Twenty minutes until the start of afternoon classes, and it was apparently brag time. Neku sighed inwardly. Why did the students try so bad to show superiority, he couldn’t understand. But at least he was not a part of this. He secured his headphones on his ears and turned up the volume.
Maybe one or two minutes later, a photograph was shoved in his face. He blinked, leaned back a little so that he could actually *see* what someone was trying to show him, and frowned. The picture showed one of his classmates with a gun in hand and a cocky smile.
Neku looked up, pulled off his headphones and asked:
“I was in America with my dad! He let me handle a gun! Aren’t you impressed?”
“It would be much more impressive if it was a real gun,” Neku pointed.
There was silent at that, then another student snickered.
“How do you even know if it’s a real gun or not? I’m sure you never saw a real gun of your life!”
Neku tried to come up with an answer. He really tried. But two seconds later he was laughing hysterically at the irony of that statement. The other students looked at him as if he had lost it. Which was not such an absurd assumption to make.
“Sakuraba, you’re really scary now…”
They didn’t dare speak to him again this day.