ā im all out of luck // killing-less au. closed: komaeda
Unlike Junko, Nagito Komaeda paid rapt attention to his lessons. He was lucky enough to get into this school (āSuper High School Level Good Luck,ā it hardly deserved to be called a talent); to let his mind wander would be disrespectful and, well. He felt the students and faculty deserved nothing less than utmost respect. Even if his own was worth so little, he would give it to them.
It was so dull, though, that he couldnāt help his meandering gaze. One by one his eyes fell on his classmates - or should he call them superiors?
He shook his head a bit, chasing the thoughts from his head, and turned his attention back to the board. However, the lesson had already come to a close.
When the bell rang for lunch, he allowed his classmates to push past him out of the room. He was the last one out, as usual, save for those who stayed behind to eat in the classroom. He gave a little wave to them as he walked through the doorway.
Komaeda had little difficulty navigating the crowded hallways; in almost no time he found himself in the cafeteria. The crowd there was a bit overwhelming, to be honest; so much hope in one room? How could he possibly compare?
There was one person, however. One who gave off a completely different aura from the rest. He recognized her face, her fluffy pink pigtails, though he wasnāt entirely sure what her name was. Nonetheless, the feeling she gave him as he walked past her was entirely despicable and entirely unpleasant.
Despair.
He ignored it, however, and continued on his way. Were he in another place, another scenario, he might have approached her, but at the moment he saw no need. Even despair could lead to hope, after all.
And, in any case, the lunch period was too short to waste on confrontation.
Lunch was a thing Junko Enoshima wasn't fashionably late to, but it wasn't as if she planned on eating. But she still felt a little peckish, and what's cuter than strawberry milk? It wasn't too many calories, anyways. She could be allowed to binge every once in awhile, even if that binge was some milk. Or chocolate later? Or the blood of her enemies?Ā
No, too fattening. Too many calories. Strawberry milk would have to do.
She turned away from her lactose friend, about to look though her bag for her phone. WhoĀ knew how many texts she had? Sheesh, it's so hard being famous. Hot people have problems too, you know. But somehow, she got this feeling like she was being watched.
Beaming as she felt a rectangle of plastic and a jumble of keychains, she pulled out her phone and opened it. The screen read "0 New Messages," but everyone just had to be busy. That had to be the explanation. It's not like she, you know, didn't have any friends or anything.
Closing her phone and perking up from her bag, the gyaru looked up to see some kid with the messiest hair she'd ever seen walk out. This shouldn't had pissed her off, but for some reason, it made her want to smash his face against the wall and watch the blood pour from his mouth.
No, no, it didn't make her feel anything.
Anything at all.
But she had nothing better to do, and tracking this kid down and inquiring why he was ogling her like that sounded like a fun idea. Might liven up the area, after all. Seeing if she could, maybe, just maybe, entertain herself for the next hour and a half. Chew on him a bit, test to see if she can make him squirm. Sounded like fun, like a grand old time!Ā
She stood up out of her seat, smoothing out her skirt and adjusting herself. Staring for the door, she called out towards the boy.
"Hey, kid! Where do you think you're going?"
