Playing with Fire

Chapter 1 - Part 1

7:45 AM

It was morning at Fleiden High. The corridors were filled to the brim with students walking either fast or tardy to their classes. They branded their navy jackets, some in their white PE uniforms with colored shoulders swarming across the crowd. Colored dots were only students who refused to conform or comply with the school's fundamental rules. The crowd bumped, clashed and moved about like a lazy slug; incredibly slow seeing that a slug was already slow, and it being lazy is even worse. Amongst the crowd stood a lean boy with straight, deep brown hair, slumping with his large cello case that dangled from his right hand, the other carrying his lunch bag. He, unlike the others, didn't wear his school jacket, his light blue tie neatly hung across his white, collared neck. The boy had an unamused look, his features tired, either from the load he was carrying, or rather... something else.

I'm bored, he thought, walking across the corridor in careful steps.

Thoughts about his name only raced through his mind. Why was he named Odin?

People think I'm a showoff.

He looked down at his cello.

A joke.

He grunted, closing into the music corridor, searching for his class number.

If only some things could change for once.

"Hey showoff," a boy called.

Like having great minds here, instead of idiots who can't even think of an ideal nickname.

Odin didn't turn, his eyes steeled on the end of the corridor. His brows furrowed as he tried to keep his focus from shifting away; at the back in this case.

"Heh, being a god, clear up this trash for me, will ya?"

Odin's eyes were still steeled on the two big doors to the music room before him.

Don't turn. Don't turn, don't-

Something wet landed splat onto his left hand. Something slimy. Something... gross.

Thank the gods it didn't spoil my food.

He paused, carefully setting down his cello case. The strings vibrated with a light thunk, and Odin took a breath as the sound calmed him down. He carefully switched his lunch bag to his right hand, still facing the front. He gently shook his left hand to shake off the green and moldy slime. The liquid flopped onto the tan floor, landing with an icky squelch. The boy behind had stopped moving, his tie loose on his chest, his face giving off a surprised expression, his jaw dropped open. He stared at the scene before him, taking in the sight.

Odin stood normally now, both bags gripped tight by both of his bony, pale hands. He paused for effect, standing still like the undisturbed lake back at his native home, which resembled a natural, perfect mirror, reflecting the lush greens and pine trees that surrounded his family cottage, that blue sky. That perfect place.

Odin turned slowly with a keen sly smirk, eyes glittering in the warm lights, teeth shining pearl white.

The boy's mouth twitched to speak, shock making his hand shake.

"Bye!" Odin said, lips now pressed into a smile. "Don't bother me again."

Odin hefted up his cello case, arm bent with strain, and started jogging fast to his class, not looking back. His cello clunked against his cottoned legs constantly, the strings' sounds echoing through the corridor. Students had given a wide berth already to the scene unfolding before them, and still had as Odin ran to his class with a satisfied, amused smile. His feet stumbled on the tiles with barely any grip to support his steps, yet the boy had no care.