Falling for a Tragedy | Kei Tsukishima ?

"How's your head?" Yamaguchi asked, his eyes wide and unblinking as you subconsciously reached up and tangled your fingers through your hair.

"It's okay. Just a little bump. Though I had to hide my neck from my mum," you admitted, the collar of your shirt tight against your throat as you remembered the boy's crushing grip.

"You shouldn't have had to," he said through gritted teeth, fists clenching by his sides. "Nobody should have to suffer consequences from helping somebody else."

You agreed silently, pulling your sleeves down over your hands as a cold wind stirred the dirt around your feet. Tadashi was right; why should someone have to suffer for being selfless, for wanting to help somebody. It was wrong. Disgusting. Nobody deserved it.

"Say, [Y/N]," Yamaguchi began gingerly, running a hand through his hair to make it messier than usual. "You want to, uhm, hang out tonight or s-something?"

Your cheeks bunched into a droopy-eyed smile, and you shot him a thumbs up. "Sounds good! Hey, I'll text you later, okay?" You called, already backing up into the classroom of your next lesson and waving him off. Starting toward your usual seat at the back, you gave a wobble - hesitating - before turning back and pulling out a stool from the front desk.

"Do you normally sit there?" A boy asked with a small frown, watching as you began to lay out your stationary on the table.

You shook your head. "I find it difficult to see the board back there," you mumbled, squinting a little as if to prove your point.

The boy grunted. "Maybe you need glasses. Oh, you should know, Tsukishima-San sits in the seat next to you."

You merely nodded, relieved when he lost interest and turned back to his partner.

Kei turned up halfway through the lesson. You heard him mutter something about waking up late as he passed the teacher, his expression souring as his eyes fell on you. He took his seat reluctantly.

"You don't sit there," he hissed from the corner of his mouth, sliding his glasses down his nose to rub his eyes. They were bloodshot and dull, thick shadows hanging below and leeching the colour from his face. His shirt was crumpled and one of his buttons was undone, as if he'd dressed in a hurry. Had he really woken up late? Or was that just an empty excuse to keep the teacher off his back?

You jotted a few notes into your exercise book as you spoke, unwilling to meet his eye. "I can't see the board from back there," you said pathetically.

"You never pay attention anyway. You're always reading those stupid manga books."

Your heart gave a loud thud. How did he know that? You sat behind him usually, so there was no way he could've known unless he turned to look at you in lesson. "W-would you like me to move?"

You held your breath as you waited for his answer, heart all-aflutter.

He screwed up his face. "Do what you want."

You talked little throughout the lesson, but still managed to exchange glances every now and then, and even shared a snigger at the expense of the teacher as she tripped over her chair.

As Sensei dismissed the class, you tripped over your own feet trying to catch up with Tsukishima as he left the room. Knocking past a student who was fumbling around on the floor with her belongings strewn about, you cut him off at the intersection of the hallway, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt and giving it a sharp tug. All of a sudden, the button unclasped and the sleeve flared open - your eyes were immediately drawn to the pale skin, exposing a jigsaw of small jagged lines that disappeared up his wrist.