❝Saaay, Kisa-chan. What got you in here in the first place, anyways? Not sure if I ever knew. Me? I was always doing bad stuff. Bipolar disorder's a hell of a thing—makes you do all kinds of reckless shit, you know?❞ He waves a hand in the air, speaking as if it were nothing—as if it wasn't the reason he was a ghost in the first place. ❝You, though. You look like a good girl, and I've got an awfully big weak spot for those.❞ He places a hand over his unbeating heart, a smile on his face.
Nova, having had his fill of his nervous episode after overhearing a conversation between two older students, stares down at his hands. Oh, God. What's he going to do for the next... how many years? Two? Three, if he gets held back? A different sense of panic rises within him now. He could be stuck here forever if he doesn't get it together. The rules to this place sound strict as hell, and he wasn't even listening to half of them. The borderline NEET hangs his head, sighing a long sigh. He really screwed himself over by ditching class all the time and mouthing off, huh? He doesn't even know where he finds the courage to do that to teachers, either. It must be his lack of people skills from not going out so much.
Maybe he could remedy that. Just maybe.
He looks over to the first person he can settle his eyes on, and it happens to be two people—one white-haired boy (oh God, is he a ghost? no, Nova, that's silly—ghosts don't come out during the day!) laying on the couch, being roused from an attempted nap by an eccentric-looking lavender-haired girl (oh, she has to be a ghost. wait, we've already been over this.). Well, the two of them seem busy, so he'll find someone else to attempt at socializing with. His tired gaze moves again, and this time, his eyes settle on an elegant looking boy in a corner. Kind of like one of those stereotypically rich boys you'd see in a manga. That thought intrigues him, and with it, Nova stands and straightens out his sweater. He rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck before he walks himself over to Michi—
...—and happens to fall face first in front of the boy's feet.
It appeared he had misjudged the height of a wrinkle in one of the floor rugs—such tacky rugs they are, at that!—and fell right on his face. Mortified, Nova decides to curl in on himself. He doesn't seem to care if this makes him look even stranger; he feels safer this way.
One would absolutely, positively not believe that such a horrendously pathetic boy belongs at this school.