Four weeks in, I’d made friends with him. Striking the occasional conversation, he sat next to me in class. He seemed to enjoy listening to music and making up little songs. He kept a journal, and wrote in it often, everyday in fact. Maybe even a few times a day, okay, a few times a period. He would write in it whenever there was an altercation with the boys in the back, which was often. He wrote about them a lot.

He seemed to be off in his own world most of the time, daydreaming almost. I wonder if he wants to become a writer, or a storyteller, or maybe a musician, or a singer. Some of the feelings he writes down are almost poetic, maybe he writes lyrics too? He would be good at it.

But more often than not, he seemed to be writing down certain events like being called on unexpectedly or knowing something without raising his hand, and how those things made him feel. It was kinda cute. I’d try to read them as he wrote them down sometimes, but he’d caught me a couple times and judging by his reaction he was a little less than fond of that.

It was lunch, and I passed Yasumori on my way out of the classroom. I smiled at him but he didn’t meet my eyes, he ignored me all together actually. He was holding a few large take-out bags from the chinese place next to the school, too many for just him to eat, and by the few conversations i’d had with him, I knew he didn’t like chinese food. He stared down at the bags anxiously, guardingly, as if they had some superficial value. I decided to watch from the doorway.

Yasumori passed our desk, and headed over to the group of popular guys in the back of the room. Damn, them again, Of course they sent him to buy them their food. I continued watching. I felt like I couldn’t let Yasumori out of my sight, what if they made fun of him again?

The guys all giggled to themselves as Yasumori began nearing their desk, and as he got there, he fell, a piece of food falling out of its container. He looked to it in horror, grabbing it as fast as he could and swiping it back into their bag as the popular guys burst out laughing. Putting two and two together, it seemed the outstretched leg and foot from the guy in front may have been the culprit. Isn’t that assault? Yasumori stood up and put the food on their desk as if nothing had transpired. His eyes beginning to tear up, while he was noticeably trying to repress it.

“This piece fell on the floor, didn’t it?” the leader questioned his posy.

“Yeah, I think it did” another one said, the rest nodding in agreement.

“And after you went through all the trouble of buying it, what a shame.” he said, his tone sending me into a bitter rage

“Ah, no… It’s fine.. I-it was o-only for a second.” Yasumori coughed up.

“What?” he said suddenly, Yasumori flinching. “Did you just talk back to me?”

“S-sorry “ Yasumori mumbled. ‘I-I didn’t m-mean-”

“If it’s really ok to eat, why don’t you take a bite? I mean, It's too bad you dropped it in the first place, it would be a shame if that food just want to waste” he said, a cruel sadistic grin spread across his face.

And just like that, he listened. Yasumori picked up the rice ball and hesitantly put it in his mouth, chewing it, and swallowing it. It seemed he couldn’t hide the tears much longer.

“What's wrong? Take another bite.” he demanded.

“B-but it tastes like dust”

“Really?” he said.

The leader grabbed the food from Yasumori, and tried to force him to eat it, and Yasumori just stood there as the leader smeared it all over his face. He was shaking, shaking hard. He was mortified, but on his face was plastered the same strained smile. For a moment my emotions ran wild, rage at the hostility of the group of guys and sympathy for Yasumori, but more than that. I wanted to help Yasumori, understand him more, hold him. I wanted to punch that guy, kick him, hurt him as bad as he was hurting Yasumori. I guess my feelings overwhelmed me, and I couldn’t just sit and watch this happen anymore. I stood from the corner and locked my eyes on the group.

“Hey!” I yelled. “Why do you guys fuck with him like that?!” I shouted, walking over to confront them.

“Why are you so mad? We’re just playing a little, right Yasumori?”

“Ah, yeah...” he replied, dodging my eye contact and forcing out a small laugh.

I knew now that my feelings were more than friendly.

“Look at me.”

He looked up, and I stared him in the eyes. Never before had I seen a person fight tears harder than he fought. I touched his hand and gestured for him to follow me. Throwing a few obscenities at the group of guys as we walked away, out of the room, and toward the storage closet down the hall.

“You can't just listen to whatever they say!” I said.

“Um... Takemi”

“Yeah?” I turned my head to look at him, continuing down the hall.

“T-thanks for always getting me out of that… but… I-I’m alright now so...” Why was it that he’d just let this continue? Why couldn’t he stand up for himself? I turned around to face him and he stopped, I held his hands in mine.

“Are you ok with it?”

“Bu-but I’ve had it worse, s-so I’ll get over it.”

My heart beat fast and my mind ran, he’d been threw so much before. I tried to look at him, but he looked down, again avoiding eye contact. Just because you’ve had it worse before, doesn’t mean you have to handle something like this, does he not understand that?

The group of guys walked out of the classroom and I pulled Yasumori into the storage closet.

“H-have you eaten lunch yet? Because I can g-go and buy you some.”

Is he afraid of me too? I looked down at him, now making eye contact.

His beautiful, baby blue eyes always seemed to light a match in mt chest.

“I don't need it” I reassured him in a calm, low voice.

“Everyone needs to eat-”

“I don't need it Yasumori.” he was trying to dodge the conversation “You need to stand up for yourself.”

“E-Even if you tell me that… I-It’s hard y’know.” he said, defeated.

I almost felt bad for pestering him like that. I sighed and touched his hand again.

“I know it's hard, but if you ever feel trapped you know you can come to me, or give me a look to let me know” I tried to explain, hoping he’d be able to understand.

“B-but why are you so nice to me?”

“Because you try so hard. You’re different but you’re scared to be you, and there's just something about you that I want to protect.”

My heart flutters as his face lightens. I step back, blushing slightly.

To my surprise, Yasumori begins to tear up, but this time the smile on his face wasn’t strained, it was big and unique, and made my heart beat faster. He walked forward and hugged me. He was so gentle, fragile, I hugged him back. He was adorable, adorable in a way that made me want to squeeze him harder. He broke away grabbed the tie of my school uniform, looking up at me with his real, big, adorable, goofy smile.

“D-does this mean you’ll do what I say?”