“Sorry, Harry, but I need to do something,” I apologized to Harry in the wide, open cafeteria, “I might be able to eat with you tomorrow.”

“Huh?” Harry perked up from the view of his bulky laptop, and looked me over, “Where are you going?”

“I just need to look into something,” I replied hastily, “B-but I think I should be done by tomorrow.”

“You’re investigating something?” Harry asked, “Can I help?”

“Uhh,” I averted my gaze, “I don’t know if you would be much help…”

“I wouldn’t be much help?” Harry stood defiantly, “Come on, I helped Neuire Moddes solve a murder case! I bet I could help you in a lot of ways!”

I took a step away, “Really? I don’t know…you might end up not having fun…”

Harry already began picking up his things, as he reassured me, “It’s always fun to help my friends.”

“Harry, really,” I insisted, “you don’t have to.”

“No, I do,” Harry responded, backpack in hand, “we’re friends.”

“Okay, okay fine,” I relented, “you can come, but don’t mess around.”

Harry pumped a fist with a stony face, “Acknowledged!”

Turning around, I let myself sigh, hoping that Harry wouldn’t notice. Harry had a way of getting people irritated, which could throw off my little investigation. I only wanted to ask if her teachers noticed anything weird though, and I would be shocked if Harry could end up ruining that plan. Still, I needed to be a little careful.

“So where are we going?” Harry questioned, “are we searching the crime scene? Checking out a tool shed? Getting evidence to prove the culprit guilty?”

“Huh? What? No,” I turned to Harry, “I just wanted to ask Itra’s teacher something.”

“Oh, okay,” Harry responded, and followed me as I left the cafeteria.

We made our way to Itra’s English classroom. Though we met during English class, we did not attend the same one. Only because our class had a project together, did we get the chance to meet each other.

A smile creeped onto my face, as I recalled the horrified face Itra made, when she saw my writing. That’s when she told me to meet her in the library, and she started telling me what to do and what not to do. At first, I disliked her pushiness, but I came to accept it.

“What’s with that smile?” Harry asked, “What’s funny?”

“H-huh?” I perked up, from staring at the ground, “Oh, uh, it’s nothing.”

“Well, if you say so,” Harry looked around, “where is it we’re heading?”

“We’re going to Mrs. Bright’s room,” I answered, “that’s her English teacher.”

“So we’re going to interrogate her!” Harry exclaimed, “Is she the culprit?”

“There is no culprit,” I responded, “I just want to know if there’s anything bothering Itra.”

“Oh? Anything bothering her?” Harry thought over my words, “Are you saying that you’re worried about this person you’ve been meeting in secret?”

“I-it’s not like that!” I argued, “She’s just been acting really awkward lately.”

“Awkward? Have you tried asking her about it, maybe?” Harry suggested, “Just doing that has a lot of effect.”

“I already did,” I informed him, “she just stormed out and away from me.”

“Well, we’re here,” Harry halted our conversation, “what are you going to ask her teacher?”

“Hush,” I told him, “I’ll do the talking, just stand by here.”

“Alright, good luck,” Harry wished, as I entered the classroom.

The classroom’s light dulled my vision, due to the brightness change from the hallway and into the class. Inside, Mrs. Bright slaved away at her computer, making the noise of the keyboard audible even to the people in the hallway.

“Is there something I can help you with,” Mrs. Bright asked, peering from her rectangular glasses, with her emerald-green earrings dangling from her earlobes, “I don’t believe I have you in my class.”

My legs trembled, as I stared at the wrinkling face of Mrs. Bright looking down at me, with her piercing gaze menacing me to keep in line. Her silver hair shone in the light of the classroom, making it hard to keep my eyes on her without keeping my straining eyes from showing its labor.

“Well, um,” I struggled to get my words out, “I just, er, kind of, uh…”

My question failed to leave my mouth, and I stood there, bumbling away. Unluckily, Mrs. Bright didn’t seem to enjoy watching my blubbering, with her eyes getting even sharper as she observed me. Before she could speak back though, a friend came to my rescue.

“What my friend here is trying to say is,” Harry announced, as he walked in from the hallway, “Have you noticed any strange behaviors with his friend Itra lately?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Harry Ballman,” Mrs. Bright spat, “No, I haven’t seen anything weird, why do you ask?”

In my head, I thanked Harry profusely for his valiant rescue, as I squirmed nervously behind him. He already stepped in front of me, to take on the full blow of Mrs. Bright’s fierce glare. Harry Ballman, am I glad to have a friend in him.

“Illate’s just been worried about her,” Harry explained, “but say, do you have her schedule?”

“Huh? Her schedule?” I questioned, “What do we need that for?”

“To ask her other teachers,” Harry answered, “we’re not just going to stop at one, right?”

Before I could get another word in, Mrs. Bright replied, “I’m afraid I can’t give you that, but I do know that she goes to Ms. Maroon’s class for History.”

“T-thank you,” I stuttered out, “I’ll be going now!”

Then, I proceeded to scurry from the classroom. I did not want to spend any more time there than I already had to. So, our next destination would be Ms. Maroon’s classroom. After a little while, Harry followed me out, trying to get Mrs. Bright to excuse my hastiness.

“Illate, you need to slow down,” Harry stressed, “you could get in trouble for running like that!”

“I-I’m sorry,” I apologized, “but I need to know what’s bothering Itra!”

“Just slow down, man,” Harry tried to calm me down, “you’re acting like me right now.”

“Like you!? No! Impossible! It couldn’t be!” I cried out, as a joke.

“Hey! That hurts!” Harry exclaimed, to go along with my joke, “But seriously, keep your cool, you’ll need it, if you want to figure out what’s wrong with your friend.”

“Oh, right,” I stopped myself at Harry’s surprisingly good advice, “okay, I’ll calm down.”

“That’s good,” Harry commended, “now let’s get moving.”

Ms. Maroon kept her lights off, when students left for lunch. Unlike Mrs. Bright, she worked better in the dark. Blue light from her computer shone onto her face, as she read through something on her screen. We couldn’t get a good look at her face, but we could tell that her skin didn’t have as many wrinkles as Mrs. Bright. Her youth allowed her to connect better with her students, meaning that she might have noticed more about Itra’s troubles.

Harry and I peeked into her room from around the corner. While her room didn’t cause our eyes to strain from the brightness, it still needed us to adjust to it. It also made her a little less approachable, as if we were trespassing into someone else’s home at night.

“Um, excuse me,” I pushed my words out, “Ms. Maroon?”

“Hm?” her head shot up, “Yes? Who’s there?”

“It’s Harry and Ilate,” Harry revealed, “we have questions about Itra.”

“Itra? What about her?” Ms. Maroon asked, “Is there something troubling her?”

“That’s right,” I answered, “she’s been acting a little weird lately, did you notice anything that would suggest why?”

“Hmm,” Ms. Maroon put her hand to her chin, “No, not that I’ve noticed, why?”

“N-nevermind then, miss,” I backed away, “I just wanted to know, I’ll be going now.”

“Okay, bye,” she waved, and we exited her classroom.

Due to the dim light, we never got any good view of her face, but her voice did hint in concern. Now though, we knew nowhere else to go, so I stood in the hall with Harry.

“You sure you didn’t want to ask about her schedule?” Harry asked, “She might have known something about it.”

“No, I doubt Ms. Maroon would keep tabs on her whole schedule…” I responded, “but I have another idea.”

I pulled out an old note that Itra left for me the day before. On it read that she had to see her teacher “Mr. Hue,” for something. Now, he would be our next key for asking about her.

“Mr. Hue?” Harry asked, “Isn’t he the replacement for Mr. Yellow?”

“Huh?” I tilted my head, “Who’s Mr. Yellow?”

“Oh, he was the one that led the group of serial killers last year,” Harry answered, “he was a real menace.”

“W-wow, that sounds scary,” I commented, “well, let’s go meet this Mr. Hue guy.”

Mr. Hue worked in a very colorful classroom. Posters were placed all over the walls, and he even had figurines lined across his shelves. I even noticed one from this one popular animation, a red-head girl that had learned magic from this guy who came from another world. I think her last name had something to do with a silver mouse, or something.

“Oh? Who do we have here? What are your names?” Mr. Hue got up from his computer, “I’m Mr. Hue, what’s your reason for being here?”

I stood at attention, making full eye contact with him, and trying hard to not look at his balding hair, or his messy mustache. His hair signified that he was very sloppy, but he dressed well. Many parts of the way he styled himself contradicted the expectations of each other.

“I’m Harry,” Harry introduced himself, “This is Illate. We’re here to ask if you’ve noticed anything odd with Itra?”

“Oh, Itra, huh? She’s a smart girl,” Mr. Hue answered, “I never had to pay much attention to her, you know, she works very well on her own, and she’s never even come into my office yet, despite my class’s usual rowdiness. So, I’m afraid I haven’t noticed anything.”

“Is that so…” Harry muttered to himself, “Well, do you have her schedule? I’d like to know what other teachers she has.”

“Oh, of course,” Mr. Hue brought out a sheet of paper, “let me write it down for you.”

The teacher hastily scribbled down the schedule for Itra, and passed it over to Harry.

“Thank you very much sir,” Harry told him, and then, “we’ll be on our way now.”

“Thank you,” I echoed, and followed Harry.

“Did you notice anything weird about Mr. Hue?” Harry asked, once we made our way from his classroom.

“No? What do you mean?” I questioned, “What was so weird?”

“You didn’t notice?” Harry recoiled, “Well, if you didn’t, then I guess it was probably nothing.”

“What didn’t I notice? Tell me!” I pressed.

“It’s nothing,” Harry replied, “just focus on getting to her next class, Mr. Blue.”

Mr. Blue’s room had a blue carpet. First, Mrs. Bright’s bright lights, then Mr. Hue’s colorful room. Only Ms. Maroon didn’t have any maroon colored objects, but she did maroon herself in her dark room. Maybe some kind of supreme being was playing jokes on us. Very colorful jokes.

She, along with Mr. Pink, Mr. Green, and even Mr. Unicorne didn’t prove helpful. That only left us with one last option, her advisory teacher. Mr. Pelt used to work as a PE teacher, but moved to History. Itra only went to his class for advisory, but he might have picked up on something about her.

“Itra, huh?” Mr. Pelt stroked his bushy beard, “I’m afraid I don’t know anything about her, heh.”

I watched a bead of sweat crawl down his head, as he averted his gaze. Of all the people, he’s the one that practically screamed out that he knew something. He wouldn’t maintain eye contact for very long, and he kept his responses very vague.

“Look, I’m very busy right now, please, take your leave,” he told us, “lunch is almost over, and my class is about to start.”

“As you wish, sir,” Harry responded, and we both made our way from his room into the hallway.

“Let’s wrap this up for now, Illate,” Harry suggested, “We’ll pick this up tomorrow, I’ll see ya.”

We parted ways, and I left with myself pondering. Itra’s advisory teacher acted very weird, maybe I should look into him tomorrow.

Itra still didn’t show up at the library, with a very similar note. She had to go to another meeting with a teacher, and apologized profusely.

…She also told me to keep up on my work…which I neglected.