Jin had to admit, having math at the end of the day helped things end on a positive note. By the time the bell rang signaling the day's end, Jin's homework sheet was done. They leaned back with a stretch and a rare cheery grin. Numbers made everything better. They didn't need interpretation, explanation, or creative thought. Math was math, predictable and safe. Maybe next semester the school would let them enroll in advanced Calculus. Jin already had the highest grade in the class. 

Watching all the other students get up and start milling about, Jin took their time packing up. All around they could hear snatches of conversation; most of it was about the council president. In Jin's mind, their president probably realized how useless  high school was, and decided to break out. This was no tragedy. The poor guy probably wanted some freedom.  

"Miyamoto-kun."  Jin rose with  their bag packed, and regarded their classmate, having to crane their neck to look the boy in the eye. "...Do you think you could get me a job? I need work." Even though Jin could probably fix every machine in the McDonalds, because they didn't have an actual resume, most of the places around town had rejected them. 

At least, that's what Jin told themself, after 20 rejections. It wasn't the binder, it wasn't their skin tone or obviously foreign features. It was just the resume. As long as Jin took that as fact, they would keep trying. 

"I'm trying to... do something different with my life, y'know?" Jin figured that he might actually understand this. There were quite a few rumors about him too, and they recognized the scars on his knuckles. Jin had plenty that matched.