Yukito let his mind wander again. Mathematics. Pointless. Science. Pointless. Literature rolled around. The works of Shakespeare. Why they were learning about Western literature, he had no idea. He sighed inwardly and stared out the window.

It didn't even process through his brain when the teacher called upon him to answer a question. He just kept thinking about the way the world functioned, and how much he loathed it. He didn’t realize he was the center of attention until the teacher shouted at him.

“Hattori!”
“Hm?”

He looked up. The old man was staring angrily at him. Yukito sighed.

“Pay attention! What is the significance of Juliet’s faked death in Romeo and Juliet?”

He sighed again, annoyed.

“How should I know? Maybe she was just stupid”

The teacher got angrier, pointing toward the door.

“Go to the principal’s office!”

Yukito rolled his eyes, getting up from his desk and heading for the door.

“That’s fine. You’ve done me a favor”

He heard the snickers of his classmates. Idiot. Hopeless. Didn’t belong in school. He paused in the doorway, standing there with the door open. The teacher looked at him, then resumed his lecture. Yukito closed his eyes momentarily and sighed, then interrupted.

“The significance of her faked death is love. Due to a foolish love, she cannot bear to be with someone for the rest of her life that she does not love. She loves only Romeo. Through a series of unfortunate events, he does not realize that she has faked her death, and believes her truly dead, to which he takes his own life. Though she faked her death for love…she inadvertently caused the death of her lover and then herself. That one decision caused many deaths”

He walked out the door, closing it behind him and heading to the principal’s office. He knew that it would be the same as usual. He’d get yelled at for his behavior and told to stop causing trouble.

-

In the classroom, everyone sat in stunned silence. No one had expected him to answer. No one had expected him to have such a deep answer. Not even the teacher. When he recovered from his stupor, he cleared his throat and worked back into the lecture about Romeo and Juliet. It was almost lunchtime, and he needed to get as much of the information in before then as possible.

Same voices heard everyday, new topic to hear. Tapping the end of her pencil on the fake wood of her desk, Bunko kept trying to come up with a reason on why lessons couldn't be a thing that students did on their own. Every person had something they were good at that others didn't excel in. That was human nature. If everyone was good at the same thing, what a bland world that would be. As the motion of taking down notes continued to scribble along the lined paper of her notebook, she'd occasionally have to look down to make sure that the information being transcribed wasn't her inner monologue but the key notes of what the person at the front of the classroom was saying.

In between the classes when the teachers moved classrooms, she would retreat into the sanctuary of the latest book she was reading. This one being from an American writer and about a girl used as a poison tester for a tyrant who, if she is taking subtle context from the paragraphs of this chapter she had been stuck on for the past 3 breaks because of girls squealing about boyfriends and group dates, the girl will fall in love with a man who feeds her poison every day. Heart racing about a man who gives you something that will kill you if you don't take it every day so you won't run. What a bunch of idiotic romance.

Western Literature. One of her favorite classes. It was the only class that allowed to her read an entire book of make believe and get a score on it. Why wouldn't she love it? This is the class that had her shift her brain into the non default mode she had created over the years for school. The one where she actively listened and participated. Today wasn't a day she got called on though.

The troublemaker. Of course. At least 2 teachers a day tried to call on him and what he did after that, she usually tuned out and retreated to her own paradise. Today. Today was different. He answered with something usually only something she would answer. A deeper meaning hidden through the text of the entertainment called written word. Bunko was engrossed in his explanation
of Romeo and Juliet's death. Lips parted in shock as she stared. The rest of her favorite class, she had made a safe haven in her thoughts. It had to have been a fluke. Maybe he just had a love for Romeo and Juliet.

Even during lunch when she pulled out the plastic container with rice, fried meats, eggs, and vegetables from her bag, it plagued her thoughts similar to the plague that stopped Romeo from getting the information of Juliet's faked death. His response would be on her mind until something else managed to stun her.

He had been right. Same old same old. He got yelled at, warned about the consequences of his actions, and then sent off to go to lunch. He grabbed his food from the cafeteria, then headed outside, finding a secluded spot under a tree. He didn't like eating indoors with all the people talking and giggling and gossiping. It was annoying. He sighed for what seemed like the millionth time, eating the sandwich he'd gotten in silence. He watched the people that moved around. They were so ignorant. So blissfully ignorant.

"Idiots..."

He finished his food, leaning his head back against the tree. He waited for the warning bell before he headed back up to the classroom. Eyes were on him as he returned and took his seat. No one could believe his display of intelligence. They knew him only as the troublemaker. He ignored them all again, staring out the window. They had 3 more classes to go before final homeroom, and then freedom. He sat through them quietly like usual. None of the teachers tried to call on him. By the time homeroom rolled around, he was ready to go. He didn't want to be trapped in those walls any longer.

The homeroom teacher did the usual process. Discussing their futures and handing out a sheet about what their career plans were that was to be turned in the following week. He took his sheet, shoved it in his bag, and ignored it. The teacher cleared his throat, stacking his own papers.

"Clean up duty today will be done by..."

He prepared to get up. They never called on him to do clean up duty. They seemed to take relief in getting him out of the building as soon as possible.

"Hitomi Bunko and Hattori Yukito"

Yukito froze. What? No way. They never ever called on him. Were they stupid? Intoxicated? He stared wide eyed at the teacher in disbelief.

"What....there...must be a mistake..."

The teacher shook his head.

"The clean up duty cycles through the students, Hattori. Your turn has come"

Yukito bowed his head with a resigned "Hai, sensei", waiting until the other students started to clear out of the classroom. Clean up duty. A hassle. It would make him have to rush to get to work. He sighed when they were all gone, running a hand through his messy black hair and looking over to the girl called Bunko.

"Let's get this done and over with. I have things to do"

He rose from his seat, moving to the chalkboard and beginning to clean it, since he had the height advantage and could reach the top of it.

The only time she left her seat during lunch was to put the small paper cup that held the sauce covered meat in her bento into the correct container for trash. Other than that, she sat with book in hand reading the same line over and over again from her current book. How? How could one man and one simple show of intelligence bug her so much.

Bunko looked over to the girls in her classroom had been whispering about asking her to one of the group dates with guys from another school. They quickly changed to another girl in class who had recently come in to "being beautiful." No, Bunko thought. She now has the biggest breasts in class and these other girls likely just want to help her get a boyfriend in another school so the boys in the classroom don't phase her.

They likely think of her as competition to the hottest boy in the class. Of course, she didn't really care about him. He had mediocre test scores at best, mostly read sports magazines, and on some athletic team she couldn't pinpoint. Rumors had it that he played an instrument. Still, not that big of a deal to her.

Rumors though? That she did take interest on listening to. Whenever her book was boring, it was more entertaining to listen to the gossip that floated around the classroom in hush whispers. No one usually thought she was listening in because her head was always in a book.

Looking at the paper handed out at the end of final homeroom, she sighed. What was the point about picking a direction for her life to go in at this age? She barely knew what kind of tea she wanted to make when she got home.

Hearing her name though, that was a surprise. Although not as much as the name behind hers. Standing up quickly, hands went flat against the desk. "There must be some kind of mistake. I already have library duty, geology club, and a meeting with one of the sensei about further education today!' Apparently she was not in protesting the clean up. The male who was supposed to help had done something similar. A comment from the teacher, "I will let the library and club know you will be late and we can move our meeting to another day. Get to cleaning." "H-Hai, sensei.."

Sighing, Bunko just wanted to go home and cuddle up to her cat in her book nook. Was that so much to ask?

A simple hair tie was taken from her bookmark that pulled the short, dark purple hair up into a stumpy ponytail. Not the most flattering look but it was used to keep the hair out of her eyes. She wiped down the desks of those students that had already left and continued as they slowly straggled out.

She could feel tension on her side. Curiosity got the best of her this time, she wanted to probe his brain. What better time was there to talk while she washed down desks, saving theirs for last. "What you said today on Romeo and Juliet.. No one would have expected an answer like that unless it was from me or maybe one of two other people in the class. Do you like Shakespeare..?" Her voice was on the edge of nervous. They had never spoken a word to each other, at least from her memory. Or lack there of when it comes to social interaction.

Yukito worked in silence. The chalkboard was cleaned. The erasers were cleaned. The teacher's desk was cleaned. The garbage was put into one place for him to carry out when they left. He was sweeping the floors when the girl finally spoke to him.

"People don't look past exteriors. Even you were surprised. Don't act like you weren't"

He sent a glare her way, one that hid something deep behind it that no one would be able to figure out.

"I have no interest in social interaction. I have no interest in school. I have no interest in playing nice. You would do better in pretending like you hate me"

He finished up, slinging his uniform coat over his shoulder and grabbing his bag.

"I'm not the kind of person you should concern yourself with"

Yukito headed for the door, picking up the bag of trash. He wanted to be nice to her. He wanted to talk about literature and Shakespeare with her. But it couldn't happen. He couldn't be nice to others. He had to keep his 'troublemaker' title, whatever it took. He left then, making his way down the hall. He didn't have time to waste. He just silently hoped he hadn't made her cry.

When he finally responded, she had gone to the book shelf to straighten up and find the books that needed to put away in another room. The ones that did would be put in different piles. Ones that went to the library and then to one of the various rooms before that.

Turning her head at hearing his voice, she paused for a moment before staring at the book in her hand. "You're right.. I was. I would be stunned at anyone in this class giving a response like that, in my defense." She was shrinking back into her shell.

She didn't try to socialize often and it didn't look like this attempt would have positive results. His glare didn't need to be seen for her to feel it. Bunko would have been dead if looks could kill.

Going back to her desk, she had a pile of books to carry off on her way to library duty. Her response mumbled as he walked out. "I don't hate anyone."

Books in hand, heart swelled with unfamiliar emotions. She could feel the tears trying to come out but that wasn't her. Bunko didn't cry over boys. Boys weren't important. Friends, weren't exactly a priority. Books were put away and the rest of her day went slowly. Library duty went by slowly and not even her precious books could give her comfort. Geology club was skipped with an excuse of not feeling well and needing to go home to lay down. It wasn't a lie, at least, not a complete one.

Finally at home, she went to find the cat that would be waiting for her at the foot of her bed. No reading. No dinner. She fell asleep with her face smooshed by the warm belly of a black cat until the process of school started again tomorrow.

Another day. The days were a cycle. Wake up, go to school, go to work, go to work, go home, try to do homework, sleep, repeat. The only things that broke the cycles were his father periodically, or when he had other errands to run. He skipped the literature class as much as possible for about a week. He could hear the gossip around the school. No one believed that he had known about Shakespeare. Some said that he had to have stolen the quiz answer key. Others couldn't stop wondering if he was actually more intelligent than he let on.

Yukito entered homeroom a week after the incident, taking his usual spot in the back. He was early like usual. After a few minutes of restlessness, he got up and moved to one of the windows, sitting on the sill and staring outdoors. It was raining, a strong downpour. He inwardly swore. That would mean his work would be harder. Students started to file in, and he stayed where he was, moving only when the teacher came in to take roll call. Classes passed as per usual. He ignored the lectures, went to lunch by himself, then sat down for more classes. Ending homeroom was the most difficult.

The class representative announced that they had to prepare for the upcoming festival by deciding what their class would do. Everyone was required to participate. He swore inwardly again. Students called out their ideas, everyone voting. The list was simple. Haunted house, soba noodle stall, or maid/butler cafe. His sense of dread only grew as the votes piled up for the cafe, and he put his head down on his desk as it was chosen by a landslide. People voted on positions. Everyone ignored that he was in the room....at least until there were an uneven amount of boys and girls for being the maids and butlers. They were short one male to be a butler. The representative looked at him, trembling a bit.

"U-um...Y-Yukito-san....w-would you...consider being part of this...?"

He glared at the guy, watching the male wilt in fear. But he decided to surprise them, standing up from his desk.

"Fine"

Murmurs started about how he would never be able to be a good butler, and how they should just make him a dishwasher. He got annoyed quickly, approaching one of the girls that argued he could never charm anyone with how he was. He was vastly taller than her, and bent down enough to tilt her chin up with his fingers, his voice dropping to a low tone.

"How can I serve you, my lady?"

The girl's face reddened, and gasps went around the room. He let her go, standing back to his full height and glaring around at everyone.

"Is that good enough for you?"

People didn't object, and as the bell ring to let them all loose, he headed for the door. He had to get to work, even though it was raining. A teacher stopped him in the hall, dragging him to the office. They gave him the usual rundown. He needed to stop missing class. He needed to do better on his homework and tests. He needed to try harder. He needed to stop harassing students and teachers. He needed to stop getting into fights. He needed to turn in his life plan paper. He ignored them like usual, and left. It made him much later to leave than the other students.

All of the umbrellas were gone, including his own. He closed his eyes, and with a sigh, walked out into the rain. He was quickly drenched as he made his way to his first job. He changed out of his uniform, into the construction clothes, and headed out to the job. They worked hard for several hours, getting as much as they could done despite the downpour. When they were finished, Yukito changed into a set of regular clothes, folded up his wet uniform, and took it with him to briefly stop home. He put his things away, then headed out to his next job.

He dried off, then changed into the uniform for his job. He worked late into the night, the hour reaching 3AM before he was allowed to leave to go home. He was worn out, and once he got home, he dried off again and immediately collapsed onto his bed, breathing heavily. The rain had taken a toll on his body. He was tired. He got up, changing into a regular set of clothes, and headed into the kitchen. He made himself some ramen, sitting down to eat quietly. He was washing his dishes when he heard the slam of the door. His father stumbled in, drunk like usual, and locked onto him. Yukito prepared himself, going through the part of the cycle that had made him into what he was.

The following day, he felt terrible when he woke up. He was exhausted from not sleeping much, and his body was sore. He showered and got ready for school, thankful that it was sunny and warm. The day was slower than usual to him. By lunch, he felt worse. He thought about leaving to go rest somewhere, since he couldn't miss work, and wouldn't be able to work properly without resting a bit. He got up from his desk, when the girl from the day before approached him, a slight blush on her cheeks.

"U-um...Yukito?"

He looked at her, too tired to glare like he usually would have.

"Yeah?"
"Um...what I said yesterday....I'm sorry..."

He shook his head.

"You're fine"

She didn't walk away. He sighed.

"Something else you need, Maiko?"

She blushed a bit more.

"I...erm...I was wondering if you would eat lunch with me..."

He closed his eyes. So that was it. His skills had made her 'like' him. He mustered up the strength to yell at her. He felt very warm, and opened his mouth to start.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I would-"

He stopped suddenly as a wave of dizziness swamped him. He put his hand to his head. He felt too warm. He wished he could roll up his sleeves so he could be less hot. He turned his head back up to glare at her again.

"I would...would...never...would never..."

He didn't get to finish. The world turned to a blur, and the last thing he remembered was the feeling of falling sideways and the world turning to black.

-

Maiko screamed as Yukito suddenly fell to the floor. People gathered around. She dropped down at his side to get a better look. His cheeks were flushed, and he was sweating terribly. His breathing was incredibly labored.

"Get the teacher!"

People ran off to get a teacher and the nurse. She trembled. He had been about to be mean to her. He was going to reject her completely. He was going to be cruel and hurtful. But even then, she was still worried. The nurse and several teachers arrived, carrying Yukito off to the infirmary. She stayed behind, her friends comforting her as she explained to a teacher what had happened.

-

Outside of the infirmary some time later, the nurse stood talking to one of the head teachers. Her voice was soft and concerned.

"He's got a high fever and his body is exhausted. He's got a serious cold that will worsen if he doesn't rest. And....I've got another concern, Tanaka-san..."
"What's wrong, Saiyuki?"
"He's...covered in bruises"
"He gets into a lot of fights. I'm sure it's normal for him"
"No...these...aren't bruises from fighting. There are too many for that. He's covered in them. His chest and arms are particularly covered. It literally looks like someone has just been wailing on him. I'm concerned he's having troubles at home..."

She looked nervous.

"He hasn't woken up yet, so I can't talk to him about it, but I don't think he would tell me if he were having problems..."
"Just do what you can, Saiyuki. I'll see what I can do about this"

Things went back to normal after she spoke to the “troublemaker”. He ignored her and she retreated back to her books. It was as if the day they cleaned together never happened. Why should be acknowledged anyway? They only spoke a few sentences. Not even a conversation, or a half. It wasn’t really something to brag about. Talking to someone though outside of school projects, that was odd. It was between the two of them so life could go to the repetitive way it had before she opened her mouth.

The next few days felt kind of empty for Bunko. It could have been because she had tried to communicate with someone and the attempt didn’t go that well. Maybe it was because her dad wasn’t home on time and didn’t give her a number to call but sent a letter with money to pay for the house and more than enough to let her live if she didn’t spend it all on books. Which he wrote down in the letter he included. She didn’t bother to read it until she was in class next morning.

‘My dearest Bunko,

Travels are going well but it seems I won’t be home on time. I have to go find a few more gems to use in the shop and I am having difficulty finding them. Please don’t hold it against it me and know that I love you dearly. I sent along a purple gem that reminded me of your hair. I probably won’t be home for another month. Try to be social and get to know some of your classmates. You only get to be in high school once. Make memories and live.

- I love you dearly
- Papa

Flipping the envelope, the cash tumbled down in a thick wad, which she quickly hid between thighs. Not knowing how much was in there, she didn’t want classmates knowing she had the money that would pay for this month’s bills. The crystal that fell out had been cut in a way she knew was one of her dad’s favorites.

With the cord being wrapped around one end, it left a small point at the point that tapered to make a pendulum when swung correctly. When she was little, her father would sit in front a chart and use a stone that could only be described as prismatic. What he did with it, she couldn’t know.

As far as memory served, jewelry was forbidden but this piece was one she was willing to break rules for. It was the only piece of her father she had after his 3-month trip for his traveling crystal shop business. Tucking the dark stone under her uniform, her usual set up for class ensued. Notebook, pencil, eraser, and highlighter lined up and ready for use.

Resting her head on the desk, head turned to Yukito to watch as her gazed out the rain soaked window. A scene from one of the books she read. Troublemaker gazing out the window while hiding so many secrets. It was a classic scene in young adult literature. The only thing that was missing would be the boy crazy girls whispering how attractive he was. The detail was probably happening even if she listened for it. Bunko wanted to know what he was thinking about. It seemed much more interesting to try and figure out what he had on his mind than what they would be learning today in class. At least with him, she could spin up different thoughts and not know the answer since she would likely never talk to him again. It could be a new game for her to use as entertainment in the days where class bore her.

On the other hand, that could be taken the wrong way if he every caught her looking at him.

Shaking the thoughts off, he was pushed from her thoughts and ignored.

Listening to the class drone on about the school festival coming up, Bunko has started drifting off to sleep from the lull of background noise. That was when one of her worst nightmares proceeded to happen.

They were trying to decide on what girls to be maids. They had various roles that they would take yet they hadn’t decided on the “loli” made. The innocent, shy character that was obnoxiously cute. Just as Bunko was about to fall into a complete slumber, one of the guys next to her slapped her desk causing her chair to be pushed back and her to stand upright.

“Bunko volunteers to be the loli maid~ How cute! We can put her in a frilly costume and make her look like a European doll!” chimed in the class representative’s friend.

Several slow blinks before realization of the events that just happened were made aware to her now fully conscious self. Sinking back into the seat that awaited, forehead met desk with her negative emotions directed to the boy that sat next to her.

Then someone asked if he would mind helping out. Part of her inwardly scoffed at the thought while the other part lectured her saying to not deny the thought that he could do this easily.

After being held back for measurements, she was one of the last to leave on the rainy day that transpired. Seeing him without an umbrella, she silently hoped that wouldn’t get sick. Anyone being sick was a horrible thing. She had her dad’s extra ones that he could easily hide in his school bag. Two of them that she doubt her father would mind parting with.

The routine that night was standard. Make dinner for herself, feed the cat, make a bento for tomorrow. With too much leftover food for the meal, more than she could eat being on her own, she made a second to give away to one of classmates. Maybe give it to him with the umbrellas. The letter did say to make friends.

Putting the small star shaped carrots and potatoes with the rice, shaped eggs, and little lumps of chicken with rice, she knew whoever got it would at least think it was cute. The extra bento was set in a small bag with the two umbrellas.

Lunch the next day was different. She had just worked up the courage to give him the bag when he collapsed to the floor. Hearing the loud thump, eyes went wide and she instantly ran to get the nurse. While Maiko screamed for someone to get the teacher, Bunko had reached the nurse so the two adults would get there about the same time.

Maiko was there acting as if her soul mate had been wounded in wore. Disgusted by the act, Bunko took his bag and the one she put together and stood in front of the crying girl.

Voice quiet yet annoyed from the snotty, crying form, she spoke, “D-Do not act l-like he was your boyfriend. You h-hadn’t even spoken to him before he leaned over y-your desk and said a l-line out of a drama on tv making your heart race. I u-understand if you are scared b-because it was him fainting b-but don’t act like it is th-the end of the world because a g-guy you barely know that d-doesn’t even like you fainted when y-you tried t-to initiate flirting!”

Storming out of the classroom, she knew at least half the class would be in shock she raised her voice to a fellow classmate, spoke about a classmate, or basically just spoke. Some would be shocked she even knew what had happened. That is what comes with being the quiet girl. Observe all and shock when finally speaking about it.

Stomping off down the hall, her frustration dissipated the closer she got to the infirmary where he was currently resting. Stopping just outside to hear the nurses speak, she heard the conversation they held about the bruises. Covering her mouth with a hand, she silently slid down the wall her backside was against and decided to wait a few extra minutes to see if he would wake up before walking in.

When Bunko entered the infirmary, she would see the nurse leaning over Yukito. They had stripped him down to just his pants and white button up. The sleeves had been rolled up, revealing numerous bruises lining his arms. They were all fresh looking against his pale skin. The nurse replaced the cold cloth on his forehead, glancing over to Bunko with a smile.

"You're worried about him, aren't you..."

She grabbed another cold cloth, using it to clean the sweat off of Yukito's face and neck. He looked terrible, and was still unconscious. His breathing was heavy and labored, and his expression was pained.

"Thank you for coming to get me, Bunko. He's in rough shape. He's dealing with quite the cold and his body shows high levels of exhaustion. Tell me, has he been getting into a lot of fights lately that you know of? Causing trouble in class? I'm unsure of what could make him this sick"

This was one of the first times she had seen someone sick. She had been sick like this before but seeing another person in a sick state was new and she didn't like it. She wanted him to get better. It just had to be a cold or something, right?

Putting down his backpack and the bag she had made for him with the items on the table next to him, one of the seats were used while she took in the bruises. Looking at him, in this state.. It was different than in any state she had seen him before.

Hearing the nurse, her head snapped up from concentration on him. "I g-guess you could call it that," she mumbled quietly. "I don't really know him all that well.. I've only spoken to him once."

Brows knitted together as the purple haired girl looked to the nurse. "I-Is there anything I can do to help..?"

Gripping the hem of her skirt with anxious pulls, she shook her head. "I-In school.. I haven't heard of any fights lately.. I saw him on my way out the other day. He didn't have an umbrella," reaching into the paper bag she had tied together with a purple string, she pulled out the two umbrellas. "I-It's why I brought these.. They are small enough to fit in a school bag.. As for trouble in class.. Not anymore than usual."

Taking the bento out, she set it to the side with utensils. "I d-don't think h-he has eaten lunch and I made this an extra.. When he wakes up.. would you mind getting him to eat it..?" The more she spoke, the more worried her tone got.

Nurse Saiyuki smiled to Bunko, nodding her head.

"You're already helping, dear. Yukito doesn't have a lot of friends, and hasn't for some time. Even if you don't consider yourselves friends, I know he would appreciate it. He doesn't like to let people see any weakness in him"

The nurse wiped the sweat from his body again.

"This boy....never takes care of himself. Thank you for considering his needs, Bunko. Hattori-san doesn't often eat lunch. He likes to hide away in here so people can't bother him. No one sees him the way I do. He's really not a bad kid. He just needs to apply himself and let people see the real him"

A weak murmur interrupted.

"Sensei......don't...talk about me like that..."

Yukito was too tired to open his eyes. He had barely mustered the energy to speak when he had awoken to the sound of voices. The nurse smiled and shook her head.

"Bunko-chan here has been nice enough to bring you a lunch and an umbrella, since you keep neglecting yourself. Someone has to take care of you since you won't do it"
"It's...pointless..."
"I don't think so, Yukito. You'd be surprised how nice it can be"

He tried to sit up, but Nurse Saiyuki pushed him back down.

"You need to rest. Stay in here for a while. I've written out an excuse for the rest of your classes. Now. I need a number to call your father so that I can have him pick you up to bring you home"

Yukito shook his head.

"No"

The nurse gave him a look.

"What do you mean no?"
"You won't be able to call him"
"Why not?"

Yukito's eyes opened, and he sat up despite the Nurse telling him not to.

"Because he wouldn't care even if you could"

He lost consciousness again, his body falling back against the bed. Nurse Saiyuki frowned.

"He's said things like this before when he's been sick..."

She sighed and undid the first couple of buttons on his shirt, clearing away sweat again.

"He's in bad shape. I have to find a way to reach his father"

Looking at the bowl of water after his most recent wipe down, words flowed through her head as she listened. This situation didn't seem real to her. Maybe it was just because she didn't feel her classmate's glare directed at someone.

A weak chuckle as she thought how there were quite a few people that didn't like people seeing their weakness. It was adding more puzzle pieces filling in the blank frame she had hung in her museum of classmates. They all missed pieces because she didn't actually know any of them but this was at least a start for him.

Hearing her name, she chuckled weakly while shaking her head. The mess of dark purple hair hit her cheeks that were glowing red. "I-It really isn't anything.." Barely able to speak, she took the bowl with the cold water that was going room temperature and went to change it.

Trying to make it seem like she wasn't listening, she focused on taking ice out and adding it to the bucket before walking back just to see the nurse starting to unbutton his shirt.

With her face getting warmer by the minute, she set down the new bowl and stared at her knees. "I-If he d-doesn't want his father to know.. There has to be a reason why.. Saiyuki-sensei.. I.."

Pulling at the edge of her skirt, she gulped a bit while bowing her head. "I-If he d-doesn't feel safe going home.. L-Let me take care of him.. I a-already know the material for class.. Pl-Plus.. I would be sk-skipping classes today anyway.. I.. yelled at one of my classmates and I d-don't feel like dealing with her today.."

Taking the rag from his forehead, it had gone hot. Dipping it in the cold water, it was twisted to pull out the excess water before being rested against his forehead. "B-Besides.. H-He and I.. we.. are both outsiders in our class.. I ignore everyone through books and he stays off on his own.." Mumbling her words, she didn't even know what she was saying at this point but felt like they needed to be said regardless.

Nurse Saiyuki smiled to Bunko, nodding and handing her an extra rag.

"I could use and appreciate the help, Bunko-chan. Just keep an eye on his temperature, make sure to change the cold cloth on his forehead, and if he wakes up again, come tell me"

She got up from her seat, brushing off her coat and heading back over to her desk to get some work done. She had to find a way to contact Yukito's father so they could get him home. This had happened before, and she had yet to find a good way. Usually she was forced to just let him leave at the end of the day on his own. He wouldn't let anyone take him home. And the one time she'd tried to follow him, he'd disappeared from view in the streets. It concerned her greatly. With a sigh, she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Yukito, Yukito...what am I going to do with you...?"

Taking the rag in her hand, it just stayed there for a while. The texture of it being not as soft as she had expected but this was a school. She couldn't expect them to have top grade washcloths when she didn't even have any in her own home. She would rotate from taking taking the hot washcloth off his forehead, dunking it in the cold, ringing it out and replacing it with occasionally wiping down the sweat that had started accumulate in various locations.

The nurse had already unbuttoned his shirt so she could simply wipe the cold rag over it. Turning away, hand delicately gripped the back of her neck and squeezed. What was she doing here? They didn't know each other. The last time he talked to her, the words used weren't exactly kind on either end. Biting her lower lip, cheeks continued to darken every time she went back to wipe the sweat.

Not being able to take the embarrassment anymore, she excused herself from the Nurse's office to go to the restroom and wash her face with some cold water to keep it from coming back hopefully the next time she went to take care of him.