The Crack Before the Collapse

In all my years of being in this godforsaken school, I’d developed a sixth sense.

Not for danger in general—just the kind that specifically ruins my life.

Call it a trauma-based early warning system. You get bullied long enough, you start noticing the air pressure change before the fist swings. You hear tone shifts no one else hears. Your entire nervous system becomes a paranoia-fueled radar tuned to bullshit and incoming disasters.

So the moment Jin slid that door open, something inside me screamed.

And by "screamed," I mean it grabbed me by the spine and tossed out all hesitation out the window.

I didn't wait. I didn’t ask. I just hurled the chair I was holding straight at the door with everything I had.

Now, Jin’s dumbass bulk was blocking most of my view, but I saw just enough to make my stomach fold in on itself. What stood in the hallway wasn’t... right. It was human-shaped—but not. Like someone had drawn a person from memory and got 80% correct before running out of reference material.

Jin froze.

Which was great, because if he hadn’t, that thing would’ve probably torn his face off in one lovely jump-scare of a bite.

The chair nailed it square in the face mid-lunge.

It stumbled back, let out this unholy hiss, and then snapped its dislocated jaw back into place like it was adjusting a helmet.

That was when shit really hit the fan.

It charged.

Screams exploded behind me—actual, full-volume horror-movie screeches. The kind only a room full of rich, sheltered girls who think “trauma” means getting ghosted after a date can produce. And let me tell you—it was awful. Like shattering-glass-in-a-blender awful.

Meanwhile, Jin was still lying on the floor like someone yanked the batteries out of him.

Of course.

So I ran.

Mid-sprint, I grabbed the closest object that even vaguely resembled a weapon—a metal baseball bat resting on top of a locker, thank you, forgotten P.E. equipment—and spun it hard enough to qualify for a Beyblade tournament.

And I swung.

Crack.

Right in the face.

The thing went flying back into the hallway, slammed against the opposite wall, and slumped, twitching like a broken puppet.

Everyone went dead quiet.

No more screams. Just stares. Stunned silence.

I walked up to the doorway and calmly slid it shut.

“I guess now we know what the Hollows are,” I muttered, tossing out a small, bitter laugh.

I made my way back to my corner and plopped down beside Riku and Shion.

Jin was still on the floor, possibly pretending to be dead. Or maybe his ego flatlined from the shame of being saved by his personal punching bag.

From across the room, a voice I hadn’t heard all day finally spoke.

"...Is that what we’re supposed to kill to get out of here?" Kasumi.

Her voice was small, her hands half-covering her mouth. She looked like she was about two breaths away from sobbing.

“There’s no way,” Mei added, wide-eyed. “What the fuck even was that?”

Ms. Hoshino stood frozen for a moment, then forced herself to swallow whatever horror she was pushing down.

“Well, Kenta,” she said dryly, “I guess that counts as proof that shit is officially off the rails.”

Kenta turned to her like someone just stole his soul, fear written all over his usually smug face. He didn’t argue.

Even Reina—who was still being princess-carried like Cleopatra—nodded along with him.

No sass.

No lines.

No “do-you-know-who-my-dad-is.”

Just silence.

And suddenly, that was even scarier.

The silence that followed was the kind that clung to your skin.

Nobody said a word.

Not because they were processing.

But because they were cracked open—broken.

The entire class had shrunk into themselves like wilted flowers. Spoiled kids, born into safety, now face-to-face with something their money couldn’t fix. Some rocked back and forth. Others hugged their knees. A few just mumbled nonsense to themselves like broken record players.

I looked to my right—Riku was curled up in the corner. Arms wrapped around his legs. Shaking. Face pale like he’d seen death in 4K. I felt a tiny flicker of pity…

…but then I remembered every time he turned away when they made me suffer.

Nope. Sympathy revoked.

To my left, Shion wasn’t rocking or muttering, but she didn’t look untouched either. Her breathing was shallow, and there was a rawness in her eyes. She’d fought off the panic, but barely.

I was about to say something—maybe try and plan the next step—but that’s when it hit.

The scream.

Ear-splitting. Raw. Feral.

My head snapped up, and there she was—Reina—gripping her hair with white-knuckled fists and howling like a banshee on fire. Her face was a twisted mask of rage and hysteria. That scream lasted a solid fifteen seconds, and when it cut off, the silence afterward felt even worse.

Then, without warning, she shot to her feet.

I flinched. Hard.

She muttered something under her breath—too low for me to catch—but Kenta and Jin definitely heard. They stood too, faces blank but obedient. Soldiers without a war.

Red flags. Fucking everywhere.

I rose to my feet.

Ms. Hoshino stepped forward carefully. “Reina? What are you planning to do?”

Reina didn’t answer. Just kept whispering to her boys and gesturing toward the door.

When Hoshino reached out to grab her wrist—gently, mind you—Reina spun and slapped her.

Hard.

The sound rang out through the classroom like a gunshot. Everyone froze.

“Don’t touch me, you fucking bitch,” Reina shrieked. “I’m not dying here. I’m getting out of this hellhole, and I’m taking people who aren’t cowards with me.”

I couldn’t even focus on her words. I was staring at Hoshino.

She stood there for a beat. Silent. Perfectly still.

And then she slowly turned her head toward Reina—and something shifted.

I didn’t see her expression. But Reina did.

Because she stepped back.

That’s when Hoshino reached up, undid her cufflinks, and placed them on the nearest desk. Deliberate. Controlled.

Then smack.

Open palm. Full force.

Reina flew back into Kenta’s arms like she’d just taken a cannonball to the face.

“I’ve tolerated you, Reina Ogawa,” Hoshino said in a voice so low and sharp it could’ve carved marble. “But now, I think it’s time I treat you the way you deserve.”

And that’s when things got insane.

Reina lunged.

Like, lunged-lunged—nails bared, screaming at the top of her lungs, diving for Hoshino like a damn wild animal. They crashed to the floor, fists and slaps and shrieks flying in every direction.

I was already moving, but I wasn’t the only one—Shion darted forward to help break them apart—

And then Kasumi, of all people, shoved her back.

“Fuck off,” Kasumi snarled. “Let her do what she wants.”

What?

I caught Shion before she stumbled too far and steadied her. “You okay?”

She nodded, but her eyes gleamed—sharp and focused. I knew that look. She was tracking Kasumi’s every move now.

Good.

I turned back to the chaos.

Reina and Hoshino were still rolling on the ground, screaming, clawing, like some twisted parody of a wrestling match.

Someone needed to break it up.

I took a step forward—only to have Jin and Kenta step in front of me.

They didn’t say anything.

Just stood there.

Blocking me.

And that’s when the lump hit my throat.

Because now?

Now this wasn’t a classroom anymore.

It was a powder keg.

And someone had already lit the fuse.

The classroom was dead silent, except for the chaotic wrestling match happening right in front of us.

Reina and Ms. Hoshino were still rolling across the floor, trading slaps and claws like two feral cats in a death match. You’d think the rest of the class—especially her precious clique—would do something. But nope. Jin, Kenta, Mei, and Aya just stood there, slack-jawed, watching like it was some kind of low-budget drama series.

Honestly, I couldn’t blame them. I wasn’t doing anything either.

Reina going full psycho was surprising enough—but attacking Hoshino? That was a plot twist.

Still, it didn’t last long.

Hoshino wasn’t just older—she was built different. Years of pent-up teacher rage and suppressed trauma probably made her immune to bratty outbursts. With practiced efficiency, she rolled Reina off, stood up, and delivered another devastating slap that echoed off the walls like gunfire.

Reina stumbled, eyes glassy, almost… stunned.

“As much of a brat as you are, Reina,” Hoshino said calmly, brushing invisible dust off her sleeve, “I’m not letting you walk out of this room and march to your deaths.”

Wow. Beautiful. Our beloved homeroom teacher—compassionate, firm, and terrifying.

And you’d think that would be the moment Reina realized she fucked up. That this was the time for reflection, apology, and maybe a light sobbing session.

Nope.

She leaned into Kenta’s arms like a fragile little rose… then snapped her head toward him with a look that could curdle milk.

Kenta nodded.

I saw it. The silent exchange. The “you ready to throw hands with a government worker?” kind of nod.

Then Kenta—our brave, dumb golden retriever of a boyfriend—marched straight toward Ms. Hoshino with fists clenched like he was about to fight in the MMA.

“If you won’t let us leave,” he said, voice shaky but determined, “then I’ll make you.”

I blinked. Slowly.

Was this real?

Dude was about to square up with his teacher because she… what? Wanted to keep him alive?

This was a new low.

No one moved. Not a damn soul stepped in.

Fine.

Guess that meant it was my turn to be the adult.

I took one step forward—only to hear Shion’s voice slice through the air.

“Mika—duck!”

I didn’t hesitate. When your class psychic tells you to dodge, you don’t ask questions. You obey.

I dropped low just in time for Jin’s fist to slice the air where my face had been a second ago. I actually felt the wind rush past my ear. If that had connected?

I’d be on the floor, probably seeing Jesus in 4K.

I backed up, staring at him in disbelief. Jin stood there, arm still extended, fists clenched like a trained fighter.

“Stay out of it, fucker,” he snarled.

I raised my hands. “What the hell is your problem?! You trying to kill me now?”

“We’re getting out of here,” he snapped. “I don’t care what that freak on the board said. Nobody traps me like a fucking rat.”

I snorted. Couldn’t help it. “You mean the same freak that made you piss yourself when a Hollow came at you earlier?”

His face twitched. His jaw clenched.

“That was a fluke. It caught me off guard,” he spat. “It won’t happen again.”

“Oh really?” I smiled. “You gonna ask it nicely this time?”

Wrong move.

He roared and charged.