Chapter 11.

I am suspended, like a mere speck of dust in the vastness of a black and devouring vortex, a place where the notion of up and down has lost all meaning. I try to find a foothold, something to cling to in this realm of darkness. But nothing. There is only emptiness, a void that seems eager to swallow up the last vestige of my being.

Where am I? How did I get here? I search the fog of my mind for some clue, some landmark to help me remember, but my thoughts are like ashes scattered by a cosmic wind; unattainable, lost in the vastness of this universe.

Suddenly, something disturbs the sea of nothingness, a change so subtle that if not for my lack of distractions, it would have gone unnoticed. My body, if I still have one, pivots with a primitive instinct towards that unknown something that moves in the shadows of the shadow.

But I still cannot see anything. The darkness is complete, devilishly dense. Nevertheless, that something... that presence is there. I feel it as one feels the weight of a scrutinizing gaze on the skin. A massive presence stealthily gliding through the darkness. Something immense, something unnatural. I can sense its colossal mass moving, encircling me.

Before I can react, tentacles emerge from the darkness and envelop me completely. They are soft and moist, like living flesh. They twine around my arms and legs, immobilizing me completely.

Fight... yes, that’s what I do, even if only instinctively, like the fly that buzzes in the spiderweb, knowing that its end is imminent. But the creature grips me with a force impossible to resist, dragging me deeper and deeper into its smothering embrace. The tentacles crawl over my body and coil around my neck, squeezing, crushing my trachea without mercy.

I kick desperately, scratch at the tentacles, scream silently for lack of air. But there is no one to hear me in this void. My vision blurs, my lungs burn with agony, I feel I am going to die suffocated... And then I wake up.

The blinking in the white light is blinding. My eyes instinctively shut to protect themselves. Slowly, I open them again, letting them acclimate little by little. The ceiling above me is white and immaculate, with embedded fluorescent lights emitting that dazzling brightness.

I feel that I am lying on something soft. As I move my hand, I feel the rough hospital sheets under my fingers. I turn my head and see that it is a stretcher, with metal bars on the sides. I am in an unfamiliar room, impersonal and cold, with that characteristic disinfectant smell saturating the atmosphere.

By my side, I see various medical monitors, with flashing lights and electronic beeps that resonate in the stillness. They show my vital signs, the steady rhythm of my heart, blood pressure... Numbers and curves traced on a screen.

I try to remember how I got here, but my mind is confused and sleepy. The last thing I recall is going to sleep after a particularly boring school day. Then... nothing. A complete void.

Did I faint? Did I have some kind of accident? I can’t make sense of it. Maybe I’m still asleep and this is just a strange dream. A nightmare. Yes, that must be it. A horrible and vivid nightmare. Nothing more.

Wait a minute. A nightmare? That doesn’t make sense. I don’t have nightmares, I never have. I don’t know what it’s like to wake up startled, with a racing heart and a sweaty forehead after experiencing a bad dream. That happens to normal people, to those who can feel fear. I’m incapable of that.

So no, this can’t be a nightmare. Because my subconscious doesn’t generate anything. Not good, not bad. It just acts according to my primary needs and then shuts down, waiting for new logical orders. There’s nothing beyond that.

What is this, then?

But now, for the first time in my life, I feel something genuine bubbling up from within me. A visceral sensation I had not experienced before. It’s as if my chest contracts into a fist, as if air can’t reach my lungs.

I notice the accelerated beats of my own heart pounding in my ears. It’s a strange, unfamiliar sound. Blood pumping quickly, arterial, out of control. A cold sweat pearls my forehead and my hands shake slightly.

I am... scared. Genuinely scared, seized by an irrational fear that makes its way through my guts like a deadly virus. It’s a horrible, paralyzing feeling. I want to run away, leave behind whatever it is that’s causing this.

But I can’t move. I’m paralyzed, staring blankly at the whiteness of the ceiling while this anxiety grows in my chest like the tide. I notice that I am short of breath, that I am choking. It’s unbearable. I would do anything to stop this avalanche of panic.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

I need to calm down and think, to understand what’s real and what’s not. I breathe deeply, trying to control the frantic beats of my heart. Slowly, the choking sensation subsides, the sweat dries on my skin. I manage to regain some control over myself.

How did I get here?

I force my fogged mind through the remnants of the terrible nightmare, trying to remember. Images emerge slowly through the haze of my confusion. The class with Ryota... the attack on the academy... the unleashed chaos... and that strange man. Memories come flooding back, and it all makes sense.

I must have been knocked unconscious during the fight with Kazuki and was brought here. But how much time has passed since then? And where is Ryota, did he survive the encounter with that strange and powerful man?

My thoughts are interrupted when a young nurse enters the room. Seeing me conscious, she lets out a cry of surprise and the folders she was carrying scatter across the floor.

“He’s awake!” she yells.

Before I can fully clear my thoughts, the door bursts open. The imposing figure of a hero, wrapped in a red blanket and with a scarf covering his neck and the lower half of his face, rushes in.

His tired but piercing eyes lock on me.

“Don’t move,” he orders in a hoarse voice.

He quickly approaches and holds me by the shoulders, preventing me from getting up. His intimidating gaze pierces me as he searches me for something.

“Your name is Makoto, right? You’re a second-year student at the academy,” he states more than asks. “Tell me what happened. How did you end up unconscious? What did you see?”

I swallow hard, feeling like a rabbit before a snake about to swallow it. I have no choice but to speak, or at least, to tell part of the truth.

“I... didn’t escape when the alarms sounded,” I begin to explain. “I stayed with Ryota-sensei to see what was going on. Then that guy appeared... Kazuki.”

The hero’s eyes narrow when he hears that name.

“Kazuki? Are you absolutely sure it was him?” he asks with a dangerously soft voice.

I nod.

“Yes, Ryota-sensei called him that. He said they were classmates at the academy...”

The hero curses under his breath. He seems extremely worried about this Kazuki, whoever he really is.

He shakes me roughly by the shoulders and forces me to look him in the eyes.

“Listen carefully, this is important,” he says gravely. “Did Kazuki try to do anything to you? Did he touch you, make you drink or eat something strange?”

His question takes me by surprise. Of course, Kazuki did things to me, subjected me to all kinds of humiliations while I lay helpless and gave me his blood to drink. But I’m not sure if I should tell him. I’m not even clear about what exactly he did to me.

So I decide to put on my best mask of confusion, tensing my facial muscles into an innocent expression. But this time it’s extremely difficult to keep the mask in place. The muscles of my face resist my commands, and I have to concentrate to the utmost on each contraction.

The hero studies me in prolonged silence, his eyes scrutinizing mine as if trying to see through them. I swallow hard. Will he suspect that I’m lying to him? Will he sense my secret?

“No... he just beat me up until I was unconscious,” I lie. “That’s all I remember.”

Finally, he lets me go and stands up with a stern expression.

“Fine, you’ll have more tests done soon,” he says dryly.

I can sense the disappointment in his voice. He knows I’m hiding something, but he can’t prove it. And I will never confirm it. My facade of innocence must remain intact in front of everyone, at least until I regain my strength and understand what is happening to me.

Then he adds, as if out of obligation:

“We’ll see you soon.”

Without waiting for a response, he heads for the door. But before leaving, he stops for a moment and looks over his shoulder at me.

“Don’t be alone with Kazuki again if you see him. Remember, villains always lie.”

And with that ominous warning, he leaves, leaving me stunned and full of more questions than answers.

***

As I lie in that hospital bed, with the hero’s warning still echoing in my mind, a suspicion starts to form inside me.

Why was he so worried? How did he know that Kazuki represented such a great danger to me, even without me telling him all the details?

His reaction was too visceral, too excessive for mere heroic solidarity. I saw a flash of real fear in his eyes when he heard that name, though he tried to disguise it behind a mask of coldness.

No, there must be something more. Some kind of story between the two that precedes all this.

I can’t think any more about it, as the door opens. Tsuneo enters, and upon seeing me, his eyes fill with tears and he throws himself at me.

“Makoto!” he sobs. “I was so worried! How do you feel?”

His emotional reaction is uncomfortable for me, no... annoying? Not like before, this time I can’t help but tense with repulsion. His closeness is repugnant, intolerable. I have to bite my tongue to not push him away violently.

Since when do I have such a hard time controlling myself? Something is changing in me, making me more irritable, angry. What the hell is wrong with me? I never had to put so much effort into playing a role before.

Pretending emotions was always easy for me, natural. Now it’s as if I had to fight against other wills within me. And what’s worse, each time it becomes more difficult to keep them at bay.

“Tsuneo... I’m fine, calm down,” I say in a neutral voice. “Just a little confused, but I’ll recover.”

Tsuneo continues to cry on my chest for a few moments until he manages to calm down and pulls away, wiping away tears.

“I’m sorry, I was very scared when I found out what happened with that crazy villain,” he says with a hiccup. “Thank goodness the teachers arrived in time. If I had lost you...”

He lowers his gaze in sorrow. Clearly, the mere idea is unbearable to him. And once again, it bothers me to see how deeply my well-being seems to affect him.

“Don’t worry, it’s all over,” I tell him, trying to sound reassuring. “But tell me, how did you find out about my encounter with Kazuki?”

Tsuneo then tells me that the principal informed him this morning, asking him to be discreet. The news will soon spread throughout the academy, but for now only the higher-ups know the details of the “unfortunate incident,” as he called it.

I listen in silence, nodding at the appropriate moments while I analyze the situation. So, when he finishes his story, I sketch a faint smile, just the right amount to denote vulnerability, and rest my hand on his.

“Thank you for being here, Tsuneo. It means a lot to me. You’re a great friend.”