25-3

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It was on a chilly day that he looked out from the window sill during recess.

Bored at his own desk, the teacher's voice went in one ear, out the other. Outside was very lively and loud, attracting his attention. Normally he wouldn't care, normally, he would take a glance before going back to sleep possibly or doodling in his notebook.

If there was one thing that attracted his attention, it was a certain boy in the middle, the centre of attention, soaked in sweat in his basketball uniform with a grinning face showered in the sun's warmth.

He thought at that moment, 'I didn't know the world was split in two.'

There was a cold, monotonous life.

There was a warm, vibrant life.

If their canvas was full of warm tones, then his canvas was full of cold tones.

What a sad canvas to look at, he thought.

Class ended and lunch started. He left the classroom while yawning and met up with his girlfriend, who had texted him right after class. With nothing better to do, he agreed and ruffled his black hair along the way. They met behind the school, him yawning ever so tiredly and said, " Why did you wanna meet up all of a sudden?"

There was slight indifference in his tone along with an apathy the girlfriend couldn't ignore. She gritted her teeth and said, " Don't you have something else you should be saying to me?"

Confused yet too lazy to guess, he asked, "What should I be saying to you?"

Her body shook and she trembled fiercely with her head looking down. Suddenly, she clenched her fist and relaxed it, firmness building up, she walked up and slapped him across the face. Stunned, he touched his own but was more surprised to see tears rolling down her cheek.

"You're too cold. Sometimes I feel like we're further apart from each other than when we were just friends. We don't even feel like a couple. I'm breaking up with you."

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Ryan wearily woke. He wanted to touch his face, feeling a faint throb across his cheek but moans instead at the blatent sting coarsing through his limbs, stretching into his organs as well.

'What happened to me...? Why... Why am I in so much pain?'

"Ngh-" Ryan breathed breathlessly and sat up with trembling fingers.

This felt strangely familiar. Ah yes... It reminded him of the first day he ever arrived at this stupid world. How long has it been since then? Three years? No, four? Or five? He counted up the years and settled on five years.

Right, where was he? Looking around, the furniture was from the Inn. He was inside the Inn but how come he doesn't remember this?

"Wai-T cough cough." Blood slipped from his lips once again as he felt the urge to throw up.

A bolt of light passed through and multiple scenes flashed through his mind. 'That's right.... Yesterday I... I met the protagonist and had a fight with him!'

The memories became clearer and clearer as he concentrated on the details. Then he finally understood why he was in so much pain.

The protagonist fucking beat him up!

He quickly took off his uniform, revealing his white shirt underneath with blood stains. God knows how much pain was going through his body right now, Ryan wanted to cry so bad. He hadn't suffered so badly in so long, a tear almost fell out his eyes.

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