Scars || T. Oikawa Spin-off

15| Hanako's Boyfriend?

   "I don't understand. At least wear some form of color. Are you allergic to style?" Akira insinuates, twirling his pencil around in his hand. His worksheet's completely blank. 

   No, Mia. Remember, snapping people's necks is wrong. 

   Math has turned into my least favorite class for the sole reason that I have to sit next to Akira, of all people. Not a day goes by when he doesn't comment on my choice of clothing. And he never does the work on his own. He waits until the last five minutes of class to copy down my answers. I hope this man gets hit by a bus on the way to Banana Republic. 

   "Ugh, and you need to take my advice about hoodies in the summer. It's disgusting, almost unforgivable. You'd be so beautiful if you just put in some effort," he continues, brushing his fingers through his long ponytail. 

   The pencil I have in my hand snaps from how tightly I'm clenching onto it, "Would you shut up already? I don't care about how I look," I growl, glaring daggers into his skull, but he remains unfazed. 

   Fliping his massive amount of hair behind him, hitting me in the face with it, he says, "That's the incorrect mentality to have, sweetheart. You should care a great deal. Think of all the poor souls that have to look at you: Think of the children." 

   I growl like a dog that got its food bowl taken away, "I'm starting to think you're not actually stupid and are doing this on purpose," I snarl, filling in the final answer with a new pencil. 

   Akira smiles innocently, "My, whatever do you mean?" he inquires, clearly guilty. 

   I roll my eyes, shoving my packet in his chest, "Here, just shut up and copy this down," I bark, pulling my phone out of my pocket. 

   "Thank you, dear," he grins, writing down my answers on his paper. 

   Normally it bothers me when people copy my work all of the time, but in this case, I don't care. It's the only way to shut the moron up, so I'll make the necessary sacrifices for my sanity. 

   When class is dismissed, Akira hands me back my paper with a large smile, "It's been a pleasure," he states, walking out the door and into the hallway. 

   I watch him with careful eyes as I collect my things and sling my bag over my shoulder. Walking over to the teacher, I hand her my packet. Her eyes linger on me for a bit too long before walking back to her desk. 

   As far as she goes, I know she's suspicious of me. Maybe it's the whole hoodies in the summer thing, or maybe she sees commonalities in my and Akira's work. Either way, she has her eye on me. 

   And then there's Akira. Everything about him screams fake. The only time I've seen his real smile is when he was talking about Ayame. Overall, he's the person in the dorm hall I know least. There's just this mysterious vibe about him that I can't get over. Like he plays stupid but knows everything about everyone. It's unsettling. 

   I have a half-hour before my next class starts, so I decide to roam the school. There's not much a person can do with 30 minutes. 

   As I'm walking, the people in the halls start flooding into different rooms. I notice a green-haired boy peeking his head around the corner to another hallway. 

   I walk up behind him, "What are you doing, Haru?" I ask in a tired tone.

   He jumps in surprise, shooting his head in my direction, "Mia!?" he whispers harshly, green orbs full of surprise. He takes a deep breath, moving out of the way and motioning for me to look. 

   I raise an eyebrow, peering down the hallway. My eyes land on a tall, muscular man with short, blonde hair and baby blue eyes, almost grey. He's talking to Hanako, standing a bit too close to her. She laughs at something he says, her cheeks turning a shade of red as he holds onto a strand of her long, brown hair.