Sentarou inhaled. If drums had noses, this would be what they were smellin’, like, fifty percent of the time. (His case was kinda different, because he was with his drums over fifty percent of the time, but he’d just call it fifty percent for now.) The smell of a white sheet draped snug over ‘em, so that they couldn’t see the world, and the world could only see the essence of ‘em.
Yeah, that was a good way to think about it. If someone walked by right now, they’d only see Sen just barely there, outlined by the white fabric. Out of sight, out of mind. He thought back to his first meeting of Richie, with the kid findin’ him tucked under this thing and asking diligently for the roof key. He almost laughed out loud, thinkin’ of it— that’s what’d made him like Richie. His not backing down from the key, even though Sen was big and scary. He’d had a lot of good fun with that kid. Sen missed Richie a lot, maybe that was why he was replayin’ it with his mind. But nah, he wasn’t under the sheet because of him. Sen needed to relax. And it was after hours, anyway. There was only a cover and some wimpy tan sheets in his room. They couldn’t be tan. He’d taken the sheet off the drums in the band room— he felt bad for anyone that was actually playing those; they might miss it and have to come back to dusty drums— and now he was there in front of some doorway down some hallway, stacked up on some four chairs and beneath said sheet.
He breathed in its smell again. Nothing was more relaxing. He longed for his drums, for the sound of drums, for the sound of jazz, Moanin’ ringing out in his ears though there was nothing and no one who could be playing it…
And then things were bright. Someone had gone up and lifted the sheet off of him; he could hear it swish out into the air, and he looked up, and he saw…
Lee Mi Nam took a sharp breath in. First the right hand, then the left twice, jab after jab, and a release of air from his body with every other hit to make sure he was breathing correctly. The punching bag sure was taking a beating, but that was what it was there for, after all. For others, this might have been some sort of release, for stress, for anger, all sorts of things, but for Mi Nam, it was as natural as walking down the street.
Eventually, his exercise came to an end, and it was time for him to head back to his dorm. Take a shower, do some homework, and head to bed. All in all, a good day. He headed back to the locker rooms and removed the boxing gloves, tossing them aside and stretched his wrapped fingers a bit before pulling a tanktop on. The bag was slung over a shoulder, the gloves tied together and slung around his neck, and out into the halls he headed.
It was after hours now, and half of the building’s lights were off to conserve energy. It gave the school an eerie sort of feel, but he didn’t mind it much. In fact, it was kind of nice without people around. It was nice with people around too, but Mi Nam wasn’t a hard guy to please. He turns the corner, and he sees something strange he hadn’t been expecting. A white sheet, covering a bunch of chairs, but underneath them…there seemed to be a human form.
Mi Nam laughed a bit, scoffing to himself. What could it be but a person, right? But why would…well, why wonder when he could find out, right? Mi Nam walked over, silent as ever, and took hold of the sheet with a bandaged hand. In one fell swoop, the sheet was up, and when he saw a boy underneath, looking to be half-asleep, he just laughed.
“Sorry for interrupting your nap there, I was just…y’know, wondering.”
“I can just let you sleep if you want, though wouldn’t you be more comfortable back at the dorms?”
