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    1. Jun 8 yrs ago

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As most of those attending the assembly rose, so did Kei. An orderly procession, though, soon turned into a scurry as news of the fire spread among the crowd. Kei was surprised at how quickly the report moved. Would it be so quick for the community to learn that D-Day was a suspect? It might not take too long either once the fire investigators and detectives saw the camera footage, grainy and far away but fully showing the musician's shirt on camera, and as they discovered the bit of it that was snagged on a Turner property tree. D-Day would be the prime suspect of the arson, and perhaps, also, Lily's disappearance.

"Sorry!"

Kei was pulled out of his stupor by a man with a bad wig and...he soon realized, as the stranger passed between Elliot and Ellie, that it was the very one currently in his thoughts: D-Day. He was in a hurry, which bothered Kei...where was he headed? Kei quickly followed, so quickly that he stepped on a protrusion that almost made him trip. Looking down, Kei saw something so gaudy that he knew it could belong only to Damon—a gold-plated Walkman.

His mind raced—should he pick it up? The old Kei, meaning the one from mere hours ago, would have returned it to Damon, even though he despised the man. But this new creature, one seemingly forged in the flames of the Turner's burning home, could only think this: What a perfect opportunity to implicate this imbecile even further.

Kei looked up to see D-Day literally running out the door. Instinctively, he knew where the celebrity was headed. The presence of that shirt in Lily’s closet meant that Damon had some sort of special relationship with her, just as Kei did. And like Kei, he must have spent time in Lily's room. Blood rose to the high schooler's head as he imagined the worst, that he was not special, like Lily said, that he was one of a line of boys that shared Lily's bed.

Breathe, Kei told himself. You knew Lily...you KNOW Lily. She is the person you think she is.

Kei glanced at the Walkman at his foot—he knew it wasn't needed to implicate Damon further, but more than that, a rush of regret spilled over him. The guilt of what he'd done, what he was still doing, was overwhelming Kei. As much as he hated Damon, Kei realized that the tables had turned: Kei was the one doing wrong, the one who had perpetrated an evil. And as such, he wondered, Was Lily’s assessment of me wrong after all?

He would think about that later, about his complicated feelings and the things he'd done, but first, he had to do something else. Kei walked away from the Walkman, leaving it to be found by someone else, and walked in a direction opposite of the whole town, it seemed. While they walked toward the blaze he had set, Kei ran home.

~~~~~~


There were only two people that had ever known Kei for who he really was. The town saw him as some great hope, as one who was both an "intruder" but also a model of what a newcomer could be, someone popular, diligent, intelligent, who would eventually leave to an Ivy League institution, to which he would indeed be headed after graduation. But Lily knew him for who we really was, for all the complications and complexities within.

The other person who knew that Kei was far from perfect, though, was someone he met even before Lily—but only minutes before.

Up until his sophomore year in high school, Kei attended school, conducted his club activities, and went home, where he studied for hours and hours each night. He hated that life, for he hated his home—a suffocating mother and a raging father who took out all his frustration from work, all his frustrations in life, out physically on his mom, and verbally on him. So to stay away from home, Kei began to go to the ice cream parlor, to study there, but it was a distracting placed, sticky and filled with loud families. So one day—he remembered it well, an autumn day, October 30th, the day before Halloween—Kei grabbed his books and walked over to the Cosy Bear Cafe for the first time.

It was moderately busy that afternoon, but Kei found a small table to himself. He sat and worked through his studies as he drank down caramel frap after caramel frap. Even when studying, Kei always made sure to look the part of the conscientious young man, the type who carried groceries for old ladies while still being admired by guys and loved by girls. But that day, only for half a minute, he failed to keep up the phony face. Kei's mom and dad had a particularly vicious fight earlier—she yelled back at him that morning, which she never did, and never did again after how it turned out. He felt sorry for his mom, but only for a moment, because if truth be told, he hated her more than he did his dad.

And so a sorrowful expression washed over Kei's face for just a bit, not one of sadness for his mom, but for himself, which was when a beautiful young woman—still older than him, and apparently a waitress—sat in the empty chair next to his.

“You alright, sweetie?” Elizabeth gently smiled as she slid into the seat across from the dark-haired boy who had been brooding at table 9 for some time. “You haven’t ordered anything besides those coffee drinks… what can I get you to eat? On the house.” She winked at him playfully, her smile turning into a smirk.

Maybe Elizabeth was just analyzing things too closely, as she typically did, but she had a gut feeling that all was not right in this young man’s life. Although he kept himself busy, she felt that something was off; Lily would often call her an “empath” for picking up on various peoples’ “vibes” or energy this way. Or, perhaps it was just whatever homework he was currently keeping himself occupied with… Either way, it did no harm to the business to offer a free meal here and there. Hopefully she could help him in some way, even if she was reading too far into her own assumptions about a complete stranger.

Elizabeth was right of course—he was not alright. Kei, on the other hand, had no idea how to read the young lady. Truth be told, he was just taken aback at how well she seemed to read him. Maybe she had some special ability, or maybe this was just what it was to be mature?

“Uh, I uh, well…” he stammered.

No, he thought—she’s not typical. This woman is quite sharp. Of all the places to study, he picked an establishment with a waitress that was far smarter than he.

Kei laughed and cleared his throat. “Yes to the second question—your croissants have been calling me all afternoon. And no to the first. I...don’t usually share, and maybe this is more than you want to know, but home life has been hard. It’s really bad actually. I can’t wait to get away...and today, I feel like I would be willing to do so by any means.

But yeah, this is so strange of me to share so much! What I would normally say is, ‘I really like this cafe! And my name,’” he continued, holding out his hand, “‘Is Kei.’”

Elizabeth chuckled, “Don’t worry, you don’t have to pretend here. I don’t mind. It’s really nice to meet you, Kei.” She shook his hand, remaining unphased by how he had just opened up to her. Since she began working at the restaurant, Elizabeth had quickly learned that waitresses and bartenders typically became the public's part-time therapist (especially the bartenders). “You can call me Ellie.” She stood from her chair, deciding not to address the issue right then. “Croissant, coming right up. Sit tight!”

A few moments later she reappeared from the kitchen, a plate full of croissants in hand. “Here you go. It’s still not real food… buuuuut… I suppose it’ll do for now.” She set the plate down in front of him and took her seat back at the table. “I’m sorry about your home life…” She averted her gaze from his, looking at the papers he had been studying. “Mine hasn’t been the best either, so I get it… But hey, life goes on right? C’est la vie!” She met his gaze again, “You just have to try and stay positive… things will work out in the end. They always do.”

“You know…” She paused, considering what she was about to say. “We do have an opening here at the cafe… if you need any excuse to leave home, or have a distraction… I’d gladly hire you as one of our busboys, if you want.”

As Ellie spoke, Kei gently tore a piece from one of the croissants and considered her words. Things will work out in the end. But how could she know that? Rationally, Kei knew that couldn’t be true, not always. Wasn’t a phrase like that just empty semantics, a platitude that you say to someone when you just don’t know what else to say?

But looking at Elizabeth, Kei knew that she meant what she said, and more than that, her own experiences must have bore them out to be true. Logic out the window, Kei felt that a story was just beginning, some sort of journey, a way out of his broken household not built upon what his parents willed, but a new way that he could not yet see, on a path that was still overgrown and filled with people he was just now meeting, like Ellie, and others, perhaps, he didn’t yet know.

And so when the offer came from her lips, Kei paused only for a second, for he knew this was just right. He knew he could trust this woman, despite meeting her just five minutes prior, that this meeting was serendipitous, the beginning of something great as it started with something small—a basket of croissants and a job bussing tables.

“Ellie...thank you. I accept.”

"Yay! I'm so glad. Interviewing can be such a pain. I have a good feeling about you, Kei." She grinned, ignoring the nagging voice in her head telling her that she would have to explain the sudden hire to her father. He would understand… eventually.

"I know it might be strange to say, but… if the cafe isn't open for some reason and you need somewhere to go, I want you to know that my family's home is always open for you." This would be harder to explain to her father, if Kei ever utilized it, but Elizabeth couldn't stop herself. She had a soft spot for situations like this. When her mom had passed away she had felt so alone and lost. If she could help another person who was feeling the same way, it would mean the world to her.

"There is one person I have to get approval from before you start, though…" She giggled before swiveling in her seat to look across the room. "Lil!" An ebony haired woman looked up from the chocolate milkshake she had been stirring around, lighting up with a smile upon seeing Elizabeth. "C'mere! I've got someone for you to meet."

~~~~~~


Kei was drowning in tears as he reached his door—the memories of that day, of first meeting Ellie, who would become his confidante, and of Lily. Oh, Lily…

She wasn’t there, of course, but in a sense she was. Kei thought of Lily as always being with him, though they didn’t see each other daily, sometimes not even weekly. It even terrified him sometimes to know how much passion he felt toward Lily, the only person he loved—the only person, Kei occasionally thought, he had ever loved.

But that thought wasn’t accurate. Kei loved his parents deeply, once, when he was young. Even when they did wrong, Kei blamed himself, for after all, in a young man’s thinking, his parents couldn’t be wrong. But when he became an adolescent, Kei realized what his parents really were, and he lost his love for them, replacing it with rage and hate, feelings that could have overtaken him if not for Lily, if not for that someone he came to love fiercely.

What Kei didn’t realize was that in just mere days, the hole within him that a missing Lily left was being consumed again by bitterness. When you depend fully on someone else, if that person leaves, you’re left with what you had before—and what Kei had was emptiness and fire. It was no wonder that his body reacted as it did at the Turners’ residence, setting the house aflame. It was merely what was within his heart spilling over.

Kei wiped his face, violently pushing away sweat and tears, and entered the home. He witnessed the usual—his father at the table, on his day off, reading a newspaper, and his mother cooking.

"What you do here," Kei's mom asked. "No school?"

"Today's the assembly," Kei said, almost in a whisper, as he walked toward her in the kitchen, near the utensil drawers.

"Hmm," replied his father, all-knowing as usual.

"Ah, crazy day," his mother went on. "They's also fire today. Mayor house all burn down!"

"Yeah," Kei responded, building up his courage through the lump in his throat. He opened the drawer while looking at his parents, and felt around—forks, spoons, and knives.

"That's why I'm here."

Kei's parents both looked up.

He took another breath and looked to the sky, as if he could see someone there. In fact, he could. In the short time that Lily had been missing, Kei had been having visions of her. They were hard to explain: It wasn’t while he slept, and he knew they weren’t real. Kei felt that he was making them up somehow, these visions of Lily all in white. She would speak to him with different phrases and words, but mostly this one over and over: “You can do it, Kei. You are strong enough to do it.”
And so it was this time as well.

His hand caressed a knife, the one he’d always sharpened at his father’s command. He held it for a second as he looked his parents in the eyes.

He took one more deep breath—and then the decision was made.

~~~~~~


The walk was long and hot as Kei carried all that he now had left in the world—clothes and few other possessions in two Adidas bags. It was a suffocating walk as he dealt with his injuries. He vomited twice, but refused to stop walking because he was already late, having texted Ellie who told him where she was, and that he should come as well.

As he neared the destination, Kei touched a slightly swollen eye. His dad had rarely disciplined his son physically, and had never hit him in anger. But today was different, and Kei had been ready for it. He had been strong, as Lily told him to be. Strength, in that moment, meant to not give in to some temptation or ridiculous notion as he did earlier in the day. No, he would not do something from which there was no return.

Kei had let go of the knife and pulled his hand out of the kitchen drawer, and told his parents the truth: "This morning, I broke into Mayor Turner's house because I wanted to visit his daughter's room. She and I have been having an affair. And I was so upset… that I burned the mayor's house down."

There he waited for his father’s response. His admission to arson was the worst thing possible, not because of his son's damaged character, but because of the shame it would bring their family. Kei's father, a man with fists like steel, soon responded to the shocking admission: he hit his son over and over and over again—at first in the face, but then with the knowledge that Kei would be questioned about a bloody face, into his body. The pain was overwhelming, but it was the price Kei would willingly pay for what would come next. Kei would be strong because this assault was the cutting of the string that would set him free.

"You no longer my son! You leave this house! Never come back!"

The words of freedom had rung through the air—Kei's father was telling him to leave. He would not have to be part of this family any longer; he had been tossed out of it. And while Kei knew that his father would hide this moment and not tell anyone that he disowned his son, the ties had been effectively cut.

And now, he was free.

His face swollen and a bit blue, with a lip cut but no longer bleeding, Kei didn't look as bad as he felt. Most of the damage was underneath his shirt. Everything hurt—he could barely hold onto the bags slung over his shoulders, but it was fine because Kei had made it there, outside the pizzeria where Ellie said she was headed. It was fine because he remembered that conversation in October with Ellie, where she sweetly and genuinely told him she would take him in. A chapter that started that autumn day in the café was now almost complete.

Through beaten lips, Kei smiled, and for the second time today, wiped his tears and put his hand on a door.

“Son, can I speak with you a minute?”

Kei turned around and with a gulp of surprise, saw the one person he did not want to see.

Sheriff Spade continued, “There's been a fire." He looked behind and then back at Kei. "And I have a few questions I need to ask."



Interactions: @The Muse / @Allycat / @Aviaire / @BeastofDestiny

Kei tried blending into the increasingly growing crowds, consisting mostly of his fellow students walking toward the community center. They were all underclassmen without cars to drive to the event, and Kei was fine with that. After what he had just done, the last thing Kei needed was to try to hold conversation with his fellow seniors, with those that expected him to be on at every moment.

Still, rather than blending in, Kei was uncomfortable with the crowd—his heart was beating fiercely and his walk was shaky. He was out of breath, having alternately run from the scene of the crime and slowed to a fast gait when he saw others on the streets. But most of all, most of all, he smelled—it wasn't smoky, as Kei had left the mansion before the fire was roaring (and in fact, as he looked back occasionally, Kei couldn't tell if there was smoke or not—had the fire department responded that quickly?); the fragrance was of sweat and oil, a musty one that didn't fit with a beautiful and mild morning.

Taking a sharp left from the throng, he moved down one side street, and then took a right at another. Two blocks later, Kei arrived at his destination—the Cosy Bear Cafe. A sign hung out in front with just one simple word: "Closed." Kei wrangled out his keychain, hanging on a lanyard that simply read "D-Day" in black letters against a deep red (a "gift" given to all students at his school), and found the key to the restaurant. The Bakers had been so inviting to Kei, trusting him with a key in recent days when they'd given him the charge to close down, an unusual assignment for a bus boy, but perhaps less so considering the strain on the family for the past two weeks.

He moved quickly toward the break room and opened his locker, taking out the cafe uniform, deodorant, and other toiletries. He quickly cleaned over a bathroom sink and changed. Taking his dirty clothes, he found shearers in the kitchen and clipped them apart quickly in long strips, and fed them down a industrial-use garbage disposal, bit by bit. The sweatshirt went down fine; the jeans and gloves, he stuffed in an empty pick jar, which he closed with a lid that he punched two holes in. Kei dropped a match inside to let the items burns, and disposed of the jar in the dumpster behind the establishment.

Still shaking, and unable to comprehend what he's just done, what he was still doing, Kei locked the door behind him and breathed just a little. There are no security cameras here, he reminded himself. All the clothes are gone, and I'm safe.

The community center wasn't too far from there. Kei arrived to an already filling auditorium space. His friends waved over to him, but Kei was in no mood for small talk—it was all he could do to even breathe. Instead, he spotted a solemn group in the front row and walked over, even though he knew it was not exactly appropriate for him to sit there. Moving in front of the old man, he bowed to him (Kei had never him, though there were surprisingly quite a few folks in town he didn't know, having lived here for only a few short years) and nodded toward Liz's friend, Elliot, and the girl with whom he was conversing.

Then he placed his left hand on Elizabeth's shoulder, squeezing gently for a moment, and letting go before walking behind the group and sitting directly behind Ellie. Working for the Bakers, Kei saw the young woman almost daily, and found a measure of comfort in her; he was the center of attention at school, but at the cafe, he could be the one relying on others, and Ellie—Kei preferred that nickname to Liz—was so kind and responsibly and funny. And of course, even if by happenstance, it was through Ellie that Kei met Lily.

As he saw the sadness exuding from Ellie and the same from the older gentleman, as well as a nervousness, it seemed, from Elliot, Kei's thoughts about the morning flew away. Even his own anxiety did, that built from Lily's disappearance, from his longing for her safety, for her warmth, for her physical touch, and he tried to look for words that would help Ellie, knowing nothing he could say could possibly do that.

It was strange that in this moment, he could find a calmness, a centering. But Kei did, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. He stood Zen as the conference inched toward its start, but his trance ended abruptly. Kei's eyelids suddenly shot open, and like electricity shooting from one conductor to another, a single throught raced through his brain.

My bike. I left my bike two blocks from the mansion...I left it at the scene of the crime.



Principal Wilshire did not look himself. Not the most composed of men normally—rumor had it that the principal was one false note away from being fired, and even a loose connection between the school and Lily would certainly qualify as much—today he was especially distraught, disorderly, sweaty.

Kei approached him. "Mr. Wilshire, would you like me to begin the assembly?"

The principal looked at him with wide eyes, as if Kei has just said the craziest thing rather than just suggest he start the event like he usually did as student class president, with a few quick words of introduction and leading the pledge of allegiance.

"No, Kei. Please go sit in the rafters."

Kei paused for half-a-beat—he usually sat in seats behind the podium along with the other student council officers and few teachers, who were seated there now. But it was fine. He took the opportunity to scuttle away with so much on his mind, including what he planned to do following the ceremony. Walking across the floor and up the steps to the third row, he remained the center of attention as always, getting gawks from the "hillbillies" as he mentally called them, the old-timers, racists who didn't want anyone new in their cities, especially chinks like him; smiles from the "nothings," as he referred to the girls and boys who had a romantic interest in him, despite none of them really knowing what he was like, and whom he referred to as being as empty in their souls and they were in their heads; and fist bumps from those few that he knew as "friends," a term which Kei honestly didn't really understand at all.

As the assembly began, a pregnant girl and her friend loudly sat next to him. He knew the one girl's name—Genesis—for after all, they discussed her condition at various meetings. Some among administration and the student council were malicious and mean, and others spoke out of concern. Kei just thought it was no one's business.

He didn't recall ever speaking to Genesis before. She seemed shy—maybe he should say something now, or at least following the principal's remarks, but again he was caught off guard as the stilted speech ended quickly. Kei arose, first as he tended to do, and said "Goodbye" to Genesis in the brief moment he caught her eye, before walking off, first in a direction that seemed to be out the school and toward the bike racks to leave for the community center, but after securing his bike and going a little that way, he made a turn toward some residences, toward a small, gated section of town where many of the old elite, and a few of the newly rich, made their homes. In the center of the group of houses was a manor, one befitting "royalty" for the city. It was the home of the mayor and his family. It was the home of Kei's beloved, Lily Turner.

Leaving his bike a few houses down next to a fire hydrant, Kei walked the remaining steps to the estate. It felt like a ghost town—the streets were entirely clear. Of course they would be. This neighborhood was full of residents who long knew the Turners, who befriended them or otherwise tried to get into their good graces (and pocketbooks). They were all sure be at the community center, and likely early.

Kei slipped on a cap and gloves and walked to the Turner's front gate. Moving his head away from a camera on the roof ledge spotting him, he lifted up a panel on the brick facade near the gate and typed in a code: 5-3-8-9-0-7.

Entry accessed.

Kei moved quickly to the front door and entered the same combination, making his way into the house.

The entire time, he breathed quickly (when at all). His heart beat so heavily that it was all he could hear as he moved down the hallways of the impressive mansion. One could get lost here, certainly if you have never visited before. Parlor room, ball room, dining room, library—and that was only the first floor. But this was not Kei's first time here, nor his second or third. He did not know where all the stairs and doors led, but he knew his way to floor three, to the second room on the left past the palatial smoke room to the right. Not marked by anything special and only as elegant as every other door, a visitor wouldn't know that this room belonged to a missing woman, that it belonged to the lovely Lily Turner.

~~~

Kei did not know what he was looking for as he dug through Lily's belonging. He had not left anything with her, not ever. Kei was not the sentimental kind, not with possessions at least, and Lily had insisted they keep things "between them." So what trace would she have of him? Or what was is that Kei wanted of her?

It took but a minute for the normally-rational boy to remember why he was there. Slowly moving through the bedroom, crossed by tape and carefully developed out as a crime scene, he went straight to Lily's closet. Opening the door, he began to rummage through a surprisingly modest wardrobe—stylish, chic, expensive, but not large. And so he quickly found what he was looking for, a vanilla sweater, one he pictured in his mind when he dreamed of her, one he pictured when his mind, as of late, had been ravaged by nightmares.

He pulled it off the hanger, slightly crumbled it and held it to his face. It was soft, like her. And as her smell wafted into his nose, whether imagined or real, Kei grabbed for his chest. It was beating uncontrollably, and his breath was much the same. He felt faint, as if he would collapse on that floor, and started to keel over. As Kei reached out to stop his fall, he grabbed onto a sweatshirt, pulling it off the hanger and dragging it down with him.

As he sat on the floor, Kei calmed his breathing and brought himself back to a place of calmness (at least as calm as the boy could be after breaking into such a residence). He tied Lily's sweater around his waist, and was about to stand and leave when he looked at the sweatshirt he'd pulled down. In the dim light of the closet, he saw that it was black—a men's sweatshirt and marked with red letters that spelled ICON, a curious piece in Lily's collection. And recognizable, too...

Kei wondered, Where have I seen this before? Flashes came in and out of his mind. Literal flashes—like from a camera. At some event? The community center? Was it...the gala?

Running through his memories, Kei remembered the gala event he had attended, a token representation from the high school (an outsider and Asian to boot) among the rich and famous. There, he saw the sweatshirt being worn by the type of man he despised, someone with power and influence and celebrity. It belonged to Damon Day.

What it all meant, Kei dared not let enter into his mind and he took the sweater and ran out. He moved down the hallway stealthily and tried to conceal his thoughts. She saw it and wanted the same. She was at the gala, too, after all. He continued down the first stairway and then past the atrium. She had the money of course to buy one...but this isn't her. This isn't her at all... He moved toward the final set of stairs to enter the long walkway to the front door. No...the truth is...this means something I don't want to hear about...something I don't want to know...

As Kei walked past the double doors leading to the kitchen, he paused. Looking both ways, as if the room was full and people were watching, he entered in. Still wearing his gloves, Kei opened a pantry and took out a gallon of vegetable oil. He began pouring it on anything that looked wooden, on carpeting on the stairs, returning over and over to the kitchen for more, and when it ran out, he looked through the pantry and found something even better: two small containers of kerosene.

Laying them along a trail a oil, one toward one end of the house and the other on the second floor, he returned to the kitchen one more time. Ripping a piece of paper towel from a dispenser, he lit it on a stove he turned on (and left aflame), and then made the long walk to the front entrance, careful not to light anything aflame, breathing deeply and with fear at the thing he was about to do.

Opening the door, he stepped outside, and then tossed the lighted towel back into the house. He walked toward the gate, never turning back toward the cameras, except for half-a-second, and then only a twisting of his body as he intentionally snagged the sweatshirt he wore on a tree branch. It left behind a trace of a black sweatshirt, the front of which the cameras caught as well: "ICON."

And Kei hurriedly scampered away, knowing the fire department would arrive and soon stop the flames.


Kei.

KEI.

Lifting his head from the diz he was in, the boy returned to his meal. He stared down at the breakfast before him—miso soup, a touch cold. Steamed rice, no longer steaming. Fish becoming lukewarm. And pickled veggies, sweaty and condensating.

"Kei, eat. You be school early. Today very important."

His mom instructed him in a language he referred to as mother tongue, sometimes including bits and pieces of their language, but more often, and especially since they moved to Emerald City, entirely in English with a thick accent and broken grammar. And as usual, the instruction was that which he already knew. Kei's mother never had anything new to say: She was like a doll with a string, repeating the same phrases day in, day out, month after month and year after year. He wanted to tell her to stop it, to shut up even, that she knew nothing about what her son wanted, nor how important this day was to him personally, not just to this town.

He opened his mouth.

"Hai."

---

Mounting his bike, Kei cycled awkwardly toward the school. He didn't usually sleep much, waking early to see his father off at 5:00 in the morning, and then cycling the long way through the oldtown neighborhood into the new suburban one, as gravelly paths gave way to firm roads and then into the sights of the city, where he attended high school. Kei had long loved this morning journey. He felt invigorated, starting it before it seemed the world was awake (other than his family), and then bit by bit being joined by friends and neighbors scurrying to their own locales, until he made it school, where he would slip into the broadcasting room to prepare notes for the morning announcements he helped give as class president.

But the last week was different. He didn't speed to school—Kei buckled, hobbled, merely stumbling along as if injured. His normal five hours of sleep after class activities and work and study gave way to three or two, and last night, none at all.

Until now, he had avoided giving serious news to the students on the announcements—no matter how charismatic he was, no administration would let a boy deliver disturbing news to the student body—that would be for the adults to give. But today, he would speak a benign announcement, or so it would it seem as much. For who would think that a quick report on optional excused attendance for the town hall would be so personal to a boy four years younger than (and even further in terms of class from) the mayor's daughter. No one would think he had any private connection with her, nothing intimate, not for a minute.

Well, none would think that but perhaps one. One knew of the secret. And, Kei thought as he trudged along the dirt paths, possibly one more.

--

Kei sat in the front-most seat in Mr. Akers class. As the old man lectured, he looked briefly up at the lock on the wall. 10:21 a.m.

"Kei...did you know Lily Turner?"

His head shot around as if set on a spring. He opened his mouth to respond, unsure even of what he would say, but before he could, Bobbi continued.

"Did you know Lily Turner's body was found, all cut up...and in pieces?"

The girl said so with a grimace, one that seemed to convey, I'm disgusted at this turn of events but it's a little cool, don't you think?

"Bobbi," Kei responded in a whisper, knowing that Mr. Akers was all but deaf and wouldn't hear them whispering even in the front row, "I know this town loves scandal, but if it has to do with decapitation, cannibalism, or the occult, I probably wouldn't believe what I heard."

She glared back at the boy, feeling a slight rush of embarrassment. "My source is good."

You don't have sources. You're just a stumpy-nosed, friendless girl.

"I know they are. You're always in the know, but I don't think anyone really knows what's going on right now."

"They do, Kei. Why else would they make such a big deal out of this thing in a couple hours? They know something...and it's not good."

"I hope you're wrong," Kei responded, "Because she seems really nice."

He turned and faced the front of the classroom again, acting as if he was paying attention, but the monologue inside had started. In fact, it hadn't stopped since he gave the announcements earlier, but the voice inside was now screaming, SCREAMING. That stupid girl, he thought. She doesn't know anything but...I wonder if they do know something. I wonder if she's right, that the worse has happened...

But Kei stifled the emotion within him, the screaming that wanted to come out, the howling and crying and anger and confusion. He pushed it somewhere deep, in some pit he learned that he had, an Aiba family trait it must have been, where they could put all unhappiness in a hole in their bellies where it would be swallowed and held for all time. And this was no different, even if Lily had been kidnapped, even if she were dead. He would hold it in, for that's what being an Aiba meant: You put on a show for the sake of those who tell you that you must. And so he would.

But a whisper escaped, a response to Bobbi's initial question, the one she hadn't actually meant to ask. She wouldn't be able to hear the response, either, for Kei meant it really for only himself to hear.

He whispered gently, "Yes, I know Lily. I love her."
Hello, folks! My name is Charles (but feel free to call me Jun or Twwk). I followed the rabbit trail of wonderful RPers I once roleplayed with at ES over here...and so, now here I am!

I enjoy all sorts of roleplays, though I do shy away from some—I have no patience for overly complicated, novelesque roleplays, and I usually don't like fantasy setting ones either. High school life, in most settings and with a wide variety of storylines, are most preferred.

I'm excited to be here! Oh, and on the side, I do lots of things but perhaps most interesting is that I direct a couple small anime brands, including Anime Pop Heart.
Hello everyone! Looking forward to rping with y'all!
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