Oh, wretched mother of hell, Akira should have [i]known[/i] that something was missing. He had his earbuds, but not his trusty iPear media player. How could he listen to chill tunes without the tunes? Christ, he was a failure, straight to video, right there on the big screen. Literally the worst. He'd have to abort the current operation.

"I hope you've learned your lesson. Any lesson. I don't really care which. Have a mediocre day." A shame he couldn't stick around to see her reaction, but baffling people was almost as fun. The priceless moment of "what the actual fuck, Akira?" was what he lived for. Metaphorically speaking. He didn't actual live for it. What did he live for, again? Not dying. Yeah. That sounded good.

Back to the third floor he went. There'd been some weird rumors floating around about some weird building, but Akira could care less. He could, but he didn't. He cared enough to avoid caring. Investigating rumors was what main characters did. Akira walked back into the classroom he had recently vacated. There actually had been people inside, two dudes he knew. They were okay dudes, he guessed. Akira wasn't sure how he overlooked them, but it didn't really matter. What mattered? That was the question. A bad question. A question to avoid. Akira went to his desk.

Despair. Sorrow. Trauma. It wasn't there. Akira turned to face the others, face as grave as a military funeral. "The music. It died, today. Either of you seen it?"