Chapter Text
At Akademi, students were expected to wake up before sunrise. It was the norm for a prestigious school like this one. This school was full of rumors. Its reputation was like no other. It was the 8th week of school and disappearances have been happening lately. The police in the area hadn’t been helping out much either… anyway, it was still quite early but too late for Hazu. His alarm clock didn’t ring!
“Mm… what time is it…?”
He looked at his clock near his nightstand. It read 7:48am.
“Dammit! I’m gonna be late! I can’t risk that going on my record. I’m not gonna get a good job, I’m gonna be homeless, and I— I-“
“Meow.”
“Huh? Oh, Mr. Willywiggles!”
He scooped up his cat, holding him with one arm and booping his nose with his other finger. Hazu gets sidetracked, but scrambles to grab his clothes. He rushed to the bathroom and comes out with his hair unkept and clothes slightly wrinkled. At least he didn’t forget to cover his face with his hair— that’s one thing he HAS to make sure he does before leaving. There’s no room for such a messy student. He tossed his heavy bag over his shoulder, but missed by an inch. He slips back and knocks over the mannequin in the corner of his room which tumbles over the desk, and spills half of its belongings onto the floor. Everything crashes down like a line of dominoes. Thankfully, he didn’t get any glitter on himself. Unfortunately? He gets it all over the floor which forced Mr. Willywiggles to sprint under his bed.
7:53. He had to go. Not without knocking down a large roll of fabric on the way out, of course. He lived close to the school, but even running could make him late. There was no other option, so, he ended up running. 7:55. He was just 2 minutes away, he could surely make it! 7:57, he arrived at the school gate, panting. Just a step over, and—
“G-gah!”
“Oh my gosh, I-I’m so sorry!”
He fell face-flat. While getting up, he turned around. A rather familiar face… the guy must’ve rammed into him. The guy was, well… blushing in embarrassment. He kept apologizing profusely. That was new for Hazu. He didn’t know what to say, not that he would’ve said something anyway. He is a guy known for not being able to keep a conversation for 20— no, 15 seconds before it gets awkward. He glanced at the guy with a light expression (as if he could even see him), his pink hair showing with the tilt of the now risen sun in the sky. His body looked quite unhealthy, his ribs slightly noticeable beneath the uniform if you stared too long. His skin was pale, sickly pale. The boy noticed how Hazu was staying quiet, the awkwardness now evident. The pink haired boy glanced a moment longer than he needed to before a teacher interrupted the non-existent conversation. Ms. Kyoshi, the PE teacher who’s in charge of opening and closing the school’s gates. She cleared her throat.
“Gentlemen, the gate closes at 8. It’s 7:59. Much preferred of you’d be inside the school instead of loitering out here.”
Hazu didn’t even get his name. They both scrambled inside through the double doors, flustered. They didn’t attempt to engage in conversation any further. The pink haired guy walked up to his locker, trying his hardest to change into his indoor shoes as quickly as time could allow. He looks down, more specifically his left just a little. It’s something… well, unusual to say the least. Could it be some paint from the art club? No, that wouldn’t make any sense. That would mean somebody had red paint while entering school. But— that didn’t make any sense either! He looked up and peaked through the lockers, seeing Hazu wearing his indoor shoes. Hazu finally looked up and noticed the guy staring. It was weird to him, but… what could the poor thing do? He looked stunned. His words broken and thoughts all over the place.
“I— ah..!”
Silence. Not much came after that. Hazu stayed downstairs in class 1-2 which the pink haired boy went into his own respective classroom in class 1-1. Hazu stepped in, seeing basically all of the students on their phones, few talking, and the others waiting. He sat down and pulled out his own phone as well. Time passed, at least enough until the bell rings. The teacher, Ms. Mutsuko walked in.
“Settle down, class. I have an announcement to make.”
She waited until the room was silent. She took a deep breath, then finally spoke.
“You may have heard of a student who came in recently from suspension. Her name is Osoro Shidesu. She will be in class 2-2.”
A student raised her hand. She sat right in front of Hazu.
“But teacher! We’re in class 1-2. Why should it matter?”
“Patience is a virtue, Ms. Dafuni. I was getting to that.”
Dafuni sat still, not another word.
“I’m telling you about this because she could… well, act out of impulse. Don’t pick on her and treat her with respect and kindness. Understand?”
The whole class was still quite silent. Ms. Mutsuko repeated herself louder, stretching each syllable.
“I said, un-der-stand?”
“Yes ma’am.” The rest of the class retorted.
The rest of the class time they did independent work. She gave them a lecture yesterday, so it only makes sense.
The bell hit 1pm. Students packed up and walked out. It was lunchtime. Hazu got up and walked to the sewing room. He was beyond hungry— he was STARVING! Typically he’d be eating upstairs on the rooftop alone. This time? He forgot his lunch. Around 10 minutes of sewing, The pink haired boy from earlier walked by. He saw Hazu then took a few steps back, now at the entrance to the sewing room. Hazu didn’t notice the boy at all. The boy then walked closer, creeping up behind him. He lifted his hand, then lowered it on his shoulder. The slightest touch.
“A-AH! Sharp! Ow!”
He pricked himself with a needle for the millionth time.
“I-I’m sorry!! I’m such a screw up! I— I just wanted to…”
…His words has trailed off. He lets out a sigh.
“L-look, I just wanted to properly apologize for earlier… I— I have a bento… for you.”
“F-for me..?”
Hazu’s voice was so quiet and soft, the boy didn’t even notice his lips moving.
“For you. I made it in the home ec room! I— ah, I know it’s weird… I haven’t properly introduced myself, have I?”
“Not really…”
“Yeah, I supposed. Well, my name is Otohiko. Otohiko Meichi! What’s yours?”
He extended his arm out, his hand left in the air waiting for Hazu to shake.
“I’m n-not…”
Hazu stumbled over his words pretty badly, not used to such a social conversation. This was outside of his own norms that he built around himself and nearly suffocated in.
“Hazu, k-Kashibuchi.”
He struggled to even lift his arm, but he didn’t want to come off as rude. Even with the looks, it’s easy to tell he’s everything but that.
Otohiko then handed him the bento. Hazu wanted to refuse, but his body physically couldn’t. He hasn’t ate breakfast or lunch yet, it’s hard refrain from such a delicacy. He just politely nodded, a small blush forming on his cheeks. Barely noticeable. Otohiko totally noticed, but didn’t comment. Hazu took the bento gently, then unwrapped it on top of the desk. It was a 6 pieces of sushi, 3 in a row with 2 columns. It was neatly packed in with cucumbers and a small popcorn shrimp on the side. The fresh smell of tuna filled the room.
“Y-you made this?!”
“Hah, only from the best!”
“I-it looks so good… smells amazing too, I— I didn’t know you had a knack for making stuff like this!”
—and before you know it, Hazu was rambling again. Otohiko had never heard him talk like this before. It was intriguing, in a way. But still very cute. Or, so he thought. Otohiko looked at the way Hazu’s bangs moved as he talks animatedly. He really wanted to see his eyes, for some reason. Hazu caught him staring and immediately stopped praising the way Otohiko made his food, now looking embarrassed.
“O-oh! I’m sorry, did I… say something wrong? Aha, knowing me, I probably did. Sorry.”
“Huh? Why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything wrong!”
“H-huh?”
“Can I just…”
“Just what?”
A moment of silence.
“Y-your hair…”
“W-what?! I know it’s messy— I was in a rush this morning!”
“No, not that. It’s just… the way you cover your face with your bangs is kinda weird, y’know?”
“O-oh…”
“In a good way.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah…”
“Your hair is quite fluffy too…”
They both stare at each others hair. A minute of outside muffled conversation and the newly added clock on the wall ticking passes by.
“Hey, Hazu?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I… e-eh! Nothing…”
“Hey, I still wanna know…”
“I really like your hair… can I… uhm… touch it?”
“Otohiko, I… okay. J-just be gentle, okay?!”
Otohiko ruffled Hazu’s soft brown hair, gentle with care. He stopped for which felt like an eternity, although in reality it had only been 3 seconds. He then asks Hazu another question, more intimate.
“Can I see your eyes as well?”
First it was stunned silence, then stammering, then acceptance.
“Ah… I…”
Otohiko quickly tries to backtrack, but it’s too late. Hazu is already reaching toward his bangs.
He brushes his soft bangs to the side gently, revealing emerald green eyes paired with freckles and a really heavy blush all on the left. He’s never done this before. Hazu puts his hand down, the brown hair swooping over his face once more.
“Y-your eyes!”
“A-ah?! It’s ugly? I knew it!”
“Ugly?! I’ve never seen anything like them! It fits you so well, I— I don’t even know what to say!”
“Y-you like them..?”
“I—“
There’s laughter nearby. It’s obnoxious, but one of them has to investigate.
“Ah..? I should probably go check that out. I’m sorry Hazu, I’ll be right back.”
“Okay..?”
He walks into a nearby classroom, seeing Horuda at her desk alone. The bullies surround her, pointing, laughing, and clasping 2 dusty chalkboard erasers over her head. He’s stunned, but the bullies thankfully haven’t noticed him. He hesitated for a second, debating whether to intervene or not. He ended up making the decision of pulling out his phone. Swiping to the camera app, clicking the red button. He positioned it, perfectly hidden from a flawless angle. When finished, he rewatched the video for himself. He takes a deep breath— ready to post what he’d seen. He walks into the sewing room, trying to compose himself while taking in what he just saw. With the remaining time of lunch left, Hazu teaches Otohiko how to sew. Well… a little. The rest of the day passes by like a blur. After cleaning time, (where most students are free from duties) the post starts to gain some attraction. Hour by hour, it became the hot topic for the school. The students of Akademi are now gossiping about the bullies themselves. Hana meets the other bullies who are in the empty classroom, already huddled and talking. She strides in, slamming her hand on the table angrily, directly talking to the leader or the group.
“Musume! What do we do? Everyone is gonna be against us now, and I, like, can’t handle the hate!”
“Calm down, Hana. You don’t know what I’m capable of. Whoever recorded that video will go through hell, and I’ll make sure of it.”
“But… how will we figure that out?”
“Kokoro, are you forgetting who I am? I’ll just hire people who are experts in technology, or, whatever. They’ll track it down and we’ll totally know who it is. Something like that.”
Koshiko chimed in.
“Musume… I don’t know if that necessarily would wor—“
“And why not, huh?! My plan is full proof, and you won’t say otherwise. Hana, your job is to ask Horuda if she knows anything about this. After all, she’s the one we bullied. She could have someone else helping her.”
“What if she dosen’t know?”
“Then that wouldn’t make any sense. She’d obviously be lying. Do you guys remember that abandoned shed down on 3rd street?”
Most of them agree. Kokoro seems hesitant.
“Guys, I don’t know. That shed is really scary. What if there’s, like, ghosts?”
“Kokoro, you don’t believe in the supernatural, do you? You aren’t a freak like those in the occult club, so get a grip, babes.”
“Right, right. So… meet up when?”
“3:30pm Saturday.”
Tuesday rolls around and the rumors died down, but Musume’s anger surely hasn’t. Horuda on the other hand, looks completely unscathed. She still walks with her head low, but you could tell that justice did no wrong for once. Otohiko walks on eggshells around her, terrified if she actually found out that he was the one behind the whole thing. He just had to drag himself into this mess. He walks into the sewing room hoping to see Hazu, but he isn’t there. Before he turns around, he feels a tap on his shoulder.
“AH!”
“EH?!”
“Hazu! Jeez, you scared me.”
“Can’t say I didn’t feel the same.”
“Ah… anyways, I kind of want to tell you something.”
“Like what?”
“Uh… hypothetically speaking… if someone were to piss off a really powerful person, but like, anonymously… would that person technically be caught?”
“Otohiko, that’s… oddly specific. And that oddly matches the recent drama going on. Were you involved?” He asks, weary.
“H-how’d you know?!”
“Easy! Body language. Clearly you’re lying.”
“Well just a little!”
Hazu crosses his arms,
“A little?”
“Just a little.”
“You were the one who posted that vid—“
Otohiko practically leaps onto Hazu, his hand covering his mouth.
“Shh, shut up! What if somebody hears you, idiot?!”
Hazu says something, but it’s all muffled.
“Huh?”
Otohiko takes his hand off, still holding Hazu tightly by the waist.
“I think I heard something from outside. I don’t know, it was really faint.”
“That’s how you’re gonna try to get out of this situation?”
“Hey, I’m serious!
“At least check it out with me if you really don’t trust me that much.”
“Mm… fine. But only cause’ you’re my boo!”
...
“Don’t even think about saying that again.”
The two boys make it outside again, going near the incinerator but see nothing unusual. It’s doing its job, burning stuff. Hazu notices a dropped mask, but dosen’t really think much of it. Since class won’t start until a while later, they walk outside for a bit. 8am hits. They both enter the building from the front entrance once more. As they walk in, they smell a faint iron aroma. It’s easy to pass by, but Otohiko stops hazu. He slowly looks at the same spot with the red paint, and it’s now turned a dark brown color. Something was surely wrong.
“…Hazu?”
“Yeah?”
“You know, I… haven’t really seen Osoro at all today.”
“The troublemaker?”
“Yes, whatever you wanna call her.”
“Well, what about her?”
“I haven’t seen taro's sister either.”
“…where are you going with this? Plus, it’s not like I even like Hanako anyway.”
“That’s not the point! It’s been 8 weeks, Hazu. I think they’re dead.”
“Otohiko! Don’t joke like that, you know death is serious!”
“I’m not joking! Look!”
Otohiko points at the brown stain
“Yeah? It’s probably paint or something.”
“Red paint dosen’t turn brown in a day.”
“Are you saying it’s blood?”
“It’s the only option that makes sense.”
“..so, what are you gonna do?”
“Investigate!”
“W-what?!”
“And you’re gonna help me with it!”
“Hell no! I’m not getting involved in anything crime-related! Call the cops or something.”
“But where’s the fun in that? Plus, they don’t even do anything! 8 people missing is not normal. The murderer could be in this very school!”
“Otohiko, be logical! Why are you so invested in this crime stuff anyway?”
“Well I have to be useful somehow!”
“Useful? Is there something you aren’t telling me?”
“No!”
“Tch, a terrible liar at best. Well, I'm still not letting you do this, no matter what the reason could be.”
“You can't! You aren't the boss of me.”
“Otohiko, you— you can’t be serious, right? I’m only making sure you’re safe! I can’t have you interfering with things the police could be doing.”
“Let go of my hand!”
“Absolutely not! I’m dragging you to your class.”
“Fine, but I’ll deal with it later! And you won’t stop me!”
“Fine then!”
“Fine!”
The day drags on, none of them talking to each other after the argument. Hazu eats and sews alone, Otohiko spends most of his time in the nurses office, alone. Muja, the student nurse, is treating Otohiko. She puts her hand on his forehead.
“My, my! You’re really hot. I should check your temperature…”
She grabs her thermometer and puts it below his tongue. She takes it out, reading it out loud.
“100.2. A low grade fever, but still risky. Try to refrain from drinking anything cold, okay?”
…
“Otohiko?
Earth to otohiko?”
“H-huh? Oh, yeah..?”
“Is everything alright?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t lie to me. I can see it on your face!”
“Fine. Maybe something is a little wrong…”
“Talk to me about it. That could be harming your mental health, and I’m here to help you with every type of health. It’s my job, Okay?”
“Thank you, Ms. Muja. You’re too kind.”
“Well, whatever it is, it’ll be alright. Here, I contacted your local pharmacy. Pick up your pills from there, and don’t forget to take one morning and night. Antibiotics are important too! You know—“
Her voice muffles on, going into Otohiko’s ear and straight out the other. The school day ends, kids walking home, some by bike, some by cars. Hazu one of the unfortunate souls who had to walk. Even if it was short— everyone was still tired. Otohiko arrived home, same time as always. His father yells at him, per usual. He opens his room door and flops onto the bed, weak and drained. He’ll pickup the medicine tomorrow, eventually. To his side is a nightstand full of empty orange pill bottles. Beneath that on the floor are water bottles. Some full, some half, some empty. His room is a mess. Too tired to get up and put clothes away, too sick to sleep peacefully. Downstairs is loud obnoxious noise of his brothers and father yelling at the TV. Football, or something. Maybe tomorrow will be better for him— for everyone.