You sat fearfully in your spot on the train as your e/c eyes took in the scene unfolding before you. A man in a white suit punched a boy with beautiful golden hair. You had recognized him your school, your dorms were placed close to each other, but even so, you still didn't know his name or exchange one word.

But you never thought you'd see him in this situation. The man in the white suit turned his head to look at the back of the train compartment.

"Are you jealous? Do you want to hit him too?"

Your face drained of color and made an effort to make yourself as small as possible. Not wanting to be seen.

"My name is Bruno Bucciarati. Answer me."

You pressed yourself against the window of your seat and tried to ignore the sound of someone puking. You made the grave mistake of turning around and saw five fingers lying in a puddle of spit before the boy clad in pink.

You lurched forward and slapped your left hand over your mouth and placed your other on your stomach—the feeling of bile rising up your throat. Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over at any second.

You pressed your eyes shut, so you didn't have to see the next thing to happen. You brought your knees up to your chest. Not daring to open your eyes until you heard everything turn quiet.

After what felt like hours, it fell silent. Slowly, you pried your eyes open, cautiously looking around for any sign of the two males. Your legs fell back to the floor of the train, and you visibly relaxed.

You raced out of the train as fast as you could when you got to your stop. You took a deep sigh of relief when you saw your school, planning on spending the whole night in your dorm trying to forget everything you saw.

I should have just bought cheap cereal in the lunchroom and stayed in for the whole day.

You walked through the building and made your way back to your dorm. A few people said hello, you said hello to a few people. It was normal, and you were very happy with normal.

But now, here you were, being held up in the air from the sides of your head, seeing a figure that looked like a dark puppet dressed as a king.

"You saw the lighter being relit, didn't you?"