I'm not a game | Kenma Kozume x Reader

Mother's poetry book

Your commute to school was full of paranoia when you rode the train alone in the morning. Thankfully, you arrived early to avoid the morning rush. Keeping your head down, you walk past the school gates. With some time to kill you decide to spend your morning in the courtyard, settling yourself in one of the picnic benches. Placing your backpack on the table, you unzip your bag open and pull out a book. The book is a collection of poems that your mother read to you when you were younger. You stumbled upon the book yesterday when you were unpacking. You feel the sun rays warm your back, your eyes darting left and right as you read.

To hate is an easy lazy thing

But to love takes strength

Everyone has

But not all are willing to practice

- Rupi Kaur

This poem specifically calls out to you and you continue to reread it over and over. Your lips press together and your brows knit together in irritation. You close the book shut, running your fingers through your hair. You decide to make your way to class, throwing your backpack over one shoulder. Several students start to enter the school courtyard and you're careful to not brush up against anyone. A familiar group of guys enter the courtyard and they notice you alone. "The ice princess is by herself. Should I get my revenge?" The guy you annoyed yesterday mutters to his friends. Being the idiots they are, they hype their friend up. "I'll be right back." He forms a lopsided smirk, quickening his pace.

You feel goosebumps run down your spine and a quick presence charging from behind you. Your reflexes makes you turn around but you didn't expect the person to snag the book you're holding out of your grasp. A piercing glare forms on your face when you turn to stare at the attacker. You mentally groan when you see the guy from yesterday in front of you. He cockily grins at you, raising the book up beside him. "What is this? A diary of yours?" He laughs obnoxiously. "Idiot, if you can read you could tell it's a poetry book." You stand your ground.

He tilts his head, looking at the book much closer. "Who reads poetry for fun?" He scoffs, flipping through the book. "Obviously not someone as arrogant as you." You step forward trying to snatch your mother's poetry book back. Your words easily anger him when he flicks his eyes over to you, his face scrunching together. "Honestly your beauty is wasted." He clicks his tongue, wiggling the book in his hand. "You humiliated me yesterday in front of everyone. You know that?" You laugh at him and raise your eyebrows. "Okay, and?"

He fumes from your attitude, opening the book up. "So I'm going to get revenge." You watch him place a hand on several of the pages. Your eyes widening when you realize what he plans to do. "STOP. Don't you dare." You yell out to him, attempting to snatch the book away from him. An evil smile etches on the students face when he rips a page out. You feel your heart drop in your chest from the sound of paper ripping. "What's so special about this book anyway? Just buy a new one." He rips another page in front of your paralyzed body.

Mother.

It didn't matter if you could just buy another copy of the book. That one specifically belonged to your mother.

Your hands tremble and you hold back the tears that form in the corner of your eyes. Clasping your hands into fists, you scream out at the male student. He startles when he sees the dark hollow look in your eyes. "Do you enjoy seeing others hurt?" You shout towards him, running full force towards your classmate. He tenses when run over to him. You snatch the book out of his hand and slap the book across his face. A few onlookers gasp from the loud sound and his friends quickly run over to his side. A few of them ready a stance as if they're going to fight you. "Do it. I dare you cowards to try and hit me!"