《SINFONIA: Oneshots》


 Claude: Dare

    He was a senior student, two years older than Claude was. Not all that tall, slightly tanned, not scrawny but not particularly muscular either - an average 15-year-old, Claude would have said.


    "So, what do we have here?" the older boy asked teasingly, raising his small, dark eyebrows in a mocking manner Claude certainly didn''t enjoy looking at.


    Although he had deliberately been invited here along with some other first year boys, Claude had soon understood he and the others were here solely to be made fun of. This was nothing but a jest, a way for the older boys to humiliate the younger ones; to show they were the kings of this school because they were older, and as such somehow had the natural right to boss the younger ones around.


    This didn''t sit too well with Claude, who for all his life had gotten used to giving orders to others rather than taking them himself.


    "Are you going to sing to us?" the boy continued and laughed, now directing his attention entirely to Claude instead of the group of juniors as whole. "Or will you give me a kiss? You''re so pretty that you wouldn''t need to sing or dance if you did that."


    He laughed again, but this time Claude interrupted him:


    "Just one kiss? Is that all?" he asked, as if he had taken seriously the other boy''s obviously joking suggestion.


    "Yeah, just one kiss," the other replied and laughed again at the junior student''s naivety. Of course he had not been serious - even if he did admit the younger boy looked cute, like a girl, so it probably wouldn''t be allthatbad.


    "Fine, then," Claude nodded and took a confident step towards the senior. "Just one kiss."


    He had never kissed anyone before, but Claude feigned confidence as he approached the now silent boy. The older student looked confused, flustered even, but as he realized all the other boys around them now excitedly waited to see how the show would go on, he understood he couldn''t just back down now.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "Hey, you can''t be serious, are you that dense?" he asked as a final last attempt to avoid what was soon to happen. He had taken one shaky step back, away from Claude.


    "I''m not particularly fond of singing or dancing in front of others," the blond responded and placed his slender hands against the upperclassman chest. The older boy flinched, face burning red, and the others around them stayed silent, holding their breaths as they watched the scene unfold. It wasn''t the kiss they were looking forward to, however. Rather, it was the tension between the two boys that interested them so; a challenge to see which one would be forced to back down. Could a first-year really overpower a third year, or would the junior be reminded of his place in this school''s hierarchy?


    Still resting his hand against the boy''s chest, Claude leaned a bit forward. He did it slowly, almost teasingly, as if trying to see if the boy''s nerves would finally crack; the upperclassman''s entire face had gone bright red by now. Claude could feel the boy''s warm, shaky breath against his face as he tiptoed to match the height of the other. He let his eyes rest, remaining now only half open, and he started moving his hands, wrapping them slowly around the upperclassman. Someone watching whistled at this.


    Their lips were now almost touching. He could feel the tension in the room, both the one between the other boys and them, and the one between him and the nervous boy in front of him.


    Claude moved his face forward,


    past the boy''s lips,


    next to his right ear and spoke in a soft tone:


    "Don''t suggest something you have no guts to go along with."


    The older student went pale, and the entire audience started screaming and clapping hands, yelling incoherently about how Claude had won and how he had made a fool out of the older boy. What had happened just now had clearly made the older students excited, and the entire room had returned back to its liveliness - except that this time they were all simultaneously focusing on Claude.


    "Can''t believe a first grader would do that!"


    Claude smiled in humble manner, averting his eyes from the other boys and feigning shyness. However, deep inside Claude was satisfied and proud of what he had done, and was very much enjoying the undivided attention he now received as a result.


    Claude took a fast, arrogant glance at the upperclassman he had humiliated, and licked his lips.

 Claude: Fight

    "What is your damage?" Claude asked, his lip twitching a little in annoyance as he stared at the older boy.


    "I''m sick and tired of your constant games, pretty boy, that''s what," the upperclassman, Anthony, sneered mockingly. "Other guys might love you because you''re pretty and room with Chris, but I''m not some sort of stupid sheep. You''re not the king of this school, and I''m here to show you your damn place!"


    "Hey, cut it out!" a boy standing near them shouted.


    "Yeah! Leave Claude alone! another replied.


    "Anthony is right! Show him he can''t do just whatever he pleases here just because he is pretty!"


    "Claude don''t listen to them, they''re just jealous because their own rank was lowered this morning!"


    "Go Anthony! Show who is the man here!


    The boys started yelling in unison, one side, which was the clear majority, cheering for Claude, another for Anthony. The two boys in the middle of the whole storm kept staring at each other, blue eyes meeting green with a taunt.


    "I''m not going to fight you, Anthony. It proves nothing," the blond replied calmly, but his confrontational look had not disappeared from his face.


    Then, as a reply, Anthony slapped Claude''s cheek, and all the boys around them gasped almost exaggeratedly.


    "It''s a duel!" one of the boys shouted. "How old fashioned!"


    "There is gonna be a fight!" another yelled, and at that moment all the boys gathered around Anthony and Claude, forming a circle.


    "What is it, Claude? Scared?" Anthony jeered and cracked his knuckles. "You might look like a girl, but no other boy is coming to your rescue,princess."


    Claude laughed loudly.


    "Is that supposed to insult me?" he asked and his expression started forming a viciously arrogant smile. "I know what I look like. Congratulations for having eyes,Anthony," Claude continued with the kind of cocky self confidence that made Anthony grit his teeth visibly.


    "Shut up!" the other boy yelled and charged at Claude. However, Claude managed to avoid the attack easily and jumped out of the angry upperclassman''s way. Quickly he rolled up his sleeves and then gestured Anthony to come at him.


    "Try me," he seemed to say, with an arrogance a boy as small and weak as Claude should in no way display to someone clearly stronger than him.


    "To hell with you!" Anthony yelled again, this time even angrier after having his first attack missed.


    Claude avoided him again.


    "Stop dodging me! he screamed and gave Claude no rest. The self assured expression had disappeared from Claude''s face, but it was simply because he was focused: even one misstep and his entire face would be disfigured forever by Anthony''s large, strong fists that currently were punching air, but could very likely hit Claude if he wasn''t careful.


    But no matter how Anthony tried, he couldn''t hit Claude. Claude, in turn, didn''t even try to land a hit on his opponent, and instead fully focused on avoiding the other boy and his rage.


    A junior student, Thomas, was watching all this from the sidelines.


    "This is like a bullfight..." Thomas whispered to himself. He was standing a little further away from the circle of enthusiastic boys watching the battle, but nevertheless Thomas was looking at the fight with a keen eye.


    The PE hall''s door opened next to him, and in dashed Chris, the prefect.


    "What''s this commotion?!" Chris asked but didn''t raise his voice: he saw Thomas was standing right there, and clearly decided to ask him first instead before stopping anything.


    "There is a fight going on," Thomas replied calmly.


    "Oh, great," Chris sighed and held his hand against his head. "Who this time. Marth and Jones? Or is it those Edmund and Oliver at it again?"


    "Claude and Anthony," the younger boy answered.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "Claude?" the prefect''s eyebrows raised. "What, why?"


    "Some upperclassmen don''t like him and his guts, and Anthony decided to teach him a lesson, apparently. Are you going to stop them?" Thomas was curious of what Chris would do: normally he would have called the fight over already, but now he was clearly holding himself back.


    "Hoo boy," the prefect sighed again, but this time smiling a little. He leaned against the wall next to Thomas. "Let them continue."


    "But why?" Thomas asked silently. He didn''t understand Chris'' reasoning. "Claude is going to get hurt."


    "No he won''t," Chris replied firmly, looking serious, almost bored with his eyes half closed. "Anthony made a mistake in starting this kind of battle with Claude."


    "He did?"


    "Yeah. Claude might not be very strong or tall. His built is very delicate, actually. Once punch and he''ll be on the floor."


    "I can see that. So, why?"


    "Claude never gets involved into anything he isn''t certain of being able to go through. It just isn''t something he does, simply." Chris shrugged, but this time with a small grin. "As his roommate I have already seen just what kind of wits that boy has. Anthony will lose. I''m sure of it."


    The two turned their attention back to the fight. Anthony had started to get tired now, one useless charge after another. He had tried to hit Claude, kick him, punch him and even use his entire body to slam Claude on the ground. But the blond just kept dodging and avoiding his attacks, moving like this was some sort of dance competition. And, much to Anthony''s dismay, Claude seemed nowhere near as tired as he was. He wasn''t smiling nor did he have strength to provoke Anthony, but his breathing had not gone particularly heavy or fast quite yet unlike Anthony''s, who was already panting.


    "You... son of a bitch..." he huffed and swung his massive hand, only managing to partially touch Claude''s ponytail as he yielded once more.


    "What is it, Anthony? Are you staring to get tired?" a boy from the circle of spectators shouted.


    "Shut up!" the older boy yelled, and at that moment his attention was taken away from Claude. Claude saw his chance coming, and using his upper body to balance himself, the blond used his lower body to tackle the unsuspecting Anthony onto the ground.


    Surprised by Claude''s sudden attack, Anthony yelled as he hit the ground with a loud thud. However, he still had the strength to immediately roll himself away from Claude''s upcoming kick, and he managed to avoid it just barely. The audience screamed at this sudden change in offense and defense.


    "Anthony won''t give up with something like this," Thomas commented.


    "Wait for it," Chris said and crossed his arms.


    Anthony had cleared his head and was now standing again.


    "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" he yelled at the excitedly screaming audience. "I still haven''t lost! I won''t... I won''t lose to someone like him!"


    He stood up and angrily tried to punch the blond standing in front of him. However, Claude knelt down and avoided the attack, and before Anthony could balance himself back after his strike, Claude used all his strength to bolt up from the ground level and punch Anthony right into his jaw.


    The audience broke into cheers and screams as the older boy physically jumped up a little from the impact. Claude had to balance himself back again too from using his entire body to the attack: it seemed he had hurt his own hand in the process, but it didn''t seem to be anything major.


    Anthony fell on the ground, and this time he didn''t move for a while.


    "Did Claude kill him?!" a high pitched voice of a younger student gasped.


    "No, idiot! He is just knocked out!" another replied.


    "He is coming back to his senses again!"


    Anthony groaned on the floor but he didn''t stand up. Claude was standing further away from him, huffing, unable to keep his posture straight anymore.


    "Claude is the winner!" the audience the started screaming in unison. "Claude did it! He actually beat Anthony!"


    "With only two whole strikes, nonetheless!"


    Anthony''s friends rushed to check on their friend, but the other boys started approaching Claude and cheering for him. However, they couldn''t get far as Chris raised his voice.


    "Alright, enough of this show!" he yelled and clapped his hands together. "You all are grounded, immediately go to the headmaster''s office for a punishment for this ridiculous act."


    He turned his attention to Anthony''s friends. "You there, take your hot-blooded friend to the nurse''s office and then follow the other boys to the office."


    Chris then looked at Claude. "And Claude, you''ll stay."


    After he was done yelling, all the boys started dragging themselves out of the hall, some muttering curses at Chris from under their breath. The prefect, however, feigned ignorance at that and instead waited for Claude to come to him.


    The two boys stood face-to-face in silence until the hallway was completely empty - Thomas leaving as the last person.


    "Claude, I''m disappointed in you," Chris finally started.


    "That''s what you say, but you didn''t even try stop the fight. You knew I would win," Claude replied and attempted a smirk, but he was far too tired to do so.


    "Shut up, I didn''t ask for your opinion on my judgement."


    "So, what is my punishment?" Claude asked as if he couldn''t care less, but Chris being mad at him did hurt him a tiny bit. But Claude was, ultimately, too proud of his own win to feel any guilt, and he knew Chris well enough to tell he would not give him a hard punishment. Claude was special, after all. He was certain of it.


    "Are you going to kiss me as punishment?" he suggested teasingly.


    "The only thing you''ll be kissing is dust. Claude, you''ll do volunteer cleaning work in the old history classroom for one week. Alone."


    "W-what? B-but it''s so dirty there?" Claude huffed, not believing what he had just heard.


    "Precisely. I expect you to do as good work dodging the spider webs as you did dodging Anthony there," Chris smiled. "You''re dismissed. Go to your room, you won''t get any food today."


    Claude felt angry and offended for actually been given a punishment like this, but he couldn''t help but feel glad Chris had, more or less, given him special treatment anyway. Without saying a word, Claude walked past Chris towards the doors.


    Only when he was already holding the door''s handle, he turned slightly around and said: "So, who did you place your bets on?"


    Chris didn''t answer.

 Claude: Adoration

    "I''m not into guys, you know?" he said while holding Claude around his waist. "Most of us aren''t. You and I both know it. But with no cute girls in this school, sometimes you just gotta... take what you get, right?"


    "Mmm-h," Claude responded, swirling his long, pale fingers around the boy''s curly brown hair. "Why are you telling me this, exactly?"


    "I dunno....," the other replied. "Probably got a bit drunk. Wouldn''t even be here otherwise."


    "Fool," Claude laughed softly, mocking the other.


    "We like you because you look like a girl, that''s all."


    Claude continued smiling, but this time through gritted teeth.


    "And we fear you because you... Well, nobody can tell what''s going on in that pretty little head of yours, y''know? You''re smart, way too smart. It''s kinda scary, ya know how to ruin lives if ya want to."


    He was obviously drunk by the way he slurred words and sometimes slipped to an accent he had probably tried to hide. Claude knew he probably wouldn''t even remember this moment between them at all tomorrow, much less any details of what exactly he had said to him.


    And of course Claude knew.


    He had known from the beginning that the flirting he did would not have been received the same way had it not been for the way he looked.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    He knew a lot of the respect that came from the others was purely because Claude knew how to be entertaining and not let too much out. He knew they liked him because he knew how to put up a show, and to appeal to their adolescent need for physical affection and some vague idea of romance without still going too far to risk their reputation.


    It was a game, after all.


    And really, Claude was not much different from them. He, too, yearned for that kind of affection. He wanted someone to hold him, feel someone else''s presence close to his. He wanted to feel, even if for a moment, that he was the most important person to someone else. He wanted to be wanted and important even momentarily, to receive the validation he constantly found himself seeking.


    So, everyone got something good out of this, didn''t they? And nobody even got hurt if they knew what they were getting into, and everyone knew that.


    But it did sting to be reminded during the moment Claude had been waiting for that this was all a ruse, but he swallowed his anger and disappointment, and focused only on the attention.


    The boy opened his drunken mouth again, but this time he didn''t get to say anything as Claude interrupted him. Smiling, but with a somewhat aggressive overall disposition, he spoke:


    "If you don''t want to continue your night in the principal''s office for being busted for drinking, I''d really recommend you to just keep your mouth shut and do what you''re supposed to do instead of babbling about. Are we clear?"


    The boy flinched, and after a moment of confused hesitation, he slowly nodded.


    "Fuck... Yer right. Sorry, don''t tell anyone I got wasted. It''s not like I hate ya."


    "Good, then just stay quiet and don''t think."


    Claude wrapped his arms closer around the other boy as he kept playing with his hair, trying to forget the words he had heard, focusing only on the moment at hand.


    The closeness he felt, the simple adoration he received.


    It was enough. It was all he really needed to feel validated.


    So, then, why did he let the boy''s words bother him so?

 Jet: Scarface

    The whispering started the very moment Jet walked out of the class and stepped in the hallway. It was nothing out of ordinary for him, however, as he had endured this sort of behavior back in his old school already. He was more than aware of how the scars over his left eye were visible for everyone to see, the dark, rough and deep furrows travelling across his face. Added by the fact it was not all that common for someone to have a hair as dark as his, he had known he would be the topic of whispers and gossips at school the moment he had shown his face there.


    Not many years ago, a smitten girl with an obsession over his deep blue eyes had attacked him. Her long nails had tried to dig his eye out with animalistic, rough motions that had permanently damaged his skin; the movements he could still sometimes feel burning against his face¡¯s skin in his nightmares. Although she had not succeeded in her mission and Jet miraculously retained his eyesight, the scars on his face were deep and ugly, and they would never heal. Every time he looked in the mirror he would remember the girl who did this to him; the bitter, fear stained memories he would have preferred to forget altogether.


    That¡¯s when the whispers had started and entered Jet¡¯s life to stay. People would steal morbidly curious glances at him, whisper when they thought Jet wouldn¡¯t see or hear them, and some would do that without even bothering to pretend they weren¡¯t talking about Jet. The moment other people had seen his scars the first time Jet had felt like he was no longer quite human: to the way he was treated with a mixture of pity, curiosity and, worst of all, fear, was how people usually felt about animals rather than human beings. He had become something else, someone who wasn¡¯t quite part of the group no matter where he went. An outsider, a monster donning a human¡¯s skin.


    As he walked across the hallway with a book pressed against his chest, Jet could clearly hear the sounds of the other boys whispering and talking about him:


    ¡°That¡¯s the new junior? What happened to his face?¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t he a son of some sort of mafioso? Look at his hair too, he isn¡¯t from around here!¡±


    ¡°I heard he fought a gang leader and received his scars from that fight!¡±


    ¡°And I heard he got them from his father as a punishment for misbehaving!¡±


    So many stories, all of them false.


    None of those things were the actual truth, but these rumors seemed to entertain the bored boys. In all-boys school the boredom was often very visible, and the boys talked about anything that could even remotely keep their attention - whether those things were real or not were only secondary things, unneeded small details ruining an otherwise good story.


    Jet had only within a day learned that everyone either feared him, or alternatively respected him too much to even talk to him - often, among these boys, it was both. Everyone thought he was some sort of delinquent who had received his scars from dangerous and aggressive behavior, and a very popular rumor also was that his father was a leader of a criminal gang. Nobody wanted to mess with Jet and cause him trouble, but in their fear they also felt too intimidated to as much as talk to him outside of classroom group activities urged by the teachers.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Jet only had books to read to pass time today - or so he thought.


    ¡°Hey, are you one of the first years? Russo?¡±


    Out of nowhere a boy slightly older than him appeared, his face covered in plasters and small wounds. He was slightly taller than Jet was, and his hair was messy, short and light brown in colour. He had an athletic build for a boy his age and seemed so old Jet had hard time estimating his age, although he guessed he could be a third year.


    ¡°U-uh, yes, that¡¯s me. Just call me Jet,¡± he found himself replying, instinctively clutching the book against his chest. Although the boy didn¡¯t seem hostile, Jet was always on his toes around people, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.


    ¡°I¡¯m Leonhard, but call me Leon! I hate my full name, it¡¯s so weird!¡± the boy smiled, his dark blue eyes curiously observing Jet and his reactions. He didn¡¯t seem to pay attention to his scar or even take glances at it, which admittedly caught Jet off guard. ¡°We¡¯ll be roommates this year! Want to hang out with me?¡±


    This all came so sudden to Jet that he was at a loss of words. Hang out? With this cheerful boy? Surely this had to be some sort of joke. His friends were probably waiting behind the corner to tackle Jet or make fun of him or something.


    But as Jet kept looking at Leon with a dumbfounded expression, he saw nothing even vaguely similar to hostility or bad intentions in Leon¡¯s demeanour: he was relaxed, his hands lazily in his pockets as he kept smiling at Jet and waiting for his answer.


    ¡°Sure¡­ I wouldn¡¯t mind,¡± Jet finally answered after assessing the situation, and he found himself nodding awkwardly.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go! I¡¯m going to show you the whole school!¡± Leon grabbed Jet¡¯s hand gently, but firmly enough to take the boy with him. Jet almost dropped the book he was holding, and just barely managed to keep it from falling as Leon tugged him forward.


    ??-------------------------¡è------------------------??


    Just as he had promised, Leon showed Jet everything. From the classrooms to basement all the way to areas that had ¡°no entry¡± attached to their entrances (Leon ignored all of them, and Jet couldn¡¯t help but follow his lead).


    ¡°Actually there is so much more in here, but I want to show them a little later. This school has so many things going on it¡¯s impossible to show them all at once,¡± Leon explained after they had sat down on the nearby stairs. ¡°Also, I think it¡¯s better if I show some places when there are less people walking around. Everyone is always so excited on the first day they keep wandering around. In a few weeks though everyone is going to be sitting in the lounge and lazing around, or just be in their rooms.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for showing me around, Leon,¡± Jet thanked him politely.


    ¡°No need to thank me! When I heard I¡¯d get a first year as my roommate I was super excited! I decided I want to make friends with him, no matter what!¡± His voice then got quieter as he added: ¡°And also... I saw the way the other boys looked at you, and I didn¡¯t like it, so I decided to pull you with me instead. It¡¯s no fun if your first impression of this place is going to be worthless rumors and nasty whispers.¡±


    Jet¡¯s first impression of Leon had been that he was rather simple: he expressed his feelings very openly and dragged people with him without asking any questions. He was the leader type, definitely, the kind who didn¡¯t need to make an effort to make people like them. But Jet had not really expected this side of Leon, the more considerate side he got to witness now.


    Nevertheless, he was grateful of it.


    ¡°Thank you, Leon,¡± Jet found himself replying, a hint of a smile on his lips. ¡°I¡¯m glad I got a roommate you like.¡±


    Leon visibly perked up by Jet¡¯s reaction, like an excited dog, and Jet found it very charming.


    ¡°Just wait until you meet your other roommate, Chris! He is the nicest guy around here! And he knows how to access the kitchen at night without getting caught¡­¡±


    Surprising even himself, Jet laughed. It was a small and soft laughter, a sound he had not heard coming from him for a long time now. Then, still smiling, he answered:


    ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to it... This year is going to be great, I¡¯m sure of it.¡±

 Regarding Claude: Leon side

    Leon had seen the new boy here and there: with looks like his, it was hard to simply walk past him without the image of him being burnt into your memory. Long, wavy and flaxen hair elegantly resting on his narrow shoulders as he walked, his steps graceful and full of self assured pride typical for people who were beautiful. His light blue eyes were always in a permanent narrow and they reminded Leon of a cat, especially when Claude¡¯s pupils narrowed visibly whenever walking in a bright light. Leon could also see his adolescence had already started from the way his featured lacked the childish roundness, but unlike with many other boys, his skin remained smooth and soft looking, like that of a girl¡¯s. His voice showed only the slightest hint of cracking, reminding Leon of just how terrible his own had been when it started, and feeling a strike of childish jealousy over such a slow and stable change he himself had not had the luxury of receiving.


    Claude was someone Leon would have wanted to like. An ambitious person just like he was, with a desire to lead people. He was self assured and determined, and had the kind of smarts Leon knew he himself lacked, whereas Claude lacked Leon¡¯s athletic and strong physique. They could have been pretty good friends despite their two years of difference in age, and in a way Leon felt like he would have wanted to push Claude to the right direction, like a mentor or brother of sort.


    Too bad Leon didn¡¯t like Claude much.


    It started out with small things. Leon had seen Claude the first time when he was taken to the third years¡¯ common room to entertain them. It was nothing unusual, just some childish bossing around seniors each year did to the new boys. Sometimes they also invited their favourites over to hang out with them, either as entertainers or servants of sort, or simply as friends.


    Claude had originally been invited there to be made fun of so that the older boys could establish their dominance. But instead he had outsmarted and humiliated a student who had jokingly suggested kissing, and as such earned the respect of almost everyone who was in the room - Leon included, back then. He had been amused by the first year¡¯s wits, but hadn¡¯t given more thought to Claude in particular - he was busy hanging around with Jet or doing something foolish and reckless to gain his own approval from others.


    From then on Claude became a regular in the third year¡¯s common room. There were other students too from years one and two though, so Leon had not given special attention to Claude, although he had noticed Claude seemed to be everyone¡¯s biggest favourite.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    As the time went by, however, Leon started to notice a change in Claude. Or rather, it was a change in the way people viewed him. Small streams had turned into a river: Claude had gained so much approval he was fast becoming the new idol of the school, rivaling even the boy called Julius whom Leon remembered from his time as a first year - but he had only heard of tales of what went down in the third year¡¯s common room with Julius.


    Before he noticed it, Claude was flirting with every boy of the school. It was subtle and tactful as not to alert the teachers, but every boy of the school knew what Claude was up to, and what he was capable of. At some point it was not an odd sight to see the first year in third years¡¯ areas, usually some guy lying on his lap while Claude pet his hair and talked sweet in a way that was polite, but romantic enough to get other adolescent guys all weak.


    And then he started to reveal his true nature. People who didn¡¯t like Claude usually ended up in trouble in a way or another, and soon it was clear to everyone Claude was behind it all. If you got on his bad side you¡¯d definitely feel it biting you back sooner or later, and in order to advance his own popularity and rank within the internal hierarchy he¡¯d double deal, lie and plan to get what he wanted. As another fairly popular student, Leon saw all this with his own eyes. He never interfered, but he felt uneasy about Claude and the things he could do.


    But what really made Leon hate Claude was the way he treated Chris. Leon couldn¡¯t see what the prefect saw in Claude, making him his roommate during the spring.


    Chris overlooked what Claude did, and Claude would constantly try to outsmart Chris. The two would often enter into debates. Usually Chris won simply because of his authority over Claude as a prefect, but it was clear Claude never felt like he truly lost to Chris.


    Leon didn¡¯t know how Chris felt about Claude as the two had not been too close after their first year in shared room, but he couldn¡¯t help but feel angry about how Claude was constantly trying to make fun of Chris. Sometimes he even succeeded, and Leon was certain Claude was using Chris just like he did with everyone else. That boy had no concept of mercy nor empathy; he did exactly as he wanted and what entertained him the most, and everyone else was on his leash.


    Leon didn¡¯t like that. He didn¡¯t like the way Claude looked down upon others, those cold cat eyes arrogantly glancing over even boys much older than him. Especially when it came to Chris and the way Claude treated him, Leon could hardly contain his anger: Chris was still a friend to him, and seeing a friend constantly being forced to deal with Claude¡¯s fickleness was infuriating.


    Claude was a devil, and Leon refused to accept him. He would never forgive him and he would never want to associate with someone who so coldly treated everyone around him like a disposable waste.


    And then, after Chris¡¯ disappearance, when Leon heard about Claude getting a new roommate, he knew what he was going to do.


    He was not going to let Claude terrorize yet another boy. Leon didn¡¯t even know who the newcomer would be, but he had already decided to warn him about his snake of a roommate.