I sit in my classroom, not even listening to what the teacher is saying. She has a habit of rambling on and on and never actually getting to the point. After a moment, she notices me and calls me out.
"What do you think you're doing, Ms. June?" She asks sharply, her green eyes piercing me.
"Looking out of the window, Professor." I reply monotonously.
"Detention!" She shouts, shocked at my disrespect, "And don't you ever dare address a teacher like that!"
I simply nod, staring her in the eyes, my black orbs scanning her up and down.
"Now, back to the lesson..." And she continues talking nonstop.
I look out of the window again, the sun shining dimly behind the clouds and the park under the window filled with students laughing, running around, and playing with each other.
Good thing I'm reserved and don't have any friends, nobody'll understand me anyways. I don't blame them; I do have some weird habits like my thing for sweets and coffee, insomnia, and all my clothes being black. I also sit cross legged at every chance I get, and my IQ is actually pretty high.
"Ms. June!" Oh, I guess I forgot about her being there.
"Yes?" I look at her.
"To the board, now!" So she wants to catch me off guard, hm?
I make my way to the board, and look at the math problem before me:
2y(50-3)+(2+3)(6-8)
I stare at it for approximately a minute before turning back to the teacher.
"95y-10"
She blinks once. Twice. Then looks at the board, and back at me.
"...Correct. Your detention is dismissed." She then comes back to her senses, "Now go sit!"
"Yes, Professor."
After a few boring minutes, the bell finally rings, signaling the end of the school day. I pack my stuff in my plain black backpack and fling it over my left shoulder, yawning. As I walk out of the school building, I see something black lying half-hidden behind a bush. I consider it for a moment before making my way towards it. It turns out to be a black notebook. I chuckle a bit, this reminds me of the first episode of Death Note. I pick the book up and read the title. My brow raises. In my hands is the identical copy of Light's death note; probably some merch someone accidentally dropped. I stuff it in my bag nevertheless, deciding that it may at least keep me entertained for an hour or so. I then walk away in the direction of my apartment; my parents died of a car crash when I was five, and I have been providing for myself ever since.
As I am halfway there, a voice echoes behind me.
