A/n: Trigger Warnings: Bullying and Manipulation
Brushing your hair out of your face you to continue to jolt down notes. A bell rings, the shrill sound echoing across the Campus.
You jump, startled by the sudden sound, making all your papers fly into the air like birds before they float to the ground.
Quickly you sink to your knees and collect your belongings. But luck is not on your side today as the wind makes a few sheets drift further away. Cursing under breath you hastily stuff the papers that you are holding in your bag before you chase after the others. As if the day couldn't get any worse.
Shoes clack over the brick path and you peek up from your crouching position. The short figure of Professor Honda comes into view as he climbs up a flight of stairs and starts to walk in your direction.
Yet since he is focused on a bunch of papers he is holding in his hands he doesn't notice you.
Your notes flutter in the wind, emitting a rustling sound, catching the attention of the professor. Stopping mid-step, he lets his gaze sweep across the empty campus before his eyes land on you.
You don't know what to do or how to react. Panic lets you freeze like a deer that is caught grazing. What should you do? After all, you don't want to get in the bad books of Professor Honda when you already have almost the whole institution against you, but it seems as if you've now landed in a dead end.
Mentally you brace yourself for the humiliation that is sure to come. Yet it never comes.
Instead, the stoic teacher approaches you and helps you to collect the stray sheets. Not a word is said the whole time through.
Once he has handed your papers back to you he gestures you to follow him and after a moment of hesitation, you trail along beside the man in a somewhat awkward silence. However, you are thankful that you don't have to converse with Mr. Honda.
Emotions swirl in you like currents, carrying questions along, tossing them back and forth like boats on a rough sea. You are so consumed by the thoughts ghosting around your head that don't hear what your companion says.
Perking your head up you politely request: "Excuse me could you please repeat that."
Peering at you from the corner of his eyes his thick accented voice formulates the question once more: "Is everything alright?"
Memories of the past months resurface, a dull pain accompanying them. Words threaten to overflow but the only that you bring out is:
"I'm fine."
You stare at the ground, ashamed that you resorted to lying to a teacher. He wouldn't understand anyway and he most likely has no time to deal with your problems.
Your teacher yet again interrupts your train of thoughts is once again stopped when the Medicine Professor praises you:
"I admire that you still show interest in your education. Most lose all ambition after the first few weeks."
The compliment makes your cheeks flush red. The education you receive here is really the only thing that is keeping you from going down completely. Not to mention the fact that you feel some joy from learning about something you've been interested in for so long.
While passing various classrooms you turn your face to look at him, gracing him with a small smile as you smoothly reply:
"Well, I did come here to learn about subjects that interest me. It is hard work but I like to think that in the end, it will be all worth my time."
Suddenly he comes to a halt in front one of the classes. Seeing the confused look on your face he mutters softly: "I believe that you have literature in this room. We'll see each other later."
Without even bothering to wait for a response he marches straight past you, with what you think to be the tiniest of smiles plastered on his visage.
How does he know your timetable? You rarely ever talk to him and you are sure that you've never mentioned anything about your routine. On the other hand, he is a teacher so it might be that he knows a bit more of what classes you have than expected.
Before opening the door you take a deep breath, expecting the teacher to yell at you the moment you set foot inside. Instead, you are greeted by a sight you see all too often.
Slightly relieved you sneak to the back of the class, a paper plane crashing into your shoulder. Trying to make yourself invisible you sit, hoping that he wouldn't notice you, but as usual, it is not the case.
The overpowering smell of the expensive cologne nearly makes you gag and you just bow your head ever move over your folder as the deep voice cheers in a tone enriched with mock-friendliness:
"There you are (l/n). I feared I would have to search for you. What took you so long? Got lost on the way?"
When you neither move nor speak he slams his hands down in front of you, screaming: "Look at me when I talk to you!"
The others in the room ignore the confrontation going on behind them, they've gotten used to him harassing you and they don't care anyway; they're to caught up in their own lives to care about you.
Reluctantly you stare up into the face of Oscar Lillien. The brunet towers over you over you, dark blue eyes brimming with cold amusement and a smirk on his pale lips. Taking a puff from the cigarette he is holding he then blows the smoke in your face, making you a cough. Absent-mindedly he checks his Rolex watch and murmurs:
"We haven't got all day so spit it out."
Attempting to form a proper answer you fail miserably, only opening your mouth a few times like a fish on dry land.
He interrupts your stuttering and presses the lit cigarette in the middle of your folder, burning a hole through the topmost sheets while emphasizing every word of his insult: "You're sure are a pathetic excuse for a student and so completely useless too."
The teacher bursts through the door and strides across the room, saving you for now.
Oscar rolls his eyes and flicks the bud out of the open window before returning to his seat.
Throughout the lesson, you do your best to pay attention to the teachers droning about literature and block out the trash talking that is going on between your bully and his friends. Once the bell rings you are the first to throw your things into your bag and flee the scene. You want to stay out of plain sight and get out of harm's way before an embarrassing incident could occur.
For some reason unknown to you, Oscar Lillien decided to make your life miserable from the moment you met. It was something like hate at first sight and it is this hate that is the reason why you have no one to turn to.
Your family and friends from your old life all live far away and you're no longer on the best of terms with all of them anymore. The students here either believe the lies about you or fear that they too would be bullied if they'd side with you and the teachers don't care about such things.
A hand slams down on the locker next to you; ripping you out of your daze and making you spin around to only come face to face with your nemesis.
"Why so stressed? You are not in a hurry are you?", he sneers, a cocky grin plastered on his visage.
Oh God, how much you want to punch that smug face but then you'd be no better than him.
Deciding that ignoring him is the best tactic you take a step to the side to escape him. He cages you, preventing you from going away. Grasping your chin firmly with a rough hand he leans ever closer until you can feel his hot breath on your skin.
"Don't run away. I just want something small from you, you wouldn't be needing it anyway", his voice is soft and dangerous as he whispers this before he rips one of your folders out of your hand and struts down the hallway as if he owns the place.
Yet again you sit at the very back of the class, longing for the teacher to come in and start the lesson. You still haven't got your folder back. Silently you hope that you'll get it back in one piece, to begin with. A frown distorts your face as you recall the time when you found it in the rubbish bin.
Professor Honda opens the door and walks to the teacher's desk. Nobody notices him until he clears his throat. The commotion dies down and the pupils take their seats. Hushed whispers fill the class as some continue their conversations.
The short man slams both hands on his desk making everyone falls silent as his clear voice announces: "Seeing that most of you seem to be more interested in what is going on in social media I've come to the conclusion that it would be in the interest of all of us that you relinquish your phones for an hour or two. After all, a lot of you are failing this class."
A playful note swings in his voice as he passes through the rows but the students, on the other hand, are anything but amused. Angry stares follow the professor as one after the other begrudgingly gives up their prized possessions. A death glare is directed to the medicine professor as the young Lillien drops his phone in the box. It is as plain as daylight that the boy is completely pissed, if looks could kill... The teacher just ignores this and goes back to the front of the class once he has all phones and starts lecturing about blood vessels.
As usual, you scribble down notes while listening to the teacher. However, todays lesson comes with certain distractions. Your tormentor fidgets around and taps impatiently with his foot, it is almost as if he's suffering from withdrawal symptoms. Eventually, he begins knocking loudly and his desk with a pen so that it even annoys the calm and collected Kiku Honda.
"Mr. Lillien, would you please be decent enough to sit still and be quiet", he snaps while furiously writing on the board. The marauder is just enraged and shows this by crossing his arms over his chest and kicking his feet up.
"No!", he states plainly.
The professor slowly turns his head and growls in a low voice that doesn't match him: "Is that so? Then explain why you see it fit to disturb the lesson."
The boy only snarls before spitting: "Because your lectures are boring. You ramble about things you yourself have probably only read or heard about. We come out of this school and are expected to know something about medicine but how can have some knowledge about anything when we memorize a ton of shit for a test or exam to only forget most of it. We never have a practical demonstration so how are we supposed to visualize what you tell us?"
You expect the professor to lash out at him, scream detention or something else as punishment but what he does instead surprises you and shocks you slightly.
The short man laughs and gestures for Oscar to come to the front, claiming: "If that's your problem then come here. You want a demonstration after all."
Those amber eyes twinkle dangerously as the teenager raises, his frame trembling.
It is clear that out of all things he didn't expect this. He is now frightened but that if he would back out now that he would be labeled a coward.
Seconds later he is standing next to the teacher's desk while Mr. Honda paces around right beside him and explains:
"Pressure points are places where nerves and blood vessels lie close to the surface of the body. It's where a human is most vulnerable so this is used as an advantage in material arts and self-defense. Of course, you could always kick your attacker in the groin, but..."
He pauses in front of the shivering teen to press two fingers in the crook of his neck making the victim flinch.
"...it would be best to do something they wouldn't expect", he continues, his face unemotional as ever.
Silence consumes the class as you are all transfixed by the sight before you. Mr. Honda circles around Lillien, occasionally jabbing his fingers somewhere while he keeps on talking.
The entire thing is wrong. You know that a teacher shouldn't do such a thing to a student, but you can't help but think that he deserves it. That it is some sort of karma for his bullying even if what is happening to him is harmless in comparison what he did to you.
In the end, the boy is lying on the floor, skin pale as snow and wheezing as if he has just run a marathon. The smaller adult, satisfied with his work, turns to the class to announce:
"There is a reason why at first we bore you revising theories and so on for months at this school before you are allowed to do anything. It is near impossible to do anything in praxis if you haven't learned how the body functions beforehand. That is why ..."
Your focus shifts to Oscar who has managed to pull himself up and is now leaning against the table, a loathing look on his face and his dark bangs hangs loosely over his eyes. You watch in shock as he picks up a book, lifts it high over his head with the intention of slamming it down on his head.
But it never comes so far.
The Asian whirls around before the bully can carry out his plan, hitting him with a flat hand in the face. A crack can be heard as your foe's nose break.
The man hisses in disgust at his pupil's behaviour: "Never do something dishonorable like that again. Only cowards and criminals play dirty like that."
Before another word can be spoken the bell rings, signaling the end of the day. Everybody scurries around to pack their things to then flee the school like rats would leave a sinking ship.
On our way home you let the unusual events of today run through head. The more you think about it the more it puzzles you. What could have made the professor's mood take a turn for the worst? As far as you know he would always brush of even the crudest remarks of the pupils.
Before you know it you're already at home. As you dig around for the keys to your apartment you come to the conclusion that you shouldn't stress yourself with such irrelevant things.
Upon entering you lock the door behind you and run around the small flat to make sure that all the curtains are closed. The reason for your paranoia is that you believe that you have a stalker.
At times you swear that you are being watched and once or twice you even saw a mop of dark hair duck out of sight when you looked over your shoulder while going down the street.
Combined with the stress of having a bully, dealing with a stalker to has bestowed you with many sleepless nights. At least you feel some sense of security when you lock the doors and close the curtains.
Sadness wells up in you for the umtenth time today and after having to pent it up for so long you can no longer fight the tears back. What should you do? You are alone in this flat, in this city, in this world. All you want is a light to guide you out of the darkness.
Another two weeks have gone by. Two weeks where you've done your best at school, your best to avoid your bully and hid from your stalker, but the best isn't enough and it is showing. Oscar blamed you for the broken nose and now things worse than ever.
A few fidget around in frustration their bad mood stemming from the lack of their mobile phones. When the lesson finally ends everyone files in a line to retrieve their precious possessions, you being last in the row. When you finally have got your own and want to follow the others out a hand on your shoulder stops you.
Professor Honda whispers softly in your ear:
"Wait."
Only the door is slammed close behind the last student does he start his prodding: "(Y/n) is something wrong? You are in a bad shape."
No matter how much you want to deny it, it is true. You've become thinner, paler and there are dark rings under your eyes. However, in response, you shake your head.
The soft-spoken man doesn't buy this and doesn't leave you be: "Are you sure? You can tell me anything, teachers are supposed to be there for the students."
No, you can't let anything slip. He wouldn't and can't do anything considering your problems that would make it better so you shake your head.
"Well if you do need someone to talk to then here is my address", he says and presses a slip of paper in your hand.
Before you can protest someone bursts in, interrupting your conversation. It is a stout, balding man who shouts to Mr. Honda in a shaky voice: "Kiku, we need to talk."
Nodding the Japanese accompanies the man outside and leaves you alone.
After ranking your thoughts you finally remember who the man is. The headmaster, but it is no wonder that you didn't recognize him; he seldom dares to venture out of his office.
For a few moments, you just stand there before you pocket the paper.
With a sigh, you lie back. Notes and papers are spread all over your bed and you've been learning for hours for the upcoming test. Deciding it's enough for today you gather everything together and place it on your nightstand.
Then you trudge into the crammed kitchen to get yourself something to drink.
You are busy sipping a glass of water when you hear the faint sound of a window opening. Immediately you freeze and you almost drop your glass in the process. The fear intences when you hear footsteps in your bedroom.
Now you know for sure that you have a stalker and to make things worse he is only a few meters away from you.
Slowly you sneak to the front door but once you hear the footsteps grow louder you throw all caution overboard. Snatching your jacket you storm out of the building and sprint down the street of the quiet suburb as if the devil is after you. Only once breathing becomes difficult do you stop and sit down on the pavement.
Why? Why is life so cruel to you? What did you do to deserve this?
You dig your hands in your pockets, your fingers brushing a piece of paper in the process. Pulling it out, you inspect it closer. There, in neat handwriting, is the address of Kiku Honda, who, to your surprise, only lives a few streets away from.
A mental conflict erupts in your head on whether or not you should seek the help of the dark-haired teacher. In the end, you choose to go to him. It is an emergency after all and before you have a mental breakdown or something else happens you should get help.
Since you have neither money nor your phone on your person there is the best option.
When you finally are at the right address you ring the bell. It only takes a few seconds for the professor to open the door and inspects you with a critical eye.
A sight you are, standing there only wearing a jacket over your pyjamas and slippers on your feet while it dark and cold outside. Nonetheless, he doesn't say a word and just steps aside to let you inside as if he was expecting you.
Once you are inside he locks the door and guides you to the bedroom. He makes you sit down beside him on the pristine white covers. A hand placed in a comforting manner on your back, he silently urges you to tell him what is wrong.
You open your mouth a few times but not a sound comes out. After a few attempts, you manage to force the words over your lips in broken sentences and your voice is quiet and weak as you tell him the reasons for your misery. Once you are finished you bury your face in your hands to hide the fact that you are on the verge of tears.
Gently he strokes your hair before the man utters the first words for this evening: "I'll go prepare you a cup of tea. Make yourself comfortable."
He leaves the room and shortly afterward you hear water boiling. Letting yourself fall to the side you shuffle a bit to find a cozy position. After a while, something catches your eye.
What seems to be a photo is poking out from underneath the pillow. Curiosity gets the better of you and you pull it out.
The scene depicted sends shivers down your spine. Confusion and helplessness manifests in your soul because of it.
It is a picture of you sleeping on the sofa only in a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. Questions arise on after the other.
For how long has he been doing this? Why you out of all people? But if he is your stalker then who broke into your flat?
"I did hope that it would take longer for you to find out but I guess it doesn't matter now."
Whipping your head around, your gaze is met by the stare of your host, who is standing in the doorway, a cup of tea in his hand. He sets the cup on his desk and approaches you. In the end, you have your back against the wall he is barely a meter away from you.
"Why are you stalking me?", you whimper.
"Oh please, I wasn't the one stalking you. It was Oscar Lillien", he states.
The response leaves you dumbstruck. Why would your bully stalk you and more importantly how does the medical professor of all people know this?
"Oh dear, it was the clumsy Lillien all the time although I also kept an eye on you", he coos.
You want to scream, run, just something to get away but you can't move a muscle.
A smirk graces his face as he watches your face twist further in horror.
"However I do admit I made him follow him around. The boy is so easy to manipulate and bribe but also so clumsy and stupid. I convinced him to stalk you. I convinced him to bully you. You should stay the way you are so I couldn't let your mind be poisoned by your classmates."
Starting to shift towards the window in hopes of escaping you stammer: "How...? Why...?"
"Just a bit of coaxing and a few empty promises and I had him wrapped around my finger. He already has a violent nature so all that it took was a spark to light the fuse. As for why: I had to keep you isolated so that nobody would get in the way between you and me. So that you would come running to me in the end", he muses.
Shuffling over closer to the window you murmur: "You wouldn't get away with this. I'll tell the police, the headmaster and your plan will be ruined."
Taking a few steps forward before you can dodge him and pulls you to him, breathing terrible things in your ear: "Everything has been arranged beforehand, my sweetheart. I don't even have to lock you up. There is a reason why the principal keeps himself locked away in his office most of the time and when he shows himself to the public that it seems if he is going to have a panic attack any moment. That is because he is a gambling addict and he needs me to cover him. If you bring the matter to the police then they'll only find evidence of that snobbish Lillien. His mother has had her hopes that her son hasn't become as aggressive as his father. It would destroy her to find out that her hopes have been crushed to dust. Do you really want to do that to her?"
No, never could you have the heat to ruin someone else's life for your own wellbeing.
Desperation makes you begin a weak onslaught, trying anything to get away from your captor. On the other hand, Mr. Honda presses you even closer you him, burying his face in the crook of your neck in an uncharacteristic display of affection.
"Don't make things difficult for both of us. No matter what you do, no matter where you go I'll always find you. You are meant to be so don't fight it. You are mine."
Just when you thought that things couldn't get worse you found out that hell was dug even deeper. It was just the end of the beginning.
A/N: sorry it took so long to update. I know you've probably heard it hundreds of times before but school and co. have been keeping me busy. Thanks a million for all the kind comments