Chapter Text
You're the sun itself. This is what Ayato has confirmed to himself whenever he has the opportunity to catch a glimpse of you during the designated playtime at his elementary school.
He does this a lot whenever no one's looking; study other kids meticulously, like a cold-blooded scientist, and try to pinpoint what it is that makes them normal and not him, what it is that unites them and yet separates him from reaching their 'world'.
You're always smiling, he can't help but wonder if your cheeks ever hurt from constantly performing the said action. He's unable to recall a single instance where you didn't act like a happy-go-lucky moron.
Ayato doesn't feel anything, but if he did, he thinks he would be envious of you and everything you stand for. Envious of what you have, of what he can't have. Radiance.
Even at his young age, he knows that he's doomed to live a life of monotony and indifference. Calling it a 'life', in the first place, is, in itself, ironic.
In a way, his looks match that sensation of undisputed nothingness that he's more than just a little familiar with — he's plain in every possible way imaginable, which is like a direct reflection of his dreary emptiness.
His mother always reassures him that he'll be rescued one day. That his 'savior' will arrive, like an angel descending from Heaven down to Earth, just to resurrect him. To breathe life into him.
He's not sure how much he believes her. To him, that's just her way of trying to cheer him up. A white lie, it must be.
Yet he still can't help but wonder... If he could be just like you for a day, — kind, smiley and always bright, with lots of friends — would his existence be given true meaning and purpose?
It's another day. The sun is shining. The rest of the kids his age are running around at the school playground.
Then there's you, building a sandcastle with everyone else volunteering to help you.
Ayato looks away, blankly gazing at nothing in particular, the soccer ball in his hands getting squeezed tighter by the second before ultimately getting dropped onto the rocky ground.
It's another day, indeed. Just another one of many for him.
"You're so weird!"
"Yeah, everyone is always scared of you! Even the teachers!"
"No wonder! He's a freak of nature, after all!"
The cackling proceeds to get louder, and the kids standing in front of him don't bother with hiding their sadism.
Ayato glances at his belongings, simply blinking. They're all submerged and floating around in the water. His mother will have to buy new school supplies.
He wonders what they accomplish with this. He thought that bullies only picked on those who gave them satisfactory reactions, and he never reacted to anything.
Perhaps there's a sick pleasure in that, too. They do whatever they want with him because they know that there will be no repercussions, no consequences.
They don't view him as human, as a living, breathing human being just like the rest of them, so roughing him up isn't seen as a sin. This is Ayato's only explanation.
What's a human? What makes someone human? What does it take? Ayato purses his lips in thought.
"Say something already!" The main bully, the ringleader of the operation, grabs hold of his collar, pulling him closer before aiming his punch at Ayato's face.
Ayato's no stranger to pain. Before, discomfort could have been found in it, now the sensation he gets from being hurt is numb.
"Quit it!" A new voice pipes up, tiny feet stomping on the ground as the silhouette becomes clearer.
"Crap! It's (Y/N)-chan!"
"She'll tell on us!"
"Let's go!"
Ayato gets released dismissively, discarded like trash. He stares at their retreating figures, sighing. Then he redirects his attention to his things, all drenched and ruined.
It'll be such a pain getting them out... His shoulders sag in defeat.
Surprisingly enough, it's you who rushes in to help, the cold water reaching up to your knees while you grab his stuff and pull them out, one by one. With care, he feels compelled to note.
"There you go!" You exclaim cheerfully, as if there's a reason to be happy, handing him back everything. He frowns; pages of his notebooks peeling off and water dripping everywhere.
"It's okay. I was going to throw them away in the trash." Ayato says, not daring to look you in the eyes, finding the ground more interesting.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Well, can I keep them, then?" You ask shamelessly, hugging his notebooks to your chest.
Ayato's eyebrows don't shoot up, but he wonders if you're able to discern his absolute puzzlement. "What do you need them for?"
"I want to become Ayato's friend. No, best friend! So I need to learn everything about you!" You grin brightly, giving him a huge toothy smile, as if the answer was obvious and predictable.
This is the first thing Ayato feels in his life — bewilderment.
"What?!" His eyes widened to the size of saucers, almost popping out of his sockets. His voice echoes loudly, which is a miracle because he never makes a sound above forty decibels.
All the while, you continue to smile. If anything, you look even happier to have expressed your desire to become his closest confidant.
Ayato has to use his hand in order to close his slacked jaw and put it back into its proper place.
You're obviously joking around, there's no way you're serious. This is a prank that his bullies put you up to, that has to be it.
Still. The way you look at him, with your eyes round and innocent, and smile bigger than any other he'd ever seen, he concludes that... no. You're not making fun of him, you're not toying around with him.
Honestly, he's not sure which he'd prefer right about now. He doesn't want your attention to be on him. He doesn't want to be liked. He doesn't want to be hated.
He just wants to be ignored. That's the lesser evil of them all.
One thing is certain — you're far more stubborn and persistent than he could ever imagine or give you credit for.