The Answer

Back in middle school, Kiro had a serious habit of wearing sweatpants all the time. As they had a natural tendency to fall off, he had to tie the band rather tightly, else they’d come down the moment he’d get up from his seat. All that constriction made him a regular for going to the bathroom, thus it surprised neither him nor Keano that he was making another visit while working on their group project.

Kiro stepped out of the classroom with a whistle on his tongue and a pep in his step. Altogether, it wasn't a terrible day. Sure, things were stressful, but when weren't they. It all seemed pretty normal, at least until he approached the bathroom and he heard a series of familiar whispers. Peeking around the corner, he saw his groupmates huddled together just outside the bathroom doors.

“Hey-” he started.

“Should we head back?” the Mosquito buzzed, not noticing Kiro. “Pretty sure it’s been like, more than twenty minutes since we left those two.”

“Nah, dude. This works all the time.” The Pilotfish said.

“Yeah,” the Leech snorted. “We’ve got ten more minutes.”

Kiro felt a little bit dirty listening any further. He was already moving off to go try another bathroom.

“He's such a pushover. I hear he’s even walking Ougi’s dog for her.”

The Pilotfish’s words froze Kiro in place.

“Seriously?!” The Mosquito laughed. “What, is he crushing on her or somethin’?”

“Nah, he just does this all the time,” the Pilotfish replied. “Guess he thinks it’ll make people like him more.”

Kiro's knees began to shake.

“All you gotta do is just feed him a compliment and boom.” The Leech snapped his fingers. “Easiest B+ of your life.”

Kiro collapsed silently against the nearest wall, letting himself slide down along his back.

“Hey. That got me thinking,” said the Pilotfish. “Let’s see how far we can milk him for what he’s worth.”

The Mosquito snickered. “I wouldn’t mind some extra free time.”

“My wallet’s been feeling a little light too,” the Leech piped in. “Think he’ll fix that for me?”

Kiro's hands gripped at his temples. His stomach ached and his eyes burned. But he couldn't summon the will to escape back to his ignorance. Kiro sat there for who-knows-how-long, until they stopped laughing and gossiping.

When they finished, they headed back to class, walking right past him without even noticing he was there.

---

Kiro's mess of a bed was always the best place to be whenever he felt down. Being the most comfortable piece of furniture he owned, it also contained between its many messy sheets pretty much everything he cared about. The incessant, but gentle pitter-pattering of the rain clashed with the silence filling his head.

In an attempt to bury himself in his sheets, something sharp prodded him in the side. Sitting up, he reached into the covers and withdrew his DND figure. Half of it was well-worn. The other half was bright, having been recently repainted to bear the same, frizzy reddish hair and features as him.

As Kiro twiddled it around in his hands, a wave of guilt washed over him. All the Undersea adventures he had—all the laughter and the mistakes passed through his mind in sequence.

Why do I ruin everything?

Kiro cleared a couple of books off of his bed with a lazy swipe, setting the action figure down in the middle of the bed. He stared deep into the toy’s plastic eyes.

“How do I fix this?” Kiro grumbled.

Despite entirely expecting it, the silence didn’t feel any less pointed.

Another wave of regrets hit him. Keano's angry, betrayed face. The disappointment in Maia’s eyes. The pain that was written all along Ai’s face before Kiro stormed out on her.

“It feels like they're pulling me apart. How do I get it all out of my head?” he asked the figure.

This time, the silence was poignant, and Kiro nodded. He started looking for his other figures. Once he pulled G.I. Jane out from behind his pillow, he set her across from Kironius, and placed Megatroid on the opposite side.

“You've been lying to me,” G.I. Jane said in Ai’s voice. “How could you spend time with them after promising not to?”

“You don't owe her literally all of your time.” Megatroid replied as Keano. “Isn't that kind of unreasonable?”

The dialogue was at an impasse, so Kiro reached underneath his bed and brought out a figure of Babe Valentine from Clownboy Beatbox.

“Quit your crying,” she said with Maia’s gruffness. “Aren't you supposed to be this big Brave hero that solves people's problems?”

“It really doesn't feel like it sometimes,” Kiro replied, facing Kironius towards her.

She snorted. “You're the one that wanted to help everyone out. Isn't it hypocritical for you to back off now?”

“That’s not true.”

“Is it now?” She asked. “You're the one that butted into my business when you saw me after work.”

“Yeah,” Megatroid added. “If you didn't offer to fill the missing seat at our sessions, then I wouldn't be your problem to begin with.”

“What about me?” asked G.I. Jane. “If you never stepped in back in the alleyway, you wouldn’t have had to lie to me. You wouldn’t have hurt me.”

“I know!” Kiro gasped. “I know it's my fault! I'm sorry for ever getting involved in your lives.”

“Sorry isn't gonna cut it,” Babe Valentine replied. “Stop crying and get your priorities straight.”

“I’m still waiting for you,” Jane said.

“Aren't you going to apologize to me?” Megatroid piled on.

Their voices started to sound closer to reality, their plastic bodies morphing into their real selves in his hands.

“I’m trying, but… But I don't know how I can help everyone!”

“You really think you of all people can help anyone?” Babe Valentine asked. “You're the one that's talking to himself through his dolls.”

“They're not dolls, they're…”

Kiro paused, listening to the raindrops fall against his window.

“They're my friends. You're all my friends.”

“So?” Valentine followed up. “What are you going to do about it?”

Kiro held his figure up in the dim light. “I’m-”

“Uhh… champ?”

In shock, Kiro threw his figures in the air. His head swung towards the door, eyes wide like a racoon caught in a dumpster. Richard slightly stuck his head out, his face twisted in concern.

“Dad!” One of the figures plopped against Kiro’s hair before landing back on his mattress. “I, uh…”

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Richard asked. “You sounded pretty excited there, talking to your… toys.”

“No, I’m good!” Kiro exhaled. “Never better.”

As soon as he calmed down, the empty feeling in Kiro’s chest came back.

“Well, alright.” Richard stepped into the room. “So, I was thinkin’. Ever wonder how cupcakes are made in cups and pancakes are made in a pan?”

Kiro stared blankly at his dad before letting out a chuckle. Against his will, it grew into a laugh, and then into a breathless cackle.

“Geez,” Richard rubbed the back of his neck. “I knew it was a good one, but I didn't think it was that good. Didn’t even get to the punchline.”

The building nausea in Kiro’s stomach melted away instantly as he wiped the tears from his eyes and struggled to catch his breath. He looked up at his father, meeting his lovable mug square in the eyes.

“Dad,” Kiro said, sniffing up a tear. “Thanks for always being there.”

Richard's eyes widened. His already red face grew redder. “Is this your way of telling me to go away?”

Kiro shook his head. “No, I mean it. I appreciate you.”

“Umm, err…” Richard shifted in the doorway. “Oh! I uh, brought you these.”

Hastily, Richard raised a glass of milk and a plate of Maia's cookies from behind his back.

“Figured you could use a picker-upper since you were cooped up in your dark room all day.” Richard said, laying the snacks on Kiro's empty desk. “Hope you feel better soon.”

Before Kiro gave him another thanks, Richard rushed out of the room trying to hide his blush in his collar. Kiro stared at the doorway, a slight smile formed on his face.

His action figures had turned back into their normal selves again.

---

The next day, classes seemed to fly by. With a busy mind and a vexed heart, it was hard to sweat the small stuff like homework and participation. It wasn't until the lunch bell after Lovecleft’s class that Kiro was shaken out of the loop.

Lovecleft hovered over to him as he was packing his stuff. The teacher’s expression was warm, but noticeably concerned.

“How have you been, Kiro?”

Kiro snapped to and scrambled to nod. “Good! I’m doing good. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no. Quite the opposite, in fact. Your grades have improved significantly recently, and you've been paying attention during almost every class.” Lovecleft raised a tentacle for emphasis. “That is, except for today.”

“Oh.”

The boy's first instinct was to try and make a break for the door. By habit, he continued to pack, but this time around he kept himself rooted.

Kiro set his things upon his desk and met his teacher's gaze.

“There’s something I actually want to ask you, Professor. Something important.”

The smooth ridge where Lovecleft’s eyebrows should have been went up. He cleared his throat and shook the surprise off of himself.

“Why, of course. I'm flattered that you would trust me enough to give you advice.”

“Well,” Kiro cocked his head, trying to find the words. “Let’s say you were in a situation of sorts. One where you felt stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

“In what way?”

“In a situation where you felt like… both of you and the other person in a relationship weren't really getting what they wanted out of it. What would you do?”

“Kiro.” Lovecleft put a tentacle under his chin in thought. “Do you remember the day when I assigned you to my special study hall?”

“How could I not… ?” Kiro mumbled.

“I asked you a question just before I did so. Do you also remember that?”

“You mean the one about having dreams?”

“That’s right.” Lovecleft nodded. “Have you found your answer yet?”

Kiro opened his mouth, but no words came out. All he could do was stand with his jaw dropped, echoing Maia-Valentine’s words from last night in his head:

“Stop crying and get your priorities straight.”

“I can’t give you the answers behind how you should live your life, Kiro. I don’t know what you’ve been through and whether or not you ever choose to share that with me is up to you.” Lovecleft laid a hand on his student’s shoulder. “But I do know that knowing yourself is the first step to knowing others. And inevitably, when we come to understand others, we are forced to reflect on who we are. So what are your dreams, Kiro? What do you want?”

Kiro stared at Lovecleft’s tentacle, his head still swirling. The boy nodded to his teacher.

“I think… I get what you’re trying to say.” Kiro put on his backpack. “Thank you, Professor.”

“You’re a bright kid.” Lovecleft said. “I trust you’ll find an honest answer.”

As Kiro walked out the door, he didn’t answer Lovecleft. No, he couldn’t answer him. Despite his growling stomach, he didn’t feel like he had an appetite at all. So he stood there in the hall, watching the last of his monstrous peers filter out.

Just as he found himself entirely alone, his phone played a melody in barks. Kiro sighed.

Of all the times, Maia…

He brought the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hello? Is this Kiro?” asked an unfamiliar, feminine voice, marked by an equally unfamiliar accent.

“Uh, yeah?” Kiro’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Who is this?”

“I’m Maia’s mother. My daughter, she’s… in the hospital.”

Kiro's entire body tensed up. The strength of his panicked grip formed a new crack on the surface of his decrepit phone.

“What happened?! Is she okay?!”

“She's stable. But I can't stay with her for long. I need someone to watch her until I can come back from work, and you were the only person she let me call.”

“I'll be right there! It’s the medical center downtown, right?”

“Yes. Thank you, for everything.” Miss Park’s voice wavered. “For taking care of my daughter.”

The line clicked dead.

Kiro stared blankly at the screen for several minutes, before scrambling to input the hospital into his phone’s map application. As he zoomed in and out to analyze the unfamiliar route, a banner notification popped down from the top of the screen with a meow.

“Hey, I'm at the cafeteria.”

He stared at Ai’s message, almost biting a hole through his lip.

“Is everything okay?” Ai continued.

Kiro brought up Keano's contact box. His fingers hovered over the keyboard as his chest tightened. Another message from Ai came in.

“I'm sorry. I know things didn't go too well last time, but I want to make it up to you.”

The boy couldn't think straight, but by now, he knew better than to give himself a chance to overthink. With time and pressure mounting, he made his decision.

To Ai, he sent:

“Sorry. I'm not feeling great today, so I think I'm just going to go home early.”

And to Keano:

“Maia's in the hospital. The one downtown. I'm not asking for forgiveness, but she needs us right now. I know it's much to ask, but please meet me there as soon as possible.”