Jackson tipped his head back and closed his eyes. In that moment, a flood of bright, white light infiltrated the darkness. He knew what was coming. It was the same image that had plagued his mind since yesterday afternoon.

Shadows, urged by their insatiable hunger to consume that which threatens to conceal their existence, launched themselves out over the white space until the light from before was swallowed whole. Than, as sudden as the shadows had come, an electric blue door materialized from within the darkness. And with it, Yezi.

Exuding a vibrancy that neither shadow nor light could come close to enveloping, she trodded towards the door. Jackson's muscles tensed. A growing, pulsing trickle of pain inched its way out along his mind until he could feel it knocking against the side of his skull. But before much else from his vision could be revisited, the school bell rung and the image dissolved.

Jackson's eyes shot open in time to see a group of girls dash around the bend up ahead. He took a moment at the foot of the stairs to berate himself for having been so reckless. He could have caused an accident.

Coughing to release the ball of air that gripped his throat, Jackson started on his way up the last set of stairs. On his way up, his thoughts returned to the image of Yezi disappearing into that stranger's house. The action had brought about a multitude of questions, the least of which had prevented him from falling asleep. Not even Chaerin's bottle of lavender perfume had soothed his frazzled mind.

In the end, he had decided to do something productive with his temporary insomnia. He had turned to the Internet. From searches like "signs u like guys" and "how to know if you're gay" to eventually winding up on sites where the images of thousands of hairless young boys could be perused through, Jackson had come to one singular, startling conclusion.

Nothing.

He felt absolutely zero attraction towards someone of the same . Not a single fiber in his body flared at the sight of another male. His heartbeat didn't accelerate, his hands didn't turn clammy and he would bet that not even his pupils had dilated—a surefire way of knowing that whoever is right before you is the person your body registers attraction towards.

Needless to say, Jackson was left feeling stupefied. How could only one man in particular evoke some uncontrollable sense of attachment in him? And if it was true that he was attracted to the opposite than how had he not noticed until now?

The God of Washing knew just how often Jackson would use the saunas after fencing lessons. Jackson had seen his best friend, who just so happened to be a guy, strip in front of him an immeasurable number of times. He reasoned that if he was gay, he would have come to realize it by now; if not through Jianyu than at least through one of the other hundreds of boys who also frequented the saunas and washing rooms after practice.

Jackson was known for being fickle. He couldn't wear socks that weren't 100% cotton and he wouldn't drink certain beverages like those that contained banana fruit preservatives. That much was true. But to think that his selectivity had even extended as far out to the choice in men his body favored was an exaggeration even Jackson didn't want to believe. What did the purple-haired man have that no other male did? There had to be something more to this attraction.

The more Jackson thought about it, the more he wanted to forget that he had a fully functioning brain. Whatever was happening to him was never going to be explainable!

He forced his thoughts to the kinds of plates Mrs. Lim would prepare for dinner later tonight. If he wanted to do what he felt he had to do afterschool than he needed his mind cleared of all other serious topics. He needed to keep reserved what little energy he had gained during the hour-long nap he managed to fit in before his alarm rung at 6 AM.

In his daze, Jackson failed to notice his legs had stopped moving. Looking up, it took him only one tick of the clock to know he was not standing before classroom 707. His classroom. He searched the room for any familiar faces. His eyes locked onto Yezi's gaze head-on. She raised her hand to wave just as he lowered his eyes to the ground.

Before he could tempt himself to look back up, he sped down the hallway towards his own homeroom and like the guilt-stricken thief he had promised himself he would not act like, ducked into his classroom.

At his desk, he leaned back in his chair. He had done the first thing he had been adamant about not doing. He had ignored her.

There was no way she would want to talk to him again after having ignored like so. He sighed as he picked up the pencil nestled in between his college-ruled notebook. He swept his eyes around the classroom once before looking up at the blackboard.

The sound of a book's pages being turned shattered the room's silence. Jackson realized why the topic of today's discussion looked foreign to him. He directed his attention to his copy of The Guide to Literature During 21st-Century Beginnings. For the first time in forever, Jackson had not done the readings for today's class. He had not done his homework. He had not done what was expected of him.

# 

Jackson did not move from his seat when the lunch bell rang. He turned his attention to the front of the classroom until he was certain Yezi would not appear in the doorway. Seconds ticked by and a crick was beginning to form in his neck before he thought it safe enough to re-direct his attention towards the window. He started to turn his head when a group of giggling students clambered out of their seats, one chasing after the other. As soon as they parted ways from the door's threshold, a lone figure came into view. Yezi stood on her toes, the fingers on her left hand wrapped tight around the metal handle of her personalized lunchbox as she scoured the tops of students heads for someone in particular.