CHAPTER 4
876 Words
Akira paused at the door, his hand on the handle. He didn't look back at Takumi. He didn't even look at Takiro. He looked at Miyu one last time. She was still sitting there, calm as ever, her eyes reflecting the morning sun.
"Mark whatever you want," Akira said. "I was never really here anyway."
He pulled the door open and stepped out into the hallway, his heavy boots thudding against the linoleum. Takiro didn't miss a beat. He shot a finger gun at the teacher, who was still standing by the chalkboard in a state of total shock, and then winked at Miyu.
"Catch you later, window girl. Keep an eye on the Rep, I think he’s starting to smell like burnt toast."
With that, Takiro vanished after Akira, his loud laughter echoing down the corridor and slowly fading away.
The classroom remained in a state of suspended animation for several seconds. The silence that rushed back in wasn't the same as before. The fear was gone, replaced by a strange, buzzing confusion. Takumi sank back into his chair, staring blankly at his seating chart. The teacher finally cleared his throat and tried to return to the lesson, but no one was listening.
Outside, the hallway felt different to Akira. The air was cooler, moving faster. He walked toward the stairwell, his hands back in his pockets, his shoulders still tense but no longer hunched. Takiro caught up to him, bumping his shoulder against Akira’s in a way that would have gotten anyone else a broken rib.
"So," Takiro said, skipping a step as they headed down the stairs. "Since we're officially outcasts for the day, want to tell me what’s actually eating you? Or are we going to pretend it's just the 'old man' again?"
Akira stayed silent for a long time, the only sound being the rhythm of their footsteps. They passed the lockers where the first years had cowered earlier. The hallway was empty now, the sounds of distant lectures muffled by the heavy doors.
"It's everything," Akira finally admitted, his voice barely a murmur. "The people, the rules, the way everyone looks at me like I'm a monster before I even open my mouth. It's exhausting, Takiro. I feel like I'm playing a part in a play I never signed up for."
Takiro slowed his pace, his usual grin faltering just for a second. He looked at Akira, seeing the genuine fatigue hidden behind the piercings and the messy hair.
"Yeah, well," Takiro said, regaining his smirk. "The trick to being a monster is making sure you're the one having the most fun. If you're going to let them be scared, at least give them a show worth watching."
He threw an arm around Akira's neck, dragging him toward the side exit of the building.
"Now come on. There’s a convenience store three blocks away that just started selling those spicy meat buns you like. If we hurry, we can get there before the middle schoolers swarm the place."
Akira looked at the door leading out to the real world. The sun was brighter out there, the trees swaying in a breeze that didn't care about Seiryo Academy’s schedule. He felt the weight in his chest lift, just a fraction of an inch. It wasn't much, but it was enough to breathe.
"Fine," Akira said, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "But you're paying."
"Hey! Why me?" Takiro complained, though he was already pushing the door open.
"Because you're the one who dragged me out," Akira replied, stepping out into the light.
The door swung shut behind them, leaving the quiet, suffocating halls of the academy behind. Inside the classroom, Miyu turned her gaze back to the courtyard. She watched the two figures disappear past the gate, one walking with a heavy, purposeful stride and the other dancing around him like a spark of fire.
She picked up her pen and began to write in the margin of her notebook.
The cage is open, she thought. I wonder if they'll ever come back.
Down the hall, the boy who had spilled his soda was finally finished cleaning the floor. He looked at the spot where Akira had stepped over the mess, and then he looked at the exit. For the first time in his life, he didn't feel like a victim. He felt like he had just witnessed someone breaking a law of physics. He stood up, tossed the paper towels in the bin, and for some reason, he started to whistle.
Back in the classroom, Takumi was still staring at the empty seat at the back. He looked at his pen, then at the door. He felt a strange, uncomfortable itch in the back of his mind. It was the feeling of a world that didn't fit into his charts anymore. He looked at the teacher, who was droning on about history, and for a split second, Takumi considered standing up and leaving too.
- Writer
