NS: You know the rules right. The first to ask a question is the other person’s slave.

HS: Of course.

After a while

HS: What did you do when you quit school?

NS: Eat, Sleep. Eat, Sleep. Sleep.

HS: Why did you come back? I thought you didn’t like school.

NS: Just because. I thought that I couldn’t live or die this way anymore. So at least I went outside onto the streets, but there was no where else to go except school. Also, I remembered my moms request to graduate high school.

HS: Good job, bastard.

NS: Hey… Get me some water.

HS: Me?

NS: You talked to me first. You are a slave now.


So where did it all begin? We had our reading time together, and I wasn’t even aware of you being across the table. Since when have I felt that touching you didn’t require consideration, no more? Since when have you become some sort of endearing but painful memory in my mind? How tears would quickly pool in my eyes just by looking at you, but we always said we’re only business, and nothing more. The days that we’ve gone through together made me feel like I was repeating my distant high school days. And this hollow inside my heart keeps calling for you, waiting for the moment when we would meet again, surviving the cold long days, hand in hand.