The One Who Never Told | P5

01

Mature Content!!

BE·GIN·NING
/bəˈɡiniNG/

(n.) the point in time or space at which something starts.

" Listen up!"

The familiar monotone voice of the teacher pulled Suzuki out of his little day dream. Besides the shaggy, short haired and constantly tired looking teacher, Sadayo Kawakami, was an unfamiliar student.

"Today we have a transfer student!"

Suzuki brushed his messy black bangs out of his eyes as he glanced up at the new transfer student. His eyes lingered on his form for a moment as the whispers erupted from his classmates, quickly filling the once silent room.

It was no surprise such rumors about him had already gotten around. People in Tokyo liked to talk. Soft murmurs about assault filled the tense air.

Suzuki eyed the student. Plain.

That was the first word that came to mind as he looked up at him.

From the circular lens that rested on his nose, to the raven colored, curly mop he called hair; he was plain. He wasn't particularly muscular. Suzuki would have never guessed that he was a young delinquent, already convicted of assault.

Looks could be deceiving.

Suzuki's gaze shifted away from the newcomer. Nonetheless, he wanted nothing to do with him. Not only had he come in late on his first day, he already had a record.

Nothing good could come from Suzuki associated himself with him and he had more important things to worry about.

His body shivered, as a cold chill shook his body. Just thinking about the unspeakable acts of the night before were enough to freeze him to his core.

Suzuki felt sick.

The disgusting feeling of someone's else hand groping and touching all the places he wanted to be touched the least. His hand rushed to his mouth, tightly covering it as he resisted the urge to throw up right then and there.

It was hard not to think about.

Again, Suzuki zoned out.

He almost didn't look up when he heard his name being called.

"You can sit in front of Suzuki Nakamura." said Kawakami-sensei.

In that instance, Suzuki's eyes met the transfer student's.

His dead, barely clinging onto life's gaze was mirrored by the student's.  Yes, Akira's eyes gleamed with a look all too familiar by Suzuki.

It was a look of defeat and anguish. It was a gaze of someone who had given up and accepted their demise.

Yes, Suzuki knew that look all too well.

However, it was in that instance, that the look changed. It was only a second, but Suzuki saw red.

In the red haze, he saw golden eyes peering back at him.

They were filled with despair, sure, but there was another emotion there. Something that Suzuki wasn't so familiar with. There was passion, hatred, yet a ting of hope. Suzuki felt himself looking deeper into those golden orbs. They stared back at him; unmoving and determined.

He blinked, and the vision was gone.

Suzuki hadn't even realized that the student had already begun approaching him. His intense gaze has surely gotten the attention of their classmates too.

More whispers fell from his loose lipped classmates as they spoke harsh truths.

"I wonder if they know each other..." Someone spoke from the otherside of the classroom.

There was some soft giggling.

"Dunno, freaks attract other freaks." They teased. Of course they didn't care if they heard or not, their soft whispers were anything but.

Suzuki gritted his teeth as he shifted his gaze outside the window. He had already grown accustomed to the constant verbal abuse he received, but that didn't make it any easier to bear.

"You've got Kamoshida's girlfriend, Ann, the local man whore, Suzuki, and the newest addition, the bumpkin assault convict, that Akira guy."

Someone gave a gasp of recognition. "Ah! Like the three musketeers! How perfect!" Laughter tore into the class. They weren't wrong though.

Suzuki's hand balled up into a tight fist as he heard the old nickname. As much as he wanted to pretend it didn't happen, the memories flooded in.

Before he knew it, he was trapped within his own mind, forced to relive a nightmare.