Sticky Notes And Trinkets(Rusame)

Functional Immortality and Caught Changing

America left the surprising little sticky note on the desk he'd sat at. Someone had wanted to know his preferred pronouns, which was surprising, even more surprising was that the person didn't just walk up to him and ask him.

He usually liked to stick around Mrs. Dackermon's classroom and talk to her after class, as she was one of his nicest and most understanding teachers, but he felt off today and had felt someone staring at him for a good chunk of class. So, he politely waved goodbye to Mrs. Dackermon and got out of the classroom as quickly as he could.

He made his way to his locker, and found himself surprised when he found a sticky note that said "I'm sorry" on it. He noticed how the handwriting on it was similar to the one on his desk about his preferred pronouns. He wondered who they were and why they were apologizing to him. He might never find out that information, and he was perfectly fine accepting that; though it would be nice to know.

He considered the note, "I'm sorry", who would have a reason to apologize to him, and why? The people who were unkind to him? They weren't apologetic and doubled down on their dislike of him daily. Maybe it was one of his classmates that just watched it and never said anything. He supposed that was probably it, but he knew he shared at least one class with them, that class being AP Biology, because of the note they'd passed him. He doubted it was the new person - they already seemed biased towards hating and disliking him. Plus, he'd only seen them in his first class, AP World History. So he wasn't sure they even shared the second class.

He shook it off and started towards the cafeteria, going to lunch.

He didn't really eat lunch anymore, he'd slowly stopped eating after how kids had been about him touching food, being called a fatass wasn't very fun, and even though he never ate around anyone but his family they kept mocking him.

He wasn't overweight- he was actually far closer to underweight. His condition has him double up on what he ate. He hated having it- not that anyone but his parents knew he did. Luckily for him, they'd caught it early enough so that it wouldn't have stunted his growth. He couldn't sleep, the condition was colloquially called "Fatal Fucking insomnia" though he tended to call it by the scientific name: Nyenke ashka. It wouldn't kill him like it had many others, as his friend China had screwed up a ritual of some kind when they were babies. He could skip the tranquilizers that were specifically tailored to those fortunate enough to lived past infancy, because his friend had basically granted him with functional immortality.

The only way to kill him was now beheading him, which was so unlikely to occur. They

He went outside and made his way to the tree kids smoked under after school. It was the only place he could eat without being seen, as he wasn't fond of spurring on the mocking. He would eat with his friends, if any of them had shared a lunch period with him.

He opened his bag and pulled out a small container that he'd packed his lunch into. He also grabbed the thermos of coffee, knowing he'd need the energy from it fairly soon.

He took a couple sips of the coffee and took some food out of the container he'd brought with him. He then started to eat the sandwich he'd brought- he'd made it the night before. It was a simple sandwich, good enough for him.

He finished it quickly, almost flinching when he felt someone's eyes on him. He slowly convinced himself it was just anxiety and paranoia as he continued eating, taking sips of coffee from the thermos he'd brought with him.

He quickly finished eating and packed the empty containers back into his bag and continued drinking the coffee. He zipped his bag up and started walking back towards the school, the only thing he held was his thermos. He drank more of the coffee before he entered the school, trying not to pay much mind to one of the kids who pointed at him, calling him fat and ugly.

He got out of the lunch room as quickly as he could, opting to hide himself in one of the bathrooms. He knew he at least wasn't fat; he was cheer captain and he rocked the girls cheer uniform. He knew that anything, he was too skinny.

He sighed quietly to himself and packed the thermos into his bag, he could probably get away with hiding himself in the hall. He left the bathroom and checked to see if he there was someone stopping him from heading to the library; as it was usually empty. To his dismay, there was someone there to stop him.

He reluctantly steps back towards the cafeteria while the person watched him closely. He looked around for a more secluded spot to sit, preferring to be outside, but knowing more people had probably gone out there. He looked out one of the glass doors, finding people out by the tree, just as he'd suspected. He sighed a little, slowly making his way around the cafeteria, trying not to draw too much attention to himself.

As soon as it was close enough to the end of lunch to leave, he got up and headed to go to his next class. He bolted towards it, knowing it was on the other side of campus. It was a gym class and the teacher wasn't exactly the nicest about those who were even just barely late.

America got to the changing room and collected his gym clothes from his locker in the changing room. He was there far before anyone else, so he didn't feel the need to go into one of the bathrooms to change.

While he was dressed down to his boxers, he heard someone come into the locker room. He quickly collected his clothes and went over to one of the stalls. He didn't move too quickly, not wanting to draw more attention to himself by doing so.

He got into one of the stalls and sat in the toilet seat, pulling the gym shirt on, and then getting up to pull up the black shorts that made up the second half of the "uniform".