#{mao;}

What rotten luck...

The first year had hidden himself away in a empty hallway between the practice building and the main building to be out of the sight of other students and staff. The day had been rough as usual but this time Mao had the misfortune of sitting on some thumbtacks that were planted in his seat. He didn’t go to a bathroom stall for risk of someone dousing him with water (again) so he opted for a no traffic hall to pluck out the pins painstakingly and patching himself up. He gave a heavy sigh as he finished up, only to feel his heart leap into his throat at the sudden presence of an upper classman.

Mao’s back immediately hit the wall as he looked up to Akira, trying to figure out what to say. Had she seen any of this? He surely hoped not...Wait..isn’t she that student..?

"Well, I mean..." Mao trailed off, shuffling nervously.

"I don't know...I guess it doesn't bother me too much...? I don't have time to worry about people being mad about me. All I do is...help others and study...What's to dislike about that..?"

"Ignored? I don't feel that way..."

Oh...

Mao clenched his teeth, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as the question settled into his mind. Did he not feel like who he is..? Were his 'accomplishments' simply from influence? Or did he have any merit into it? Was he truly living? Or was he surviving under a certain someone's rule...?

The boy shook his head; no..no, that couldn't be true. No one would use and abuse their own flesh and blood.

Right...?

"I suppose I-I'm a bit of a perfectionist..."

Mao shifts, tugging at his sleeves.

"That I am! My father taught me to be diligent in my work is to be reliable to all..!"