There was a giddy impatience to your every action the next day, as if the hands on the clock couldn't tick by any slower. You'd silently count down the seconds to the end of each period, and that didn't go unnoticed by Hinata. So you shouldn't have been surprised when she began lunchtime with a question.

"Did something happen?"

"Huh?"

You looked up, mid-bite of your sandwich. Quickly you swallowed it, not without chewing thoroughly first.

"What do you mean?" You asked, not entirely sure what she was referring to.

"You seem weirdly excited today, and I keep seeing you look at the clock... Is there something important happening after school today?"

You didn't miss the way her eyes glued onto the extra bag you carried to school with you today. You're not sure if you're ready to give the whole truth, knowing just how headstrong she is. You had no doubt that she'd personally track those delinquents down to give them a good scolding, even if you told her that they've been beaten enough. Talk about rubbing salt in the wound.

So you settle for something vague, "I'm meeting with someone to return their bag."

You gestured to the bag she was already staring a hole into. Despite withholding most of the details, she seemed satisfied with your response, looking back up with a smile.

"Is that so?"

Well, only if he ended up coming back to the same place as yesterday. That would hopefully give you a chance of getting to talk to him more. Maybe become friends. And, dare you say, exchange numbers? For contact reasons, of course. Speaking of which...

"Hinata-chan, can I have your number?"

.

.

.

As you trekked the streets, homeward bound, you couldn't help the smile stretching across your lips. It sounds stupid, crazy even, to be so overly exuberant at the two strings of number in your contacts, and maybe it was, but you could honestly care less. When the memories of their smiles aren't enough proof that they welcome you here, then you simply need to open your phone and see their names. At the same time, this would give the device an use beyond ordering you around with a to-do list.

Retracing the road, with the recollection of yesterday as your only blueprint, you faintly recognized the wall that the delinquent was knocked into. A dried smear of red marks the spot. You approached it, as if to further confirm that this was indeed the same spot as yesterday. It was.

Here.

What were you supposed to do now? Waiting seems like the right answer, but there was no guarantee that he'd find his way back here. Or perhaps he had already sought you out, but as luck would have it, you missed one another by the factor of time alone. If that were the case, it'd be rather disheartening. But... it wouldn't feel right to hold your savior in such low regards, so you decided to wait. You have the time, you reasoned. It's Friday; the end of the week, and whatever you can do today can be done just as well on the following days off.

So you stood there, accompanying time as it ticked by.

You measured time in the way your shadow shifted, stretching farther and farther like it'd take off and leave you behind if given the choice. You lift your hand, waving at it, and it waved back, a stranger that had been with you for the entire length of your lifetime.

You measured time by the number of cars that passed you by; in colors of black, white, navy, red, and the occasional vibrant hues of orange, yellow, green and purple. When they drive by, you can sometimes hear sounds fading in and out. Louder as they approach, and softer as they leave. It's the sounds of songs to suit the varied tastes, and people talking loudly, happily, amongst themselves as they head out to their Friday night plans.

You measured time in how each cloud covered the rays of sunshine, giving you shade for the short while before it passed on. A slow moving cloud draped the world in diluted sunlight, and gray monotones overtook the cheery afternoon yellow. You gazed at it until the sun finally peeked out from behind, causing your eyes to shy away from the brightness. And you wonder; when a cloud blocks it from view, does the sun forget you just because it no longer sees you?

The sun began to set, and now it's as if you were taken back to yesterday. Warm tones of red, orange, yellow and magenta splotched the sky like an artist's canvas. You stood there with your own bag and the other heavier one, carrying items you only took a guess at. The only thing missing to replicate the scene was the owner of the bag himself.

You had waited for a rather long time, it seems.

Perhaps you should call it a day and return later. Tomorrow. He'd definitely be here tomorrow. But there was no actual proof of that; no concrete evidence to base your conviction on. It's merely hopeful wishing on your part that he wasn't just going to be a one time meeting. That his role in your story had more parts beyond saving you once and vanishing off the face of earth.

The last rays of warm sunlight was a reminder; telling you gently to go home, make something to eat, and then fall asleep under the moon's watchful eyes. And unlike the reminders from your phone, you obliged easily, mood dampened by how long you've stood there. Your legs were almost numb from the inactivity and, unsurprisingly, hunger. Heaving the bag up once more, you walked at a snail's pace, weighed down physically and emotionally.

And then Lady Luck decided to reward you for your patience. It came in the form of a lone figure sitting on the swing set, in a park that's conveniently located on your way home. He was surrounded by an aura of gloom and doom, which would be enough to scare off any kids that wanted to play in the area. If there were any in the first place. Instead, he was the only one there, and you can't help but think that this was all set up by the universe. That, or children in this world are particularly obedient and actually follow their curfews. You're unsure which of the two would be more believable in this context.

But this was your chance, and you'd be a fool not to take it.

With a new destination in sight, you turned into the park, where paved concrete gave way to toughened soil ground. Your pace starts off slow, progressively growing faster along with your anticipation. Thoughts flit through your mind; various ways to start off the conversation. But when you finally reached him, the only thing you could say was a greeting, simple as can be.

"Hello."

____

It took him a couple seconds to register the sound, as if he weren't expecting anyone to approach him. And if anyone had eyes, they would see perfectly well he was in no mood to be disturbed. How could he, when he had lost his school bag with his painstakingly taken notes, got scolded by his mom, and learned of a math test on the dreadful Monday morning? Not that his notes would have helped anymore now than it had before, which it had not. Shockers.

Yet just when he thought he had finally gotten the gist of the formulas practiced in class, misfortune made it a goal to cling to him like a gaggle of delinquents; too braindead to understand he was way out of their league. He speaks from experience, and what an experience it was, beating up those cocky third years that called him behind the school building a week ago. But unlike those idiots, whose names weren't even worth remembering, he couldn't just brawl his way through these problems. So they buzz around him like flies, annoying him to no ends. And here was another guy to add onto his problems. This one he could beat up, at least, and it'd help relieve the pent up frustration brewing within.

A snarl overtook his lips, and he found himself standing up to face whichever guy was brave enough to bother him.

Only it wasn't a guy, but a girl. And it was the girl he saved yesterday from the group of no good-doers. His fierce expression quickly fell, a provocated wolf no more than he is now a large, confused, dog.

And his gaze, which had moved up to meet your eyes, dropped back down to the bag you were carrying in your hands.

"Is that... my bag?"

____

At the sight of his uncharacteristically menacing look, however fleeting it may be, you took a step back. Instinctively, mind you, since you got the feeling he won't hurt you ever regardless of how he looked. But you know you don't look all that innocent in his eyes. Approaching him while holding the bag that he just so happens to be missing, you're simply setting yourself up for the misunderstanding.

"W-wait, I promise this isn't how it looks! I saw you left it behind yesterday and was hoping I could return it to you..." You trailed off, not sure what else you could say.

Since words have failed you, actions will do. You held the bag out to him, head lowered just enough that your eyes wouldn't meet. Or technically, your eyes wouldn't meet his glasses, still concealing what's beneath with its thick "transparent" lenses.

"Ohh..."

It was rather obvious to tell the exact moment he had retrieved the bag, by the heavy weight lifted off of your hands, no longer digging into the skin of your palms. Or perhaps you could tell based upon how his fingers brushed by yours as he reached for the straps.

"Thanks!"

Tilting your head back upright, you saw his mouth stretched in that same smile as yesterday, sharp canines and all. That was... rather easy. Was he really so gullible to go from doubting to trusting yours words in a split second? Or maybe he was extremely perceptive to know you were telling the honest truth. It could only be one of the two, no in between.

If he had noticed your scrutinizing stare, he didn't pay it any mind, instead rummaging through his bags to make sure all his stuff was still there. Which it was, since you didn't have the heart to go invading his privacy for no reason other than feeding your curiosity. If it was his name you wanted, you only need to ask him face to face. And now would be as good of a time as any.

"Can-"

"I'm so glad you found them! You don't know how much I needed these notes for the next test!" He grinned, unaware he interrupted you at all.

You let yourself fall into the flow of the conversation, your question shoved aside, "You're welcome, but I'm sure you would have done fine without them."

You tacked on a small laugh at the end, but was only greeted by silence. The boy had his head averted slightly to the side, unresponsive.

Maybe you worded it wrong and he thought you meant it as if it wouldn't be necessary for you to return his belongings. You should clear that up.

"I-I mean, you look smart and studious enough to get a good grade without studying!"

He flinched.

"And, and... you probably get the top grades in class!"

Your exclamation drawled out into a question the longer you held the last word in your mouth. And despite your best efforts, it doesn't seem to be having the intended effect on the boy whose mood looks to be dropping in the negatives. As the aura of gloom and doom returns, you could only wonder what you were saying wrong. Were you being too narrow minded in assuming he was only top in his class? Maybe he was a nationwide child genius whose intellect was praised by whatever school honored enough to be providing his education. If that were the case, then your compliments might have been unsubstantial for someone of his caliber. You bit your tongue, hoping you hadn't made a fool of yourself.

"...I have horrible grades."

"Huh?"

Are you hearing him right? Did the bespectacled guy, who looked like he could be the up and coming valedictorian for his graduating class, just said he had bad grades? Surely you must be going deaf.

But he only sank back into the swing seat with a defeated sigh, his bag falling beside him. He had none of that air of confidence that he displayed in the fight yesterday, nor the pretense of a student assured of his future. It was hard to believe you were still looking at the same person, if not for the way his eyebrows creased and his gritted teeth. You've misspoken early, this wasn't the look of a defeated person. Frustrated yes, but resigned no.

"...shouldn't have made that bet... mom's already mad I lost my bag... then I bring home a bad test score..."

At this point he was just mumbling to himself, your presence probably forgotten in his eyes. But rather than being discouraged, you were overjoyed by the amount of opportunities being presented to you on a silver platter. Was the universe feeling generous? Did it feel bad for forcefully making you mingle with the main characters, so now it was letting you make a friend outside of the plot? If so, you certainly wouldn't mind accepting the olive branch it was extending.

You cleared your throat, catching his attention.

"I can help you study... if you want." You added in the last part, making it clear that it was an offer, and not because you thought him to be dumb.

"Really?!" He jumped back to his feet, startling you in the process, as fast as he had gotten up when you first announced your presence to him in the park.

His enthusiasm almost made you second guess yourself, but you brushed aside any hesitation, "Yeah, sure. It's the least I can do after you helped me yesterday."

"Wouldn't want the person I'm indebted to repeating a year." You said it jokingly, so he would stop looking at you with that wide smile as if you told him you're a genie that would grant him three wishes, and not just a random girl helping him study.

"I definitely wouldn't want to repeat another year again!" He laughed as he said this, but you had a feeling he wasn't saying it jokingly like you had.

You chuckled along awkwardly, wondering if he had actually failed a year. You didn't have the chance to ask, though you doubt you would have taken the opportunity even if it presented itself to you, when you were interrupted.

GROWL

Of all the times your stomach could have chosen to complain of hunger, it just had to pick now, doesn't it? Though you can't blame it; the sun was setting and lunchtime felt like days ago. It didn't make it any less embarrassing, though, in front of this stranger that you barely know outside of his fighting skills, bad grades, and those thick glasses.

Now would be the perfect time for the universe to spare your dignity and send you far, far away to yet another world.

You blinked.

Nothing happened.

"Wanna go get some peyoung yakisoba? My treat for helping me study!" His smile was overly bright, not unlike the last intense beams from the dying sun in the backdrop.

"Oh, no that's alright, my place isn't all that far-"

GRUMBLE

You swore you've never felt yourself go red in the cheeks as quickly as you had then. You tried to pipe up a couple more times to reject the offer but your stomach growled in protest, clearly having a mind of its own.

"Come on!" He laughed heartily, amused but not mockingly. He had already grabbed his stuff and was halfway out the park, waiting for you just by the unoccupied bike racks.

"...Okay."

.

.

.

"What?! You've never had peyoung yakisoba?!" He stared at you flabbergasted, like you were some alien lifeform.

"N-no..."

"They're crazy good, you're totally gonna like them!!"

You noticed he smiled a lot, whether it's that cheeky smirk or the friendly unrestrained grin.

"...You sure you're not setting my expectations too high?"

"Definitely!"

But that's fine, you thought as his cheery mood washed over you. You like that smile.

____________________

____________________

In a world so unfamiliar, I found you.