Chapter Text
They say repetition leads to memorization, but eventually those words begin to lose meaning. He could deny it all he wanted but the name that stayed laden on his tongue was nothing but a cold reminder of something that never was or would be. He could repeat it over and over again until he believed it, but the sounds would never escape his throat. So he would stare straight ahead in class, silently tortured by the invisible label held above him. Somewhere he drew up the idea that if only he could say the word he repeated in his mind to himself, a word that gave him a single comfort, that it would all suddenly disappear behind him. It was a sorry hope, one that held no more credibility than his own name.
He remembered school being something he enjoyed once. It was so long ago though, he wasn’t sure why. What did people do in school? Did the teachers talk? Did the students play games? Was it like in those movies he, Sam, and Taurtis used to watch?
Thinking about that made a tiny smile slip onto his face. He remembered staying up late watching old movies in Sam’s room. The teachers acted so differently there. Part of him wished he lived in those movies where the only problem was a bad grade on a test or a tiny argument in the friend group.
His smile dropped as he remembered how the school based movies slowly turned to horror films. How Sam would play some slasher movie late at night once Taurtis had fallen asleep. It kept him up those nights, flinching under the covers as he hid his face into a pillow. Somehow Sam slept easily through the films, leaving them on so that only he would be sitting there, watching.
He shifted as the clothes scratched against skin. The fabric rubbed against his body in a way that he hated—bandages feeling too tight—the stupid headphones attached to his ears. There was only one good thing about any of this thanks to the affixed headphones: they blocked out some noise. He was just glad Sam had stopped making him dye his hair.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer. Either that or move, no one likes being treated like an exhibit.”
Sam’s voice was loud enough to cut through the foam of the headphones. He looked up from the desk, his eyes following Sam’s to the open door. Sam had sounded a bit amused by whoever was staring, and he could almost hear the smirk on his face. Although it only made him cringe internally. Sam had been treating him like an exhibit since…
Sam was a hypocrite. He’d come to terms with that.
He looked over and saw that there was, in fact, someone standing in the doorway. He was aware that everyone else in the class had also turned to face the person Sam pointed out, if only to please Sam’s need for attention.
The boy was taller than him, that was for sure, but they were new. That was what surprised him. They were new.
He knew everyone who went to this school and they all knew him as well. They’d been going to the same school for years together, in fact, they hadn’t gotten a new student since himself.
The new boy had brown hair that covered his forehead and fell to the back of his neck. He was wearing the uniform just like everyone else, except it looked exceptionally small. His jacket was barely able to button over the white shirt. His pant legs laid over his ankles, and his tie had been tied much too short for him.
The sight made him want to laugh, at just how odd the other looked, but he bit it back. He didn’t want to be rude. He didn’t want to annoy Sam.
“Sorry, is this…” The boy started, before his words died off as he gazed around at all the different students staring at him. “I’m here for…I’m new.”
He tried to keep his face still, tried to not stare at the scars that lined the other’s face. Part of him worried that this boy had already been a victim to Sam once before. Was that where he got his scars from? Why were there so many? He felt a pit in his stomach form the more he thought. How could he have let Sam do this? He was supposed to keep Sam together! He was supposed to make sure this didn’t happen to anyone else!
The guilt was eating him alive before the teacher cleared their throat and began talking. It was the first time he had heard them talk in weeks. They stood up from the chair and rushed over to the front of the room. He followed them with his eyes, confused.
“Yes! I almost forgot! Class, we have a new student joining us. It’s a part of the exchange program we have going on with Hermitville. Now, how about you introduce yourself to the class?”
He stuttered in his mind, exchange program? They didn’t have an exchange program. No, no, something was wrong here. There was no exchange program. No one had left the school.
He looked up from his desk again. That was when he found that the brunet was looking at him. He felt terrible for this boy, why did he have to come? Why did he have to leave his wonderful school? Even if he had no idea what his life before was like, any school would be wonderful compared to this one.
The boy smiled at him, “Hi!” He said, as if he was only talking to him, “My name’s Scar, Scar Goodtimes.”
Oh, that was his name.
Of course it was, Sam had named him after all. It would only make sense for Sam to call this boy something that he could easily remember. He looked away from the boy, he felt useless. How did he let this happen? He thought things were going well.
“Right, well, go ahead and take a seat wherever you’d like and we’ll get started with today’s lesson.” The teacher said, ushering Scar away.
He raised an eyebrow, lesson? Since when did they have lessons?
While he was racking his brain for the last time they had had a lesson, Scar walked up to the next row of desks. There were only a few empty seats, mainly near Yuki and Sam since no one wanted to be next to them.
“Is this seat taken?”
He ignored it, he was sure that the boy was talking to someone else. Until he heard the question repeated. He looked over and Scar was looking at him again. Those brown eyes were staring at him and all he could manage was a blink.
A second later, he pointed at himself, confused, “You’re asking me?”
Scar nodded.
He choked back a bit of laughter. Someone was talking to him. Someone was talking to him! And it wasn't Sam! He was so caught up in the fact someone was talking to him he forgot the boy’s question.
It only took a moment of the brown-eyed boy staring at him for him to remember. He looked back at the desk next to him. Of course the desk was free… it had been for a long time now.
Still, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to give it up just yet. That seat was one of the last pieces of himself he had left. His old seat. He felt his eyes burn as he stared at it. He felt his hands grip his desk involuntarily, “It’s free.”
“I-I don’t have to sit here.” Scar whispered, he looked around again, pointing to the empty chairs next to Yuki and Sam. “I can go sit by them.”
His eyes widened, no, he couldn’t let this boy sit next to Sam. He wouldn’t do that. Not after everything else he’d caused him already. “No. Sit there. Sit there, please.” He knew begging didn’t look good but he didn’t care.
Scar’s eyes squinted but he nodded quickly, and sat down.
He tried to calm himself down. He didn’t want to freak out in front of this kid. He tried to focus on whatever it was that the teacher was saying, but what on Earth were they going on about? Since when did they take notes? Since when did they have lessons?!
So, instead of listening, he focused on breathing. He tried to keep his back perfectly straight, Sam didn’t like slouching. He laid his hands flat on the table, if he didn’t move his hands he wouldn’t feel the urge to scratch. He stared straight ahead hoping it looked as if he was paying attention. His mind was running in circles, but the world around him felt as if it was paused in time..
His fingers felt like they were moving at a snail’s pace. He grabbed his pencil, dragging the pointed edge on his wrists. The slight pain of the pointed lead brought him back to the world only somewhat. He really just wanted to leave. Every second he spent felt like he was closer to dying.
“Pst.”
He couldn’t hear the sound between the thoughts in his head and the headphones clamped on his ears.
“Pstt…” He did feel the nudge of his desk moving without his permission. It shook him from his sludgy thoughts, just about bringing him into the world again. It still felt slow compared to his brain but he was moving again. He looked over to see Scar was staring at him with wide eyes.
“What?” He whispered, hoping he wouldn’t get in trouble the one time they had a lesson.
“Why are you wearing headphones?”
He paused, was he really asking that? He blinked, “Why do you want to know?”
“Are you listening to music?”
He looked around the room as if someone might’ve been pranking him, “No?”
“Then why wear them?” Scar asked, leaning forward into the aisle to talk closer to him.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged, trying to play off the outfit choice. He didn’t want to explain what happened, he really didn’t want to talk about any of it. Especially not to this random kid.
“Are you blocking out the noise?”
“No.” He said again.
“So why are you wearing them?” Scar asked, smirking.
He shifted, thinking for a moment. He looked down at the boy’s shoes. His laces were tied tightly and almost perfectly, with the edges tucked into the sneakers. As if he was scared he’d trip on them. He sighed, “Why are your shoes tied?”
Scar was quieted for a moment, and he finally thought he got him to stop talking before the other said, “Safety.”
He nodded, “There’s your answer.”
He turned back to the front, choosing to ignore the student next to him. He wasn’t going to involve himself in any more trouble with Sam. And he definitely wasn’t going to involve someone else with Sam.
“What?” Scar gawked.
“Shh.”
______________________
When the bell rang, he tried to leave as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to get caught behind Sam or Yuki. And he definitely didn’t want to get stuck next to the new boy, no matter how much his smile made his ears burn.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t quick enough. The herd of students blocked him by running out of the classroom as fast as they possibly could, and he wasn’t inclined to get trampled on today. Each time he tried to press through the crowd, another student would fill in the gap and he couldn’t find a way through.
He sighed once the last student had left the classroom, leaving him the last out.
“Hey!” He heard someone call from behind him, and he quickly realized, maybe he wasn’t as alone as he had thought. He flinched, turning around expecting to see Sam or Yuki, only to find Scar. He blinked, confused, why was this kid calling out for him. “Sorry,” He laughed, “I was wondering if you knew where this next class was?”
The brunet held out his schedule for him to see. He wasn’t sure if the boy wanted him to take the paper or not. He didn’t want to make the wrong choice. He chewed the inside of his cheek as he reached out a hand. Once his finger touched the edge of the page, Scar pushed it closer to him.
He took the paper, watching as Scar tried to hold all his things in his hands rather than packing them away in his bag. They nearly locked eyes again, and he felt his ears burn. He looked back down at the paper, “It’s the second door on the left.”
Scar seemed to let out a breath of relief, “Okay, good, thank you! I’d thank you more formally but I don’t exactly know your name.” Scar said, swaying on his feet.
He frowned, what did he answer? Should he tell the boy his name? Or should he just continue the lie? What would Sam think if he told him a different name?
My name is…
My name is...
He swallowed, shrugging to himself, as the words whispered out of him. It didn’t matter much what he said or what he didn’t say. No one was going to listen to him anyway.
Scar didn’t seem to catch the hint of how he stared at the ground, dejectedly, only grinning “Well, thank you very much, Taurtis!”
He flinched when the boy said the name, it felt so much worse coming from him. He nodded stiffly, and began walking away, hoping the boy would just leave him be now. He hadn’t even realized he was walking the same way he’d pointed the boy to go.
Scar followed him, matching his pace. He tried to ignore it, but there was some part of him that wanted to pull the other to the tile behind him so he was standing on the right one. While the other students could manage using the full floor, Taurtis was designated to only step on the second tile of the floor.
He continued to glare at his feet, trying his best to keep on the right tile and never stray too far off. He could feel the eyes on him, but he’d slowly gotten used to that over the years. He knew what it felt to be watched constantly. He knew how to look for the beings at the edges of his eyes that hid in the shadows. He didn’t need his classmates to stare for him to feel watched.
“Everyone is staring at you.” Scar whispered to him. He nodded slowly, he knew he was entertaining to watch. He knew his classmates got a kick out of seeing what Sam could and would do. He also knew that others only watched in terror. Knowing that one wrong move and they’d end up just like him. He was an omen. A story to tell others and scare them away from doing something out of line.
“Just ignore it.” He replied, quietly.
“But why? Why are they staring?” Scar asked, and how could he answer that? How did he explain that some people loved to watch someone fall from good graces? Scar paused by his next class’s door as if he was expecting him to stop and speak with him more.
He simply kept walking, he couldn’t risk pausing in his steps. Sam knew exactly how many steps it took him to make it from one class to the next. He couldn’t risk his time on talking to this new kid…no matter how much he wanted to.
As he kept walking, leaving Scar at his classroom. He quickly ran into Ellen, just as he did every day at the exact same time in the exact same place.
Ellen stared at him, eyes softening from a harsh glare into something pitiful and sad. They sighed, stepping beside him on the third tile. They kept their pace exactly the same so they wouldn’t waste any time.
“Have you seen him?” Ellen asked, quietly.
“Who?” He asked, “Sam? Yes, he’s in my first period.”
Ellen shook their head, “No, the new one. Scar or something like that.”
He nodded again, giving a small hum. “I saw him.”
“Good.” Ellen said, relaxing some. They stopped, something they never did. They grabbed his arm before he could walk off anymore. A golden eye stared directly into his dark ones and he could already tell Ellen was looking into his future.
Ellen was a psychic or at least, that’s what they told everyone. It hadn’t been proven, unless you counted the time they read Taurtis’ future and said bad things were coming. He wasn’t sure what he believed in or not, but it didn’t matter much. Ellen believed it and he trusted Ellen.
“This is our chance.” Ellen whispered, carefully, moving so they were in his eyesight even as he tried to avoid eye contact. He looked away again, not wanting Ellen to see the tears forming in his eyes. Ellen had said this many times. They claimed they had a chance to get out…but it never managed to work.
“Ellen…” He muttered, shuddering.
“I’m serious this time.” Ellen tried, grabbing both of his arms to keep him in place. “I know I’ve said it a lot, but I know I’m right this time. He’s our ticket out. Trust me, please. I’ll figure it out. I will. I’ll fix this.”
He shook his head, “No matter how much you promise, you can’t change what’s happened. You can’t bring Taurtis back. You can’t save Gareth. You can’t fix Sam. You can’t save us. You shouldn’t be worried about this, you should focus on yourself.” He sighed, never meeting their eyes.
“I might not be able to do that, but I can at least get you home.” Ellen swore, “Just let me try. You won’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You leave it to me, Salex, J and Dom. We’ll get you out of here.”
“You’ll only end up hurting yourselves.” He tried to reason, shaking his head.
“We’ll be secretive. We’ll-We’ll lead him to the answers. He just has to ask the questions. Sam won’t be able to trace it back to us.” Ellen promised again, they moved the purple hair from over their eye, revealing the nasty scar that laid underneath.
The scar he remembered Sam giving them. The same day Sam killed their father.
“I swear it.”
They dropped the hair back over their eye, and he swallowed.
He sighed, “I need to get back to Sam before he realizes I’ve been gone too long.” He shrugged out of Ellen’s grip and began walking. This time however, he picked up the pace, trying to regain the time he’d lost.
He entered the classroom, shaky and breathing harshly, before he sat down next to Sam. Sam looked over at him, eyes darting up and down, before he sneered, “You’re late.”
He swallowed, “I had to help the new kid find his classroom.”
Sam huffed, crossing his arm. “He would’ve been fine on his own.”
“I’m sorry.” He apologized.
_________________________________________________
He sank below the tree trunk, burying himself into the dirt. He pulled out his sketchbook from his bag, flipping to one of the later pages. His sketches were one of the last things he had control over. He could draw whatever he wanted inside, even though he normally chose to just draw buildings and ideas.
He couldn’t remember a lot about where he’d gotten the sketchbook. He knew it was from someone important to him. He knew that the parrot on the front meant something to him. It was well worn over the years, as one of the few things he always kept with him no matter where or what he was going through.
The front cover page was his only clue at whoever he’d gotten it from. A large M was written fancily under the word ‘from’, right below it was his own name. His real name. His long forgotten name. A name that had been scribbled over and scratched out as many times as he could manage.
He ignored it, turning to the page he wanted to work on. He flipped through pages finding older and older drawings that he no longer liked or just didn’t want to remember. He sat silently, marking the lines and deepening shadows as he drew.
He felt it when someone sat beside him. He didn’t look over, he wanted to pretend for just a moment that he knew who it was. He wanted to pretend that it was Taurtis. That he had somehow risen from his grave and sat beside him once again while he worked.
That dream was shot down when the person cleared their throat. He looked up to see Scar had sat beside…he swallowed. How lucky was he then… he sighed. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” Scar said, quickly and he turned back to his book.
He could just ignore him. He could just ignore him. He could just ignore him.
“You’re drawing.” Scar pointed out.
He flinched, looking over, “Yeah?”
“Sorry.” Scar apologized, he must have noticed his flinch. The brunet looked over his shoulder some more, eyeing the drawing he was working on. “You drew that.” Scar breathed out.
He shrugged, “Yeah, it’s old though.” It really wasn’t. He’d been working on the design for days, he just didn’t want to admit that.
“It’s amazing.” Scar stared, with a sparkle in his eyes that he found himself almost smiling at. “It almost looks real.”
He couldn’t help but smile a tad at the compliment. “Architecture’s been a…” What was it? What was it really to him? He knew he loved it. He knew he loved imagining buildings and castles and all sorts of structures. But it wasn’t a dream…no because he’d never be able to actually be an architect. It wasn’t a hobby…Taurtis didn’t have any hobbies like that. “I like drawing buildings.” He settled on.
He closed the sketchbook and set it down beside him, far enough away from Scar that he wouldn’t take the one thing he had left of his old life. He slid his legs up to his chest, curling into a ball as he watched Scar grin. He felt safer protecting his internal organs even if Scar hadn’t given him any reason not to trust him.
“Like an architect!” Scar announced, scooting closer as green eyes twinkled happily. He smirked, although he felt like there was weight connected to the edges of his mouth pulling it downwards.
“No, I mean-I couldn’t.” He sighed.
“Why not?” Scar asked, “I mean if all your drawings are like that, and you’ve got ideas, sounds like you’re halfway there anyway!” Scar grinned, he could tell he was an optimist.
He chuckled, “I’m pretty sure there’s more to it than that.” he sighed, “Besides, I’ve never really thought about what I wanted to do.” he wished he could imagine what his life would later become. At the moment he couldn’t focus on anything past the next hour. He leaned forward resting his head on his knees.
“Never?” Scar gasped, as if the thought repulsed him. He shook his head.
“Too much on my mind, I guess.” It was true, why think about anything past the next five minutes if you weren’t sure if you’d survive the next three? He turned to look at Scar, still confused as to why he would put himself in such a dangerous situation if he’d already come into contact with Sam once before. “Why do you keep talking to me?”
Scar smirked, nudging the other in the shoulder, “I mean, you’re the most interesting thing here.” He felt his eyes widen some as his cheeks burned, he was sure they changed color. Only the other didn’t point it out. “And I haven’t exactly talked to anyone else besides you and Ellen. Well she-”
“They.” He corrected, quickly.
Scar nodded, carefully, “Well, they seemed a bit indifferent to me.”
He smiled, remembering the first time he’d met Ellen. “That’s Ellen for you.” He sighed, “but if they only acted indifferent to you, then you must be a good person.” He told himself and Scar. Ellen didn’t just trust anybody. They were good at reading people. Ellen hated Sam and Yuki, and they were careful with who they talked to and made sure each person he was close to was safe. If Ellen wasn’t completely hating Scar's existence then he had to be a good person.
He let himself relax some, settling back into a sitting position.
“I’d hate to see how they act to people they don’t like then.” Scar chuckled.
He let out a breathy laugh, nodding, “Yeah, well then, Scar, right?” He asked, hoping he had gotten the boy’s name correctly. Scar nodded, and he let out a breath. “What’s there to you?”
“Sorry?” Scar asked.
He rolled his eyes to himself. “Tell me about yourself.”
“Oh!” Scar shouted, as if he’d finally realized something, “Well, I’m from Hermitville, it’s a town pretty close to here! There was that whole ‘exchange student’ program and I was the lucky student chosen.” Scar rambled.
He wouldn’t have called Scar a lucky student if he’d been chosen for this program. If anything he was extremely unlucky. From everything he had heard, Hermitville was a wonderful community. With lovely people, lovely homes and schools, it was just the perfect sunshiney place right next to this hellhole. Not to mention, he hadn’t heard a single thing be pressed about an exchange student program. None of their students had gone missing over the past few days, and he’d know that for sure.
“How long is it for?” He hoped it wasn’t long, he couldn’t bear to watch someone with so much talent and potential rot away in a school like this one.
Scar shrugged, “Trial run is for four weeks, but I’m pretty sure I'll get sent back sooner or later. What with my ‘accidents’ and all.” Scar laughed.
Accident?
No, Ellen was wrong.
Ellen was very wrong.
He froze. Sam called everything he did an accident. Halloween? An accident. Gareth? An accident. Him? An accident. He had promised himself he wouldn’t be a part of any more accidents.
He should’ve known better than to talk to this boy. He should never have stayed within a few feet of him. He should’ve ran off the moment someone sat next to him. This wasn’t Taurtis. Taurtis didn't make friends with Scar! Taurtis doesn’t even know who Scar is!
His mind was running in circles trying to make sense of the situation. This was a bad decision. He needed to get away. He had to run away before something happened. He stared at his fingers into the grass. He hadn’t realized he’d begun to pull out the blades of grass. His fingers covered in dirt, caking his nails.
“What-um-what kind of accidents?” He whispered, trying to pick the dirt out of his nails.
“I’m pretty clumsy, I guess.” Scar shrugged, he pulled out a handful of grass himself, for seemingly no reason.
Clumsy? Like dropping a knife or tripping into the knife? Was that what he’d meant by accidents?
He slouched, inwards, still trying to protect himself.
“It’s why my friends were so sure I was chosen to do this on purpose. I mean, get rid of the kid that blew up the redstone lab by accident, the one that let the vexes loose in the lunchroom, the one that falls down the stairs twice a day. I have never meant to do any of it, but it doesn’t stop. We have a saying there, ‘If it isn’t Scar-Safe, don’t do it!’” Scar claimed, proudly with a large grin.
He blinked, had he really done all that? What in the world was redstone? What were vexes? He’d blown something up?! And he spoke like it was simply so normal! So normal, in fact, his school just accepted it and moved on?
“Scar-Safe, huh?” He asked, horrified.
“Yup.” Scar nodded, “One of these days, I’ll end up with a broken bone and the school will send me straight back where I came from.”
He was silent, he knew the other had no idea just how wrong and right he had been in that sentence. The burning ache in his own old wounds proved just as much. He wondered if he should just tell the boy to run away. Just tell him to hop on the closest bus back to his wonderful town. It wouldn’t be a good idea though, that was one of the rules. Never involve yourself in someone else’s story. Sam had a specific way he liked to play. Messing with someone else’s story only messed with the game Sam had set up.
The bell rang, interrupting his thoughts. His heart jumped, forgetting how loud and shrill the noise was. He stood up slowly, offering a hand out to the taller, “maybe you should take that offer.”
Scar stood up taking his hand. Once the other was standing, he dropped his hand and began walking towards the school. “We have gym class next. I saw it on your schedule.” He said, nodding towards the school. Scar followed him quickly, following in his pace easily once again.
He managed to lose Scar in the clutter of students as they prepared for gym class. He had hoped he’d be able to do so. He grabbed clothes, heading away from the crowd and towards Rowan’s office.
He was always grateful for Rowan’s kindness towards him, even if he didn’t deserve it. He knocked on the door of Rowan’s office once all the students had left the gym hall.
The door opened revealing the coach, he sighed at seeing him and allowed him in.
“Thank you.” He whispered, moving towards the back closet where he could change privately without anyone watching.
Rowan nodded, moving back to his desk and chair, “I heard about the new one.”
He nodded, even if Rowan couldn’t see him. He paused, allowing himself to look in the mirror that was hidden away in the closet. He hated how many scars were still trailing on his body even after so many years. He hated how many brands and words he could make out even after years of healing.
“What’s he like?” Rowan asked, knowing the only way to get anything out of him was with open ended questions.
“I’m not sure, yet. Ellen trusts him.” He whispered, tracing over a scar left right under his chin from a horrible night with Ellen and Sam.
“You don’t?” Rowan asked, acting as if he couldn’t be bothered by the subject while he knew the truth.
He scoffed, shaking his head, after he had pulled the shirt over his head. “How am I supposed to trust anyone? I’ve known him for like five minutes! I’m not like Ellen, I don’t have all that mind reading-future telling-whatever it is they do.” He huffed, tying up his shoes tightly.
Rowan hummed in response, going quiet as he walked back out of the closet. He stared at the other for a second longer, inspecting how he looked. He raised his eyebrow when he saw the bags deepening underneath the boy’s eyes.
“Did you eat?” Rowan asked, looking away from the kid and back to his desk.
He swallowed, “I had something earlier.” He lied. Rowan didn’t need to know the truth, there was no point in telling the coach. He’d end up doing the same thing anyway. There was no way he was going to stomach anything anytime soon.
Rowan was still quiet, but he slowly nodded as if he already knew he was lying. He sighed, making his way to the door out of the office. He exited the office quickly before Rowan could call him out on the lie and force him to sit down.
He tried to cross the length of the gym without looking too out of place, as the other students began to line up stretching. He always hated this part, walking across the gym as everyone watched him exit the office. He was never comfortable with eyes on him, especially so many, he’d learned how to deal with it, but over the years it would only increase his paranoia.
He dared to look behind him, just enough to see Rowan’s expression. He was frowning and from what he could see behind his eyes, he knew the truth from his prior remark.
He sighed, standing beside Scar. He may not trust the guy but he didn’t want the poor guy to go through his first gym with Rowan alone. That would be just cruel.
“You ready?” He asked, earning a nod from Scar. Although, it looked as if the other was staring off into space, thinking about something. The dopey smile on his face stared at the other, so much he was sure he had to have something on his face. Still he let out a breath, joining the others in stretching, “Good.”
He could still feel Scar’s eyes on him as he continued to prepare for the laps Rowan would have them do. He stopped himself from smacking the other in the arm or telling him off, telling himself the other was just crazy.
He didn’t have to think much about Scar’s watchful gaze because Rowan was soon shouting orders, “Alright! I hear we got a newbie here! Where is he?” He shouted, walking up to him and Scar. Somehow, Rowan managed to sense the confusion he was feeling, seeing where Scar’s attention was. Rowan rolled his eyes, as he let out a stressed chuckle, “You paying attention, boy?”
Scar suddenly snapped forward, a grin present on his face, “Yeah!”
He couldn’t help but let out a genuine laugh at that, as Rowan ignored him.
“Well, you listen here. You call me Rowan, it ain’t coach. It ain’t mister nothing. It’s Rowan.” He went through the normal introduction, “Now, just because you’re a newbie don’t mean I’m going easy on you. You’re held to the same expectation as everyone else in here. Don’t fool ‘round, do what I say and we’ll be hunky-dorey.”
He cringed, since when did Rowan say ‘hunky-dorey’. Still Scar grinned, rolling back and forth on his feet, happily, “I like the sound of that!”
He blinked confused, there was nothing about this kid that made sense.
Rowan shook his head, “Right! You all know the drill, do a lap round the gym,” He blew the whistle like a threat, “Go!”
And he ran.
It was the one thing he knew he was good at.
He had to be good at it.
He passed Scar and the rest of his classmates, hearing in the back of the gym as Rowan shouted, “Get going, Newbie!”
He ignored it. He would need to be quicker on his feet if he wanted to make it anywhere. He hoped the kid would manage alright in the end, he couldn’t bear the thought that some poor unlucky kid got their life ruined because they switched schools.
He put the situation behind him, literally and figuratively, as he started to push himself to run faster. He could do this. All he had to do was empty his mind of everything, and just run. The only thing on his mind was the idea of something right on the edge of his heels. The only way to get rid of it was to run faster, to get farther, and to get there quicker.
He didn’t pay attention to when he had finished the lap, just kept running. There would be another blow of the whistle and everyone would join him eventually. It was never just one lap. Ten maybe, twenty on a bad day. The only way to get better was to run faster, and the only way to get faster was to keep running.
The shouted words Rowan yelled out began to drown out among the screaming in his head. He didn’t need Rowan’s calls to make his feet run again. He had another word playing in his head over and over again, one that was screamed at him by multiple people–multiple times. They always replayed in his mind as he ran, pushing him harder. They kept him going, kept him running.
A constant stream of screams…
“RUN!”
“RUN!”
“RUN!”
“RUN!”
All called by people as they tried to survive against the thing that was chasing them all. The ghosts and spirits, just on his heels, pushing him along.
It was only when he turned to look behind him that he slowed down, seeing Scar had managed to catch up. He heard the other mutter something under his breath, just barely managing to slip past the screams in his mind.
“You alright?” He called, wondering just how loud his voice was, because he could barely hear it over the voices in his mind.
“Just great!” The other huffed, before looking back at him, “How much longer are we going with this?”
He smiled at the boy’s optimism, “Depends on if you can pick up the pace.” He pushed forward, swallowing back the bile that tried to crawl up his throat. That was always the problem with running without food in his stomach.
It typically drove him to the point of exhaustion and nausea.
Luckily, Rowan seemed to take notice of the green tint growing along the edges of his cheeks, calling, “Take five!”
He nearly fell to the ground then, his knees buckling underneath him. He forced himself back up, looking around at his friends calming themselves back down and trying to regain their breath. The one person he didn’t see was Scar.
He finally managed to find him, and he walked over to the boy, tapping him on the shoulder, “Still doing great?” He asked, he hoped his voice didn’t sound as raspy as he thought it did.
Scar only let out a huff, “How can you guys run like that?”
He shrugged, “Practice. What? Do you not run during gym?”
“I mean sure, but not like that!” He recounted, “I mean seriously, you barely slowed up!” His voice was so loud that just about everyone could hear him. He flinched, wondering if the other knew the hidden threat that laid underneath his comment. Running was a survival instinct, they had no choice but to be good at it. Slowing down was a weakness that Rowan had churned out with years of hard work.
He could feel the eyes on his back as his classmates and friends heard the comments themselves. None of them jumped into the conversation, keeping to their hidden corners of the gym as they calmed down. He cringed, hoping the attention would fall apart if he ignored it.
“Yeah, can’t slow down for a second.” He tried to keep his voice light, hoping it sent the right message to the others, “It might get ‘cha if you do that.”
Scar rolled his eyes, nodding, “Yeah,” He murmured, sarcastically, “Just tell me now, is there more running involved?” He asked, with a breathy laugh and grin.
He smiled, tiredly. He knew first hand how difficult it could be to keep pushing himself. He knew just as much how hard it was to be dropped into the routine that his classmates had practiced for years. It was no surprise to him that the boy’s legs were shaking under him and hoping for the next bell ring.
He snuck a single glance over to Rowan, who was keeping a close eye on the blond. Once his eyes met his, he was greeted with a small nod as the man turned away. He smiled back at Scar, “Nah, we’re done running for today.”
“What is next then?” Scar asked, a tilt in his voice.
He hummed, shrugging, “Depends on how Rowan feels. If he’s in a bad mood– well, let’s hope he’s not.”
Rowan was a sticky person to get to know, he knew that, but over the years he’d learned a few things. Rowan was just as susceptible to Sam’s charades as they were. Rowan had been just as torn apart by the younger as any of his classmates had. But still, Rowan made it his job to keep them as safe as possible. It may not look like it to some of the students, but he had seen sides to the coach that no one else had. He knew that on bad days, Rowan was going to make it harder on them, not because he hated them, but because he knew the risks. On good days, Rowan would be easier, self-defense would be an option, as if he was giving them hope in fighting against Sam.
Even when he knew there was none left.
Scar jumped when Rowan blew the whistle once more, and all he could catch was a glimpse of bright colors flying by his head. He nearly didn’t have time to move out of the way before the ball hit him, he was lucky enough to be just to the right of the ball.
“Dodgeball! Let’s go! Move it!” Rowan shouted, shoving colorful rubber balls into the kid’s hands as he passed them.
He sighed, earning a confused look from Scar, “Bad mood it is.”
“Why is this a bad mood?” Scar asked, and before he could manage to get a word out to him the boy was pelted in the face with a ball. He seethed through his teeth as he watched the boy get knocked off his feet. He tossed a glare over to Rowan, who only shrugged.
Scar snapped up from the floor, looking around confused, “What the heck!”
“You’re out, Newbie!” Rowan shouted over the cries of other children as they were either hit or trying to dodge out of the way. Scar grimaced, glaring at the man and he could only sigh.
He bent down, offering a hand to the brunet, “Don’t take it personally. Absolute menace, he is.” He grinned, cheekily.
“A heads up next time might be nice.” Scar muttered glaring at him. He winced, hoping the glare hadn’t been directed at him completely.
The game didn’t last much longer, and he was sure he’d end up with an extra bruise somewhere. When Scar finally managed to make it back into the game, he was quick to try and hide behind other players. He laughed to himself as he watched Scar sneakily try to get behind him each time. He didn’t care much, rolling his eyes and going along with it.
It wasn’t long until they came across a familiar face though.
“Watch the glasses!” J shouted, as he tried to land a hit on Dom, who had been aiming for him repeatedly on purpose. The two had a constant rivalry going on, but it was all in good taste and good fun. At least, he hoped. He was sure he would catch the two arguing about the fairness of the game later on, and he was sure J would be upset with the hit Dom managed to get a second later.
“Is this how all your gym classes go?” Scar asked from behind him, as he watched J anxiously.
He let out a sigh, “Just about,” He grabbed a ball moving closer to J, “J duck!” He shouted, and J was quick to drop to the ground without even looking behind him. He was lucky his friends trusted him that much to blindly follow what he said…well sometimes they did. Other times they had a mind of their own. He managed to get Dom out from the hit, earning a groan and a middle finger from the boy.
“This violent?” Scar asked, ducking behind his shoulder.
“I mean what do you do?” J jumped in hearing the question.
Scar scoffed, “I mean, we play tag! False has been leading the softball team for a while. Or sometimes we fence, just whatever we’d like. So long as we’re moving it’s alright.” Scar yelped, jumping out of the way as he moved too fast. “It’s never this violent.”
He wondered for a second about how that might’ve worked. He thought for just a moment about what he’d choose to do if he could. It sounded interesting. He wondered what this softball thing was that Scar mentioned. And who this False might be…his curiosity was cut off by J shoving him to the side and throwing another ball.
“That’s not gym class, that’s for babies.”
He huffed, “J be nice.” He chided, knocking the other on the head and turning back to Scar. “I guess we’re just used to this?” He tried to smile at Scar, but his eyes trailed over his shoulder to the door.
He felt his heart drop into his stomach. The doors into the gym had windows, they were a perfect way to make sure no one was walking into something possibly dangerous. But they were also a way to see what was outside the gym. He felt his face pale and his frown slip back into place as he saw the white bunny ears take over the window pane.
Sam glowered at him, with crossed arms and sharp grimace. He met the boy’s gaze, being met with a nod of the head towards the door and an even deeper glare towards Scar. He sighed, trying to offer a smile to Scar.
“I’ve got to go,” was all he managed to get out as his throat felt like it was closing in. His fingers flexed and dropped the ball he held.
Scar furrowed his brow, “What do you mean?” He swallowed, taking a quick step away. He shook his head, turning to J. The other boy had paused in his movements, too, staring at the doorway where he could see Sam waiting.
He looked between Scar and J, sending a silent message to the boy to look out for the brunet. J slowed in his movements until he relented and nodded. He gave the boy a silent thank you, before he was turning back to Scar.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered, before walking past the boy.
“Hey, where are you going?” Scar was already rushing behind him to follow.
He frowned, turning back sharply, “Go back to the game, Scar, I’ve got to go.”
“Can I come?” Scar asked, almost like an excited child about to enter a candy store. Only he knew the candy was poisoned.
“No.” He said without hesitation.
“Why not?” Scar pouted.
He bit his lip, feeling Sam’s stare darkening even if he didn’t see him. “You just can’t. I’m sorry.”
“But if you skip, you’ll get in trouble, right?” Scar pressed on.
And if I stay any longer, we’ll both be as good as dead.
“It’s complicated.” He decided on instead. He turned on his heels, not letting Scar keep him any longer. “I’ll see you at lunch.”
He didn’t hear Scar try to stop him again. He even managed to make it out of the gym without any interruptions. Something that caused him about as much irritation as it would have if he had been stopped.
But now he was stuck standing next to Sam and Yuki outside of the principal’s office.
Another thing he hated doing.
Sam groaned, his foot tapping rapidly on the ground, “Can this dude take any longer?!”
He knew better than to say anything in response. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and watched the window next to the receptionist.
“I can’t believe you were actually talking to that guy, Taurtis.” Sam grumbled, “He looks like such an idiot. You seemed pretty close to him, actually, you’re not like–becoming friends without me, right?” Sam asked, nudging him in the arm, “Because that would just be rude. Super unfair, man. We’re supposed to share, you know, friends share, Taurtis.”
“He just needed some help.” He mumbled, hoping Sam would let the topic go.
“Yeah, sure, ‘needed some help’. He’s probably just trying to get in your pants.” Sam shrugged, as if the topic didn’t matter to him.
He flinched, glaring at the other just out of his eyesight. “Stop it Sam.”
“What!” Sam shouted, offended, “I’m not doing anything! I’m just saying that it’s a little suspicious. I mean, this guy shows up and all of a sudden starts trying to be friends with you? I mean when has that ever happened before…” Sam paused, waiting for an answer, “Never! No one would want to be your friend unless they had some kind of motive. And I bet that’s what it is! Right, Yuki?”
Yuki didn’t look up from her nails.
“Yuki agrees with me.” Sam decided for them.
He shifted on his feet, “Can we talk about something else, Sam?”
“We could…” Sam shrugged, nonchalantly, before shouting, “If this damn principal would open the DOOR!”
He flinched at the sudden shout, his shoulders rising to his ears. He winced, as Sam seethed next to him, his hands gripping his arms so tightly his knuckles turned white.
The door swung open, sharply, revealing the purple robed principal. He ducked his head down on instinct, keeping his eyes to his feet as Sam spoke. He hated the principal. Sam and him seemed like best friends, but there was always something that prodded him the wrong way about the man. In fact, he’d never even managed to look at the guy’s face.
Every time he'd come in contact with the principal he kept his eyes to the ground. The purple suit and robe he wore brought back memories that he’d tried to forget. His friends had described the man to him, sure, but he’d never seen him in person.
“What do you want, Sam?” The principal asked, sharply.
Sam grinned, “Finally! I was starting to wonder if you were dead, princ-ee.” Sam giggled to himself, before walking forwards. He grabbed hold of his arm, nails digging into his skin as he dragged him into the office. He brushed past the principal in one swoop, and Yuki followed behind. Her head held high.
The principal grimaced, and shut the door behind them.
“What is it now, Sam?”
Sam hummed to himself, dragging him over to the chairs in front of the desk. He pushed him on the shoulders into one of the chairs, rounding behind him. Sam held him in place as Yuki sat in the second chair. Her legs crossed, she looked around the office boredly as Sam spoke.
He shifted uncomfortably, trying to keep his eyes on his feet as he felt Sam’s grip on his shoulders tighten and sting.
“I just want to talk about the newbie.” Sam said, sweetly, “He’s just a tiny bit of a problem, you see, he’s running around talking to everyone. And well, my good friend Taurtis, here, is getting a bit close to him.”
“And what do you want me to do about that?” The principal asked, as he heard his chair squeak as he sat back down.
“Well, the way I see it…we’ve got two options!” Sam laughed, “Either, we say bye-bye to Scar-y boy, or we remind Taurtis, here, about who his friends are.”
He flinched into the chair as Sam patted his shoulder. So that had been what this was about, he thought.
“And you came to me, because…” The principal trailed off.
He could almost hear the moment Sam snapped. He could feel how his grip on his shoulders tightened and stabbed into his arm.
“I don’t like him!” Sam snapped, “I want him gone! He’s going to mess everything up! I want him out! I want him out! He’s already messing things up!” Sam’s tantrum only grew louder as he stomped his foot on the ground, and balled his fist before punching into the shorter's shoulder. He winced at the punch.
The principal sighed, “Well, I hate to tell you, Sam, but we need him here. It’s either we keep him here for a month, gain a few good connections and things go back to normal or…things fall apart and your little playtime is over. So I’d suggest you get used to it!” The principal barked back.
He tried his best to shrink away from the harsh tones that came from either side of him.
“Just think of it this way, Sam,” The principal sighed, “You’ve got a new toy. Why don’t you see how it dances?” They were silent for a moment, “And if you’re really worried about Taurtis here, you can always turn him over to me.”
He wanted to run. He wanted to run so badly. His mind was screaming at him to get out, but his legs were frozen underneath him. Sam’s grip was too tight and he could feel the burning in his eyes. He squinted his eyes shut, hoping the tears wouldn’t come out until he was free from the prison.
“No!” Sam screeched, his arms reaching around him and hugging him tightly. He yelped at the sudden hug he received, squirming to himself as he tried to get out of the grip. “You can’t have Taurtis!”
“Then get out of my office.” The principal seethed, as the bell screeched over his words.
He frowned, realizing he'd missed lunch.