Douma did NOT like geography. He found it boring. But like the perfect student that he was, he had of course selected an advanced course in this subject, among others. And like everything, it was easy for him. So Douma tried his best, and of course, proved himself as the best student in the course, even though he wasn't even putting that much effort into the things he did.

The only good thing about the advanced geography course was that for some reason, Enmu was here too. It didn't seem like he was interested in the subject or anything though, since he almost never participated in class.

Douma had no clue why he was even here, but that didn't matter. The course gave him an opportunity to be in Enmu's presence for a longer amount of time, and Douma could watch him without having to fear that he'd run away again.

The only problem was that Douma was sitting in the front row, and Enmu in the last one. There were two rows between them, and Douma didn't have a reasonable excuse to stare at him. It was extremely frustrating.

But of course, Douma still found moments to shoot glances at his crush. Because yes, even he was aware enough to realize that he had a crush on Enmu. Douma wouldn't deny how gay he was for him. The butterflies in his stomach said everything.

And whenever he looked at Enmu, he was assured of that again. Douma saw him sitting alone in the back row, staring blankly at the paper in front of him, his beautiful, cyan gaze lowered. Enmu didn't look happy, he never did, honestly, but if Douma wasn't wrong, he looked even more upset than usual.

The way he hid his face behind his hair, the way his eyes looked a little damp and like he hadn't slept properly. It was beautiful, yet Douma felt a pang of concern for Enmu. What was it that had made him upset?

Douma let his eyes muster the other further, while occasionally shooting glances to the front of the class where the teacher was explaining something. Enmu was resting his face on his right hand, while his left hand…

Wait.

What was that!?

Douma could have sworn that he'd seen something reddish on the back of Enmu's left hand, but before he could have identified it, Enmu had hidden it under his sleeve.

Or maybe…

Douma was just seeing things…?

But no!

There it was again!

Something dark red, in the form of a line.

But what was it?

After two more glances, Douma could be sure what it was.

It was a cut.

Confusion clouded his mind. A cut? Had Enmu cut himself?

But how…

Douma felt himself grow even more concerned than before. Apparently, Enmu had hurt his hand. But how exactly? And why hadn't he treated the wound properly? And had it even been Enmu himself or someone else who had given him the wound? And lastly… had the cut been an accident, or… intentional?

All of these questions overwhelmed Douma completely. He wasn't used to the feeling of worry, and now all of these questions distracted him so much that he couldn't concentrate on the lesson at all. He didn't know what to do, so he just continued shooting glances at Enmu, who still stubbornly stared at his notes.

Then, it suddenly hit him.

Douma quickly ripped a piece of paper out of his college block as an idea crossed his mind. He took out a pen and then quickly scribbled something onto the piece of paper. He folded it, wrote 'to Enmu' on top of it and then handed it to the girl who was sitting behind him.

The girl gave Douma a confused look. But he just continued staring at her intensely, and pointed at the writing on the piece of paper. Finally, the girl gave in and passed it on to the row behind her.

Douma waited in anticipation. Was Enmu going to reply to his note? Was he going to ignore it? All he knew was that he couldn't just sit there and watch. Douma needed answers. Right now. And if he didn't get them right now, he'd go insane.

~

Enmu did NOT like geography. He found it tiresome. But as his school had made it obligatory to select at least two advanced courses, and he had not filled out the election form on time, Enmu had been forcibly signed up for the geography one.

The lessons had always been a pain to him, boring and exhausting. But after that fateful day at the ice skating arena… things had changed for the worse. Because the reason for all of his heart aching, Douma Nirigami, was inside the course as well.

Enmu tried to avoid Douma at all costs. And usually, he succeeded in that, since they were not in the same grade and therefore didn't share any classes with each other; and during the break, Enmu just stayed in one of the hiding places that he had found back in the times when the other students had bothered him a lot.

But the advanced courses… were different. Here, multiple students from three different grades came together. And that led to the unfortunate circumstances that Enmu was in right now.

He was in a constant state of instability, the various emotions too mixed up to be understood. On the one hand, Enmu was incredibly happy. Back from the last row, he had the perfect view of the students in front of him, while they didn't see him at all. This meant that he could stalk Douma freely, and was able to admire his beautiful features, without ever getting noticed…

NO. Enmu couldn't let himself drown in that hole again.

Because on the other hand, he now had the perfect opportunity to drown himself in that beautiful dream, the illusory concept that his wishes could come true, and never wake up from it. And he had already fallen deep enough; hope would lure him in even further, and then, when he'd finally remember what he was, reality would be pulled away from under his feet and he'd die.

The other problem for Enmu was Douma himself. As the former had noticed, Douma tried to approach him at any possible occasion, as he seemingly loved to stir Enmu's hopes up, even though they'd be shattered anyway in the end.

And of course, the geography lessons were no exception from that. Douma always greeted Enmu when he could, or waved at him, which always sent tiny little poisonous butterflies through Enmu's stomach.

But the worst part was… Douma stared at him. He stared at him all the time, and when he couldn't, he'd shoot occasional glances back at him. Maybe he thought that Enmu didn't notice, but oh, it was so obvious.

Which was exactly why Enmu was staring straight at his table throughout the whole lesson. Douma's staring made him uncomfortable and he was extremely tensed. Because he honestly had no clue.

Why the hell was Douma staring at him?? Did he want something from him? Douma's gaze was always so intense, yet still so expressionless. It took Enmu all of his willpower to not look back at him and get lost in those eyes again. But alone the thought of finding out about all those mysteries that they held made Enmu drool.

Nonetheless, Douma's presence and his confusing behaviour that he just couldn't comprehend made Enmu grow extremely frustrated. It just didn't make sense! And at this point, all this tension was seriously weighing down on him. He was tired, really tired. Tired of feeling. And one could probably see it mirrored on Enmu's face.

Why did it always have to hurt so much… He had tried his best to protect his fragile heart, to isolate himself, but in the end, it hadn't worked. Because Douma was like a god, he was different from all those people that Enmu had successfully distanced himself from.

Slowly, he felt himself fall into once another depressive phase. Enmu was so sick and tired of the people, because all those emotional attachments in the end only hurt him. And even if his feelings for Douma were different, and a disposal of those was unthinkable, Enmu didn't deserve him anyway, so what was the use?

Drowning himself in this circle of depressive thoughts, Enmu had of course not been paying attention to what the teacher was saying. But when the boy who was sitting in front of him suddenly turned around and gave him a folded piece of paper, Enmu was completely startled and put out of his trance.

Upon seeing the piece of paper in his hand, Enmu was majorly confused and didn't know what to do with it. Of course, it happened quite some times that messages or notes were passed through the classroom, but they never reached him, because he sat alone in the back row, so he wasn't really helpful to deliver messages, as he could only work as a final destination. And Enmu himself never received any secret messages, after all, why would anyone write him?

However, his surprise grew even more when he looked at the piece of paper and saw the addressee: 'to Enmu' was written on it. Now, he was really confused. Was this some sort of prank? He was still happy though – anything to distract himself from Douma.

Really curious now, Enmu unfolded the paper. But little had he expected; the content of the message only made everything worse…

'Hey bbg

Enmu's eyes widened in horror. No. It couldn't be.

He reread the message multiple times. But it was still inevitable. The person who had sent the note to him was undeniably Douma.

Enmu was shaking slightly from the shock. How had he noticed!? Enmu had been careful and hidden his hand well, yet, Douma had still somehow been able to see it. He truly was one of a different kind.

Enmu's left hand. Both of his hands were cold and small, like the rest of his body. But his left hand was additionally decorated with a nasty, long cut. And it was quite fresh too, only a day old to be exact, and not treated properly.

It had been quite the unpleasant accident. Enmu had simply hurt himself while cutting onions for the soup he had been making yesterday. He had already been crying, and not just because of the onions; only to suddenly feel the knife's sharp blade pierce his skin.

But oddly enough… the pain hadn't really bothered him.

On the contrary, the already completely tired and drained out Enmu had found himself enjoying the pain.

He had been absolutely entranced by it. Hypnotized by the sight of his own blood dripping. The awful aching almost made him lose his mind, but that was exactly what he had needed.

Enmu had let the wound bleed for a long, very long time, unable to move. The pain had absolutely clouded his consciousness. It had been so addicting that he had cut himself a second time, deepening the wound. It had taken him a long time to finally get up and clean it.

But even after it had stopped bleeding, Enmu hadn't bothered to cover it up or properly clean it, not caring about the consequences. Seeing the wound all the time constantly reminded Enmu of the overflowing pain. Plus, the cut still ached. It was a welcome concrete, and such a welcome distraction. A distraction from his everpresent emotional pain…

Enmu knew that there was something seriously wrong with him. If he enjoyed putting himself in pain so much, maybe he needed to get help. But he really didn't know from where, and it was okay.

He was a creep anyway, and that was okay.

The pain was like a drug to him. It made him feel like he was real, while at the same time taking him out of reality and providing an intoxicating dream for him. And at this point, he was so far in it that it didn't even feel like pain anymore, only like escape. And to keep this small escape gate, Enmu had not covered the wound with anything, so he could always see it.

But now that Douma had seen it, there was no escape anymore. Now, Enmu had caught his attention again, which he had tried so desperately to avoid. This whole thing gave Douma an excuse to bother Enmu, and even though he absolutely craved his attention, it made him feel horrible, because it gave him hope again.

And because he knew that it wasn't because Douma actually cared about him, but only because he was being nice. And this awareness was honestly worse than if Douma hadn't noticed at all.

All of this emotional bareness was exactly what Enmu had tried to distract himself from. Now, Douma had tainted Enmu's only escape with his god-like consciousness. And his heart started aching once again, in an oh so deadly but also sweet way. After all, Enmu was enamoured by Douma, and being put through so much suffering because of him was like a dream come true.

The combination of both his emotional and physical pain and the inability to distract himself from them made him fall into a spiral of depressive thoughts once again. He was such a wreck, an ugly masochistic mess full of toxic thoughts and unbearable pain, who could ever love him?

And his pathetic ass still longed for Douma, the angel whose affection he could never deserve, and whom he could never compare himself to.

It was such a shame that he was even in this place right now, a nobody that knew damn well that he didn't belong here. No one would have even noticed if he disappeared, and he was only tainting the room with his ugliness, an undefined being, no boy, no girl, just pain.

Yes, Enmu truly hated his body. He hated it so much that he dreamed he could wake up in a new one each and every day, and he truly liked to see it harmed.

His body was honestly so useless. Enmu was weak, fragile and incapable. He was no man, but merely an alien. He looked too soft to be a guy, and too ugly to be a girl. So how could anyone be attracted to him?

He had always said that it didn't bother him, but of course, that had been a lie. And now, that he was in love with Douma, it had only gotten worse. When Enmu looked into the mirror, he saw an undefined person. A creep, with too long hair and too short extremities.

What was there to like about him?

Enmu was well aware that simply his looks already made it impossible for Douma to be attracted to him. Why did he have to be so ugly, so inept?? That day at the ice skating arena had only once again proven his helplessness.

He honestly felt so uncomfortable inside his body, always wanting to change something about it, or simply wanting to escape out of it. Enmu would have killed to get a perfect body, one like Douma's. He was extremely envious, and wanted to be freed of his ugliness so badly, so he could be happy, he could be someone.

But at the same time, Enmu didn't bother to change. Because no matter how much he changed his appearance, the ugly would still be there. It was rooted deep inside of him, an inner ugliness that was written into his DNA. So, changing his appearance wasn't worth the effort.

And even if he did, that wouldn't make Douma love him. No matter what he did, it wouldn't make Douma love him. Because there was nothing that could make Enmu be enough for Douma. So much had he understood after years of rejection, and years of being a nobody, living in the shadows.

And that was exactly the reason why Enmu took out a pen now, and wrote down a simple 'nothing' onto the piece of paper as a response. Because opening up meant making himself vulnerable, and giving himself hope. But if he doorslammed Douma like that, he would cut off this contact opportunity. Satisfied with himself, Enmu quickly tapped the shoulder of the guy who was sitting in front of him and gave him the note.

Now, that Enmu had gotten rid of that devilish piece of paper, he could finally concentrate on the lesson again. Massaging the back of his hand a little, he listened to the teacher's speech about the power of wind energy. The information didn't stay inside his brain, but at least it provided a good distraction from Douma and his extreme self loathing.

'Yo! Enmu!', the boy in front of him suddenly whispered, while turning around to look at him.

Enmu flinched. What…

'This shit for you again.', the boy reached out to hand Enmu a piece of paper.

And to his horrid realization… It was the very same piece of paper which he had just sent away.

No, no! Enmu didn't even dare to look into the direction where Douma was sitting. His hands were shaking, but he still unfolded the note, his terrified eyes unable to focus. So Douma had sent him another reply… Why did he have to be so goddamn persistent!? Enmu had hoped so badly that his doorslam would work. That he'd be able to close the case in his mind. But of course, Douma was stronger than all of his resolutions…

Enmu lowered his gaze to look at the piece of paper. Below Douma's original question and Enmu's response now was another message, which was also written in Douma's neat yet expressive handwriting:

'Bruh. Aww c'mon now :(
Please tell me. I'm worried.'

Enmu almost choked. Douma was worried about him!? His heart suddenly started beating faster, and he felt his cheeks fill with warmth. It felt so nice and unusual, which made his shock grow even more. Oh gods, how could Douma be so perfect…

But no. Enmu couldn't let himself grow weak, and give in to the feelings! The goddamn hope was like a disease, and one day, it was going to kill him, because he'd fall.

Being in love was like flying on a cloud, and when you were disillusioned and heartbroken, realizing that your feelings could never be reciprocated, you fell from that cloud. Falling always hurt, but if you started building up hope, you'd fly higher and higher on that cloud. Until you fell. And the higher the height from which you fell, the more it hurt.

That was why Enmu couldn't let himself give in to the hope and positive feelings. And in the end, he knew that Douma could never mean those words which he had written. They were simply a formality, and he was asking because he was bored. Because there was no way his grace could care about a lowly creature like Enmu. And what the hell, they didn't even really know each other…

Enmu was still hyperventilating. He didn't know how to respond to the message, and so he just continued staring at it. He wanted to shut Douma out again, but now he knew that this wouldn't stop him and he'd just continue asking until he'd get a proper answer out of Enmu. But… what was he supposed to do then…?

'Hey babygirl', a voice suddenly interrupted his train of thoughts.

Completely dumbfounded and caught off guard, Enmu slowly turned his head to his left.

And then he saw it.

Sitting right beside him…

Was none other than..

Douma.

Enmu let out a small yelp.

What the hell…

…was he doing here!?

He suddenly forgot how to breathe.

It couldn't be.

But yes, there he was!

Sitting right beside Enmu!

Upon suddenly realizing how close they were to each other right now, he started hyperventilating again. It wasn't possible! Douma!? Here!? In the last row!? With Enmu!?

The younger male's cheeks turned bright red. He couldn't believe it, and he had no idea what to say. The man he desired most was sitting right next to him right now! Even though it felt too good to be true, Enmu could see it all clearly. Douma was sitting there casually with his legs crossed, his somewhat formal shirt and half-messy hairstyle making him appear extra handsome.

And then there were his eyes… He was staring directly at Enmu with them, and they were filled with curiousity. Enmu desperately tried to avoid his gaze, knowing he'd lose himself in those beautiful eyes if he only dared to shoot a glance at them. But he couldn't stop himself. And of course, he found himself mesmerized and captured again.

'What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?', Douma suddenly spoke again, his voice having a teasing undertone.

Enmu flinched in