worn out.

L For Logy

I have 69 votes and I've never
been prouder.

*wipes tear from eye*

Atsu drew out a morose exhale. The experiment was over and school was out for the day. The sun is hidden behind thick sheets of fog and wind that blanket the city in a white sheet of poison. Pale skin tinges pink and tan skin becomes pale and acentous with cold.

The sun hides behind the smog that encapsulates the bustling city and only dyes it a twinge pink so that it won't be a blinding white-grey to all those who stare out to the sky for help from some kind of god to save them from their worthless lives. It's too dark to see anything clearly, Atsu navigates his way blindly, his throat is swelling and he grips his forearm in attempt to escape it all.

He should expect something entertaining tomorrow, Okuda is making some sort of concoction with the octopus, Korosensei. Sometimes to kill him. Atsu almost hopes it will work so he can just go to sleep. The only reason he was sent to E-class to begin with was to help in the assassination of that monstrous creature. He wouldn't do it though, he did not care enough.

The haze of city pollution stabbing at his lungs is ever so uncomfortable. The uncharacteristically cold air and strong wind would make him shutter, but he will not be controlled. So it settles a layer of goosebumps on his pale skin and he grits his teeth to retaliate a quiver in the cold, but he does not shiver. He bites his lips and walks through, numb to the looks others are giving him. It is far too cold for a simple off white-grey hoodie and the black dress pants the school provides.

His ears are numb and he can't feel his fingertips in the desensitized weather. He let's out a shaky breath, it feels cold on his tongue.

He felt something bubble in the back of his prespicacious mind. Eyes stare at him, pastel lavender orbs and strawberry blonde hair follow behind charcoal black eyes and ebony locks. He clenched his hands, they sting in his iron grip, Karasuma had left early today so he couldn't ask for painkillers or treatment. His head was spinning, everything seemed distorted and he hacked out sanguine smoke from his insides into the afternoon air.

He makes a turn that differs from his ordinary route, soft footfalls follow behind him.

Smoke runs into the sky from his chapped lips, it joins the heavy pollution that lulled over there city, drifting off into the night. Hugging and jumping with smog, his breath is gone with the wind. He coughed again. The bitter smell of copper and the sticky taste of blood filled his senses. His ears ring loudly and his eyes haze over in a way similar to the sky above. He bites his tongue and the syrupy, bittersweet taste of blood is gone from his throat. Lights blink in the distance, they are only fuzzy blobs of color.

Atsu crosses the busy street, soft footsteps follow behind him. He doesn't bother to take notice. Atsu thinks about asking for medicine when he arrives home, his throat is burning. It's stinging and screaming and it cries in horrendous agony to him. His throat is squeezing against his lungs, he coughs again, spitting the bitter substance on the ground, red stains the dirty asphalt floor. Dandelions sprout from cracks in the street and grime infested sidewalk, he cannot breathe, the air is too suffocating and the lavender eyes that trace him burn at the back of his skull, but he will keep this terrible skin. He will suffer, he will wait until Kanashi is old enough to survive on her own. He knows she can't remember, she was just two when it happened.

He wishes he was like her, he was six, he could remember everything. He could feel the fear even though he didn't show it. Even though his posture was lax and his eyes were blank.

Atsu truly does hate the color red. He hates the crimson color with all his being. With all his flaws and scars he will never learn to like it, not after then. Never. He coughs again and caramine sticks to his blushing burns, his eyes are suddenly too heavy and his mind is overcome with fatigue. His breathing is labored and tired. It heeves and he blinks for too long. He cannot open his eyes and the world is dark and stained white. His lips are sewn shut and his emotions are incarcerated into his gut.

His stomach churns and his eyes flash over and all he can see is water and his eyes burn.

He can see her icy blue and coal black eyes, her plush smile. Everything hurts and he cannot breath. He's drowning again, he just wants—

Nothing. He wants nothing.

He opens his dull orbs and sucks in a painful gasp of smokey air. Everything is still ringing and the fatigued boy wants nothing more than to fall asleep,-- maybe he won't wake up this time. Cars pass him, everything is too moving in slow motion, then it speeds up and it's moving too fast. It's all to fast and he chokes on nothing.

Gakushu Asano sneers at the pathetic figure in his line of vision, the principals son almost wishes he wasn't as stubborn as he is. Asano lost a bet, and of course due to his arrogance, he let the winner decide on what to do before the bet began.-- why was he like this? Unluckily for him they decided it be something to ruin his pride and pop his bubbled ego. He was to follow the first E-class loser they see home.

The teen before him is shuddering in the wind and he suddenly feels too hot in his own fur coat. Pity swells in his gut, piercing through his crippled heart and leaving him with red ears and a malice filled deed. The young strawberry blonde is irritated, but he cannot help but sympathize. His father would never give him a coat should he be below perfect.

Atsu's face is completely asymmetrical, blood spread on his bony cheek, the ichor like acrylic paint. Thick and rich with color. He feels his void like eyes sink into his skull. He has to keep going on, he doesn't care about anything, he has to go on.--For her, – wait, why do I care?

He stops and the strawberry blonde behind him almost bumps into him. He let's go of his oxygen in tidbits. A harsh yet comforting sound escapes him. It's almost pretty, Asano snaps out of his daze and continues to glare at the E-class trash that he is forced to follow.

Atsu Hino can hear Gakashu Asano, of course he could. He was emotionally disconnected, not a blundering idiot who couldn't see something that was right in front of him.

"I never expected anyone to try and follow me, were you aware of that factor?" The sudden noise from the person he's following sends Gakashu stumbling back. The tone is so similar to his father it sends a chill up his spine. Why couldn't it have been Okuda he had to follow, or Isogai. This one was obviously crazy.

It was then he noticed where he was and his breath stays in his mouth, in his lungs, the buildings that surround them only leave them narrow room on cracked cobblestone. None could think of a time the ground was unblemished, but Atsu didn't care and the only thing occupying Gakashu's mind at the moment was escaping his current predicament.

The alleyway looks over them with a frightening glare, looming ominously over the two teens. A cat tips over a glass made object and it cracks when making contact with the floor, probably splintering and leaving shards everywhere, but Atsu doesn't care, the silence is broken and the unstable, onyx eyed male begins to talk in a slurry manner. As if drunk. As if he hadn't slept.

What has Gakashu gotten himself into this time?

"I never expected my persecuter to be the almighty number one of the most renowned schools in all of Japan." The young Asano smiled warily and backed up. His feet padding the cobblestone beneath his new shoes. Atsu stays in place, his hoodie is fitted and the dark under his eyes is making it hard to stay awake.

"And last but not least, I truly never expected it to be you, Gakashu." Atsu smiles, it's so fake it hurts his cheeks to commit to doing it. So stickily sweet it's confectionery. Like fentanyl. Like ethylene glycol, Atsu can feel himself growing a cavity, a hole in a perfectly good tooth.

A gap that can never be filled, by anyone, ever.

It's a shame he does not care enough to deal with it.

L is for Logy
Forget the things you taught me
I omit it all