The science lab smelled like old rubber and cleaning supplies. Leon perched on his high stool, watching Yosuke across the room stare blankly at the beakers in front of him like they were alien artifacts.

"Can you not?" Mia Chen wheezed next to him, waving her hand in front of her face. "You smell like an ashtray and I actually need my inhaler to work today."

Leon glanced sideways at his lab partner. Even in the regulation teal blazer, Mia looked like she'd rather be at a funeral. Her straight black hair was chopped into this severe bob, thick-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, and some weird homemade anime boy pin stuck to her lapel—definitely not school-approved. She had this way of talking without moving her face much, like expressing emotion was against her personal religion.

"Sorry," Leon muttered, but couldn't stop watching Yosuke pick up a test tube with the careful precision of someone handling explosives.

"Mr. Harris," Mia's hand shot up with robotic efficiency. "I need a new lab partner. Leon's going to trigger an asthma attack."

"I can switch—" Leon started, already half-rising.

"Mia, you can work with the new student. He looks like he could use some help," Harris said. "Leon, pair up with Adrian."

Perfect. Just perfect.

Adrian slid onto Mia’s stool like he’d already been sitting there all semester.

“Dude,” he said, glancing at the instructions once. “This lab’s bullshit. Harris never checks measurements anyway.”

Leon frowned at the page. “We’re supposed to add the acid slowly.”

Adrian snorted. “Relax. Watch.”

He poured.

The mixture bloomed brown—wrong. Acrid.

Leon stared. “That’s not—”

“It’s fine,” Adrian said easily. “C’s still passing.”

Leon swallowed. Across the room, Yosuke measured each drop with steady hands while Mia watched, arms folded. No rush. No jokes.

Adrian leaned in. “You still trying this whole redemption arc thing?”

“I’m trying to pass,” Leon muttered.

“Why?” Adrian shrugged. “My brother flunked chem twice and he’s doing fine. Community college. Parties every weekend.”

Harris appeared beside them, already writing.

“At this rate, you’ll be repeating junior year,” he said, tearing off the slip.

Adrian barely reacted. “Told you he checks.”

Leon felt the words hit harder than they should’ve. He stuffed the slip into his pocket, jaw tight.

Adrian clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, man. Some people just aren’t built for school.”

Leon didn’t answer.

Across the lab, Yosuke looked up, uncertain, like he was trying to understand a rule everyone else already knew.

After that fiasco, Leon’s fingers twitched for a smoke, the urge almost overwhelming until he spotted Erik waiting by the drinking fountain, all crisp uniform and concerned eyebrows.

"Student council emergency," Erik said, adjusting his tie. "Someone vandalized the homecoming banner with Che Guevara quotes."

"Radical," Leon muttered, not meeting his eyes. The failed chemistry experiment still stung.

"Look, just..." Erik glanced down the hall where Yosuke stood studying bulletin board flyers like they held the secrets of the universe. "Keep an eye on space cadet? Make sure he doesn't wander into traffic or accidentally join a cult or something."

"What am I, his babysitter?"

"According to Joskey, you're his friend." Erik's voice went soft—the kind of soft that made Leon feel about two inches tall. Then, quieter: "Karin's been asking about you."

"Yeah, yeah. I got him. Go save homecoming from the communists."

Erik's footsteps echoed away. Leon watched Yosuke tilt his head at the faded D.A.R.E. poster. His thick glasses had slipped down his nose again, sitting heavy on the narrow bridge like they weighed too much for his face.

"It's just a poster, man," Leon said.

"It's incomplete." Yosuke pushed his glasses back up. “Just say no?” He frowned. “Just say no to drugs. That's what it should be, right?"

"Dude, everyone knows drugs are bad for your body and shit. Don't need to spell it out.”

Thunder rumbled outside. Dark clouds rolling in fast.

"Like cigarettes?" Something knowing in Yosuke's sidelong glance that made Leon's face heat up.

Leon's hand stopped halfway to his jacket pocket. "Those are... technically legal."

"That's why Mia wouldn't work with you?" Those blue eyes—behind the glasses now, slightly muted but still impossible—fixed on him completely. "Because you smell like illegal-but-technically-legal drugs?"

"Something like that." Leon leaned against the lockers. "You're pretty good at chemistry for someone who just learned what atoms are."

"Mia explains things well." Yosuke touched the poster gently, glasses sliding another notch. "She doesn't assume I already know things. Unlike the books."

"Yeah?" Leon's throat went dry. "Maybe we could... I mean, if you wanted—"

"Study together?" Yosuke pushed his glasses back up with one finger, looked up at him. "I'd like that. But only if you say no." The corner of his mouth twitched.

Holy shit. Was that a joke?

Leon laughed—real this time, the tightness bleeding out of his chest. "Yeah, okay. Just Say No to cigarettes. Totally doable."

"Good." Yosuke smiled that rare real smile.

Thunder cracked, loud enough to rattle glass. Fat raindrops started hitting the windows.

"Daily Grind," Leon said, already moving. "They make hot chocolate that's way better than Swiss Miss."

"Better than Swiss?" Yosuke's eyes went wide behind his glasses.

"Way better. C'mon, space cadet. Before we drown."

"I really like Swiss though," Yosuke said, already following.

─────── · 𓅪 · ─────── 

The storm caught them halfway across the parking lot.

"My notes!" Yosuke yelped, clutching his folder against his chest like it held state secrets. His glasses fogged up instantly.

They crashed through The Daily Grind's door as lightning split the sky, both dripping, both out of breath. The place smelled like vanilla and warmth. Leon grabbed a corner booth while Yosuke wiped his glasses dry with the bottom of his sweater, then arranged everything on the table, Erik style—spoon parallel to napkin, cup exactly centered on its coaster.

"Maybe I could study you instead?" Yosuke said once the hot chocolates arrived, chin resting on his hand. All innocent curiosity. "Learn how to be a real teenager?"

Leon stared at him. Here was this kid who'd basically been born yesterday, asking Leon—Leon, who couldn't pass basic chemistry—to teach him how to be normal. He slouched, run hair through his fingers.

"Yeah, like, try someone actually smart for starters. This school don't need another wash-up homeboy."

"You're not washed-up, Leon." Yosuke's voice went fierce—sudden, unexpected, like a small animal baring its teeth. "Just... special."

Special. Nobody had ever called him that. Not like it was a good thing.

Leon slouched deeper in the booth, twisting his leather bracelet. His eyes drifted to Yosuke's hands as they nudged the mug another millimeter into alignment.

"Dude, you need to cut those." He nodded at Yosuke's fingers. "Your nails. Only chicks have them that long. Well, and goth kids like Tristan. Makes you look— weird or something.”

"Ah yes, the goths." Yosuke nodded with that funny serious expression, completely missing Leon's discomfort. "I've been cataloging the different groups. There are the jocks—the tall guys on basketball. The cheerleaders who cheer for them but secretly just want to dance and show off their butts, according to Mia." His fingers traced the rim of his mug. "Then people like Calvin who spend all their free time on games about dungeon exploration. I've labeled them 'the geologists.'"

Leon nearly choked. "Geologists?"

"They're always talking about underground levels and mining for resources," Yosuke explained, completely serious. "Very rock-focused. But I haven't figured out under which label I should place us."

"Us?"

"The trio. I mean." Yosuke added hastily.

Leon ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah well, join the freaking club." When he glanced back, Yosuke's glasses had slid down again, and those blue eyes were studying him like he was some fascinating puzzle.

Leon's eyes traced the three small moles on Yosuke's left cheek - perfect triangle, like someone had drawn constellation points on his pale skin. God, he was so freaking strange.

"You and Erik are very hard to place, like me. But then again, maybe that is a bad thing…” Yosuke tried to laugh, but it didn't sound right. "Erik tries to help, but it feels like no matter what I do, I’m breaking some rule: 'Don't stand so close to people.' 'Stop staring.' 'That's not how you hold a fork.' I have seventeen pages of Erik's rules in my notebook."

"Seventeen pages?" Leon barked out a laugh, running his hand through his hair. "Dude, that's like, a whole manual. Sorry about Erik, can be real intense at times.“

"He's being fastidious.” Yosuke corrected, pulled his hands back suddenly, rubbing his wrists. His fingers caught the edge of something metallic under his school shirt - some kind of polished chain that he kept tugging at. "I've been scratching myself a lot lately in the sleep. Perhaps you're right about the nails."

"Why are you scratching yourself?"

"I don't know. I just... wake up and my back itches terribly. Like tiny hairs trying to get out." 

”Gross dude!” Leon laughed. “But that’s normal, though. Hair growth and puberty and all that shit.”

“Yeah,” Yosuke sighed solemnly, shrugged, then tugged at that metallic chain again. 

“So, no new memories?” Leon tried, swallowed hard, hands clammy over the cheap paper table cloth, thinking about the stuff Liam said. Baby Yoyo rocking back and forth. Not sure Yosuke was ready to hear about that depressing shit yet.

“No memories.” Yosuke sighed again, wistfully. “Maybe I should cut my hair, like on my ID. Maybe that could help me remember something. Anything.“

He dug into his stuffed school pants pocket—pens, notes, keys, money all crammed in together—and pulled out his student ID. "Here."

Leon took it.

The photo showed a younger Yosuke. Same face, same dark hair but cut way shorter. Well shaped ears exposed, corny-looking bangs. The eyes were different. Knowing. Not erased. Something hard in them—anger, pain. A look that reminded Leon uncomfortably of Liam.

His stomach dropped.

He handed the ID back. Forced a smile. "Nah. Your hair's cool. The whole mysterious new guy thing." He twisted his bracelet. “Totally grunge. Suits you."

"Mysterious," Yosuke repeated, testing the word. Then he ducked his head and lifted his hot chocolate. His eyes went wide at the first sip—genuinely wide, like the sweetness was something worth cataloging.

"This is so much better than Swiss chocolate!" He turned toward the counter. "Miss? This is really good!"

The server glanced up from her magazine. Gave Yosuke that look—the one people gave him when they couldn't figure out if he was serious. Then went back to reading.

Yosuke's face fell. Just a fraction. Just enough.

Leon watched it happen and felt that twist in his chest—the one that felt like wanting to punch something. Or maybe wrap this weird kid up so tight the world couldn't get to him anymore.