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O For Offhandedly

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How in the name of Lord Explosion Murder did that happen?

America explain!

He stared through his water-stained window, the stars seemed to stare back at him through the ancient glass. The school day was over and he was staring out at the broken moon and the glowing dots in the inky black paper that is the sky.

The world is too big. He can't see it all in one glance, but he can see Kanashi. She's sleeping soundly on his torn mattress, curled in a fetal position and vacuuming the blanket into her grasp.

Today had been the same, the beating was nonexistent though, it was a rare occurrence when that happened. It was an anomaly when his cuts finally healed to scars and his purple bruises faded to a blush in his back and the the rest of him. The only bothersome part was that he had to bandage Kanashi, her arms were red lumps sticking from the sides of her torso and her skin was paper white. She slept on his bed and he slept on the floor, it was only fair, after all.

He went to sleep, glowing dots dancing in his vision. He did not frown.

His lips are moved from their horizontal pose and tilted into a lopsided form.

_

It was only second period, but Atsu felt he'd rather be home. His head hurt from the cramming his teacher is forcing on his class and lack of sleep. The world seemed to spin around him wildly, and his back aches, he wants to bang his head into a wall. He shouldn't have slept on the floor, but he had to care. He just— it was frustrating to him. His eyes were fuzzy as he looked at the words if front of his eyes. He did well in his subjects, so all he had to do was improve, he was in A-class up until last year, when he had to start taking care of Kanashi. But that was fine. Everything is fine, the world will crumble and he will turn to dust and it will all be perfectly good and well.

He squints his dark eyes at the blurry words on the white sheet of paper that sat on his desk. He really hated cramming for midterms, he worked to a point he got migraines from the information he drills into his head, but if he didn't score in the top three, well, he didn't want to think about the consequences. Today was the day and get could feel his face become pale with fear. No— no. He's not scared, not scared at all, he's just tired. Yeah that's it.

His sleepiness is making his body cold and ghostly, it's nothing. Nothing at all.

"But you can't swi—

He bites on his tongue until he can smell the red from his mouth. Until his eyes burn with crimson and his arms are heavy with grief. He has given up, he didn't want to play anyway, he doesn't even know how to swim anymore.

He can taste her screams.

Her fear tickles his red nose. He takes in a deep breath, the air doesn't taste as dirty.

Then he looks back at the fuzzy paper and the words are more clear.

_

Science was an easy subject— all subjects were easy. He had to learn about chemicals and the body at a young age, he needed to know how to use more math than the average person almost all the time, history was just a need of memory and he already knew the languages they were teaching.

Alcohol he scribbles down as his first answer. His handwriting is messier than usual. He can't read his Kanji, but he knows what he wrote, so it's fine.

_

Principal Asano is a force to be reckoned with. Not that anyone had the gaul to even stand up to him. His eyes are a piercing violet, they can stare through you, as if you weren't there at all, as if you are nothing but a ghost before him. He stands almost as if he's invincible.

He sits on Karasuma's chair. In his hand is a rubix cube, it's colored blocks tangled around and gone into havoc. He spins the sides around, they click incorrectly.

"Consider this deceptively simple cube,"

Atsu zippers his back, slumping it on his shoulders. His head is pounding.

"If I wish to align the colors, quickly and intuitively,"

Atsu walks outside with the rest of the class only to realize he's missing something, he reaches into his pocket. He's sure it'll be there.

"Any idea on how to do that?"

He walks into the classroom and heads for his desk. Looking around for it. His pockets are empty.

"The answer:"

He squints under his chair. His hands reaching under it. He needs to find it. Just that little bottle.

"Pry them apart and reassembled."

He takes a screwdriver and places it under a block, pushing up, the cubes fall apart from their formation, clacking on the musted floor.

Atsu's fingers touch the plastic and he sighs in something like relief.

The white tablets look dirty, the regularly translucent orange bottle is dusted with grime and the sticker is torn on the edges, but Atsu ignores it. There are only five left. He'll have to go to the man soon. Kanashi needs this, and she's done so much for him. It's only fair that she gets this. She needs them after all.

He sighs, and for a moment his head is a happy place. Then everything is static and he walks out of the classroom and heads home.

Asano smiles. It's deceptive and narcissistic, but he smiles.

Korosensei walks in and Asano looks to meet him. "Ah, you must be Korosensei, it's an honor to meet you."

The octopus closes the door behind him and his beady eyes widen. "Eh?"

Irina crosses her arms and narrows her eyes to slits. She licks her lips and furrows her eyebrows. "Apparently this gentleman is the principal,"

Korosensei spaces out for a moment. Then his tentacles go limp and he freaks out. His limbs flailing about and his head spinning.

_

Atsu walks into his room, placing his bag onto his desk chair. The one his parents got him when he was eight, they had deemed it necessary for him to work like an adult. They pushed him far too much after her death, not that he cares.

He looks to the room across from his, the door is like his. The white paint is chipped and cracked.

He knocks on her door and she opens, her small form is shaking and her breath is ragged. He gives her the bottle and a half empty bottle of water.

"I'll get you more next Thursday, I promise."

"Thank you, big brother." She smiles and for a single second he smiles back.

O is for Offhandedly;

You will be the death of me

And before the wind heads afloat and I set to the sea

Hold out your hand and please save me

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