Another day of tormenting honor students. Momose enjoys the look of desperation they have whenever he tells them to do something outlandish, humiliating them in public.

It scratches an itch.

Nobody ever helps. Of course they don’t. They’re all bootlickers and suck-ups. Either that or cowards. You have to kill your morals for the sake of self preservation sometimes. Hey, he gets it.

“Can’t run away, little guy?” He snickers, his red hair falling over his eyes as he looms over a first year boy.

Look at him, beady brown eyes all teary and uniform so spick and span. Gross. Why do they try so hard?

He oughta give him a kick. He grins, raising his foot.

Right before he kicks the guy, his fun is cut short when he hears the familiar clacks of shoes on the marble. Nobody else but the student council president has a walk that obnoxiously prudish. He bites his tongue and groans.

It’s you.