[b][u][color=82ca9d]Bang Constantine[/color][/u][/b]

The boy continued pedaling as he recalled his last year in middle school. It was a particularly interesting school, if he put it in an underwhelming description of what it actually was. As a boy who casually lived among the strange and peculiar, he found himself accustomed to some of the strange events that occurred in his life.

[hr]

[i]His last year of middle school began. Taking his seat next to the one of the windows, Bang took out his pencil case and prepared a pencil and eraser. He was about to take a quick survey on bog-standard questions the school asked him to answer every year. He filled in the first blank.

Someone snatched his pencil.

Looking up, Bang found himself staring at a buff and mean-looking boy that looked like a thirty-year old. His eyes locked onto the man who took his pencil. The two did not blink as they remained silent.

Then, the boy ate his pencil.

He ate his pencil.

A pencil.

Bang nodded. This boy must have forgotten breakfast, he thought to himself as he took out fifty more pencils. And as the boy consumed all of the small bars of lead by himself, Bang decided that high school could be potentially more demanding than middle school.[/i]

[hr]

Bang nodded. He did find it strange to hear that this school would be co-ed, meaning that both men and women would be attending classes together. Still, there were probably little to no differences with how male and female students were treated. His Mysterious Mexican Friend, whom befriended him as soon as they met in Japan, taught him that. And if his experience from the Virginian middle school was right, then he would have no problems in avoiding rumors of him wanting attention. All he needed to do was train, work, eat... *insert more stuff here* ... *insert more stuff here* ... aaaaand sleep after doing his daily activities. At the moment, his attention was centered around doing well in school and getting something out of the time he spent there.

The dark-haired boy's expression remained idle as he dodged a motorcycle that nearly ran him over. Why the motorcycle was on the bicycle lane, he would not know, but he decided that Japan worked differently from the United States of America.

Another motorcycle popped up and crashed into his bicycle.

Bang flew and tumbled across the bicycle lane, his body shrunk into a defensive ball stance as he rolled. As he slowed down, the boxer slammed his hands against the asphalt beneath him and stopped abruptly. He turned, watching the man riding on the motorcycle zoom into a corner as a police car chased after it and the motorcycle Bang had managed to dodge.

[i][color=82ca9d]Oh.[/color][/i]

"[color=82ca9d]...[/color]"

So things did work similarly in Japan. His bicycle went missing as soon as he analyzed his surroundings.

Bang got up. He himself had never realized how strange his luck could be. Even now, he considered the event to be a normal occurrence, not knowing that a normal person would make a huge (and justified) fit out of the siutaiton. A boxer needed to overcome all obstacles placed in front of him, after all. Thankfully, Bang had flown behind a billboard, so it would make it harder for students to see what actually happened to him.

But anyway.

He was now close to the school. That was the important thing he really had to keep in mind, not the concept of getting run over by a motorcycle. Dusting his uniform, the dark-haired boy stood up. He made sure the contents of his bag were not obliterated as he walked a bit further. A good few minutes later, he stood in front of the school.

[i][color=82ca9d]It looks pretty good,[/color][/i] he thought to himself positively. And that was to be expected, considering how he came from a pretty iffy middle school and ended up with a plentifully prestigious high school. Carrying his bag like a businessman, Bang finally went past the front gate of Hybrid Academy.