what i could've done | mashikyu

005

The only word Junkyu could use to describe his next few days was: brutal.

Haruto's first comment that day sparked the beginning of a vicious cycle of snarky comments from him and his friends. It was easy for Junkyu to think about taking the advice of his friends. "Kyu, ignore them." "They only keep going because you react how they want you to." "Want to fight him? I'll help!" Some advice was more... extreme than others, but nonetheless, actually trying to put it into action was near impossible.

Junkyu's replies were getting weaker and weaker each time another comment landed on him, and it was clear to Haruto that he was breaking him down. Every time they saw each other, Haruto's cockiness grew. He knew he was winning.

In all honesty, Junkyu was just tired. He could care less about being made fun of for the video. He was tired of being on high alert, tired of caring. Mostly, he was tired of the pounding in his head. It was arguably the worst side effect of everything going on; more than the unwanted attention, more than the permanent record of him on the internet.

Junkyu had been resting his head down on his desk, hoping to fall into a deep sleep and have his teacher ignore him. Instead, he is greeting with the scrape of the chair in front of him being pulled out.

Haruto, of course. Always perfectly on cue in the worst way.

"Can we take a break for today?" Junkyu grumbles, "I really just want to sleep.." This he mumbles into his arm, not even bothering to look up at the boy.

All he's met with is silence. 10, 20, 30 seconds pass. Eventually 1 whole minute. Nothing. That only makes Junkyu more on edge. What was he doing? Taking pictures of him? Some other cliche bully thing? As he thought more about it his heart rate spiked. Fuck, he thought. How do I get out of this one?

He jolts up, almost gasping for air. It takes his eyes a few moments to adjust, and he blinks, trying to make the picture in front of him more clearly.

Mashiho.

It was Mashiho in front of him. That explained the silence. Junkyu furrows his brow, trying his best not to look too startled. He succeeds somewhat, opting for a more accusatory look. Mashiho, however, is impossible to read. He stares back at Junkyu with a blank stare. It was impossible to tell how he was feeling.

The face-off feels like it lasts hours. Eye contact held, but no words were exchanged.

Mashiho is the first to fold. "Kyu-" he starts, but stops short.

Junkyu's expression turns cold. Why did I think it would go differently? he thinks. 'Kyu' had become a name he despised. The way it rolled off Haruto's tongue disgusted him.

For a short second, Mashiho's emotion shows. It's... apologetic? regretful? It was hard to pinpoint exactly what because as quickly as it showed, it disappeared.

Junkyu doesn't see it. He was leaving. He couldn't take it anymore. Everyone, including the professor, just watches as he walks out the classroom door, not bothering to stop him. They all know, subconsciously, they should let him be. Everyone knew what was happening, but no one had the balls to step in.

–

Junkyu doesn't breathe until he steps into the door of his house. He falls to the floor, desperately trying to get air into his lungs. Everything is on fire. His body, his mind, maybe even the floor. He hadn't stopped running since he left his classroom. He couldn't stop, and nothing could've stopped him. Not the phone calls, not the school staff, not the pain. Nothing.

He finally broke, no one knew he did. The endless stress, always being on high alert. Junkyu thought if he had just ignored it he'd be fine, and he really believed he was. Something about today set him off.