-しち
ContinuumThey all stared at the photograph for several minutes before anything else was said. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing. The boy in front of them was physically everything Japanese. (And they would know. Nearly every day during their school years they were drilled on the physical differences between Chinese, Japanese, Korean, and Taiwanese people. The people in charge of schooling weren’t just racist, they were freaking countrist.)
Eventually, someone spoke up. “His hair is short,” Hoseok muttered. Seokjin had to agree, the boy’s hair was strange. It was the shortest hair they had ever seen on a man - they only saw women with hair that short.
“I wonder why,” Namjoon murmured back, unconsciously tugging on his waist-length platinum-dyed hair. Seokjin did the same, running his hands through the pink hair that fell far past his shoulders.
The action reminded him of the flower petals from the park earlier that day. He shook his head to rid it of those thoughts. He needed to focus.
Seokjin put his hands back on the keyboard to type another message, but then the computer buzzed with another picture being delivered. There was a small hum from all of the boys in interest, which turned into a yell of surprise when they saw the photo that suddenly appeared. The yell of surprise was definitely deserved, though, as even when they looked closer, they couldn’t deny something absolutely terrifying -
The people staring back at them from the picture were them.
A minute passed in silence.
“We
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