The first time I noticed him, it was only two weeks into school. He was caged around a group of well-known guys and he seemed off-put. He wasn’t surrounded by friends, that was clear. His face was red, his hair unkempt, playing with his ear as he seemed overwhelmed.

“Wait... You’re seriously in the same grade as us?”

“I thought a freshmen got lost and ended up here!”

I guess he was short, slender, and gave off a certain “shy” vibe. I guess they saw him as an easy target.

“Are you deaf or something? Why are you so quiet?”

“Uhm, no, I-I’m listening.” he forced out anxiously with a strained smile, tucking a small strand of hair behind his ear. You can tell a lot of things from someone's true smile, but you can also read a lot from a fake one.

“He can talk!”

I’m not gonna lie, it almost hurt to see him try so hard to smile. He was obviously uncomfortable, but it felt like he needed to conform to them. The only message the other guys got was that he was desperate for a way out, and giving that reaction basically guaranteed he’d become a future target. I couldn’t let myself interject, those guys were higher on the school food chain then me, and I knew I’d basically be committing social suicide if I attempted to break it up. But something about his face, his strained smile, made me not want to care, and something about the way he anxiously played with his ear while thinking of things to respond with, made me yearn to help. I think that's when I first started liking him.

“What's your name kid.”

“Y-Yasumori.”

Yasumori. The moment I learned his name, I knew I’d never forget it.