First Period

The morning halls of KJ Middle School buzzed with activity as students rushed to their lockers and classrooms, their conversations blending into a dull roar. Kikidori walked beside Ere'ana, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, his black hair falling slightly over his crimson eyes. He towered over her as they moved through the crowd, his presence exuding a calm yet unapproachable energy.

Ere'ana, on the other hand, was a bright contrast to his dark aura. Her blonde hair flowed behind her, and her emerald eyes sparkled with warmth. She clung to his arm, chatting animatedly about something one of her friends had said the night before.

"You know," she said, looking up at him, "Tessa felt *so awkward* after you shut her down last night. I kind of loved it."

Kikidori's lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smirk. "She deserved it."

"She really did," Ere'ana agreed, a playful grin on her face. "But thank you for staying. It meant a lot to me."

"Of course," he said simply.

They reached her classroom door, and Ere'ana paused, turning to him. "Well, this is me."

Kikidori nodded, reaching out to open the door for her. "I'll see you at lunch."

But just as she was about to walk in, she hesitated. Then, with a sudden burst of boldness, she leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

It was quick and innocent, but it left Kikidori standing frozen for a moment, his red eyes wide with surprise. Ere'ana giggled at his reaction, her cheeks a little pink as she stepped into the classroom.

"Bye, Kiki!" she called over her shoulder before disappearing inside.

Kikidori stood there for a second longer, the faint warmth of her lips lingering on his cheek. His expression softened, a rare, genuine smile ghosting across his face.

He turned and began walking to his own class, his heart beating just a little faster than usual. Ere'ana had that effect on him, making the world feel lighter, if only for a moment.

Gym wasn't exactly his favorite class, but it gave him an outlet for some of the restless energy that constantly simmered under his calm exterior. As he walked into the locker room, the chatter of his classmates barely registered.

He changed into his athletic gear, his mind still replaying the moment at the classroom door. That small, unexpected gesture—it wasn't something he was used to. Affection. Warmth. For someone like him, it felt almost alien.

But it was nice.

As he stepped onto the gym floor, the whistle blew, signaling the start of warm-ups. Kikidori moved through the exercises with precision, his body on autopilot while his mind wandered.

He didn't deserve Ere'ana. Not with the things he'd done, the things he continued to do. But for now, he allowed himself to hold onto the memory of her kiss, letting it drown out the darkness for just a little while longer.

👇👇 After the warmups 👇👇

The gym buzzed with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor, the rhythmic thuds of basketballs echoing through the wide-open space. Kikidori moved through the drills like a machine, his focus sharp, his crimson eyes fixed on the task in front of him. He didn't interact with the others much. He never did.

Most of his classmates gave him a wide berth, sensing the quiet, impenetrable barrier he carried with him. But not Jeremy. Jeremy was different.

Jeremy had been a thorn in Kikidori's side since middle school. A loudmouth with a cruel streak, Jeremy had latched onto Kikidori's tragedy like a leech. He always found a way to bring up Kikidori's dead father, turning it into some sick joke. But Kikidori never reacted—not visibly, at least.

That only made Jeremy try harder.

The latest provocation came during a break between drills. Kikidori was leaning against the wall, his head tilted back slightly as he tried to push the growing tension in his mind to the side.

"Hey, *Daddy Issues,*" Jeremy called out, his voice cutting through the noise.

Kikidori didn't even flinch. He kept his eyes closed, his breathing steady.

"Still pretending you're too cool to care, huh?" Jeremy continued, strolling over with his usual cocky swagger. "Guess that's all you can do, huh? Act tough when your daddy isn't here to see you fail."

A couple of Jeremy's cronies laughed, but Kikidori didn't acknowledge them. He'd learned long ago that giving Jeremy a reaction only fueled him.

But Jeremy wasn't satisfied.

He stepped closer, his shadow falling over Kikidori. "Hey. I'm talking to you."

Still no response.

Jeremy's jaw tightened, and before anyone could stop him, he grabbed Kikidori's chin, forcing his face upward. "*Look at me when I'm talking to you.*"

The gym seemed to go quiet for a moment as Kikidori's crimson eyes snapped open, locking onto Jeremy's face. There was no anger in his gaze, no fear—just a cold, calculating stillness that made Jeremy falter for a split second.

Kikidori's hand shot up, gripping Jeremy's wrist with surprising strength. His voice was calm, steady, and low. "Shut up and go away."

Jeremy's smirk returned, though it was shakier now. He yanked his wrist back, but Kikidori didn't let go.

"Make me, *bitch,*" Jeremy spat, his voice louder now, his ego desperate to recover.

Kikidori's grip tightened slightly, and for a moment, it seemed like he might actually do something. He could feel the darkness stirring within him, whispering in the back of his mind. Jeremy was nothing but a pest, and Kikidori could make him disappear in seconds if he wanted to.

But before he could decide, the sound of a whistle pierced the tension.

"Hey! What's going on over there?" Coach Grayson's voice boomed as he strode across the gym, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the two boys.

Kikidori immediately let go of Jeremy's wrist and stepped back, his expression unreadable.

Jeremy, ever the opportunist, pointed a finger at Kikidori. "He called me a *bitch,* Coach!"

Coach Grayson's eyes flicked to Kikidori, his expression stern. "Is that true?"

Kikidori met the coach's gaze, his voice calm and even. "No."

Jeremy scoffed, holding up his wrist as if to show some invisible injury. "He grabbed me, Coach! What the hell is wrong with this guy?"

Coach Grayson sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Both of you, to the sidelines. Now."

Kikidori didn't argue. He walked to the sidelines without a word, his face as calm as ever. Jeremy followed, grumbling under his breath but clearly pleased with himself.

As they sat down, Jeremy leaned closer, his voice low so the coach couldn't hear. "You're lucky, freak. But one day, no one's gonna save your ass."

Kikidori didn't respond. He didn't need to. Jeremy was nothing more than an irritation, a fly buzzing around his head.

But deep down, Kikidori knew it wasn't just luck that had stopped him. It was Ere'ana. Her presence in his life was the only thing tethering him to the thin thread of normalcy he clung to.

If it hadn't been for her, Jeremy might not have walked away from that encounter.