Experiment 5308-O.K.

Blending In

"Remember the rule, Ouma. I'll be back this afternoon." Ouma nodded and waved goodbye to Saihara who swung a backpack over his shoulder. "Oh, and don't open the window. The breeze will ruin my posters." Saihara smiled at the small man before shutting his door, closing Ouma off from the world. He wasn't allowed to leave or make noise, but that was okay! It was the least he could do for his saviour!

Ouma peeked out of the window and watched the bluenette adjust his hat whilst walking along the street. He couldn't stop smiling to himself, Saihara was so nice and he didn't deserve it. Was every human like this?

His ears perked up at the sound of mumbling. Human mumbling. Ouma's eyes widened and he analysed the room for hiding spots. Saihara warned him that his uncle may come into his room and snoop around, and he couldn't know Ouma was there.

He rushed toward the closet and slipped inside, easily fitting in the minuscule gap. Merch filled the closet's shelves and many jackets and hoodies hung in a neat row with stacks of shoe boxes beneath (hidden behind clutter). Ouma clasped his hands over his mouth and curled into a ball, trying to make himself as small as possible. Everything would work out, he wouldn't disobey Saihara.

Someone muttered to themselves as they entered the room, heavy footsteps sliding along the carpet. He couldn't make out the words over the pounding heartbeat in his ears. Ouma noticed a shadow forming in the crack of light beneath the door. In a flash, the wooden door slid open to reveal a large, burly, black-haired man who glared down at Ouma in disgust with smokey eyes. "I fucking knew it."

Ouma squeaked and tried to scramble further into the closet. His hand slipped over a sharp object and he grabbed it, even though he'd never be able to defend himself. As the man grabbed Ouma's collar, he slipped the sharp object into his pocket. "Shuichi's having parties again, isn't he?!" The man didn't respond, he only stared up at Saihara's uncle with wide, terrified eyes. "Answer me! Don't be so pathetic!"

He began squirming, trying to break free from the hold, but the man was too strong. After a few long seconds of silence, the man huffed. "Fine, if you don't want to talk, let's go talk to Shuichi himself." Ouma's eyes widened and he squirmed harder. Saihara would hate him!

･☆｡ﾟ☽ ﾟ｡☆･

Ouma wiped his tears again as the man dragged him through a school's barren hallways. He stumbled over his pant legs but Saihara's uncle didn't stop. "Stop stalling. You brought this upon yourself." They reached a classroom and, instead of knocking, the large man burst into the room uninvited.

Students jumped at the intrusion, but the teacher sighed and turned. "Hello again, Enomoto."

Saihara jumped to his feet from the back of the class. "Uncle! What the fuck are you doing?!" Guilty tears soaked into the collar of Ouma's shirt. When Saihara's eyes met his, they softened and he smiled. The small man couldn't understand why he wasn't enraged...

"He refuses to do anything but cry so blame him." Enomoto dropped the man and he made no effort to run. "Why do you have someone hidden in your closet?! Are you having orgies again?!"

"Come on man!" A man with fluffy, bright-green hair groaned. "Those were fucking lit."

"Shut it, boy!" Enomoto snapped.

A woman jumped to her feet so fast that her chair toppled. Long, brown pigtails flowed to the ground, held together by bushy, crimson scrunchies. "O-Ouma?!" He turned to her and stared for a moment, taking in bright, scarlet eyes that felt familiar. His lips parted in awe and shock as he took a step forward with an overwhelming urge to run into Harukawa Maki's arms and squeeze her tight. Enomoto ruined that plan when he tugged the small man back to his side, a strong grip on his shirt.