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He walked around, the dimly lit room so dark he could barely see: the windows of the gym had been blocked with large, black curtains, and only the small holes time had bitten into them gave him light. 

And then he heard Ethan’s voice. 

“Here, Winter! Let’s go to the changing rooms, it’s better there.”

His voice was silent and raspy, and Winter felt something akin to anxiety rise from within him: just what was Ethan planning to do? Was he really going to talk more about this condition of what they both seemed to have? Or was he going to punch him and steal his money? Or assault him? Was that it? 

Winter hit his cheeks with both of his hands to cast off such thoughts, and Ethan heard the slapping sound. 

“Winter, what’s wrong?” he asked worriedly. 

“Nothing, nothing!” Winter replied and stopped hitting himself. 

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Ethan spoke as he stepped inside the back of the gym hall, into the small stairway leading into the changing rooms. “I’m not going to murder you or anything. This is just the best place to talk without anyone interfering. And if someone does come, we are sure to hear it well in advance.” 

“You’re absolutely right,” the other nodded. “I didn’t even consider that.”

They were now inside the changing room, and once Winter had closed the door behind him (making sure it was not locked, just in case), Ethan switched on the lights. 

“Alright, look,” he started, voice shaking a bit. “What I’m about to tell and show you is very, how do you say it… personal. So whatever you say or do, don’t make a ruckus, alright? I’m sure you understand.”

Nervous, but perfectly understanding the concern of Ethan, Winter nodded. However, as soon as the other boy started pulling his pants down, Winter yelped loudly. 

“H-hold on!” he cried. “W-w-what do you think you’re doing?!”

“I’m not going to take all my pants off!” Ethan replied, flustered as he opened his belt. When his pants fell down on the floor with the belt, Winter saw something so strange none of his earlier scenarios of what could happen couldn’t even compare to the sight.

*clack* *clack* *clack*
Jeremy stepped back from his 'opponent', gripping the wooden training sword firmly, raised and pointed at his teacher, his face lacking any expression except determination.
His teacher, Hayato, stood across the room from him, holding a bamboo training spear. He looked calm, almost amused, watching this foreigner. The foreigner knew how to fight somewhat, which was impressive. The two men slowly slid their feet on the floor, mirroring each other's moves, eyes locked, wary to not give any indication of their next move. Hayato pursed his lips, this foreigner was perhaps too good for a foreigner. He made the first move, lunging forward with the spear.
*clack* *clack*
Jeremy parried two jabs aimed at his midsection with the wooden sword before stepping back, moving to the defensive now. He had taken martial arts classes back home in England, however this was not England. He wasn't even sure if he was still in the 21st century anymore. For all he knew, he was stuck in the 17th century.
He kept his eyes locked on Hayato's. a fierce determination in his emerald green eyes. A lock of his golden blonde hair fell in front of his face from his ponytail as he shifted more to the left, knowing that was Hayato's supposedly weaker hand. He lifted the training sword suddenly and burst forward, aiming a downward sweep towards Hayato's shoulder.
*clack*
Hayato parried with the shaft of the spear, their weapons locked. Their eyes remained locked even now. Jeremy pushed forward, their faces mere inches from each other. Both men panted lightly from their efforts, staring into each other's eyes. Jeremy, for whatever reason, faltered slightly. Hayato took notice of this right away, swinging his training spear down to knock Jeremy's legs out from under him, sending the blonde toppling towards the floor.
Jeremy fell onto his back, the breath being knocked out from him. He grunts and lays limp on the floor when the bamboo presses against his throat. He peers up at Hayato, amused, "Alright, you win this time."
Hayato steps back, , moving to help Jeremy up, frowning, "I do not win anything, I know where I need to start for your training, however. You are more knowledgeable than you let on. You make this easier."

Gentle steps. He had to be gentle, patient with his ability. That was all it took. The light, hollow sound of porcelain feet tapping against the tile of his mentor's palace floors echoed through the lofty hall. Azuriel watched- deep, red eyes watching his student with an apathetic glare; silent judgement heavy in his expression. 

Seth was poised in combat. A man of grace- composed when most were not. Stone-cold in the eye of danger. Gripping the base of his sword with porcelain fingers, he quietly runs to his target, despite the persistent sound of porcelain heels clicking against the floor. He pushes himself gracefully into the air, and with no hesitation, slices the target in half. Hay flutters to the ground, and the cut through the hay dummy was neat and precise. Seth pants, clearly exhausted- the strain on his body was far too much for him to handle. He'd been training nonstop- each action of his meticulously judged by his mentor. It had to be perfect. That's what he was used to. Turning to his teacher, he sheathes his sword, curiosity in his eyes. Was it good enough for him? He sure hoped so.

The white-haired man takes a moment to pause, as if he was analyzing every motion Seth had taken. He strokes his chin, before nodding, "Perfect." He comes to a stand, brushing long, white hair off his shoulders. Seth's eyes visibly light up, "R-Really, sir?" "Absolutely. My teachings are finally sticking to you, I see." He smiles softly, stepping over to the hay dummy to give it better examination. Running gentle fingers along the slit in its chest, he nods in approval, "Well done. But this is not the hardest thing you'll come to do." He turns back around, and his fingers start to glow. In his hand forms a sleek, black-bladed katana. Seth's heart sinks, and he takes a step back. Azuriel laughs- a little mockingly, now, "What's the matter? Are you not prepared?" "Of.. course I am, sir, it's just.." He takes a deep breath, but he braces himself, pushing his heels against the tiled floor. "Come, now! Fight me with your magic." Azuriel grins, and Seth's heart only sinks lower.

It takes him a moment. He was exhausted from training alone, all day, but summoning his magic was something that took extraordinary ability. Kneeling down, he delicately presses his fingers to the ground. And with a strained yell, large, blue crystals shoot violently from the ground. It clearly surprises Azuriel, as all of the crystals come from the ground coming towards him. Swiftly, he jumps out of the way, right as a large one shoots up where he was standing. Fascination lights his red eyes, and he claps his hands together delightedly, "Wonderful! Seth, that was marvelous! Why don't you do that more-" He turns to his student, who looks sick, now, as he falls to the ground. Azuriel pauses, weaving his way around the crystals to sit by his student's side. Even in his resting face, Seth was fatigued- his skin pale, sweat on his forehead. Azuriel shakes his head, brushing some of the sweat from his forehead. "Disappointing, Seth." He scoops Seth into his arms, a look of distaste on his face, "But it'll be worked on. Come, we'll let you rest." He turns around, to the large, blue crystals that were slowly fading away, and leaves the room.

“I’m a surgeon,” she said, her smile long and thin on her face as she looked at you with a slight twinkle in her eyes. “I work in transplants.”

“Transplants? Like… when someone needs a new kidney, that sort of thing?”

She laughed, tilting her head back slightly. She had very, very nice teeth. “Yes, exactly. Kidneys, livers, lungs, hearts… even stomachs, though that’s really the nuclear option, isn’t it? I can’t think of many circumstances when a doctor would order someone’s stomach to be replaced.”

“I suppose. Though honestly, I wish it were. If I could just pay someone to cut it out and take all my problems away…” You smiled vaguely, indulging in the fantasy for a moment. “It’s controllable, sure. But you get tired of controllable. It gets so exhausting, having relapses, worrying about adjusting your medication, fretting over the things you need to avoid and controlling your diet… What I wouldn’t give to just make it all go away, y’know?”

“…Well, what wouldn’t you give?”

You looked at her in surprise, hands paused midway towards your ear. You’d meant to tuck your hair behind it, but your fingers froze in the chilly night air, and they slowly curled into your palm as you saw her expression. There was something in the depths of her hickory-smoke eyes, a sort of glinting interest that made your mouth go dry. You didn’t particularly know how to answer her.

“I – I dunno. Not that it matters, right? Like you said. It’s… not done.”

She just made a noise in her throat, and it really struck you how tall she was now, looming over you with her hands in her pockets and her slender forearms exposed to the air. Part of you wondered if she was cold. She wasn’t shivering, and the warmth of her jacket around your shoulders felt dizzying.

Leaning in, she contemplated your face, carefully examining you over her long nose. “Well, that’s not quite what I said, is it? I was only really talking about doctors. Once you take that out of the equation… so many more things become viable.”

“R-really,” you stuttered, chest constricting. You weren’t quite able to handle this conversation, not in your state, so it was with a breath of relief that you saw your shuttle pull up on the street beyond you, the bold, black letters of your hotel painted across the white paint of the van. You nodded to it, shrugging off the woman’s coat, and then held it out to her. 

She took it, gathering up the fabric in her long fingers, and then reached into the front pocket of her coat. “Here,” she murmured, tucking her business card into the front pocket of your jacket. All you could see now was her half-lidded gaze looking down at you. “In case you feel like making it all go away.”

          Spring of 1984 was approaching. The mood of residents in Severomorsk, the settlement that sprung from the main base of the USSR's Northern Fleet, were gradually becoming brighter as was the atmosphere as daylight hours lengthened in anticipating of summer. The main square of the town, adjoining the waterfront granting the town's access to the Kola Bay, bustled with hundred of families with kids coming out of their living quarters to relish the warmer evening of May. Less than ten days ago, it was Den' Pobedy or known as the Victory Day, the specific date marking the end of WWII for USSR. Of course there was a celebration, with the naval vessel androids being the center piece of the parade.

          Some children, under their mothers' watchful eyes, were climbing and clinging to an ornate metal fence which separated the paved square from the pebble beach facing a bay where androids gathered above the water surface. Undoubtedly, the main attraction which lured the majority of attention from those tiny, hyperactive humans was none other than the tall frame in cream-colored uniform and sleek gray cape. Although in his third year of serving in this strongest fleet, Kirov continuously inspired awe and admiration above all other androids.

          He was still equipping the armament which he was required to in order to participate in the Victory Day celebration. Just like the same way those little boys and girls gazed at him from the ground, he silently gazed back at them and analyzed what he saw. He knew they admired him. However, taking experience from a few times that he made a decision to get up close to them, their curiosity and admiration could rapidly shift to something else when they felt the emptiness of his cold stare. One time in particular, a boy accidentally backed into his legs, unaware that the first project 1144 android was standing behind him. Upon looking up to see who he walked into, the little boy got instantly frightened by just one look of  his face and burst into a tearful, shrieking cry. That single time was enough to keep Kirov to stay what he deemed as 'safe distance' from children. Nothing made him feel more terrible than to involuntarily strike fear to the helpless children he was supposed to fight to protect.

          Without providing any foretelling signal, that seemingly pleasant evening descended into a chaos faster than anyone could have predicted.

          On the horizon, among the small hills that situated on the outskirt of the town, a shock wave and a tremble of something powerful knocked down many children along with some of their guardians. Merriment morphed to a mystified state of mind, before finally settling to an expression of being terrified by the sight of massive cloud of an unusual orange colored smoke towering over the base. 

Haggis tilted his head. Uncertainly, he said: "I could take you down by the water, if you've got nothing else to do."

Roadie almost spit, but he managed to swallow his mouthful of coffee before bursting into a little laugh. "I don't run."

"I meant we'd walk, you asshole."

Roadie made a lazy, peevish sound.

Haggis suddenly snapped: "It's not far, Christ!" His back was angrily turned from Roadie during this outburst, or he would have seen the sly smile on the other man's face.

Roadie tried to suppress his smile. "OK, let's go."

It was a peaceful walk, filled mostly with amiable silence. Roadie could tell Haggis would rather be running, from the nervous excess energy the man fairly vibrated with, but he did slow himself down for Roadie. Haggis led them across another weatherbeaten soccer pitch until they met the canal. The mammoth derelict grain terminal rose out of the water like a great mottled black and tan beast. A neat row of shipping containers trailed before it, and a rotting shipwreck and a tethered old cargo ship lay behind. It was a sight, but Roadie could see why the other man liked it.

Haggis pointed at the cargo ship. "The Abu Loujaine. Used to be a ship, now she isn't. You know."

Roadie didn't know, and though he didn’t say anything, it must have shown on his face.

Haggis seemed frustrated at his unruly words. "They store concrete on her. She's been sitting there since the '80s." He turned to Roadie thoughtfully, then turned back to look over the dirty water. "You find out interesting things talking to the workers around here."

Roadie leaned over and kissed him. Surprised, Haggis pulled away, whirling around to see if anyone was nearby. They were alone, so he grabbed one of Roadie's hands and kissed him back. "This canal is real romantic scenery," he muttered into the other man's mouth.

"Shut up, dumbfuck," Roadie mumbled between kisses.

Haggis couldn't help himself. "A regular Venice in Brooklyn."

"Next time I'll take you to the other end so you can enjoy the fumes."

"Which fumes, the canal or your breath?"

Roadie pulled away to lean on the fence, smiling.

Haggis joined him, elbows on the fence next to him. "I look forward to it. Tomorrow?"

Viti paced around his room nervously, his cape flowing behind him as he marched back and forth. The old grandfather’s clock was ticking on the wall, and with each tick and tock Viti grew gradually more and more nervous. 

“Viti!” a tender knock from the door interrupted his dramatic flair and Claudia’s voice called out: “Your walking is making Mister Snipper nervous!” 

Mister Snipper was Claudia’s pet… something? Viti had only seen it once, and it was only for a brief moment when Mister Snipper had mistaken Viti for its food. As far as he knew, it was a snake - or maybe a dragon, but he didn’t have the guts to find out just yet; the animal cooperated only with Claudia anyway. 

The door’s handle moved and small Claudia peeked inside: “Viti, is everything alright?” 

“Yeah,” Viti replied, and Claudia stepped inside. She was wearing a white dress with a black cape attached to it, black shoes and her wavy hair was open, but part of it tied up with a red ribbon. Viti himself had matching clothes, with expensive-looking white and frilly clothes contrasted by a cape matching with Claudia’s. 

“I don’t think you’re alright,” the small girl argued. 

“I am,” Viti insisted, but knew he was lying. 

“No, you're not!”

“Yes I am!”

Claudia stomped the floor: “You’re absolutely, definitely not!”

“Alright, fine, I’m nervous!” Viti finally sighed in defeat and sat down on his bed. 

“About meeting my grandparents and relatives?” the young vampire asked, gracefully hopping down next to Viti. 

“Well, yeah,” he mumbled. “I haven’t really met many vampires yet and your family is, how should I say it… very important? Nothing like mine, so I don’t know how to act.”

Claudia smiled and tapped Viti’s legs with her small hands, probably trying to show her support through this gesture: “You’ll be fine!” But then she added, with more seriousness: “Just don’t try to show anyone how well you can slide down the staircase.”

“I wouldn’t even dream of doing that in front of quests,” Viti chuckled, but mentally had to cross “show sick sliding skills to relatives” out of his list of things to do. Great, now he was even more nervous.

“Ahhh where has all the time gone?!” Renne’s voice was full of energy as she was gently guided away from the winery into the streets of Xeldau by Riy. He found himself wearing a tiny grin as he watched her antics and kept an arm around her to keep the girl upright. “Kniiight why’re we leaving?” He chuckled at the girl’s drunken use of the nickname, and scanned the streets for a place to sit down as the princess draped herself over the youth, causing him to yelp when she almost fell over.

“W-well you were getting a little too rowdy inside-” Riy tried to explain it to her but the Wolflian girl suddenly stood upright and shook her head.

“No, I wasn’t.” Her voice was unusually normal given that she was slurring her words a moment before, but any sign of normalcy disappeared when she leaned her head on Riy’s shoulder. “It’s a party! It’s going to be high energy.” The young knight opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out and he settled for a soft laugh. Indeed, the party had been quite high energy. The young Fenrir noble however was being particularly clingy, and it had been drawing quite a crowd.

“Actually you kind of were. Just a tad.” Riy said with a small smirk as he guided her through the streets, passing a small group of birds who were waddling along the ground. They looked up at the pair of Wolflians, then all took off into the night sky one by one. 

“No. I was just mingling.” Renne shot back with semi slurred words, prompting her friend to groan as they stepped to the center of the upper district of the city, stopping just before the large four layer fountain.

“Princess-” Renne’s smile was dropped and she sharply poked the boy in the chest all of a sudden.

“Don’t call me that.” Her voice dropped a level as well, sounding hurt by his choice of words. It was clear she was bothered by it when she looked him in the eyes with her own, almost misty eyes. “I thought we were closer than that.” Feeling guilty, the Wolflian boy reached up and scratched his cheek with an apologetic expression.

“Sorry I just… sorry.” He said softly and got Renne to back up. She didn’t start crying, but instead tilted her head to the side as a smile found its way onto her face.

“As long as you get it.” She said in a small voice. The princess beamed and lurched towards him with her arms out. “Come here!” Riy ducked back rather comically and had to steady his princess so she didn’t fall over. He sighed in realization as Renne leaned her head back in his arms. She was drunk. 

“You, don’t handle alcohol very well do you Renne?” The Spiritist didn’t immediately respond, staring blankly up at the sky. She pulled her head up and forwards suddenly, with the words ‘do you?’ leaving her mouth before hitting her head against Riy’s and causing him to let go of her and stumble backwards a little. The female let out a cute yelp and covered her forehead as she dropped to her knees to keep from falling over, as did Riy. Then the two Wolflians both leaned forwards at the same time and their faces stopped mere inches from each other, and they froze.

“Eh?” They both let out at the same time. A small gust of wind rolled through the streets and petals flew past them into the air. 

Badump. Badump.

The two Wolflians got to their feet at the same time and stepped away from each other, giving each other their space. It didn't remain that way for long though, as Renne stepped towards Riy and took hold of his clothes, pulling towards the youth.

“Renne?” He said in a confused voice. The female Wolflian closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder in response.

“Do it again. Like before.” Her companion didn’t immediately understand, and she puffed her cheeks. “Hold me. Even if only for a little bit.” Riy widened his eyes in surprise.

“A-are you sure about that? I um…” Feeling caught off guard, he couldn’t get the words to come out and the princess frowned.

“You owe me.” Now he was really confused.

“I… owe you?” The noble nodded.

“For almost dying on me. Please… just for a little while?” Her voice was tiny, and it almost sounded like pleading. Ultimately caving to her cries, he wrapped an arm around her and exhaled softly while closing his eyes.

“Alright. For a little while.” The moon overhead cast a glistening light on the pair as they stood in front of the majestic crystal fountain, in an embrace. It was almost a romantic sight, and even as she started to doze off in her companion’s arms, Renne didn’t care if anyone saw them like this. In this moment, she just wanted to be held. Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, or it was really how she felt. All the girl knew was that she felt comfortable in Riy’s arms, and didn’t feel like moving anytime soon.

The radio static changed into a distorted voice, reporting the weather for the evening in the neighboring county. From the details of the report, the group of teens were just outside of Baltimore county - on the outskirts closest to the harbour. The report called for light rain/drizzles, and temperatures just above freezing. The night would only get worse - freezing rain and sleet was predicted until the morning. The time was 1834, and the sky was already getting dark. It was Autumn. The ambiance was already dreadful enough, but then, glowing red lights were seen in the distance. The teens were walking close to the border of trouble. Then, the night became fear itself. The radio rang out - “LOCALIZED ALERT :: HIGH-CLEARANCE AREA BREACHED_ ENFORCEMENT PROTOCOL ENGAGED_ ” The red lights peered unblinkingly at the group of four, but then their focus shifted…

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A blur of silver flashed before them, and the red eyes in the distance followed. The wind kicked up for a moment as the anomaly passed them. The night was alive with sound, as the sound of a feet and motion filled the air. It sounded like a pack of wolves on the hunt. The flash of silver then passed in front of them a second time - this time, stopping for a second before continuing to dash away into the night. The red lights in the distance then revealed themselves - mechanized monstrosities, wiry wolves with sharp fangs and serrated teeth. They were fearsome, and looked as if the breathed fire. They walked through the land, scanning for something. They initially appeared to be approaching the teens, but then ignored them as they proceeded to walk by. The group of teens was not their main focus. Suddenly, the silver flash of light appeared in the distance, bleeding - he was being attacked by the hunters in the night, but he continued to fight. He sent some of them flying as he hit them at high speed. But, he was starting to slow down, his breathing slowed. He then began his final approach, but tripped as he was attempting to escape - at Mach 20. He flopped dangerously, and came to a sudden stop as he connected with the side of a building. The structure collapsed behind him as he stood, bleeding and glowing in the night. The machines howled as they surrounded him. The boy was hunched over, and spat out some of his own blood. His hands began to glow...

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Then, <switching perspectives>, time appeared to stop. The silver boy rushed the wolf at Mach 30, and punched it into the next floor below. He intercepted a stray radio signal as he changed position, and accelerated his frame of reference to slow the signal progression. Bad news was on the air - 6 groups of 10 were on the way, acting as reinforcements. They were a mere 10 minutes out, and preparing to move out. Meanwhile, he inadvertently ran into another transmission - “Anyone here? My identifier is August Midnight. Please respond - I just picked up a distress signal from an augmented entity under attack. I repeat, is anyone there? If you are unable to send a signal response, please produce a visible effect to indicate current position.” The silver boy sighed as time was slowly creeping by - even the dust in the air was still. “This day is the strangest I’ve seen in years.”

He turned to see the shurikens, hanging motionlessly in mid-air, and the two teens preparing to end the assassin. He knew that more were on the way. He also knew  that were others fighting outside, and that the assailants would soon switch over to ranged weaponry. He had to do something, and he had to do it now. His energy reserves had just dropped below 7 percent as he tic-tacked up the wall beside the two to swat down the gliding blades coming their way. To him, however, they were sitting in mid-air - stopped. He then proceeded to run out of a nearby, boarded-up window and sped down the side of the building. He had to create a diversion, and knew he had limited time and resources. “There’s only one thing left to do”, he thought. He then began projecting his mind - only the teens could hear him. He replayed the transmissions to them, and then displayed a small, inset camera-feed in the upper left-hand corner of their fields of view. It showed him, picking up speed and racing around them at velocities they had never seen before. A glowing dust storm began to ensue as time returned to its normal pace, and the assassin <redacted> and <redacted> were fighting was strangely slammed into the ground floor. His impact crater was massive. The glowing dust storm now rang out with a shriek as silver shards of hot metal and rock flew through the air. The storm funnel was impenetrable, and the remaining combatants within the eye of the storm were all but shredded apart.

“How sad.” Emotionless eyes glower at Ayleth under furrowed brows. Ayleth lets out a soft gasp- the blade pierced his chest in a way he’d expected, a way that he’d let play in his head millions of times in the same day, yet the feeling wasn’t something he prepared himself for. He shakes, fingers tapping wildly on the tile of the palace floor. The rest of the castle seems devoid of sound, as if the only people alive were those two. Blood drips onto the palace floor in a monotonous rhythm, and Ayleth lets out a quiet, choked noise. Caesar pauses, taking a step closer, and a saccharine smile works its way onto his lips. Olive eyes shine in an almost sadistic way; a way that seemed uncharacteristic of him. “Really, it is.”

Fiddling with the shaft of the sword, he brushes his thumb against the blistering wound, “How’s that feel?” His voice is lilted with a hint of wonder, as if this was all just an experiment. Ayleth’s eyes are closed, and the rise and fall of his chest grows more and more subtle by the moment. Caesar grins, an inexplicable light in his eyes, “Excruciating, isn’t it?” The blade wasn’t nearly thick enough to kill him quickly, and it seemed intentionally pushed through his chest in a way that avoided his heart, or his lungs, but in the right enough place to cause immense pain.

Pulling a dagger from his side, Caesar walks behind Ayleth, gripping his long braid. “But I’m sure there’s more to it than that,” He pulls it upwards, taut, and Ayleth winces, “there must be. Aren’t you ashamed?” The dagger pushes roughly against his hair, and some of it cuts loose, falling awkwardly to the ground, “Being defeated by an outsider.. your most prestigious generals couldn’t stop me,” Rougher, he pulls at Ayleth’s hair, “and I get to spit upon your honor.” With some struggle, he cuts through the braid, and Ayleth gasps sharply as he feels the weight leave. Caesar laughs lowly, “There we are.” 

He takes a step back, gripping the braid, “So, tell me again,” He throws the braid to the ground, looking to Ayleth with a scornful expression, “Aren’t you absolutely humiliated?”

Chihaya headed in the other direction, now wishing she had a source of light. While it was light near the entrance, the sides of the building were very dark. The school was near the forest, and she wanted to avoid going too deep into the trees. 

“Hey, Raiki,” she called quietly. As she walked near the perimeter of the forest, Chihaya could hear sounds from the forest: animal calls, creaking leaves, possibly some snapping twigs here and there. Something rustled in the leaves above her head; Chihaya immediately froze and stared upward. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but even then she didn't see anything but leaves. She thought for a moment that all of the weirdness lately was making her hear things that weren't there. 

Chihaya continued on and decided to stop thinking for now.

She continued around the school, every once in a while calling Raiki's name. She reached the front of the school without finding anything. It looked like Kintarou had gotten inside, though, since she didn't see him anywhere. She glanced around quickly before walking inside the empty school.

Chihaya hadn't entered this building since she had finished with elementary school a couple years ago. She didn't really want to, either. Elementary school hadn't been very fun and she would rather forget about as quickly as possible. 

However, she did know where to look first. The building was pretty big since so many students went here. She headed towards the younger kid's classrooms. Looking around, she never noticed how eerie an empty building in the middle of the night could be. Thinking about it though, she never thought she would have to walk around in an empty building in the middle of the night looking for an eight year-old. She heard a creak behind her as she walked down the hallway which she pointedly ignored. 

“Raiki, where are you,” she called even quieter than when she was outside. It was like talking disrupted the darkness and would awaken it. She turned and peered into a darkened room. She didn't think there was anything in there. It was hard to tell since the darkness successfully shrouded anything that might be lurking around. Chihaya wondered how much a flashlight cost and if it would be worth investing in one, when a hand touched her shoulder. 

Chihaya whipped around, covering her mouth to stop a small scream, and looked right at Kintarou.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Don't-!” She stopped herself. It wasn't worth getting angry over. “Did you find anything?” she asked. 

"No," he answered. It was hard to see him in the dark. "But I really couldn't see much of anything."

"You checked that whole side of the building?"

"Yeah, nothing."

"I see." Chihaya started walking down the hallway. "There are more classrooms this way. Maybe he's down here."

The two walked through the darkened hallway. Chihaya felt along the wall, making a mental map of where she was. They continued on in silence like this for a while until they came to the end of the hallway.

"All right, we can start looking here and make our way back to the entrance." Kintarou agreed to this and they split up again to search the few classrooms. Searching in the dark seemed less scary when someone was nearby. This didn't help with results, though, and Chihaya couldn't find anything after searching through a couple of the rooms. Chihaya sighed heavily as she opened the door to another room. She was starting to lose hope; maybe everyone was acting crazy. This whole thing seemed really farfetched anyway. She walked over to the back of the room and opened the door to a storage closet. At her feet lay a small, sleeping child.