Traitor

The first sign of trouble was Kazuko’s absence in math class. This alone would have been quite normal—Kazuko often skipped class—but several of Kazuko’s friends were also missing.

Then, during Airi’s next class, a student knocked. “The principal wants to see you.”

That was how Airi ended up in the principal’s office at lunchtime, sitting stiffly beside Kazuko. The brown-haired girl was there, too. Her shorn braid sat on the principal’s desk, looking as important as a murder weapon.

Airi eyed Kazuko, whose flushed cheeks betrayed her, even as she stared defiantly ahead. Was that pride or shame on Kazuko’s face? Airi couldn’t tell. She maintained a neutral expression as the principal turned his attention to her.

“You know why I called you in, don’t you?”

Airi chose to play dumb. “No, sir.”

The principal smiled, though his eyes were stony. “Then let me refresh your memory. Yesterday, a teacher heard a scream from a classroom on the second floor, so he went to investigate. And what did he find? You and your friends had cut this young lady’s hair and fled the scene. Tell me, isn’t that correct?”

Airi felt like every breath she took was too loud. “That’s correct.”

How am I supposed to get myself out of this situation? She risked a glare at Kazuko. Finally, the queen bee’s careless arrogance had caught up to her.

“Bullying will not be tolerated at this school. Before I inform you of the consequences, do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Expulsion. Suspension. The potential consequences swirled through Airi’s head, quickening her thoughts.

“...I was afraid of her.”

“What?” The principal stared at Airi. So did Kazuko.

Airi avoided Kazuko’s eyes. “I was afraid of Kazuko. That’s why I didn’t stop her. I know it doesn’t excuse my inaction, sir, and I’m very sorry. But you should know—” and Airi took a deep breath, knowing there was no going back from here. The lie unspooled like thread from her tongue: “Sir, Kazuko bullies me, too. That’s why I was afraid of her. You should know that Kazuko is kind of... the queen bee of the school, sir. She...”

“That is so not true, sir!” Kazuko blurted.

Forcing herself to ignore Kazuko, Airi said in her most tremulous voice, “Please, sir. I’m telling the truth.”

“I was under the impression that you were friends with her.” The principal’s eyes were filled with concern now, as well as suspicion.

“No, sir. I don’t know her that well,” Airi said, even as she thought of all the photos on her phone that she’d have to delete. There was that one where Kazuko had accidentally spit part of her drink out while Airi was taking the photo, turning the photo into a blurry mess. And the time Kazuko and Airi had gone to the mall right when it opened to snag the best deals. She felt a twinge of regret as she continued, “I’ve never bullied anyone, sir. You can ask her.” She nodded at the brown-haired girl.

“She didn’t cut my hair. She just watched,” the brown-haired girl said after a moment’s pause.

Airi forced herself to look into the brown-haired girl’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said, hoping that she sounded convincing. Her gaze flickered over to the braid on the desk. What a stupid, pointless way to get in trouble. Well, if Kazuko wanted to get herself expelled, she was not taking Airi down with her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want...”

Perhaps her apology was more genuine than she’d thought, or perhaps the stress of the previous day was finally catching up to her, but Airi felt her eyes well with tears. Luckily, that seemed to convince the principal.

“Next time, tell a teacher immediately, understand?”

Sensing that freedom was near, Airi nodded obediently.

“You may go. We’ll speak again tomorrow.”

Keenly aware of Kazuko’s eyes burning into her back, Airi pushed the door open. Once she was out of earshot, she ran, her footfalls slapping the tiled floor.

After school, Airi headed straight for home. She passed by several of Kazuko’s followers on her way without bothering to say hello to any of them. It felt oddly thrilling to not have to wait for Kazuko and head home together in a group. Yet a part of her was a little sad.

Ridiculous, that was what she was. She hadn’t even liked Kazuko! If she could have avoided being bullied some other way, she wouldn’t have become friends with any of them.

Besides, Kazuko was smart. She would have done the same if she’d been in Airi’s situation. That old saying... all for one, one for all? Foolish. No point in everyone going down with one person.

These were the thoughts racing through Airi’s head as she pelted down the sidewalk. Crossing the street, she barely noticed the car speeding down the road towards her until it honked at her.

Annoyed, she turned her head. It was a blue sports car, shiny new, and it sped closer every second. Did the driver have any intention of stopping?

That face...

She knew it.

Kazuko’s eyes gleamed at her from behind the wheel of the sports car. What had Kazuko said about that car? “My dad gave it to me for my birthday.” Several of Kazuko’s friends were piled in the back seat. She herself had sat in the back seat of that car many times.

Airi lifted her hand to wave and stopped mid-motion. Unease wormed its way through her chest.

This wasn’t the way to Kazuko’s house or the convenience store. Or the mall, or any of her usual haunts.

She heard a sound like an engine revving, accelerating. She blinked at Kazuko, unable, despite herself, to look like anything but a deer in the headlights. Say something! “Wait—” But, of course, it was futile to say that to an accelerating vehicle.

The car rammed into her. The initial pain was blinding and Airi couldn’t breathe, but it subsided after a few seconds and gave way to a heavy numbness, spreading through her whole body. She bent, pressed her hands to asphalt, vaguely aware of the blood trickling from her mouth. She coughed and the ground stained red. She had to get up, had to get out of the street... but her arms and legs felt funny. They wouldn’t move.

As the edges of her vision fuzzed and blurred, Airi heard a familiar voice scream, “Bye, traitor!” Shouts of agreement, growing fainter. Someone even laughed. She was almost grateful when the world vanished, taking with it the pain and leaving a cool blackness in its wake.