Content warning:

Mature due to mentions of suicide, mental/physical abuse, bullying, cursing.  Some light skinship, but no nudity or smut.

---

Useless.

Worthless.

Rice was wasted on you.

These words had haunted Jinan for the last six months. 

His eyes trailed down to his left wrist, gaze tracing the scars that had been the cause of those words. Of course, he had foolishly cut himself in horizontal strokes instead of along the vein...too much of a coward to do it properly. The scars were quite obvious against his pale skin, and he squirmed wishing that he didn’t have to wear short sleeves as part of his school uniform.

All I wanted was for someone to look at me...and tell me I’d be alright.

Sweaty hands. 

Difficult breathing. 

Heart pounding.

His fingers twitched, reflexively crumpling the edges of the test paper he was holding as he looked at the mark. Math gave him anxiety and tests were even worse. He looked again: B+...it shouldn’t have been a bad mark by most standards and it’s not that he hadn’t tried or hadn’t studied. It was simply that his father would hate it.

What kind of Chinese kid is bad at math...? he thought bitterly.

Even though he was in the last half of his senior year of high school, he still remembered what it was like to be locked in the basement as a seven-year-old. He recalled sitting for hours in the cold, darkened little room...trembling with fear when his father came down the stairs. He was always hoping that this time...this time, the equations would be correct and that his father would stop cursing him for being too stupid to live...hoping that he wouldn’t hit him.

“They’re still wrong! Do them again! Useless! You’ll stay here until they’re done, you hear?”

Jinan swallowed the echoes in his head, letting the dull heaviness in his body sink down, down, as he pushed his feelings into the pit.

“Hey, rat!”

Sneakers stomped up to his desk, jerking his awareness back to the classroom.

Were they dirty sneakers this time or the expensive ones? Afraid to look, his heart sped up and gooseflesh rose over his bare arms. Painfully self-conscious, he turned his wrists so that they were flat against the desk.

“Julian...” a voice smirked above his bowed head. “Hey you dirty shitbag! Aren’t you going to answer?”

Murmuring voices rose all around him.

He resisted the urge to touch his glasses as that would only draw attention to them and took a breath, trying to ignore the hum, wishing that his overgrown hair covered more of his face.

The bell rang.

“Hey shitbag, I’m talking to you!” the voice growled, hot breath spraying on his cheek.

The shoes kicked the legs of his chair and desk.

Jinan flinched, hunching his shoulders.

Dirty sneakers.

“Colin, quit that kind of thing. Let’s go...” said a smooth, cold voice with an edge of warning.

The whispers increased.

“It’s Lucas...” said a female voice, filled with awe and adoration.

Jinan felt a relief that was spiked with loathing and rage all at the same time.

He lifted his head to see that Colin was still smirking at him, and instantly looked back at the ground.

“I’ll get you later, rat,” Colin grinned, hands in his pockets, surrounded by two others with the same look of gloating contempt.

Standing apart from them, the one who had spoken up, was Lucas Ha. Half-Korean and born into a wealthy family, his height, stunning good looks, and athleticism had taken the school by storm. Like Jinan, he was also in his senior year, taking the last half of the semester to graduate from an international high school in Canada before entering university in his hometown of Kagami.

Jinan should have been grateful for the intervention, but the hazel eyes that gazed on him were emotionless, dismissing any notion that it might have been done from kindness. The tawny gaze slowly switched to Colin.

“Don’t ever bully people around me or you’ll regret it.”

The other boy blanched, smirk dropping from his face. Surprised, he tried to brush it off:

“Hey Lucas...it’s not like I was calling you that...and like...you’re not like him, so why should you be offended, right...?” he stuttered, looking nervous.

“Colin. Don’t be stupid. Bullies are disgusting,” said Lucas, who then turned and walked away.

Flushing, Colin pointed his finger at Jinan.

“We’ll settle this later, you and me...” he hissed, and then turned hurriedly to follow.

---

It’s quiet. Finally.

The murmurs were always exhausting.

Jinan drooped under a set of stairs located next to the gymnasium’s double doors, tucked into the shadows there. Squatting to avoid the dirt that the custodian had swept there, he balanced his lunch box over the top of his skinny knees and picked at the wilted greens left over from last night’s dinner. 

Bak choi, rice...ginger steamed chicken, bone in. Thank God it’s not fish...he thought, moving his chopsticks around.

He sighed and took a bite, grateful that there was a tiny bit of warmth left in the rice. 

Useless.

Worthless.

Rice was wasted on you...

He paused mid-chew and then stopped, chopsticks suspended between his mouth and the lunchbox. He slowly set the chopsticks down and desperately willed himself to swallow the lump that clogged his throat, forcing back the tears that abruptly blurred his eyes.

A rustle made him freeze and then shrink deeper into the dark as a pair of shoes neared his hiding place. He held his breath, afraid that even that would betray his presence.

Expensive sneakers.

Since the start of the semester, these sneakers had appeared quite frequently. Skirting around his hiding places in the nooks and crannies of the old high school, they had chased him obsessively, but their owner had never pressed Jinan to reveal himself. Always keeping just enough distance...just out of sight, just out of reach... as if there was an understanding...a courtesy to this game of cat and mouse.

The sneakers had played like this for half a year now and Jinan was tired of it.

He waited for the shoes to leave as they always did, but today they took three steps and reluctantly circled back.

Surprised, he scooted further in, trying to squeeze himself as close to the brick wall as he could, but he was clumsy. One of the chopsticks clattered to the floor. 

He gasped at the sound it made on the linoleum. Along with his shocked breathing, the staccato sound trapped him, telling the owner of the sneakers that he was there.

“Come out,” said a smooth voice that he recognized as Lucas Ha’s.

Why is it him?!

He felt an unreasonable spurt of rage then. All this time, the shoes had belonged to the boy who had everything. Something inside Jinan snapped, and the lunch box tipped sideways, hitting the floor with a crash as he barrelled out of the dark.

“Eat this!” Jinan shrieked, feeling like a dam had been breached. Emotions exploded out of him as he punched his fist toward the other boy, blinded by tears and rage. Unfortunately, Lucas was much taller and stronger...easily catching his wrist, holding it up as he used his other hand to block Jinan’s shoulder. 

“Hey, wait!”

Jinan screeched some choice expletives, flailing.

“Julian, stop it!” Lucas shouted, struggling with him, backing them into the dark under the stairs. 

Trying not to hurt the smaller boy, Lucas wrestled with him, but finally gave up, grabbing the slender wrists, wrenching them above his head.

Jinan aimed a kick at his shin, but Lucas blocked it easily, pushing his upper thigh between the other boy’s legs, causing him to gasp frantically, and then whimper in fright as Lucas backed him tight against the wall, cutting off his movements.

Jinan looked like a cornered animal. Panting. Dark eyes huge.