"If I die, so be it."
∆ Disclamers ∆
- SPOILERS
- GORE (Minors out of here)
- FAULTS (I'm rewriting all chapters)
I don't own One Piece's characteres but I own all of your earthien friends along with Panom, Godji, Kanda and Benkei : the rights are m...
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December 18th
Soft chatter resounded through the empty classroom, the light above the students' heads flickering. They didn't seem bothered; instead, they acted casual. No one was shocked by it. The room kept its own warmth and coziness, desks and boards surrounding them both.
A scary world. That was what most people said about Earth, about the reality they lived in. As for me, all I could do was endure my boring, endless days, over and over again. That was how I ended up forcing myself to repeat the same routine with the same people, and most of all, the same fuckers I had to put up with...
The adze twirled between your fingers before slipping from your grip and tumbling loudly onto the floor. The sharp sound was followed by a heavy silence. You bent down absentmindedly to retrieve the poor tool before setting it back on the wooden desk. What happened to it didn't matter, you were too busy to focus your thoughts.
The classroom was filled with the scent of paint and strange chemicals. Desks were scattered across the room in a chaotic display of paintings and sculptures left behind. Through the windows, the sun had just begun to set, casting pink and orange light that reflected off the worn wooden floor.
In short, I had an assignment that required mixing a portrait and a sculpture. And because of the circumstances, I still hadn't started it. All of that because we had visitors, students from the economics department, who had come to tear our work apart.
And you didn't take it very well, considering you nearly tried to make them eat the ground. What truly made you lose it was the fact that your teacher didn't do anything about it. After all, he was behind this "inconvenience," using the lousy excuse of practicing with criticism.
Which you failed at, greatly and surprisingly so, considering how hard it usually was to get a reaction out of you. A win for the teacher, really, to see that you could show at least some response. Even if it was just glaring daggers without blinking for hours.
You only had a few hours left to finish your work before the deadline, just a handful of short hours. As a frown formed on your face, you picked up a washer and began to juggle it absentmindedly, lost in thought. You missed the frowns from the person beside you, who had been talking for a while now.
Fortunately, one of my classmates had agreed to lend me a hand, with the unspoken deal that I would listen to his boring stories...
"Y/N."
Hearing your name pulled you out of your contemplation, and you were met with the harsh gaze of your friend. His piercing blue eyes stared at you, sending a faint chill down your spine. You tilted your head slightly, letting out a soft hum. After a moment of silence and mutual staring, you scratched your chin with the washer, clearly showing your confusion.
A heavy breath escaped him.
"You aren't listening," he said, narrowing his eyes before throwing his hands in the air. "Can you at least work? You're not supposed to assist, remember?"
