“Izukkun!” You grin wide and jump onto the smaller boys back. You knew he’d be the last to leave his classroom.
He stutters your name out in surprise, releasing where he had clutched at his heart in panic. As you hook your arms around his neck and lean over him, you notice the newly made burn marks on the younger boy’s wrist.
And just as quick as that, a shadow falls over your being, “I~zuk~kun~” You chime out sadistically, “Hey~ who hurt you~?” You sing song.
He shudders at your tone, “I-it’s nothing! Really!”
You weren’t liked. Not really. People were friendly, sure. They respected you, most certainly. But not out of actual respect for you as a person.
You weren’t sure when it started, but at some point in time since you started school, people had started to become scared of you. You