TWO

The principal's office had never felt so claustrophobic.

Usually, the room would be lit by the long window that stretched from the floor to the roof behind the principal's desk. It elicited a sense of power, grandeur—not this time. The light was dim at best, covered by the spread of fleshy, indigo tumors.

Drips of a liquid constantly fell on his nose. Every time he looked at the source, his eyes would immediately recoil to where their original target.

Sharp teeth with no sense of direction or order distilled the transparent drool from their gums. It wasn't a mouth or a jaw, but a line of fangs that hung from the roof like mere decorations. They pulsed every time the thing in front of him spoke.

It was as if his mind was taunting him to look away, only to be punished for it. As if he were being tested for paying attention to the fleshy being whose single eye never wavered, never diverted. The back of its head produced a ligament that connected with the window, spreading decayed rot everywhere each time its hands flipped the pages on his desk.

"Vu Hikari," the figure spoke, its head bloating with every word. Kuro did not know where the mouth was, but words came out of it, "What am I even going to do with you?"

"Principal... I..."

"Vandalism, bullying, and now—" veins tensed around the principal's head, "manslaughter."

Kuro closed his eyes, yet the rot's pulsing forced him to open them again.

The principal growled, "Do you have anything to say?"

Kuro clasped his hands, his eyes fixated on the eye. 

"You always do this," the principal said, his fleshy hands on the table, "You look at me and don't say anything."

He pointed beyond Kuro.

"Behind that door lies the police, ready to take you in for committing a crime. Talk to me, Kuro. Ichigo-san is putting all the blame on you—that you killed Serisawa."

"I-Ichigo?"

"Yes, he claims you threw Serisawa from the roof in a struggle," the principal's eye gained red veins, tensing its iris on Kuro, "whatever you were doing there before homeroom class, it doesn't matter. I want to hear your version, "

The vision of Serisawa's face on the pavement flashed before him, and Kuro shook his head. "It was..."

"It was?"

Kuro's eyes looked at the principal again, the eye was beyond his desk, right into his face.

"I-it... I-it..."

The pupil dilated, and new veins formed. Kuro felt cold and hot over and over. He wanted to say the truth, to say that it was all an accident.

But the eye... The eye was too much. Kuro's lips were open, yet his teeth gritted and betrayed him. His chest visibly inflated, and his hair dripped with sweat and drool of something only he could see.

The tumors accelerated their infestation over the place as the principal grew impatient.

"Hikari," the principal growled. The room grew darker, "Say something, dammit!"

Serisawa. The principal. The office.

Too much. It's too much!

Kuro opened his mouth. His teeth finally let go. His eyes tried their best to see past the horror and speak to the person in front of him.

"GHa—"

Tears ran down his face. Sobs turned to crying as he closed his eyes. He had no strength to resist whatsoever. His spirit was gone. It no longer conveyed its will unto strength. 

Kuro only heard the principal's footsteps go past him and the door open.

"Vu Hikari," an unfamiliar voice said as his arm was grabbed and dragged away from the chair, "You're under arrest under suspicion of manslaughter."

As he exited the principal's office, he thought the horrid visions would stop. 

He thought wrong.

"Vu Hikari..."

"Hikari-kun..."

"Kuro..."

The myriad whispers slithered into his ears like an invisible force, thrusting the boy's eyes open again.

An all-consuming darkness had encroached on the school, as only three steps ahead seemed to light up like torchlight. The police's hands pushed him forward into the darkness, where its dwellers stared at him with wide-open eyes. 

Never before had he seen his school like this. It was now a realm of eyes. A realm he could not escape nor avoid. He wanted to run.

Where?

There's nowhere to run; the eyes fixated on him from the dark. He wished he weren't exploring. He didn't want to know what horrific faces those bulbous eyes should the light touch them.

Still, the officer's hands pushed him with haste, no time to cope.

Kill me, just kill me.

"So he killed Serisawa..."

"They said Kuro wanted to be like him..."

"Kuro?"

"Don't you know, Hikari-kun hides a birthmark under that messy hair."

"Who knew he had it in him?"

"What?"

"To kill, I mean... and to do it so blatantly..."

Murder...

Murderer...

Kill me...

I want to die...

I don't want this...

Yet the hands pushed him forward. 

Kuro was engulfed in nightmares, and the darkness compelled him. He obeyed the dark, and the horrors punished him for it.

What hell could be worse than this?

He just wanted it to be over.

The dark hands took Kuro down some stairs. Then, an alley, and more stairs. Everywhere he went, new eyes showed to continue the torture. 

Finally, the oppressive corridors were gone. Finally, an open courtyard.

But the eyes multiplied. They surrounded him, spiralling. Thump. Thump... they flapped the wind in his ears, blurring into lines of yellow and white.

Kuro was shoved into the police car, which was the only normal thing in that forsaken place. The spiralling eyes stopped, but now they trembled and whitened as the murmurs of the entire school sang into a chilling, shrieking choir like altered bats.

The car started and drove away.

It was too late, however, Kuro had taken all the vision in. 

Disappointment, disdain.

Never—not even once—did his eyes dare to look away from this. It was as if this was his punishment for being a coward, for failing.

There, in the passenger's seat, he finally uttered words.

"Mom... I can't do this... not without you... I thought I could..."

The sky never turned back to normal. Only the buildings got cleared of the darkness. That was, however, because the people there hadn't met him yet—hadn't met the disappointment he was.

"They all cry to mummy when the thrill of mischief goes away," the police officer said from the driver's seat, "So where is she? Hmm? Where is your mom?"

"She's... gone." 

The patrolman shrugged, "Pffft, and dad?"

A sudden pulse pressed his head.

Dad. Don't take me to him, he thought, as he panted.

"He's... He's..."

"Hmm?" 

"Away..."

"Huh, typical."

The car suddenly felt faster, as if the sole mention of 'Dad' had pressed the accelerator.