Chapter Text
academic weapon (plural academic weapons)
An individual (typically a student) that acquires traits that are seen by many as scholarly.
An exceptionally productive and diligent student.
It was raining that day.
A somber gray decorated the sky, cascading the above in a gloomy darkness. The rain drummed on his umbrella, a constant reminder of the dreary day ahead.
A few people hurried along the sidewalks, pulling up hoods and clutching umbrellas in cramped hands, their hurried footsteeps splashing through puddles along the pavement.
The world around him was shrouded in a gray haze, the vibrant colors muted by the relentless downpour.
The sound of water splashing against the pavement filled the air, drowning out the usual hum of activity that accompanied the morning rush.
He kicked a pebble into a drain along the curb, watching it disappear. The drops feel onto the concrete, almost like a beat of nature, a rhythm of the wet hitting the rock hard bottom.
It sounded like a clock, seconds ticking down with every passing fleeting moment
He rounded the same corner as everyday, the same middle aged men in business attire crossing his way, hurrying along with busy steps.
He watched him thoroughly as the man stretched out his left arm to eye his silver casio wristwatch.
He knew it was 8.05.
As he went out of his vision, he noticed his furrowed brows, the crease in his skin, the tired slouch in his step. His hair was slightly unkempt, but half heartily combed to one side.
He was screaming neatness, even though his suit was unironed, showing signs of pulled threads.
Nothing has changed since yesterday.
Every second day he would change his tie. Today a deep purple color was decorating his neckline.
He liked the blue one more.
Sometimes he would wonder if the man had kids that would wait late night for their father to come home and read them a bedtime story, even if he maybe needed one himself.
Or maybe he was living with his wife in a loft apartment, a beautiful view of the city greeting them every morning, the early sunrays waking them with a golden flooded polished floor.
Or maybe he lived alone.
He never dwelled on this thought for too long.
He clutched onto the strap of his heavy backpack, hooking his thumb beneath the thick material.
He counted his steps as he jumped over the cracks in the year old cement, counting the same three paw imprints a confused dog must have left in the freshly concreted ground a long time ago.
Some may found it unsatisfying, the three misshaped forms in the smooth concret.
He thought it told a story.
He knew for sure something would be missing if they weren't there, there for him to count every morning even though he knew the number by heart.
He rounded the last corner, the large but familiar building coming into view.
The rain was hitting his umbrella in the same pattern as always, he counted 49 steps up the red-brick stairs as always. He would notice the same slight humming flooding the floors, a morning hustle of sleepiness and anticipation for the day ahead. He was greeted by the same dusty air as always, smelling like the usual stingy floor cleaner reeking of high percentage alcohol.
Not that it would change.
"I'll be handing out the graded exams"
Collective groans made their way through class, the daily listlessness creeping through the walls.
Everyone dreaded this words, an unfortunate event that could either ruin your day or be a mood boost for the following time at least.
"I think I flicked that one", a grunt was heard beside him, dripping with uncertainty overplayed by his usual cockiness.
Jake turned his head to the interrupting voice, chuckling slightly at Jay's disheveled state, a small simper grazing his lips.
He locked his wandering eyes onto the other, watching him squirm in his seat out of nervousness.
His left thumb was scratching slightly on his index finger, a habit the other kept since middle school.
Even though Jay built up a facade of ultimate strength and 'coolness', how he liked to call it, he knew, that deep down the others heart was thumping a million miles per minute.
"I'm sure it'll turn out better than you expected", he tried to reassure half heartily.
"Easy for you to say", was the grumbled response, the other burrying his head in the thick sweater fabric hugging his arms.
Jake chose to let him be, retreating to resting his chin on the palm of his hand, letting his gaze wander over the raindrops racing down the window. They created a crystalline trace on the foggy glass, allowing a few glances at the misty outside.
Clouds were chasing eachother in the somber sky, like a steamy game of playing catch. He imagined them to be small grade students, taking advantage of the five minute breaks, cherishing their childhood, before they needed to return to being a little more grown up than they wanted to be, locked away in a classroom between simple mathematics.
For them it might seem to be one of the biggest challenges.
Oh how they just couldn't wait to grow up.
He snapped out of his thoughts, lightly shaking his head a bit in an attempt to scurry his train of thoughts out of the railway station called 'his brain'.
Another rain drop trickled down the glass barrier.
He could almost smell the scent of petrichor that was filling his clouded mind on his earlier journey to school.
Even though he waited for early sunrays to break through the thick clouding, a change of weather that would get lost of the discomfort and spinning thoughts, he somehow found solace in the weather.
He pulled the paws of his fuzzy black sweater over his freezing palms, rubbing his fingers together in hope of some warmth in this ice cold weather.
"Sim Jaeyun", his train of thoughts was rudely interrupted by the tone of his teacher, tapping onto the wooden surface of his desk a few times to gain his attention.
He retreated his gaze to look at the presence in front of him, towering over his figure.
He couldn't read his expression, as the other raised an eyebrow.
"Well done"
A piece of scribbled paper was pushed into his line of sight, a dark red "A" circled in the right corner. He looked up to meet his teachers nodded knowing gaze with a tight lipped smile and a small bow.
As the teacher continued his path through the labyrinth of student's desks, he mustered the graded paper with a neutral stare, before he shoved it into the depth of his grey rucksack.
"As always", he was met with a slight nudge to his right shoulder, a playful undertone present in his friends voice. He could imagine the smug expression on the others face, but didn't turn to witness it.
He only let out a small chuckle, serving as a nonverbal reply.
He never dreaded two words as much.