[KB RW: Book 1] -- Chapter 1 (Patreon)

INDEX || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 

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She dreamed of a library.

There was a boy standing there, all alone among the empty shelves. He seemed profoundly lost, uncertain in the shadows.

She called to him, but no sound came out – she did not know his name.

She reached for him, but could not touch him – she could not move.

The boy turned his head and his eye met hers, and she saw that the color matched, like two silver coins staring at one another through a mirror.

The boy opened his mouth-

BEEP BEEP BEEP

BEEP BEEP BEEP

BEEP BEEP BEE-

Lo scrambled to turn off the alarm on her phone, jolted from her sleep by its jarring sounds. She tapped the screen three times before the beeping ended. Coming up from her covers, she looked at the time.

“Shit!”

Quickly, she threw the covers off of her body and hopped out of bed. Heart pounding, Lo headed for her bedroom door – nearly slamming her face into it in the process of trying to yank it open. She leaped across the hallway to the bathroom, clinging to the sink to keep herself from slipping on the tiled floor.

Lo fumbled with the cap to the mouthwash, swearing until she got it open. She forced herself to be calm as she poured the requisite amount into the cap, and forced herself to be even calmer when she sipped. She made sure to keep count in her mind while she rinsed her mouth, spitting before she quickly resumed what she began to internally call a speedrun of her morning routine.

No time to make breakfast, Lo thought as she crossed the hallway back into her bedroom. Pulling her pajama shirt off over her head, she hastily began applying deodorant. No time for a shower, either...

Lo changed as quickly as she could without putting her clothes on wrong. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off as she pushed her head through the first t-shirt that was on the nearest pile – all black, emblazoned with the band AJR’s logo in white. She was sure she’d worn it some other time this week. Cargo shorts came next, then socks and her old, tried-and-tested tennis shoes. By the time she was dressed, her heart rate had slowed and the world began to feel real again.

I can’t believe I slept in! Lo swore inwardly. She left her bedroom and jogged into the living area, where her school books and papers were strewn about. I’ve had a shit week as it is, I do not need being late for school added onto the pile...

She stuffed the papers into the books and the books into her shoulder bag, promising herself that she’d rearrange it when she got to school. She wiped her brow, already feeling sweaty – the dry heat was nothing new this time of year, but she did hope for a breeze.

Lo was not two steps out past her couch when her foot caught on something and, with a thump, she dropped to the floor.

“Fuck!” she snapped, annoyed more than hurt. As she pushed herself up, she looked over her shoulder at the offending object – her guitar, which had been leaning against the couch. It stared back, blank, emotionless, and yet still begging to be picked up.

She scrambled to her feet, ignoring the throb of her knee. Glaring down at the guitar, she growled, “I’ll deal with you later...” before she turned away.

Lo made sure to dust herself off in the mirror stand beside the front door before she left. She grabbed her headphones – bulky, soundproofed things – and tucked them into her bag. A brush came next, which she rapidly ran through her hair before leaving. There was no time to mess around, and it wasn’t as if she had anything else to do with the blonde mop atop her head – she assured that her hair covered her ears, and nothing more.

A few moments later Lo was stepping out into the fourth-floor hallway of the apartment building she lived in, locking the door behind her.

“Late?” queried a voice.

Lo pulled away from her door and spotted her neighbor’s head, wrapped up in a towel, poking out from the doorway across the hall. He had a newspaper in his hand, and was likely planning to retreat with it as soon as possible.

“Yeah,” Lo breathed. “Sorry if I disturbed you, Mr. Tyler.”

“It’s no problem,” Mr. Tyler said. He smiled, and offered with a wave of his hand, “Get going, and have a good day!”

Lo threw him a wave over her shoulder, clinging to her bag as she jogged down the hallway towards the elevator... which she realized might take too long to come up. Impatient, Lo headed for the stairwell instead – she was already hot, annoyed, and running late; four flights of stairs felt like nothing in comparison.

Still, she skipped as many as she could; even jumping the rails where it felt safe. Soon enough, she was in the lobby and out the door.

Immediately she was hit with a wall of heat and sound. Lo scrambled for her headphones, putting them over her ears – it drowned out most of the civilian chatter, but not quite enough. Stubbornly, she kept them on. It was better than nothing as she strode down the sidewalk towards school.

Despite the aggravation, Lo was proud of herself – though she had woken up late, she had managed to get out and on her way just in time. She’d skate into school before the five-minute bell, barring anything unforeseen or unusual happening on her way. She could breathe, for a moment.

Lo pulled out her phone, swiping through news alerts as she walked. Globally, it seemed like everything was a mess – it always did, and it was always depressing. She steered away from that. Southern California didn't lack for anything happening, but Lo never found celebrity hijinks all too interesting. She was more interested in events closer to home, in the city of Amlen.

There wasn’t too much, thankfully. The biggest piece of news was that the local post-secondary academy, Black Moon, was holding a job fair this coming weekend. The academy was a strange one, and the only reason Amlen existed at all, by Lo’s estimate. The unique way it operated had caught the attention of schools as high up as Harvard, though those Ivy League institutions had turned up their nose at what innovations Black Moon offered to higher education.

Despite that, Black Moon had put a lot of money into Amlen, turning it from a glorified desert pit-stop to a small, bustling metropolis. It didn’t rival larger neighboring cities like Palm Springs or Irvine, but it was well on its way, and encouraged independent companies that might not have a chance in such places amid titans of industry that would otherwise swallow them up. There were several businesses unique to Amlen whose owners had graduated from Black Moon Academy.

Lo scrolled past the Black Moon news. There were some other reports, like how the city was preparing for its yearly Pride fest in June, or how a few Black Moon Academy graduates had begun a new tech startup; but there was nothing concerning.

As she turned a corner, Lo was beginning to put away her phone – normally no issue, but as she moved to put the device into the pocket of her shorts, her elbow caught on a bystander walking past. Lo spun with the momentum, not falling herself but dropping her phone to the pavement with a clatter and sending a spike of anxiety up her spine.

She immediately knelt to pick her phone up again before someone stepped on it. As she rose, Lo inspected the device frantically, only to sigh with relief as she found nothing outwardly wrong – it flicked off and on without issue.

Don’t know what I’d do if I had to get a new phone right now... Her worry lifting, Lo looked now to the person that had indirectly caused the situation.

They were a man, at first glance – tall, with pale skin, and thin to the bone, with dark clothes hanging off of his frame. His hair was a black so deep that Lo could only assume it was dyed, and assumptions about the man’s fashion sense continued as they locked eyes. His gaze was a deep red, with slitted pupils like a cat’s.

Whoa, neat contacts, she thought. Maybe he’s a cosplayer? Is there a con around here I missed?

There was a frenetic air about the stranger, one that fizzled at Lo’s skin as if she had put her palm over a freshly-opened soft drink. The man was speaking to her, she realized. Lo shook herself and shifted her headphones off of her ears to hear what he was saying:

“...hear me? I said I was sorry!”

“Yeah, I got it,” Lo replied. She tapped her headphones. “Sorry, couldn’t make out what you were saying.”

He looked relieved, his shoulders falling. “Is your phone all right?” the man asked.

Lo nodded. She held up her phone for the man to look at, flipping it over to show both sides. “It’s good. No worries.”

The black-haired man sighed. Lo tilted her head – though everything seemed all right, now, the frenetic, nervous energy was still present. She felt it tickle her ears, which she realized had captured the man’s attention while they weren’t talking. Moving her headphones had shifted her hair, and Lo felt a prickle of discomfort as she wished for a swift end to this situation.

I don’t have time for this, she told herself. Lo put her phone back into her pocket and told the man, “I’ve gotta go, now.”

The man started at the sound of her voice, as if he’d been distracted. “Ah-! Yes, of c-course. Go on then.”

Lo didn’t need much more than that. She gave the thin man one last glance before putting her headphones back on and continuing on her way. The school wasn’t far, but the distraction had eaten up valuable time, and Lo could feel the man’s eyes on her as she walked. That prickle of discomfort became something larger, an instinctive paranoia that haunted anyone who thought they were being watched too intently.

She broke into a jog, hoping to put as much distance between the two of them as possible.

———————————————————

When Lo had been in elementary school, she recalled a big push for renovations in the high school – it had taken several years of discussion and a sizeable donation from Black Moon to make it possible. As a result, Amlen City High School was a fairly modular, newer-looking building, with two stories and decently large campus located in the heart of the city proper.

The five-minute bell was ringing just as Lo pushed open the heavy steel entry doors. She slipped easily through a pair of metal detectors and another set of steel doors before she emerged into the building.

Amlen High didn’t take a rocket scientist to navigate – the ground floor was dedicated to faculty rooms, cafeteria, gym, and classes for the freshmen and sophomores, while the smaller second floor was devoted to the juniors and seniors and their classrooms. Some classes had overlap, but the general separation of age brackets seemed to work out well to keep things organized in terms of foot traffic.

Lo made a beeline for the stairs, taking them two or three at a time to make it to her floor, dodging around other students who were in a similar boat she was – almost late for class. Lo kept her distance from them, feeling the air growing heavy whenever she drew too close to a tight-knit group of friends.

She made it to her locker and quickly rushed to gather her things for her first hour of class, which was computer science. A favorite subject that Lo was not keen to be late for, and thankfully there wasn’t much paper homework. She found her school-assigned flash drive, grabbed her course book, and shut her locker with her hip. The mess caused by thrusting her papers and books inside could be dealt with throughout the day.

Lo half-jogged to her class, conscious of the faculty eyes on her. This close to the first class, it was understandable that kids might rush; but not running the halls was still a rule, and Lo did not want to be made late by trying too hard to make it on time.

She made it to the second-floor computer room, sliding into her designated seat with a moment to spare as the bell rang almost the instant she set her books down beside her machine. Lo breathed out a sigh of relief she hadn’t known she’d been holding in, nearly slamming her forehead into her desk.

Almost instantly, there was a tap on her shoulder.

Lo looked behind her, and saw the class’s teacher, Mrs. Burhan, looking down at her. She was a short woman, with dark skin and a round face made even rounder by the hijab wrapped elegantly around her head. The hijab Mrs. Burhan wore were always of different patterns – this one was of a hundred different songbirds, all perched on individual branches. Lo found it particularly cute, though the scarf didn’t match Mrs. Burhan’s expression of annoyance.

Mrs. Burhan tapped at ears hidden by her hijab, and Lo knew instantly what she was being singled out for. Sheepishly, Lo removed her headphones, muttering, “Sorry,” before turning back to her computer.

There was a derisive snort from beside her, and Lo resisted the urge to snap at her classmate. Amlen High School may have had no problem with Lo using the soundproofed headphones, but that didn’t mean her peers understood their purpose. Lo put it out of her mind as she booted up her computer, feeling a slight stab of pain at her temple that intensified as the morning announcements kicked on:

“Good morning, Amlen High School!” the cheery voice of the Student Body President crackled through the loudspeaker. “It’s shaping up to be a warm one; sunny, with a high of 79 degrees – if you’re in need of some sunscreen, don’t hesitate to drop by the nurse’s office!”

God, shut up, Lo thought.

“The lunch special today is lasagna, get it before it’s gone!” the tinny voice went on. “Student safety is more important than ever – if you leave campus during lunch hour, please take great care during lunch rush traffic, and be sure to be back on time!

“The Chemistry Club will be meeting in the gymnasium today. There are still a few slots open for membership, and any interested students are encouraged to apply!”

Get on with it! Lo’s head pulsed again – she felt a buzzing deep in her ears, and guessed she wasn’t the only one growing tired of the constant announcement barrage. Students were shifting in their seats, tapping at their keyboards with anticipation. Mrs. Burhan waited by the whiteboard, twisting the cap of her dry-erase marker between her fingers with a restrained sort of patience that came from (probably) over ten years of this same routine.

“Transportation will be provided for Black Moon Academy’s job fair this weekend – junior and senior students at or above the age of 16 are welcome to meet at the front of the school. Busses will be leaving at 2pm Saturday. Don’t miss this opportunity to get to know local businesses!

“Finally, will Hikaru Reinhardt and Haseo Yagami please report to the guidance counselor’s office?” the voice asked. “That will be all – have a great day, everyone!”

As the speakers clicked off, the lights in the room flickered.

“Stupid lights,” commented one student, near to Lo. “You’d think they’d be fixed by now.”

“They’ve been funky all week,” complained another.

Mrs. Burhan took little notice – she uncapped her marker and called, her voice sharp and authoritative: “Alright everyone, time to focus! Log in if you’re not already. Today we’ll be focusing on the versatility of Excel spreadsheets...”

Lo had finished her computer science assignment with nearly half the hour to spare, putting her headphones back on in order to drown out the noise of clacking keyboards and the rumble of students. Though the computer room was almost always quiet, there was a latent hum that filled the air today, one that grated at Lo’s nerves.

Are these things even working? She wondered. In answer, the muffled sound of the bell signaled the end of the first hour. Lo left the computer room confused, wondering how she had managed to hear anything through the headphones if the bell ringing barely registered.

It grew even worse as she stepped out into the hallway. Her head pulsed as the chatter of near half a hundred students seemed to fill her ears, despite the headphones – wasn’t their purpose to stop such a noisy barrage? Lo kept them on despite her frustration as she went to her locker.

She went to chemistry next, trying to push aside her headache. Even in the silence of the classroom, however, Lo felt the constant hum of noise deep in her ears. The lights flickered three times during that class, and Lo’s headache grew more oppressive – it was difficult for her to focus on the work, or what her teacher was even saying.

When the bell signaled the end of the hour, Lo thought enough was enough – she made her way downstairs, to the nurse’s office. The nurse offered Lo a small amount ibuprofen and a note for her math teacher about why she was late, both of which Lo took; but as she emerged from the nurse’s office into an empty hallway, her mouth feeling dry from the pill, she didn’t feel any better.

The ibuprofen should have kicked in by the time Lo hoofed it back upstairs, grabbed her things from her locker, and headed for her math class; but it didn’t seem to be working. At this point, Lo wondered just how much of the headache was caused by her own growing annoyance.

As she entered the math class, the lights above flickered.

The math classroom was arranged in such a way that it made Lo the center of attention as she walked across the room to the teacher’s desk. As she delivered her note, she was painfully aware of the eyes of her classmates, and out of the corner of her eye she swore she saw a few of them snickering at her. The room was quiet – the assignment was already up on the board – but the air seemed thick with commotion, buzzing from a conversation that Lo could not hear but was sure was directed at her.

Why do they care at all what I do? She thought, trying not to look at them.

“You’re good to take your seat, Ms. Ishida,” the math teacher said. She was a round woman, with short-cropped brown hair and kind, dark eyes. She tucked the nurse’s note into her desk. “And, if you wouldn’t mind...”

Lo frowned. “What is it?” she wondered.

The teacher gestured to the back of the room, where Lo’s assigned seat was. Lo narrowed her eyes – it took her a moment to realize that there were two new students sitting on either side of her.

“Who’re they?” Lo wondered, quietly.

“They are Hikaru Reinhardt and Haseo Yagami,” the teacher murmured back. “Their classes moved to this hour for the rest of the year. Be nice, okay?”

Lo grimaced, and responded with only a shrug. She certainly would be nice to them, if they’d earned it – but saying such a thing aloud would only earn her a reprimand, and thus more attention from the other students. Her teacher sighed, and then turned back to her computer.

Lo headed for her seat, trying to ignore the way the buzzing air seemed to burrow deeper into her ears. Silence reigned in the room as Lo sat down, aside from some students leaning over to others to ask for help. Lo pulled out her book and opened it to the page assigned on the whiteboard.

Immediately, there was a creak to her right. Out of the corner of her eye, Lo could see the girl, Hikaru, leaning over to speak.

“Hi, I’m Hikaru,” she said, quietly.

“I know,” Lo answered. It seemed like they were working on rational functions again. She was thankful nothing new had been taught today, or else she’d be playing catchup for half the hour.

To her left, it was Haseo’s turn. The boy shifted in his desk and asked, his voice soft and quiet, “Would you like to work on the assignment together?”

Lo glanced at him. Haseo was an older boy, and from the look of his face it seemed like he was very much a night owl. He wore frayed jeans and a t-shirt depicting characters from a video game that Lo couldn’t really make out without making things feel awkward. His short, messy hair was white, oddly, and, even more oddly, his eyes were a round, bright yellow that seemed to draw Lo’s gaze no matter where else she tried to look.

She forced herself to look at Hikaru. The girl was looking at her with encouraging dark blue eyes, her round face framed by shoulder-length blonde hair that was black at the roots. She wore a plain white spaghetti-strap tanktop beneath a thin sweater, with a dark purple-and-black plaid skirt. Her ears were pierced with tiny purple gemstone earrings and a teardrop-shaped amethyst around her neck completed the look.

Between the two of them, Lo felt trapped. The question posed by Haseo seemed to be one they both wanted an answer to, and their expectant gazes made Lo fidget uncomfortably. Inwardly she cursed the math teacher – did she have to seat the three of them like this?

The lights flickered, and Lo felt another stab of pain in her head.

“Not really.” Lo hadn’t meant to sound so snappish, but it came out that way. Part of her felt a bit of joy as Hikaru and Haseo leaned back into their respective seats and turned their eyes to their own business, but...

… another part of her felt... sad.