Instinctively upon having his name called he pulled the hoodie to himself. Did he suspect something? That wasn't good. They always asked questions he couldn't convincingly lie away. Yet they never pushed him for some reason. He blinked as the door seemingly closed and locked on its own. He didn't get too close as he stopped and looked at the teacher. "I don't want to talk..." He said nervously. He didn't want to speak about the hoodie. He didn't want to talk about the marks on his neck or the hand prints on his arms. The minor burn from the grits across his cheek under his eye. In fact he didn't want to talk about what went on at all. He was always afraid of people asking him questions because sometimes he couldn't provide an accpetable excuse. Still he stopped to see what the teacher needed.<br/><br/>He just looked at him. "Hisoku...." he said in a breathless voice as he said that. It hadn't taken but a moment to sink in. He frowned at the next part. "I don't know you." He said. Listening as he continued. Hisoku had a couple best friends. This man was not one of the ones he remembered. His kitty ears twitching beneath the hoodie's hood. He looked at him softly. This guy wasn't making any sense. Take care of what was left? Understand properly...understand what? This man wasn't making much sense.  He took the paper skeptically. Only twenty-one? Why was he teaching here then instead of in callege. He eyed him warily. What if he was a pervert?<br/><br/>He wasn't too sure about going there. He then left Hisoku's "friend" and the teacher Hiya. He walked to the park and sat down on a bench. His head sinking into his hands. He shook and whimpered a bit. "Hisoku....why did you never come back? Life is deadly and awful without you..." He said softly. His hand reached into the hoodie and pulled out the scissor half. He pulled up the sleeve and cut across his arm away from the artery. The pain from his body and the pain from his heart too much. He needed to make sense of it. It was already darkening and would be dark by the time he maybe went to Hiya's apartment. The blood trickled down his fingertips and onto the ground. This place was well shaded and hard to see him. He didn't even watch it. Just stared at the cut. That was a pain that made sense. The rest of it, his physical and emotional, it made none. After about ten minutes the wound started to heal and he wrapped it in guaze.<br/><br/>It was still bleeding some and the scissor half was back in his hoodie pocked. He fell asleep for two hours. Waking with a slight dizziness from blood loss. He washed his hand in the fountain. This cutting...he could no longer help it. He had no control over anything. It was the only control he had in his life. He slowly walked and ended up at the address the man had given him. He stopped and just looked at the door. Pulling his hands into the sleeve. Knocking on the door hesitantly. Maybe he should just turn around and leave. He hadn't meant to end up here but here he was.