I had always resented you so.

Kenma had been staring at you the whole time. It felt physically painful to pull his gaze away from you.

You were nothing like the messy, loud kid who had a habit of barging in his room — begging him to play.

You were nothing like the wide smiles and soft giggles during class hours — where Kenma had always been included in punishments because you wouldn't stop talking to him in-between lectures.

But for some reason, it infuriated him. Was the person in front of him, just a few meters away, really different from the ones he knew of?

Kenma didn't understand why. But seeing you again after so many years, not being able to catch a glimpse of this new persona of yours — it felt painful.

He resented you for wearing your heart on your sleeve — for being so expressive yet withdrawn at the same time. He hated how you looked at him before — as if he was the one who brought colors in your life. But the person he's seeing as of the moment felt devoided of life, of colors.

Where were you?