Opening his locker felt like it would be a mistake, but it was something that Jihoon couldn't avoid. To go to his next class, he had to have his calculus text book. But to get to said book, he had to open his locker, which was, unfortunately, one of the top shelf ones. 

With a heavy sigh, Jihoon pushed his load of books and notebooks from his earlier classes into one arm, then reached for the combination lock with a sense of dread. He just knew that something was going to...

The door popped open as soon as the combination was freed, and a veritable flood of rubber bouncy balls poured out. Most of them hit Jihoon on their way down, bouncing off of the short senior to head in every which direction, and then they were all over the floor, bouncing off to wreak havoc.

Jihoon dropped his head, honestly wanting to do nothing more than scream out his frustration right there, but the snickers he heard from several feet away were just enough of a reminder that his tormentors were watching. "Don't give them the satisfaction," he whispered to himself. His misery was what they wanted to see and he was not going to indulge them.

He set his pile of books on the floor before taking the few left in his locker and placing them on top of the stack. Then, standing on his tiptoes to reach the back of his locker, Jihoon used his free arm to sweep the rest of the stupid rubber balls out of his locker. They bounced around his feet, accompanied by the now open chuckling from the small group of watchers, while the rest of the students tried their best to avoid the chaotic things. Just one person not noticing, that's all it would take...

And just as that thought ran through Jihoon's mind, he heard a yelp followed by a thunk. His eyes squeezed shut as the students around him disappeared, all deciding they didn't want to be there just then, and then it came. "Lee Jihoon! To my office now. Mrs Choi, please get this cleaned up." 

Principal Kim's hands were balled at his sides, and as the short senior followed the older man to his office, he noticed the principal moving with a limp. No wonder he was so pissed off.

Jihoon took a seat in front of the man's messy desk, keeping his eyes on the metalic Newton's cradle where it clicked away the silence. Principal Kim took his own seat with a ginger wince, his elbows coming up to rest on his desk and his fingers pressing into his temples. "What the..." he began, cutting himself off into a more proper phrase. "Can you explain to me why you were throwing rubber balls onto the hallway floor, Jihoon?" he sighed instead.

"I..." Jihoon began, then stopped his explanation. What would it matter what he said? The principal had seen him sweep the remainder onto the floor, apparently. Explaining further would not likely do any good, not when the principal's own nephew was one if Jihoon's tormentors. And so instead of telling the older man what had truly happened, Jihoon heaved a sigh and sat back in his seat. 

"It's like that, is it?" Principal Kim said with a flat expression; when Jihoon didnt answer, he shook his head. "Fine. Detention for a week. You're lucky it isn't longer with such a dangerous stunt. Lucky it was only me who fell and not some kid whose parents are going to sue us."

Oh yes, because getting detention for something that was done to him was what Jihoon considered lucky. He didnt say that, though, instead listening to the rest of the older man's lecture with a blank expression on his face. It wasn't as if the lecture actually mattered, especially since Jihoon was a pretty upstanding student. Besides. It was senior year, finally, and when he graduated in the spring, he would leave this school and its petty students behind without a care. 

First he had to graduate. Principal Kim wound down in his lecture, and as soon as he finished, Jihoon stood to give him a low bow. "Yes sir," he agreed. "I will do my best." The Principal must have been satisfied with the answer, because though his face was pinched with irritation as if he wanted to say more, he did not. He wrote a note on one of the colored papers on his desk before tearing it out to hand it to Jihoon. 

"Your detention will be with Mrs. Kwon, after eighth period, room 210. She will know to expect you, Jihoon. Don't try to skip it."

As if he'd ever skipped a class in his life. Jihoon kept that remark back, too, merely accepting the paper and leaving the office with another bow. Once out in the hallway, though, he heaved a sigh. Nothing ever seemed to go right for him, no matter how hard he tried to follow the rules. It was as if life had painted a target on his back, directing every misfortune toward him.

His mother had left when he was young; he could hardly remember her. And his father preferred to drink the anger away, leaving Jihoon to either join him in the downward spiral, or work to be something more. He chose the latter, with the idea that when he turned eighteen, all would magically get better. It was a naive idea, he realized, because his eighteenth birthday had come and gone and yet he was still in high school. Admittedly, it had passed less than two weeks prior, and he did only have one semester after this one. And with Christmas break nearing, and himself being a legal adult, he planned to go somewhere during the holidays. Or maybe just a hotel. But either way, he didn't have to spend his holiday break with his father as the man downed can after can of beer.

His personal life aside, school . It didn't help that he was nearly a head shorter than every guy in the school, and most girls as well. His lack of height had always been something that people used to try and pick on him. And while he had to admit that their actions and words stung, sometimes more than others, he tried his best to just brush it off. Their words and actions could not matter if he did not let them. Or so he told himself.

On top of that, he did strive to get good grades. He wanted to be able to present his academic portfolio to colleges of his choice and have them want him. Hence, no skipping classes, even if it was a terrible one like detention, something he didn't even dese