The Transfer Student (Aoba Johsai x Reader)

One: The First Day

One by one, I begin the draining process of untangling my unruly curls, each strand fearlessly resisting me. Finally, the strands agree to cooperate with me, and I grab my hair gel. Quickly, I begin the grueling process of braiding the frustrating curls, humming SZA's "Good Days" as the hair fights with me. Naturally, these resistant curls attempt to escape my grasp, but I use an elastic to secure their fate to my scalp.

"Why is cornrowing hair so frustrating?"

I curse aloud, moving onto the next set of stubborn hairs. To force the strands into cooperation, I slather more gel onto the thick strands, running my fingers through the annoying ends. As I braid the stubborn locks, I start to wonder what my first day at a new school will bring.

+++++++++++++++++++++

"Why the hell do I have to wear an uniform? Especially this ugly plaid one?"

I complain to my step-brother, examining the disgusting khaki shirt in the mirror.

"The only decent thing about this outfit is the vest."

I continue, causing Makki to laugh as I slide on the stupid knee high socks that came with my dreaded outfit.

"You're being dramatic, idiot. You look like every other basic bitch at school."

He refutes, causing me to dramatically sigh and shake my head.

"That's the problem, silly. Also, at least I'm unique, unlike you."

I joke, the boy glaring at me before coming up with another insult. The two of us continue to argue until we hear his mother yell, and I flip him off.

"Takahiro, it's your fault, you had to make her yell."

I snap, the boy simply rolling his eyes instead of responding.

"Whatever, she would've gotten mad if we weren't talking. Are you still thinking of coming to my volleyball practice after school?"

The boy asks me and I nod, slinging my bag over my shoulder. The two of us exit our small house, ready to conquer yet another terrifying year of school.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

People in the hallway stare at me as I walk to my locker, Makki by my side.

"Geez, have they never seen a black person before?"

I joke, Makki not appreciating my dry humor this early in the morning.

"Our school isn't exactly known for being diverse. You're probably the only non-Asian person in the grade, maybe even the school."

He points out, handing me my book bag as I open my locker. While I put my bags away, Makki's friends swarm me, and I glance at my older brother.

"These the volleyball boys? They're a little short."

My words cause the boys to immediately get offended, and I laugh at their various expressions of shock.

"Shorty, I don't think you can comment on other people's heights.

A boy with nearly black hair says to me, his grin almost identical to my brother's signature smirk.