It was disgusting. She had come to this city for their world renown sociology program, and here she was watching binge drinking frat boys torment a grown man. And Kaede had thought she’d had it bad: at least kids have something of an excuse. Grown ass adults picking on other adults like this though…
It had taken a while, but she finally located the victim between a walled flower bed and the brick wall of the Law building. She sat just outside the gap, leaning against the building’s cornerstone and taking out some work. For a long while, she stayed quiet, letting him get used to the sound of her pen scratching paper. After about ten minutes, she leaned over and peeked into hi hiding spot.
“Hey, so who is it that needs their ass handed to them?”
((physical note, in this verse Kaede grew her hair out so now it’s shorter and mainly black with pink remnants))
If this had been before the explosion, he would’ve immediately spoken up, talked to the young woman waiting outside of his makeshift hiding spot. Except he wasn’t and he’d never be.
Grateful for her tact though, Aaron listened to the endless steady beat of her pen scratching against her paper in an attempt to stop crying. Within the course of ten minutes, fortunately, he managed to steady his heart rate, while reducing quiet sobbing to sniffles. Picking his head up, he flipped his hood over so that from where she was standing, she wouldn’t be able to see his face.
It was courtesy, really.
“…No one,” he murmured, staring his knees with puffy red eyes. “It’s not like they’re going stop anyways.” He turned his head slightly towards her. “Is there something need from me?”
“No, but, you don’t have to hide your scars: I have the intro to Psych lecture a couple rows behind you. I’m awful with names though, sorry.”
She turned so that her back was against the same wall as his but so that she wasn’t actually in his hiding spot. No need or desire to make him feel uncomfortable. Which was why she reached up a hand and eased the elastic strap of her eye-patch up over her head. Instantly, Kaede felt naked and disoriented,as she always did with the patch off, but this was important.
She promptly went back to working on her paper. Her goal was to allow him to adjust and initiate the conversation of his own accord.
For a moment, he was confused; then why did she go looking for him? It wasn’t like anyone else had done the same. Usually they squirmed in his presence, uncomfortable with how the burns glared at them almost accusingly. “I…prefer to.” He murmured, motionless. “Makes me feel more comfortable.” About myself.
He continued to listen to her writing in an awkward silence while sneaking in little glances at her. Black hair with remnants of pink strands was what he noticed in the first look. Short in the second one. And in the third one…a scar over her eye, rendering it useless.
Just like him.
To be honest though, he had never really taken note of her in their intro Psych course, being too focused on getting through two hours filled with snickers, notes, and lots and lots of humiliation. Embarrassed by this fact, he blushed and picked the conversation up again.
“Aaron Ling.” He introduced himself softly. “Uh, I- sorry. I never actually took notice of you there, so…who are you?”
“It’s okay. I’m Akiyama Kaede. Well, Kaede’s my first name: I’m from Japan.”
She put her work down on her left side and held her chin in her hands, not quite making eye contact but looking in his general direction.
“I totally get what you mean about the comfort. I didn’t always wear the eyepatch, I didn’t need to after the wounds healed, but after the reaction I got from kids with it off… I’m grateful for being a wild child- the boys who openly made fun of me quickly learned not to do so (girls on the other hand…)- but that didn’t make me any less self conscious. For a long time I wore the patch as a courtesy to other people, then one day I woke up and realized I had gone to bed with the stupid thing on.”
She flicked the string with a smile on her face.
“So it’s become more of a statement of who I am, really. I feel naked without it. Like jewelry or underwear. Sorry, I didn’t mean to spill my life story on you without your consent,” She grinned at him, “That does look like a soft sweatshirt, though.”
Kaede snapped her fingers then.
“Oh hey! You want an apple?” She pulled a pair of granny smith’s out of her shoulder bag.
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