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Highschool is Shit

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Kwon Ji-yong was worried. He was incredibly late for his history class, after being held up in the toilet from eating a little too much for his liking. Everything had gone wrong for him this particular day.

Ji-Yong was your average K-Pooper. He was the type of person that prefered binge watching Ryan Higa videos at home over interacting with other human beings (not that he would ever admit to being an introvert anyway).

His little explosion had occurred in a stall with no tissue paper, so he was forced to become a temporary ninja to climb over to the adjacent stall to secure his target. Unfortunately, there was no tissue paper in the stall next to him, so he was forced to suck it in and walk out of the restroom with his smelly butt.

He clutched his stomach, desperately attempting to subdue the ongoing war in his stomach. Groaning, he tried (just a little bit too hard) to reach his history class before it ended- he didn’t want to break his perfect attendance, after all!

“It’s just a corner away,” he muttered to himself, gasping for air due to his inability to run for extended periods of time. Unbeknown to him, someone else was running in the opposite direction. Ji-yong only saw a flash of white before he banged head first into someth- someone?

The impact of his collision caused him to fall backwards- knocking his head on the floor and losing the last remaining ounces of ego he had left. He groaned and rolled over. The only thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a hand extended towards him.

“Sorry, I should have been more careful,” a seductive voice called out. The mysterious figure winked, then bent down to help Ji-Yong, who was sprawled on the floor in pain.

Ji-yong shook his head, trying to clear the flash of white out of his vision. When he opened his eyes, he was astounded to see an unfamiliar face holding his gaze.

“Are you ok..? You seemed to have scraped your knee a lil’... You want me to bring you to the nurse or do you..?” the well-built student replied, as though he was genuinely concerned for Ji-Yong.

Ji-Yong’s heart started racing. He started to feel dizzy.

Immediately, he sprung up and followed his gut instinct. Run. He slapped the person’s hand away, slowly backed away, then sprinted to a nearby toilet, slamming the cubicle door shut behind him.

“This man… He’s… different,” he thought to himself, trying to comprehend the sudden chain of events that had just unfolded. He paused for a moment to slow down his breath, then sat down heavily on the toilet bowl.

Squeech. He looked down, finally realising that the war had ceased to end: his once snow white pants were now stained a dirty shade of brown, and he was on the verge of having a panic attack.

Just outside the toilet, a blushing man leaned against the corridor wall. The man stared at the bathroom door, deep in thought as though he was a middle schooler staring at their math homework which they had no idea how to do. He sighed, thinking that it the situation was hopeless and walked away with a tinge of bitterness in his mouth.