perfect burnout

Cold and distant.

That's what Ranboo was in the eyes of their classmates – cold and distant. But it didn't matter so long as they were the top student of the class. It didn't matter as long as they were the centre stage when it came to homework and exams and grades.

If Ranboo was still the top student everyone knew, then they'd proudly play into the cold and distant role.

—------------------------------

One-hundred. Nothing more, nothing less, just the typical for top-scorer Ranboo. He blankly looks at the familiar red numbers, standing out from the neatly written ones in black, presented within his formulas.

Another one to add to his collection.

Their classmates gathered around quickly, eager to see Ranboo's accomplishment once again, leaving occasional gasps of awe and compliments. He liked those, but they'd rather die than mention it.

He could just be the perfect A* student.

"Class, settle down," A voice echoed throughout the classroom, leaving the students scrambling back to their seats, "We have a new student."

A tall, blond kid stood at the door, clutching one of his bag straps, visibly awkward as everyone's attention was diverted to him.

"That's Tommy, he's 17, a year younger than each and every single one of you, but he's very good at math, so I expect you to be nice to him."

Very good at math? Almost like that kid could remotely compare to Ranboo – they snickered, judging the lanky kid from head to toe.

They stopped the spinning pen, positioning it perfectly in his hands, smirking, as he started to vigorously scribble on their notebook.

Someone's bound to humble him.

—------------------------------

Ranboo receives his paper, ninety-eight. Alright, that's not too bad, just two careless mistakes costing their marks. They made sure to note that one down for next time.

Oddly, the attention wasn't on him as per usual, instead directed to the new boy. Tommy, was it?

A brunet stopped by their side, asking, "How much did you get?"

"Uhh, ninety-eight. I kinda fucked up my working and-"

"Cool," The boy interrupted, "Tommy got ninety-nine. Nice job, by the way."

Ranboo froze in his seat. Apparently that kid got one singular mark more than them and now everyone is going wild over it. He must have just gotten lucky. They huffed at the thought, grasping the paper tightly as they harshly stuffed it into his bag, swinging it over their shoulder and leaving the classroom.

He walks mindlessly, soon finding themself in the library yet once again. Typical Ranboo, where else would he be? They threw their bag onto a chair and slumped into one beside, fishing out an assessment book.

Ranboo repeatedly clicks the pen, the sound echoing throughout the room, while staring blankly at the questions laid in front of him, he's determined to prove their worth. That kid has got absolutely nothing on him.

They indulge themself in work, frantically scribbling on the pages as he gets through the questions, checks the back page for the answer key, gets it right, flips to the next page and repeats the process. He doesn't notice when someone else steps in.

A shadow casts over the white papers, elongating as it approaches, leading Ranboo to glance up from his work. Oh, it's Tommy. They raise an eyebrow at the boy standing opposite, to which he falters before processing his speech.