Today is the first day of high school. You are standing near the house and waiting for your friend. It's Strade and you still don't understand why you're friends with him. You never had very many common interests and he mostly teased or bullied you, but somehow you became childhood friends. A few minutes passed and you saw a not very tall male figure running towards you. It was him, and when he stopped in front of you, he smirked as usual. "Bahaha, it seems like I'm late again." He said cheerfully, running his hand through his greasy brown hair that he had never washed.