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All streams flow into the sea, yet the sea is never full. To the place the streams come from, there they return again.
❀⋆˚｡ ╰┈➤ The classroom buzzed with the low hum of chatter and the scratching of pencils against paper.
"Alright, class," their teacher said, turning to face his students. "Who can solve this?"
To most, the diagram on the board was absolute gibberish, a foreign language everyone had been struggling to grasp.
A few hesitant hands raised, but Ranpo's shot up immediately, his face a mixture of boredom and impatience.
"Ranpo," the teacher sighed, as if already anticipating the outcome. "Go ahead."
Ranpo stood, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape that drew the attention of everyone in the room. He walked to the board, his steps confident, almost arrogant. He grabbed the chalk and, with a few swift movements, solved the problem effortlessly.
"The carbon chain is eight molecules long," he said, stepping back and tossing the chalk onto the tray. "With two ethyl groups off of the third and sixth carbon. Therefore its name would be three-six diethyl octane." The young man explained.
He glanced around the room, taking in the mix of confused and resentful faces. "It's a simple alkane. Honestly, this entire lesson is boring. Nothing here is challenging at all."
Their teacher pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly tired of Ranpo's antics but not surprised by them. "Thank you, Ranpo. Please take your seat."
As Ranpo returned to his desk, he could feel the eyes of his classmates on him, a mix of envy and irritation. Whispers filled the room, faint murmurs that were just quiet enough to be out of earshot, but he could already guess them.
His eyes darted around to the backs of heads.
'Always showing off...'
'Thinks he's better than everyone...'
'Why can't he just keep quiet for once?'
At least, that was what he assumed they were thinking. Of course he couldn't prove it, but he was probably right, no, he knew he was right.
Ranpo sat down, accustomed to the scornful glances and envious murmurs. They never bothered to understand him, viewing his intelligence as something to resent.
To him, they were all just a bunch of idiots. What came naturally to him was an insurmountable challenge for his peers. How was it his fault that they were unable to keep up with him?
The president never tried to understand them either, and maybe he couldn't.
He slammed his feet down onto his desk, sulking to himself at how boring this entire class was. He glanced around the room, catching glimpses of his classmates averting their eyes or exchanging knowing glances. Did they envy him? Did they despise him for his effortless understanding of concepts they struggled to grasp? Or did they simply see him as an obstacle, a reminder of their own inadequacies?
Of course, he knew all of this to be true already. But did he care? No, absolutely not. At least, that's what he had convinced himself of.
Ranpo didn't need friends, it was better to be alone than to tolerate those he believed to be complete idiots.
No one would understand, no one could understand. Not a single person could see how he fee—
"Aw, now that can't be good for you, prez," you remarked, a mischievous grin on your face.
Ranpo scoffed, arms crossed defensively. "Oh? And why not? I'm the only one who can do it properly anyway. The rest would just half-ass the whole project."
Your chuckle was soft, tinged with amusement. "But it's a group project. Sounds like they're dumping all the work on you. You should make them take some responsibility," you cracked your knuckles, "if you want I can—"
"You can't solve everything with your fists," he cut you off with a dismissive wave. "Besides, I can handle it more efficiently and more intelligently than they ever could."
Your expression softened into a frown. "But still, teamwork is important."
"You don't get it, do you?" Ranpo grumbled, frustration evident in his tone. "I have to do it."
You paused, studying him with those penetrating eyes that seemed to see through his facade. The president felt nothing short of a shiver crawl down his spine. He hated it but... he also felt somewhat relieved — he didn't know why.
"But... do you want to?" You finally spoke, "there's no need to do everything yourself all the time. It must get pretty lonely," you remarked casually, popping a candy into your mouth. Then, you offered a piece to him, it was a rare gesture. Ranpo almost looked surprised. "Here, sweets usually make you less grumpy."
Ranpo snatched the candy from your hand with a slight pout, his voice edged with cynicism. "Stop treating me like this. You're pretending, aren't you?" His tone was sharp, almost accusatory. He didn't want to believe in your words — not if they were just another trick, another disappointment.
You simply looked at him, bemused, with a hint of exasperation in your eyes, as if his response was expected but still somehow surprising.
Ranpo turned away, sulking in silence. But beneath the surface, he felt the flicker of a something. Hope, maybe.
Is this what it feels like to be treated like... a normal person?
ORIGINAL PUBLICATION 09.13.2024 ❀
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