Thankyou to Conraz for the brilliant suggestion to start my first chapter!

Reviews would be completely appreciated, thank-you for reading~

"Get out of my country, NOW."

"You say it like you bloody represent America."

"Shut up, chink."

Alfred swung for Yao, his fist clumsily knocking into the teen's stomach. He doubled over, his back sliding across the toilet walls in defeat. Tears rolled down his cheeks when the boy left, and Yao proceeded to lock himself into the cubicle, sobbing softly. Today was a normal day.
I can't believe this. I'm seventeen, for god's sake.
Not a day passed by without Alfred preying on Yao and his cousin Kiku; for nothing other than their ethnicities. They'd been in Clayton College for 5 days now, and before even completing the week they'd fallen prey to racist bullies – who just so happened to be the most popular students in school.

Yao didn't want to move. The feeling of dreading to leave his comfort zone was all too familiar, and he assured himself that he'd much rather prefer to sit in the faded blue cubicle for an hour or two than have to face Alfred again – but he had two more lessons to go, with two teachers that he hadn't met yet.
Sighing, he reluctantly stood to his feet and stepped out of the toilets, wiping his cheeks with the corner of his sleeve.

"Crying?" spoke a voice.
Yao froze. He didn't recognise the voice and there was something…odd about the tone. He warily turned around, but he couldn't see anybody. Shrugging it off as his imagination, he splashed some cold water on his face to freshen up, feeling a little more aware now.
"Hello?" called the voice.
Yao scowled. "Who is it?" he yelped, obviously irritated.

The adjacent cubicle door opened and out stood a man who looked a little too old to be there in the first place. He wore a white sweater and black pants paired with a stylish beige blazer and scarf on top. He had cadaverous skin and ivory hair which fluttered about his shoulders. His eyes were violet and glittered with interest. "Ivan." The man replied in a heavily Russian accent. "And you're Yao." He grinned.

Yao felt completely taken aback and a little underdressed in comparison. "R-right. Have we met before, or something?"
"Nyet."
"So how do you know my name?"
The man paused. "You're going to be late for class…" he commented, pulling a pocket watch from his blazer. "10 minutes late." He tutted.
Yao felt completely bewildered and didn't even bother to ask questions. This student was weird.

The next lesson was English. Yao hoped that Mr. Kirkland would be the kind and understanding type, and perhaps could be fed a lie or two about his lateness. When he entered the room, he was coldly greeted to a rather small man with blonde hair and thick eyebrows, sipping a cup of tea with a scowl on his face. "He was always late on principle, his principle being that punctuality is the thief of time." He quoted, not raising his head from the newspaper that he was reading. "Yao Wang, before you sit down, may you tell me who spoke these infamous words?"

Oh no.
"Uh, W-William Shakespeare, sir? Aru." He stuttered, blushing at his nervous habit.
The man laughed darkly and the students quickly took the opportunity to copy.
"No, 'aru'." he gestured towards the class. "Anyone?"
Alfred's hand shot up. "Oscar Wilde, dad?"
"Well done! Yao, sit next to Alfred. Perhaps you can learn a thing or two from him."
Great. Just my luck. Alfred is Arthur's kid.

Anxiously he pulled a chair beside the boy, feeling his cheeks quickly grow hot and red.
He vowed to dread Fridays.

The lesson passed painfully slowly, with Arthur occasionally snapping questions upon him, those of which he knew the boy could never answer. The class took great pleasure in seeing the new student squirm in his seat and fluster in embarrassment, being sure to make hurtful comments every now and again. Mr. Kirkland made no attempt to stop these, of course.
He seemed just as much of a bully as they did.

Yao scuttled from the classroom as fast as he could when the bell rang. It took all of his strength not to cry this time. He shakily stared down at his class timetable through blurry, tear filled eyes.
His last lesson was Astronomy. He smiled slightly to himself with the knowledge that this was his one chosen subject. He was told by Kiku (who had taken the class earlier in the week) that it was brilliant, and the classes tended to be small. Perfect.

He opened the door, greeted to a darkened room. It was midnight blue, and the ceiling was decorated with glow in the dark constellation patterns, and a few lamps in the corner. There was only one person there.
Yao smiled nervously at him. "Waiting for the teacher, I-van?"
There was a pause and Russian simply smiled. "I'm the teacher!"