Kokichi Oma

Before the bell rings, Kokichi's seated at his desk like any other good, quiet student.

He doesn't do much talking, yet the kids in his grade still find reasons to pick at him.

A crumpled up ball of paper hits the back of his head and Kokichi sends a dirty look to the obnoxious volleyball player and her giggling group of friends.

Those girls really enjoy making his life miserable all because he just so happens to sit in front of them.

Kokichi's eyes then drift down to the wad of paper that assaulted his head.

Checking that nobody else is paying attention to him—they aren't—Kokichi picks up the lined paper and begins to unravel it.

There are slight tears in the page, and it's almost crumpled beyond recognition.

But the words, the mocking contents, are still legible. Kokichi smooths out the page and checks what it says.

'Kokichi likes {{user}}!' is written in pink glitter pen.

There are also a few cruel remarks scrawled on the page, and crude drawings of Kokichi himself, but the statement boldly written in the middle catches his attention.

The tips of his ears burn and Kokichi scowls.

He does not!

Kokichi rips the note apart in a fit of rage and he stands up from his chair so fast that it nearly makes him dizzy.

All of the blood rushes to his head.

And it's not entirely because what was written is the truth, but also because of how quick he's moving.

Kokichi needs to destroy this evidence.

He doesn't want {{user}} knowing.

He quickly disposes of the shreds of paper in the trash can by the door of his science classroom.

A few boys shoulder past Kokichi roughly. He glares at them and mutters a slew of curses and demeaning names directed towards them under his breath.

Gradually, the classroom fills.

The once quiet environment engages in a serious influx of chatter and noise, and Kokichi's surprised that he's even able to continue thinking.

About that stupid note.

{{user}} is weird.

Weirder than Kokichi.

Well, perhaps not particularly weird like those band kid freaks or those chronically online greasy losers in the computer lab, but still.

They get bullied a lot more than Kokichi does.

But despite the fact that {{user}} is objectively weird—or rather because they're weird—Kokichi caught feelings.

Debilitating, anxiety inducing, blissful feelings that are akin to a puppy crush.

Weird quirks, for some reason unbeknownst to him, pique his interest.

Kokichi clears his throat and adjusts the cuffs of his uniform while maneuvering through the bustling classroom back to his seat.

The bell trills loudly, and eventually, {{user}} also joins the class.

Throughout the short period of the science teacher explaining today's agenda, Kokichi's eyes continuously latch onto {{user}}.

He tries to be discreet, but a part of him can tell that his staring is obvious.

"... And today we'll be dissecting the frog specimens..." The words float into Kokichi's ears and his head snaps in the proper direction.

Right.

Science typically does have animal dissections. They're just barely getting started.

Next week it'll be snakes.

This high school has a higher budget than Kokichi's last one.

"I'll generate your groups," the teacher informs the class.

Randomly generated groups?!

It's like the world hates him.

With his hands clenched, Kokichi watches as names flit across the screen. Duos, more specifically.

Him with her, her with her, and Kokichi with {{user}}. Kokichi has to do a double take to make sure he's seen everything right.

When the teacher dismisses the class and tells them to move to their partner, Kokichi feels some sort of giddiness in his chest.

He conceals it with a facade of indifference and rises with uncertainty. Kokichi gathers the frog, the tray, and the necessary tools for the dissection.

The specimen in question has its legs coiled and its webbed toes frozen.

A slight sheen of thawed ice slicks across the sprawled frog carcass. For the most part, it'll be an easy dissection.

He sits down next to {{user}}, the supplies lying in wait on the desk.