[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/XNvlY5J.png[/img][/center]

Where was I?

Ah. Right. I believe when I last left off, I was distancing myself as quickly as I could from the chaos in the front courtyard, and trying my best to ignore the increasingly loud [color=#FF825C]orange[/color] thoughts behind me as [i]somebody[/i] desperately pleaded for salvation and/or a WcMuffin, in that order.

...Look, just because I like to help people doesn't mean I'm going to march headfirst into [i]that[/i] situation. I mean, look at it rationally for a second. What would me, a complete stranger, getting involved even do? That would just make things more awkward for everyone involved, so in the interest of not making even more of a spectacle of myself than that [i]Justice[/i] kid is already doing, I think it's best if we just move on.

...Or not. I've only been in the assembly hall for a matter of seconds before I start regretting everything, and instinctively reach for my headphones. But I stop myself before I can pull them out of the pocket of my blazer. At best, I'd get yelled at by a teacher for ignoring the opening ceremony. At worst, I might be [i]suspected.[/i]

As always, that thought is enough to stop me in my tracks, even when my head feels like it's going to burst. I have to bear this. Like a [i]normal[/i] person. So that I can remain beneath notice. So that nobody will start [i]thinking[/i] at me here. This is just another necessary step in securing my peaceful life. I can do this. These thoughts aren't mine.

Excitement, confusion, anxiety, anger, dread, hope, and countless other emotions I can't even begin to process scream through my ears in a language beyond words, despite my insistence. And before I know it, I find myself changing moods faster than flipping channels on TV. As I pass one row, I feel all the elation of a dream come true. As I past the next, I feel the immense frustration of a pointless argument with a stranger. And, as I find myself pushed onward by the crowd behind me -- seriously, STOP. TOUCHING. ME. -- I stumble into a row that only has one other occupant so far... and find myself showered with an unspeakable sense of dread.

...No, perhaps it would be better to call it "gloom." "Dread" seems to imply a fear that something [i]might[/i] come to pass, but what I feel from the boy in front of me is more along the lines of a [i]certainty[/i] that something [i]will[/i] come to pass. And that something is...

Is...

[hr][color=FFFF00][i][b][u]⫷𝔡𝔣⊕d̴̜̪͚͔̈́̒̂́͘͘j̶̧̧̻͉̩͇̰̝͔̮̭́̔͛́̋̀̇͐̑̚͘͝͝ͅͅş̷̧̻̻̳͎̼͍̬̳͓͆̐̒̎͛̚𝔦𝔥↝𝔷𝔨ì̷͗̋̀͂̐͂̕͠ͅt̸͙̠̗̦̲́ư̶̖̜͚̬̜͛̊̆͂̋͆͆̍͘ỉ̶̛̯̈́͑͠▱𝔬𝔭⌭❐z̷̡̨̲͖͍͕̺̲̦̼̤͉̱̯̗͎̦̙̬̯̐̿͜ḵ̵̡̧̨̨̠̼͕̗̫̼̟̼̪̖͕̫̜̹͈̲̱͓̥̜̬̼̃̄̀̌̓̓͆̌͑̈̊̈̑̌̆̀́̂͂̚͜͠͝͝͝⤦❖ư̶̖̜͚̬̜͛̊̆͂̋͆͆̍͘ỉ̶̛̯̈́͑͠⫸[/u][/b][/i][/color][hr]

[color=#4F8D1B][i]It hurts![/i][/color]

I clutch my ears, trying to drown out a noise I can't even hear. My head feels like a broken radio, as a sound that tastes like static tries to force its way down my optic nerve. I'm too confused to even speak, or to run away -- and then, just as suddenly as it begins, it's gone.

...No. Not gone. I can still feel it faintly. I can hear it with my skin, smell it on the tip of my tongue. But it's a sound. 

It is a sound, right?

I can't tell anymore. My ears are still ringing and my other senses aren't enough. I try to ignore it, but now that I've heard it once I can't help but notice the echo.

...And to make matters worse, the kid sitting in the row I'm still standing dumbly in front of is starting to look at me. I can't let him notice that I've been standing here like this, or he'll definitely take note of me. And I definitely can't let him see how much I want to vomit right now.

Calm. I'm a very calm person. I've never actually lost a game of Old Maid, you know. And I'm proud to say that it's not just because my telepathy tells me which card not to pick. Basically, what I'm trying to explain is that I have a very good poker face. I've never played poker, though. My mom would get worried if I did.

My expression's blank now. I'm sure of it. Then, a slight smile. ...I'm not as sure of that part, admittedly, but at least I tried.

[color=#4F8D1B]"...Mind if I sit here?"[/color] I ask, motioning stiffly to the seat next to him. Truth be told, the last place I want to be is next to this kid, where that [i]noise[/i] is strongest and where his gloomy emotions feel like they're choking me. But it would look far stranger to turn around and leave now, and if I did, I'm pretty sure this boy would take it as an insult. 

Or rather, doesn't it seem like he's being avoided? Maybe that's what's got him feeling so glum. In a new place, with nobody he knows, and the weight of Isshin's expectations on his shoulders, who wouldn't indulge in a little bit of pessimism? And so, knowing how bad he's feeling, can I really turn and walk away? That little matter in the courtyard is one thing... but right now, somebody's genuinely sad in front of me. And maybe I can help him... I dunno. Not be that, I guess.

...Even if I can't find out why without feeling like he's [i]flashbanging[/i] my [i]soul.[/i]