When Kip entered Edogawa High, he was one of the first freshmen to be popular. The girls particularly loved him for his introvertedness, artistic value, and his soft and dewy face, but everybody knew not to ask him out. One of the reasons was that he was only friends with girls at the time, and despite his sincere sympathy to anyone he came across, his reserved figure was nothing more to idolize to them. He naturally carried motherly traits because he constantly babysat his baby sister as a result of his parents never being home, so many of his friends related with his compassion and so-called ‘feminine’ side. This fawning caused the boys in his grade to bake with resentment.

Kijuro fell under that same category of popularity, but was not held to the same standard Kip was. He was extroverted, and was considered a great basketball player with his sportsmanship. The reason he hardly exchanged romantic encounters were for his eyes—and he used them knowingly. 

But someone could say their popularity really hadn’t spiked until the two reunited one day, after they had so long drifted apart in middle school. 

Whenever he skipped class or a fight was over, Kip always found him behind the school, laying down on the hillside that faced a stratus of transmission towers. He never joined him knowing he would likely be caught, but one day, Kijuro’s eyes enraptured him from the hallway window. His body was swallowed by the long grass that flowed in the harsh winds that afternoon, but his expression gave wanderlust that was never to be seen before. Kip, who always drew him in his mind, always considered his face to be serene. It reminded him of a waterfall with its foreboding blues and the evermoving highlights of the water. The one that ensnared him from afar was too complicated for him to draw. 

As he drew closer into the figure, the emotions he gathered from Kijuro tightened into something comprehensible. While his face wasn’t much readable, he thought that his skin tone replaced the sentiment he dissembled. His ivory skin glowed with the whisking storms in the sky, but not as much as it would have if the sun had come. 

Kip rested beside him and instead of talking, focused on what Kijuro’s gaze set upon. A nest of crows sat on the transmission tower shadowing over the school, their onyx hue opening up a hole into the sky. The family, or murder, croaked to each other and pecked and wagged the humidity off of their feathers. He wasn’t surprised that Kijuro always sat here when he had always been in tune to animals more than people.

“It’s not safe for you to be here right now,” Kijuro said after their leisurely silence.

The vagueness caused his brows to furrow. Was he worried about him skipping class? Was he concerned that it might rain? But instead of asking questions, he just listened.

“I screwed up.” His voice rang hollow, as if he was just wringing out the last words he could ever speak again. “I picked a fight with a gang.”

“How?”

“I beat the wrong person. Now they're never going to stop. It's too simple to anger someone in this school.”

Kip would disagree. Kijuro utilized his training in taekwondo and Krav Maga to fight other students, though he had never done it in any other school before. This school changed kids. Their culture was poor from outsiders like Kip, but those who thought differently were completely consumed. Everyone became angry or spiteful.

“What are you going to do now?”

“I don't know… I don't think I’m going to make it past senior year.”

Kip was a second breed of the school’s culture. He was rarer, someone who wasn't irritated easily, rather intrigued by dangerous situations. He had a curious, pure mind.

“Why don't you form a gang?”

His jaw flew down, closing when the grass pricked at his cheeks, and tilted his head to stare at Kip. He could only think about leaving the school, or perhaps the prefecture, and avoid getting his family involved in the matter. He didn’t think of involving himself with gang activity, and he certainly couldn’t believe Kip would suggest it. “Are you nuts?” he spat out without thinking.

“Or you have to explain to your parents.”

“I can’t ask people to join a gang, either.”

“I’ll join.”

Kijuro caught his laugh, pressing down his wrist on his forehead. He squinted at the blinding clouds, where the crows flew in a roundabout way, presumably locked onto some prey. “I can’t let you do that,” he uttered. “Your parents would get worried.”

“They think I’m already in one.” 

His tone fell cold, much like the unsettling chilly humidity phasing off the clouds. Kijuro was looking at him with arrogance, like most people did when he mentioned his parents. It wasn’t his fault, or anyone else’s. After all, they would expect a parent to be able to describe their child to someone accurately.

“You’re the last person I’d think of ever joining a gang. I can’t let you for your sake,” Kijuro told him.

“Let me.” Kip suddenly sat up and his eyes directly pierced Kijuro’s own threatening eyes.  “At least until you have enough people to support you.”

He was met with a face bitten in alarm. Then he shielded his eyes again, and gave a little sigh of defeat.

And so, the next couple of months after that were Kip’s trial run as Kijuro’s sideman. During basketball games, Kip prevented any harassments and aggression in the crowd. Very quickly, just by Kip catching a glass bottle hurled towards Kijuro during one of his games, he was marked as an enemy as well. He visited the gym with Kijuro to train him in useful tactics, first and foremost, before moving on to muscle building. 

By sophomore year, they had several allies under Kijuro’s name, deriving from his basketball team and his so-called ‘fans’. Kip’s friend group grew distant from him despite their admiration for him growing stronger. At that point, Kip heard them gossiping about him in the halls more than speaking to him.

“You missed the fight last week! Kip would’ve knocked one of them out if the teachers hadn’t come.”

“Whaaaat? There was more than one?” she squealed. “How is he the same Kip from last year?”

“I know right? I wonder if he’s still kind.”

The gossip piled up in his head. It never seemed like it affected him, but unknowingly, he was constantly repeating the comments to himself. Why would someone feel the need to question if he was still kind? He couldn’t ask those girls, otherwise they would get embarrassed that he overheard them.

But a small boy he had never seen before showed up in front of his face while he was itching at the questions. Actually, it was more like he showed up in front of his chest, crashed square into it, and fell backwards. Kip swooped down to the floor and reached out with a hand, but as alarming as his actions were, his voice remained rested.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”

The boy shook his head, and his fluffy and out-of-control curls flapped on top of his head. His eyes shot wide open and nearly instantaneously took his hand and inched forward. “Are you Junryu Kip?!”