long anticipated aren x reader! thank you all for the requests.
. . .
"And, this is it." a local person showed you the way to your new school, P.K. Academy.
"Thank you so much for helping me, you didn't have to at all." you bowed, showing your gratitude.
"Oh, it wasn't a problem! I love helping new kids in the neighborhood," the sweet lady smiled warmly at you. "There's some good deals at the supermarket, so I better get going."
"Thanks again, have a good day!" you waved at her, until she turned around the corner.
The entrance of the school completely blew your mind, everything looked so clean and peaceful compared to your other school. It was empty, of course, everyone was already in their respective classrooms before you arrived.
New starts were always very refreshing, especially because of what happened the year before. You shuddered at the thought, and continued to walk into the building.
"-And I believe we have a new student, I don't recognize this name on our roster. (L/N) (Y/N)?" you overheard from inside a classroom on the first floor, so busy from wandering around the grounds that you didn't realize that you were passing your new classroom.
The instructor saying that he didn't recognize your name relaxed you.
"Good morning!" you revealed yourself, peeping inside from the sliding doors.
Your instructor lowers his spectacles before gazing at you. "You're (L/N), correct?"
"Indeed I am." you said, revealing a bright smile to the class.
"Well, shall we give warm welcomes to our new student while we're at it?" he beckons to your classmates.
They stood up from their seats, bowing to you in unison. "Welcome to our class."
Bowing to them in return, you can't help but feel ecstatic over the fact that life gave you a second chance at starting over.
"You may take a seat beside Toritsuka, the kid with the purple hair," he suggests, re-adjusting his spectacles. "The second to the last row."
You bowed to him again before taking your seat beside the kid who looks seemingly a little too interested in you than normal.
"Hey, newbie." says your seat-mate, his eyes fixed on you.
"Uh, what's up?"
"So, uh, where you from? Why'd you come here? Where'd you transfer from?" he queries, a little too much for your liking. Or maybe it was just paranoia, your primary objective into coming here was keeping a low profile to prevent the same events happening from the previous school year. Simple questions like these throw you off, no matter how much you try to convince yourself that these people mean no harm.
"It's not important," you dismissed him, lowering your face. "Just here to chill and stuff."
"Are you like a secret agent or something?" he traces his finger on the edge of his desk, pouting. "I just wanted to know a little bit of our new and pretty classmate."
You shook your head in dismay. "Creep."
A laugh belted in the hallway, suddenly alarming you. It sounded quite familiar, but you shook it off thinking that it was your paranoia startling you once more.
. . .
Soon enough it was break time, and again you were excited to explore more of the school grounds. You only had a little bit of time to explore in the beginning of the day, but it was only to find your classroom, and a vending machine filled with good snacks. Finding only one of the two, you decided to start your trek to find a vending machine.
While familiarizing yourself around P.K. Academy, you heard the same loud laugh from the hallway earlier. Spiking up your paranoia, you momentarily forget about the journey to the vending machines. Following where the voice came from, you hoped in your heart that it didn't belong to the person you thought it was.
"Please," you mentally prayed in your head, turning around unfamiliar corners to find the source of the voice. "I just need to check who it is. It's all for my sanity." One last turn around a path, you were struck dead in your tracks.
Right there, beholding your eyes, was your old gang mentor.
"Are you joking?" you muttered.
Staring in disbelief, you made eyes with the last person you hoped you would never come across again. But there he was, standing there, wearing some phony glasses and rocking some terrible purple box-dyed hair.
Aren Kuboyasu. The gang leader from your old school, surrounded by a group of his friends. He looks different, yes, but a good different. Almost attractive in a way or another.
Memories flash in your head like the brisk flickering of the pages of a book, the more you remained steady eye-contact with him, the more he appeared to be . . .
angry.
But you seem strangely relieved at this point, the fact that he changed his appearance gave you some comfort as well. Maybe he wanted a change, too. You smiled, almost breaking into a laugh because you felt genuinely relieved and comforted, but he assumed that your facial expressions were an act of mockery, which fired him up even more.
His pink-headed friend seemingly noticed this tension, but brushed it off.
"Aren, stop staring at the pretty newbie like that." his friend with baby blue hair waved at you, you giving him a smile in return.
"What a nerd." you said, before walking off, almost skipping with this newfound comfort of seeing your ex best-friend with a successful new life. You felt quite envious, you wanted your new life to come as quickly as possible.
"Give me a second, guys." he says, trailing you. "I have more important things to take care of.". Malice slipped into his tone, warning the ears of everyone around him. You weren't scared, though, all you remember that he was all bark and no bite. So much from an ex gang leader.
He slams you against the wall behind the cafeteria building, his weight circulating heavily on his grip on your shoulders. His shoulders in return looked broader then it did before, and perhaps that made you swoon a little bit. The sun hitting the back of his head made his terribly done box-dyed hair more pronounced, which made him look goofy. His shadow casted over you, cooling your cheeks.
"Well, you look a little different." you chuckled, putting on a light aura of tranquility.
He heaves, almost whispering. "What are you doing here?"
"I should ask you the same thing." you replied rather calmly, which irritated him even more.
"You are not about to ruin this for me!" he exploded, "I have a good life here, and it's about to end up horribly because of you!"
"Who said anything about me trying to ruin your life here?" you gripped onto his wrists tightly, dead eyeing him. "I'm here to start over, too."
"You could've done a better job with picking a different place!" he slams your shoulders again, gentler this time. "I demand you to transfer to a different school!"
"Who do you think you are?!" you fired back.
"Everything going alright over there?" one of his friends heard the commotion from behind the other wall. He might as well blame himself for revealing his own identity, his volumes would've given himself away.
He hushes himself again. "Just swell, I'm almost done!" his tone of voice changes, and you tried to wriggle out of his harsh grip. He switches his hand placement abruptly, now pinning your arms above your head to make sure you stay in place.
"Now, (Y/N), you can either tell me the truth of why you transferred to this school or face the consequences." he inches closer to your face, frustration clearly written on his.
"What are the consequences?" you cheekily ask, knowing he wouldn't do anything.
He pauses momentarily. "You come with me and I'll make sure you never see the light of day, ever again."
"You're not going to kill me," your voice straining, trying to push his forceful grip away. "Not to mention, we were the best of buddies back then, why couldn't you trust me?"
He loosens his grip, just slightly. Eyeing you up and down, he still wasn't sure of trusting you. After all, everything went to shambles when the old gang dissembled. Lies, slander, and rumors reached the ears of your friends and family before, and you, the same as him, would not want for that to happen again.
"Aren, I didn't know you were a perv." your classmate Toritsuka crosses his arms leaning on the wall, smiling slyly.
Kuboyasu diverts his attention to the medium, charging at him, you broken out of his grip. "Come here, you!" he grunts, chasing after your sneaky, maybe perverted, classmate.
. . .
Walking home from school, you caught up to Kuboyasu who also lived on the same street. "Let's call a truce." you suggested, slinging your book bag over your shoulder.
"Tch." he scoffs, clinging onto his book bag tighter.
"C'mon, it'll be a promise to never ever mention anything of our pasts ever again," you shuffled closer to his side, matching your walking pattern to his. "After all, we're both desperately wanting to have a nice, brand new start."
He sighs then pauses in his steps, and turns around to meet your face once more.
"You promise?" his voice softer, which threw you off.
"Yeah, of course!" you held up your pinky finger. "You have to promise to me, too."
He reluctantly twirls his pinky with yours after a few seconds of consideration. "I promise, as well."
"Great, you can now treat me to some yummy drinks from that vending machine over there." you pointed at the vending machine filled with eye-catching sodas and other soft drinks across the street.
"I didn't agree to this!"
"Considering you wasted my time by slamming me against a hard wall while I was trying to use my money for an orange soda earlier, I feel like I deserve a nice, refreshing drink."
"Whatever," he says, trying to pry out his wallet from his pocket while the both of you switched courses to the vending machine.
"Since you're also wasting my time buying you a drink, I might as well introduce you to my new friends while I'm at it." he fumbles with his coins, sliding them into their respective slots.
"Oh dear god."
end.