ASSIGNMENT 1 - HATE IS TOO STRONG A HOMEWORK

JJ hasn’t slept. He went to bed, of course, after the scene in the hallway. Lay down on his bed and waited to wake up. For the crazy dream of blackmail and murder and talking robot cats to fade away. It hadn’t. And then the realisation had slowly sunk in, while JJ lay awake, paralysed by fear, imagining every horrible thing that might have been to come.

After that, it had been easier to crawl back out of his room to sweep the hallways aimlessly. At least the other students, silent and scared as they were, were company.

And now… this. Homework. Ha. JJ was never exactly one for doing his homework, even in regular school. This one raises more questions than 2^x+y =?

Could it really be possible that the school had each student’s most hated person in a cage in their room? How would they even know who it was? JJ isn’t sure who the person he hates most is, off the top of his head. It’s not exactly a topic most people consider often. Is it?

In this case… it could be answered easily. Just push open the door, see if there’s a person in a cage in there. It wouldn’t guarantee that it was the right person, or that JJ really would have to… hurt… them, just that it was possible. Simple proof of concept.

JJ raises his hand to push open the door. He’s not entirely surprised to see that it’s shaking.

He steels himself, steps in, closes the door, then turns, just to glance-

Oh. Of course.

The boy in the cage has delicate features and straight black hair, a heavy fringe just brushing his eyelashes. Sitting with his knees to his chest in the corner, he looks as if he’s been there for a thousand years and could sit patiently for another thousand. He barely looks up as JJ enters, pausing very deliberately before speaking.

"Jamie."

JJ feels a sick little shiver down his spine.

"Don’t call me that."

"What’s wrong? Everyone called you that, when we were little. You liked it."

"…I’m not in primary school any more."

"What a pity. You’re all grown up now, and you have to take responsibility for the things you do. That must be so hard for you."

His stomach churns. The room suddenly seems too small, too close - and only now he processes the weapons waiting on the shelves. Gleaming patiently.

He wants to be, more than he ever has in his life, somewhere else. Somewhere free of the crush of the walls and the stare of the camera and the boy’s calm grey-eyed gaze.

Just need to get this over with.

He reaches out to unlock the cage door, steps back on unsteady legs.

"Hit me."

The boy moves forward, steps through the bars. Stands watching him. "What was that?"

"Just… do something. Punch me. You knocked out one of my teeth once, remember?" JJ grins, showing the golden canine. It’s not a very convincing smile.

"Why? So you can feel better about whatever you’re about to do?" The boy smiles back, a small polite smile as sharp as a knife. "Funny how you’ve got these scruples all of a sudden. It’s not like you."

Despite himself, JJ can feel the hot anger rising. He presses his hands into fists and tries to keep his voice even. "Marcus, please-"

"Temper, temper, now, Jamie." Marcus takes another step forward, that unreadable smile widening. He’s enjoying this."Wouldn’t want to do something you’ll regret."

He doesn’t slow till he’s well out into the field, far away from any walls or cameras or anyone watching. He lies down - or perhaps collapses is a better term - and waits until his hands stop shaking.