Chapter Text
DAY ONE
Wednesday, December 2nd
The bell rang out, and Mr.Enjin let out a sigh while his students packed their bags minutes before the bell rang. “Class dismissed.” He said, and the students rushed out of the classroom, a pair of girls intertwining their hands, another group yapping about seeing a movie this Friday. Usually, Rudo would be like them, out of the class in an instant.
Though today was different, since it was his last. He awoke this morning, checked his calendar, and his shoulders slumped, noting that the calendar had ended today. Long ago, he ripped out the months that came after, leaving crumbled paper torn up on the floor. A floor that he promised he would clean last week.
Well, it doesn’t matter. He was going to do it today, no more pushbacks, no more excuses. He repeated in his mind as he made it to the doorway of the classroom. Until a voice called out behind him.
“Rudo, stay back a moment, will you?” Enjin sighed. Rudo stopped in his tracks and raised a brow; did he do something wrong? When the class had fully emptied itself, Enjin sat back down at his desk, urging Rudo to join him. A stack of papers lay spread out on his desk, and Enjin huffed at the big ‘F’ on Rudo’s latest test paper.
Right, he butchered that test.
“Seriously, kid… I’m not expecting anything crazy, but an ‘F’ is unusual—even for you.”
Rudo awkwardly nodded; he wasn’t amazing at academics, but he never failed terribly either. His report cards were usually littered with ‘C's’ and the occasional B if motivated enough. Nothing wild, but it was acceptable.
But I mean, when you’ve given up, grades don’t matter, do they?
Enjin took notice of this silence and ran a hand through his hair. Rudo felt a sting of shame; Enjin was one of the few teachers who actually cared about his students. Other teachers taught with monotone voices and stuck to a broad way of teaching. Enjin wasn’t like that; he bothered to personalize his lessons for struggling students. And he was funny too, making him a favourite among students. For Rudo to disappoint him like that… It made him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.
“Okay, I get that the kids around here don’t make learning easy, okay? You’re still mourning him-“
“Don’t.”
Rudo tore his eyes away from the ground, glaring at Enjin, whose brows furrowed.
“Just don’t,” he muttered.
“Alright, we don’t have to talk about him, but what I mean to say is,”
He put his hand on Rudo’s tensed shoulder, squeezing gently like a father would. “My door’s open if you want to talk, kay’?” his tone softened, surprising Rudo since Enjin had always been a let-me-get-straight-to-the-point kind of guy.
“I know that, I do, but I’m fine.” Rudo said, standing abruptly and grabbing his bag. He waved Enjin goodbye and left before the other could continue what he was saying.
***
Rudo loved hanging out on the rooftop.
Don’t get him wrong; he had good people around him. However, his classmates were not those people. They seemed to enjoy reminding him that a criminal’s blood flows through him. There were a few people whom he could tolerate; the school president Zanka, his good friend Riyo, his favourite teacher Enjin, hell, even Jabber made good company sometimes, when he was high on whatever substance he mixed up in Chemistry. (Rudo found out that the thrill-seeking guy got oddly philosophical when high.)
It just wasn’t enough. And it left a burning rage in his heart that made him dig his nails into his own hands.
So, here he stood with his shoes off, his written note in the bag beside him, his gloves hidden safely in his locker, and a railing before him.
Graffiti covered the town, while billboards of various singers and neon lights blended into a blur of colours. It was a shit town, and he had originally promised to get the hell out of this shithole and start anew in the city.
One where he wouldn’t be remembered by his dad.
Rudo’s anxiety spiked as he peered down, his hands shook violently against the unstable railings.
Think of the lights, the lights have the colours: red, green, blue, pink, orange.
Red was like Riyo’s hair when she did it in her usual braids. Rudo always thought she looked pretty when she did her hair like that. Her carefree attitude felt like a breath of fresh air to him.
Green like the green lights on the traffic lights, when Zanka would drive them to the mall to skip class. He was always a safe-driver, a prick, but he cared enough about Rudo to remind him to wear his seatbelt or buy him the desserts he never got to try until he started to hangout with him.
Blue like the sky, or the ocean that Regto took him to when he was raising him. He was more of a father to Rudo than his biological father. He’d be the one to give him his gloves. Even when it got hard, (Rudo was a problem-child) Regto never gave up on him.
And he paid for that.
His fingers clutched the railings tight. He leaned forward enough that he felt his stomach drop, and he quickly stepped back.
What am I doing?
Pink, oh hell. He didn’t know. The bubblegum Fu would chew to cope with his anxiety in class. It pissed the absolute shit out of Rudo, but at least Fu would share it with him whenever he was nervous for a test.
The colour orange, orange, orange… Orange like the bow on the bright-eyed girl who stood next to him.
Huh?
Her face was round and bandaged. She wore the same school uniform as Rudo did, and she wore a yellow cardigan large enough to hide her small frame.
Her overgrown bangs were close enough that they tickled the side of his cheek. She seemed roughed up, but still beamed at him with a mellow voice.
“Are you here to do the same thing Amo wanted to?” She asked with an odd smile on her face. It was a grim smile, but then again, Rudo didn’t get to judge. Smiling was something he had to practice, too.
Rudo flinched backwards with a stumble, letting out a loud ‘Ouch!’ which earned him a giggle from above him. “Hehe, did Amo scare you? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
Seriously, what is up with this girl? Why was her face so bruised, and why did she keep referring to herself in third-person? Now that he looked closer, he spotted the red, irritated skin peeking underneath her sleeve.
Amo followed his eyes and quickly tucked her sleeves over her wrists. Keeping her smile up, but her lips seemed to hold each other tighter.
Touchy subject, I should pretend I didn’t see anything.
“Uh, no worries, you didn’t scare me…” he scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t expect anyone to be here. Most of the school had already emptied itself out; doesn’t this girl have a home to go back to?
Nevermind, it was best he cleared the situation up before it escalated. “What you saw just now-“
Amo tilted her head, “You trying to die?”
Rudo tensed up at the remark, and Amo’s eyes softened.
“It’s okay, Amo won’t say anything to anyone!” she giggled, putting her pinky up in a silent promise. “Unless you want me to, after all, you and Amo are the same.” She rocked her head side-to-side in glee.
He cocked his head. “What do you mean we’re the same? What are you on about?“
“Amo wants to disappear too,” she let out a shaky sigh, her smile dropping for a split second before reappearing like a ghost. “But you got here at the same time as Amo did, so now it’s ruined!” she groaned out, dragging the last word like a child. The other could only watch as she crouched down slowly,
“If you don’t want Amo to tell anyone,” she raised her pinky up again. It was skinny and frail, yet she held it up with confidence.
“Promise her you’ll be her friend, only until Friday!”
The other felt unsure what to think of her. This was the weirdest way a girl had ever approached him. If they approached him at all.
Honestly, he should sucker-punch her in the face right now for trying to blackmail him into a friendship. Yet an uncontrollable feeling welled up within him at the friendly act, and it made him slowly raise his pinky in an unsure dilemma, before hesitantly intertwining with hers.
It’s just until Friday. He told himself. She’s probably just a loner who wants company.
After this last act of…friendship, he could finally die.
And maybe, just maybe, he could help her out. The girl before him clearly wasn’t in the right mind. Regto used to say that he should help others out.
Even with these hands of his.
He let out a deep breath, and made eye-contact with her.
“When you said that we were the same, what did you mean?”