The pill

Imada looks at me with frowns, realizing that she has no choice but to play my game. I don't know if I would be able to rat her, but if my life is at stake I don't think I could think twice about this. I make space for Imada to pass by, giving her one last sharp look. My life depends on this moment. I can even imagine what would happen if Imada didn't keep our little pact.

"Iwamoto!"

I turn my back and find Furukawa, who has just left the principal office. Hokama is not with her, which means they most likely entered separately.

"Iwamoto, I'm sorry. I said I left you at home. But Hokama explained to me that she would tell what she had to say against you, but I'm not sure I know what that means..." Furukawa whispers, taking a deep breath.

The day passes without further incident. But what worries me most is Hokama and the testimony she testified against me. I don't know if my life is in danger or hers at the moment.

After class, I pack my things, carefully put the note I used to blackmail Imada into the closet and start cleaning the hallways with the maid. Not long after, realizing that I have to get home right away, take a shower, and head to the guitar class I'm always looking forward to.

My parents did not return to work after being called to the school, which is why I was able to enjoy a quiet shower. I ate some yogurt cookies as a snack after school lunch and headed to my guitar teacher's house.

Because the Regions are divided into sectors, they are very small. So, I can cycle the whole area in just twenty minutes. The guitar teacher is only two minutes away from school. Just twelve minutes from my house to her.

I get off the bike and call the intercom, hearing the melodious voice of my guitar teacher answering in an instant moment. I hear a beep coming from the door and then another beep informing me that the door is open. When I close it behind me, the system that locks the door locks in place with one last beep. Then I go up to the top floor, which is the 2nd floor, and knock on the door.

To prevent all suicides, the blocks are built only up to the second floor, so if someone tried to take their days off by jumping from the window, they would get injured and go to jail. Many of the buildings have bars that are impossible to break with their free hands anyway, thus preventing suicides in a much safer way and without the need for imprisonment.

When she opens the door for me, my teacher greets me with her incredibly tall height and her curly red hair. I greet her formally and politely and when she closes the door behind me I jump with my hands towards her, embracing her in a hug that almost takes my breath away.

"Iwamoto, hey!" she tells me, catching me in the tightest hug she can give me.

"Mrs. Tomiko!" I say in return, whispering so no one can hear us.

Given that she's just my guitar teacher, we don't let people know that we're actually more friends and that we don't have a strictly professional relationship. And the longing we have for each other is huge and due to the fact that my guitar lessons are scheduled only once a week.

"Come in the living room, I'm teaching you a new song today," she tells me, winking at me.

I take off my shoes at the entrance and I realize that I really forgot my guitar at home. This isn't necessarily a problem, given that she also has several guitars and can borrow them from me, so no one would suspect anything at all.

I enter the living room, a fairly simple one with a double sofa, an armchair, a small TV on a table, and a coffee table in front of the sofa. The guitars are indispensable and are well cared for, placed on a wall opposite the window so as not to feel the temperatures too high in summer, but also the humidity and cold in winter. Such temperatures can damage the strings, and accidents can be much more frequent. Many cut their faces in two when a string simply cracked.

I sit on the gray sofa, the walls being of course white. Rarely, an institute gives the owner permission to paint his walls in colors other than white, and most of the time, these colors are very pale, being similar to white. Other colors are by no means flashy or too prominent. Everything seems erased, but fortunately, Mrs. Tomiko's guitars are those brightly colored spots that my eye is always looking for, just like the paintings in the school lobby.

Mrs. Tomiko brings two cups of tea and a teapot from which she pours steaming tea without asking me. She always knows I want tea, given that I adore it. I don't know what she puts in it or what it's made of, but I've never drunk such tea, and the effect it has on me is incredible, calming me every time. I thank her, nodding and smiling slightly. She sits next to me, lighting a cigarette, which is absolutely illegal.

Because Mrs. Tomiko brings a lot of things from the black market, she has some anti-tobacco beans that stop the smell of cigarettes. In fact, I have the impression that tea is also made from plants taken from the black market. However, although she often gives me illegal products, she never told me how she got them.

"How are you, Iwamoto?"

Mrs. Tomiko is a widow. She always has a warm smile on her face and is in a good mood all the time. I've never seen her angry or nervous. She is a very intelligent woman with a spine. She is always on the alert and knows a lot of information about the society we live in as if she were part of a secret sect.

"Honestly, I only have problems."

Her expression turns to a shock, putting her cup of tea on the table immediately without even taking a sip. Nagamine's personality looked a lot like hers. No wonder, given that at the boarding school, Mrs. Tomiko took care of us most of the time. In her free time, she teaches guitar and meditations to secondary school children in many, many surprising subjects. I don't know how she remembers so many things. She works for the benefit of the community, doing this work for free after she was caught with contraband items that she certifies she found on the ground. Her husband died some time ago, and the rules forbid her to find another man as a soulmate, given that this time is long gone.

"What exactly happened?"

"I don't even know where to start," I say, scratching my head with one hand and holding the cup of tea in the other one, and sipping a mouthful of hot liquid. "It all started when Nagamine died and I had a nervous breakdown..."

"Nagamine ... did he commit suicide in the end?" Mrs. Tomiko asks, lowering her sorrowful gaze.

I nod, lowering the cup. Nagamine also played guitar. We decided that we would both do it so that Mrs. Tomiko could take care of us both at the same time. She also knew Nagamine's suicidal thoughts, and we were both curious if he could do that. Although Mrs. Tomiko tried to stop him from committing suicide, it seems that Nagamine listened more to his own will... or my instincts.

No matter how much his death affects me, seeing him all the time helps me talk about him as if he were still alive. I wish he was alive, but at least he got rid of the torment here. However, the fact that his life is in danger in Purgatory does not reassure me too much.

"I had a nervous breakdown, a kind of panic attack and I hit one of my friends. The weird part - although you'll see how crazy it sounds - I didn't move my hand much and felt something inside me move."

Mrs. Tomiko raised the corners of her mouth briefly in a smile that proved to me that she had a sure answer to this problem. I don't say anything anymore and I wait for her to continue the conversation, but she doesn't say anything, hiding her smile when she notices that I look at her insistently. It beckons me to continue.

"Then I was punished. I started dreaming of a strange world that resembles Hell, then I met Nagamine in a dream and he took me to his world, so we could talk to each other. It sounds crazy, but he told me that the world's name was Purgatory."

I stop again, waiting for Mrs. Tomiko to say something, but she just beckons me to continue. Frustrated that she doesn't say anything about it, I keep throwing everything out, even though she might consider me crazy about tying.

"I imagined that Imada would fall, and that's exactly what happened, just to my imagination. I provided a home inspection and some kind of surprise test at school. Again, they came true. Nagamine is with me almost everywhere I go. I was able to listen to Hokama's thoughts, once by mistake and once voluntarily, with the help of Nagamine, who is dead," I begin to say in an ironic and irritated tone. "I'm under criminal investigation because I went to Nagamine's grave and worst of all, I blackmailed Imada into not giving false testimony against me, but Hokama accuses me of being a witch, her testimony being about that."

I take a deep breath, realizing that my lungs needed this because I had forgotten to breathe during my speech. Mrs. Tomiko looks at me in horror, sitting still on the couch.

"I don't even know where to start..."

"How about telling me everything you know about witches," I say, realizing that she knows a ton of information about this subject.

"It's a very broad discussion and I don't think you're ready..."

"Mrs. Tomiko, with all due respect, but I'm under criminal investigation because a girl abhors that I might have supernatural powers, even though I thought so," I interrupt her. "So, please, tell me everything!"

"I'll explain everything to you, I promise. But don't you think we should prepare for what's next? Because hard times are coming for you and your brother."

"Kaba? What about Kaba? Did something happen to him?" I jumped off the couch, gesturing as if I already knew the answer.

Mrs. Tomiko motions for me to sit back on the couch and keep my voice whispered.

"Kaba is just fine, only there was a small incident at one of the tests and now he is being kept under surveillance. Things are very complicated and, although I will make sure that nothing happens to him, he may not come home too soon."

I feel dizzy, the couch getting softer as if I were sinking into it. I want to sip a bit of tea, but I have the impression that if I take the cup of tea in my hand now, I might drop it and break it. Moreover, I have the impression that all my limbs will fall, leaving only a piece of the body without hands or feet.

Iwamoto!

I suddenly wake up to reality, feeling worse and worse. I hear my name shouted by the voice of a small child and even if I don't know exactly whose voice it is, I have the strange feeling that it belongs to my brother, Kaba. My voice echoed in my ears, hearing my name about three times, just as I heard Hokama's thoughts. As if these voices were only trapped in my head.

"Kaba is suspected of being a young wizard..."

"Mrs. Tomiko..." I say scared, my voice shaking. "What is the thing about wizards and witches?"

Mrs. Tomiko sighs for a long time, takes a sip of tea, and grabs my hand, reassuring me with constant, delicate caresses.

"Golden Power is afraid of wizards. For this reason, boarding school is mandatory. The test you have had so many times is to test children. Given that you are only kids when you enter the boarding school, your impulses are stronger, so it is much easier for us, the supervisors, to find out which of you has the power of wizards and witches."

"What happens to children who are possible wizards?"

"They are taken to special rooms, isolated from the rest of the children. They sit alone every day and wait for a verdict or a person to explain to them what is happening. They are strictly supervised and then subjected to several tests, much harder. Then they should be taken somewhere far away, on the islands belonging to Cursed Land, being named as contagious children. Unfortunately, this doesn't happen very often and they are frequently killed..."

Iwamoto!

I hear my name again in a voice calling for help, full of pain and suffering. A scared voice of a child who wants to go back to his mother. I feel my head heavy, a sharp pain erupting in my temples. I refrain and when I open my mouth to say something else, Mrs. Tomiko continues:

"But I will not allow such a thing to happen to your brother, little Kaba Akemi."

Mrs. Tomiko got up from the couch and disappeared from the living room without another word. I try to assimilate everything I've heard now, but my mind is too blurred, unable to calm it down and focus on one thought. In fact, I'm not thinking about anything concrete.

My guitar teacher comes back, handing me a metal box. I turn with robotic, jerky, slow movements toward her, realizing that she is actually holding a metal box in her hand, just as I had intuited without realizing it.

"It's a black market pill inside. It would be best to take it when you are 16, preferably before you go to bed. It relaxes you a lot. And I guarantee you the following explanations will come before our next meeting. Iwamoto, can you hear me?"