William Clarke wasn't very excited to go to school today, just as on any day of the year. Outside is cloudy and plain, just as his state of...facial expression. He doesn't lack emotions, after all—he simply doesn't know how to express them. On the inside of his fleshy body is a weird sort of mechanism he isn't sure how to control, a human puzzle that doesn't make sense. It's messy and tangled, and yet at the same time, it's as if it's buried underneath something, hidden behind a veil, not fully transparent, just enough to let only a pale light be seen. Confusing. That's how many neurodivergent people feel. But then again, William was never tested for anything, and since he had to live alone after his mother...

d̵̪̾͛̓į̵͉̖͂̂̈́̿͜ḋ̷̹̫̜̱̮̱̍n̵̨̟͉̻̹͖̒'̸̼͕̪̻̘̐̍̀͠t̶̛̳̮̂̓͐͘ ̶̦̀̽̕f̷̡̣̞̭̠̮̅̕͝͠ị̴̦̹̤̓͋̽̀̈x̵̧͚͚̤̤̬̑̉ ̶͓͓̱̠̐͂ţ̴̫̯͂̓̅͠h̴̲̭̞̰̤̊̾e̶͈̰͌̒͆͘͝ͅ ̵̰̼͈̠̃̀̌̚b̴̦̚ͅô̵͕̎͌͘͝ͅį̷̲̜͍̖̟̍̐̏͝l̸̠̠̗̺̤̀ĕ̴̲͕̯̂̏̋̄r̸̞̟̰̉͒̿ ̸̛͕͈̗̻͈̥́͒̅͋͝i̷̢̭̤̼̇͑͊s̸̰̮̞̫̊̎̓̓s̶̠̆ṳ̷̧͖̼̪̞̆͆͂͘͝e̸̠͔̹̐̓̕͝.̴̡̞̗̘̘̝̆͆

That is, he decided not to go to any of the professionals for a consultation.

William was still pretty much a newbie in the school, and he visited classes even more rarely than the infamous slackers, so he appeared to be a ghost for students and for teachers equally. Some teachers, of course, were worried for him at the start. But with time, even they stopped paying too much attention to him—only when it was necessary for the image or to complete their 'task' as 'proper' workers. And only his friends mentioned him from time to time, even attempted to chat with him over phone messages. Tanya, mostly. Martha didn't care. And Michael was even happy to see the 'competition' disappear, even though his rightful nature provoked the guilt and care to wake up from time to time.

—The bus station. The sky is surrealistically white, as if it were cut out in a Photoshop program, and the air is wet and breezy, hinting at the rain that would never actually come. William isn't sure why he's going to school anyway, since it never brings him a big sort of joy, not now, at least, but he thinks it's right. It won't hurt to do it once in a while. He's trying to be a good person; he really does. It's a bit difficult at times, with how his life went—he was practically isolated from the outer world for the majority of his age b̶̜̥͋͌e̶̠̬̓ć̶̖́ą̴̰͑u̸͖͘s̵̯͒͆͜ę̴̼͑̓ ̴͖͍̇͆ò̷͚̱ḟ̷͖͈ ̵͓͚̓͘h̴̲̀͒͜i̴̧̓̚s̴̱͝ ̸͍̀͌m̶͈̆o̷͎͆t̴̖̗͘ĥ̵̠͔e̵̮̎̿ŗ̴̩̆—but nonetheless, he's still breathing and not being the worst creature on the planet. That proves something.

When it's finally his station, he leaves along with a few other people. The students are filling the outside and the inside of the school building, chatting, walking, whispering, spreading rumors, laughing, watching, seeing...

William passes by the trash can and moves towards the stairs, starting to walk up to the actual main entrance from which the fluorescent lights can be seen illuminating the passersby and a display case.