❝ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴠᴇʀʏ ɪɴᴛɪᴍɪᴅᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ.❞

╰──➤ 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙇𝙊𝙂𝙐𝙀

Snap!

A pink sky, the result of the sun setting. Purple and pink colors swirled in the clouds as the light shined through, like glass. A giant tree stood in the foreground as a statue to represent some unknown emotion. Pink cherry blossoms drifted from the branches and into the wind. The photo slid out of the camera and you held onto it tightly with a small smile, feeling a gentle breeze sweep your hair to the side.

"Got it."

♕︎❯────「♕︎」────❮♕︎

"Shut up! You've already told me a thousand times, I don't need to hear it again!"

"Then why haven't you gotten your grades back up!? What is even going on with you this year?! You used to be a straight A student! Did you just decide that you don't have to try anymore!?"

"Will you leave me alone?!"

...

Ei sighed with frustration and shut her eyes, "You know what? Fine. I won't pester you anymore, but I'm not going to support you any further. No more money for college, no more gifts, and no more art classes."

...

"Kunikuzushi, do you understand me?"

"...I hate you."

She only stared down at her son with a firm gaze, seemingly unaffacted by his words. But inside, she felt herself crack the slightest bit. With no more words uttered, she turned around and stepped out of the room, not bothering to shut the door behind her. Scaramouche, seeing this, walked over and pushed the door shut.

He sighed and found himself lowering to the floor, sitting on his knees, "Damn it."

He glanced toward his wall, viewing the paintings of various landscapes hung up. Many of them included cherry blossom trees or maple leaves. There was only one picture that painted a person, and it was his mother. After staring with a hardened gaze for a while, he stood up and approached the work of art he created years ago. He tore the paper from the wall, not caring enough to remove the pins holding it up first. He looked down at the ripped photo of his caregiver before crumpling it and throwing it to the trash can.

No more art classes? Fine. He'd been losing inspiration anyway.

♕︎❯────「♕︎」────❮♕︎

"Sorry I'm late!" You exhaled, bowing to your teacher as the entire class looked to the front of the room with bored eyes. You could hear subtle whispers amongst the stares.

"It's alright, Y/n. Just make sure to give the office a reason for your tardiness," Mr. Zhongli stated in his usual deep voice.

"Thank you, sir," you stood up straight and nodded before rushing to your seat, hanging your bag on the back of your chair.

Sleeping late was a usual occurrence for you, but you were never so late that you almost missed first period. Though you didn't particularly care about history, you had much respect for Mr. Zhongli. Plus, you always needed to pay attention so you could keep your grades up. 

"Alright. Today, we'll be starting our new unit on Khaenri'ah, an ancient kingdom from thousands of years ago..."

While you listened intently, Scaramouche kept his eyes locked on you. You seemed naive, but smart. You were always in the top ten on all the lists for major academic tests, and you never missed a class on purpose. You also always raised your hand to answer questions, no matter what class you were in. He couldn't comprehend how you could put so much effort into academics when all of it was so boring. The only class he ever paid attention to was art class, but while losing inspiration for the past year, he couldn't create anything of value. He did get good grades in all his core classes, but that was mostly memorization and then forgetting all the information immediately afterward. Not like he'd need it anyway.

But since Scaramouche needed help catching up, he decided to pay you a visit when you were free.

Classes were unimaginably boring in the morning, which wasn't much of a surprise. Nothing exciting ever happened. Thankfully, though, it didn't take too long before lunch rolled around and Scaramouche could finally talk to you without getting into trouble for disrupting class.

Your attention was captured by your photobook while you taped a new picture to a clean page. You smiled gently at the image you took yesterday before being startled by the loud noise of the locker next to yours slamming. It wasn't slammed closed or anything, no; someone punched it.

At first, you looked at the fist resting against the metal before turning your head to see whose  hand it was. Seeing Scaramouche, you furrowed your eyebrows and closed your book.

"Can I help you?" You asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

"I need you to do something for me."

"No."

For someone who always looked so innocent and eager to learn, he didn't expect such a cold response. 

He shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned on the locker he abused, "You haven't even heard the favor yet."

"I don't need to. I'm not doing anything for you."

You were fully aware of his reputation as being an abusive, insensitive prick.

Immediately, his gaze switched from your eyes to the book in your hands and he swiftly stole it. Your panic set in shortly after.

"Hey, wait, give that back!" You said.

"Not until you agree to do as I say," he smirked, holding the book behind his back as he watched your anxious eyes.

"What do you want?" You sighed heavily.

"Give me your notes for all our classes."

...

You gave him a deadpan stare, "No way. Give my book back."

"What is it, a diary?" He chuckled, taking a step back and bringing the item to his front side, opening it up.

"Don't open that, you're invading my privacy!" You yelped, reaching to grab it until his stepped back again to avoid you.

He still had a giant smirk pulling at his lips until he looked down at the first two pages and it slowly faded away. He didn't know you were a photographer.

While he was in his state of surprise, admiring your photos, you took the chance to snatch the album back. He cursed under his breath for letting you steal your precious photos back. You wondered why he wanted your notes badly enough to try stealing your personal items. It would've probably made you feel bad if you didn't know who he was.

"Why won't you help me?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow at you as you put your book in your locker and locked it to keep it safe.

"Because you're an asshole, that's why," you snapped. "The proof being that you just tried to steal my photo album so I'd let you cheat in your classes."

"Technically, it's not cheating."

"It's taking the easy way out. Same thing. I thought you had good grades anyway, why do you want my notes?"

"None of your business."

"Whatever. Don't try stealing my stuff again," you ordered, giving him a harmless glare.

"You're not very intimidating, Princess," he whispered, leaning closer to your face.

"Well... Neither are you," you lied, putting on the best brave face you could muster. In truth, you were afraid he was about to kick your knee in.

He leaned backward and sighed, "I'm still a human, y'know. You act like I'm asking you to start selling drugs or something."

"From what I've heard, you don't act like a human."

"From what you've heard?" He laughed. "You seriously believe the stuff those no-good future gas station attendants tell you?"

"Yeah, your suspensions have to come from somewhere, genius. Can you please leave me alone now?"

You started walking in the direction of the cafeteria and he followed, making sure to stay beside you. You tried your best to ignore his presence, since you didn't want to get involved with him. You were sure he'd only get you into trouble. He was hard to ignore, though, when you got to the cafeteria and he still didn't break off from your side. He didn't even bother to say anything to try convincing you to give over your notes. He just stayed there, acting like that was normal.

"Please stop following me. Seriously," you said.

"Oh? I'm just trying to get lunch. The world doesn't revolve around you, y'know."

You could see why everyone said he had a disagreeable personality. He seemed like the type to change his opinion just to argue with someone.

Even after getting your meal and sitting down at an empty table, he stuck by you. You figured he'd keep bothering you until you gave up, but you really didn't want to let him win so easily.

"If I agree to help you, will you stop pestering me?" You groaned.

"Yep," he grinned mischievously.

"Then do something to convince me."

His grin faded to a frown, "Like what?"

"Anything that takes effort."