There was a new addition to the classroom, eh? A transfer student… from America. He heard a lot of things from America. Mere stereotypes about how they were greedy, selfish pigs. Cyril didn’t care for those sort of assumptions—he thought of them as stupid and idiotic. Who were they to say how people were like when they never saw neither hide nor hair of them before? Cyril looked back at the person stumbled into the class, expression unchanging. Well, he was loud. The thought of having this kid in his class irked him to no end. Oh well, he guessed he would have to take his anger out more often at home, preferably while playing video games or his violin.

The teacher told this ‘Daisuke’ to sit next to him, and he swore it was because he had something against him. Cyril stretched in his chair, yet his expression did not waver from its almost blank expression. [i]Just ignore him, Cyril. Maybe he’ll go away.[/i] he begged that he would. Cyril would rather shove his hand down a lion’s throat than suffer beside such an energetic person. Yet, even as he walked down the aisle, Cyril looked over the fellow. He was an Asian, yes. [i]Born in Japan, moved to America, and now here? He must live an exciting life, experiencing all of those cultures.[/i]

It was then that Daisuke turned toward him and greeted him cheerily. This, too, bothered Cyril. [i]I hope he isn’t a chatterbox. I can’t let him think that we’re friends or he really won’t get off of my back.[/i] Cyril only offered him a lazy, uninterested sidelong glance before chewing on his lip, putting his hands behind his head and returning his uninterested gaze to the chalkboard. [b]”You better focus on the class rather than me.”[/b] Cyril told him blandly. [b]”The teacher doesn’t like interruptions in his classroom.”[/b]

First it was raining blood outside of the room, and now this? Okay, maybe the whole ‘raining blood’ thing was a figment of his imagination, but he was pretty sure that Daisuke wasn’t. [i]I wish…[/i]