It took three hours before Kuroi discovered the limits of his patience.

The school items atop his desk were collected and slipped back into his school bag with quick but methodical efficiency. Texts were laid atop one another and arranged by size, the largest at the back and the smallest to the front. Writing tools were returned inside of an old grey pencil case and then tucked away. His hands passed over a small compartment and felt the rounded edges of his cell phone through the thick cloth, right where he had left it before his morning homeroom started.

Satisfied that everything was in proper order, Kuroi clipped the polished metal latches together and set the bag down atop his desk with a quiet, tired sigh. He took a moment to appreciate the light breeze fluttering through the light grey curtains of the classroom.

The wind felt blessedly gentle in the evening sun. Kuroi breathed in a lungful of the cold autumn air then straightened his shoulders and stood. His chair scraped against the varnished floor, echoing throughout the room with a shrill, ear-grating racket that was only made louder by the silence it left in its wake.

Pale red eyes looked out the window, over the neat hedges lining the school's entrance walkway. The after-school clubs finished their meetings half an hour ago, leaving the grounds barren without the usual herding students to pollute its spaces. Few chose to remain on campus this late. Fewer still chose to do so on a Friday when there was a weekend of relaxation ahead of them. Most left as quick as they could, fleeing from the mundane banality of public schooling and into the sprawling, tinted city beyond the campus walls like birds scattering away from the jowls of a hungry cat. Lucky them.

He glanced to the front of his classroom—at a ticking clock perched over the chalk-stained blackboard. 6:00 PM. If they delayed any further, there wouldn't be enough time to pass by the grocer. He clicked his tongue and turned to the desk next to his own—the sole reason why he had been stuck in an empty classroom for far longer than necessary.

A girl sat asleep on that very desk, her arms crossed over its varnished surface, head tucked in, and content to test what little remained of his patience. She looked peaceful. Almost like a doll. With a petite frame, long golden hair pulled into a simple, practical braid, and sharp features that lent her an air of casual grace even slumbering as she was. It was a sort of presence that garnered her a fair number of admirers from afar…albeit it was an impression that wouldn't last long on anyone who spent so much as a minute in conversation with the person in question.

Heaven knows he could never imagine her acting dignified, and he had known her for almost all his life.

"C'mon. Get up." Kuroi placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her. Not too hard but enough that she began to stir while mumbling indiscernible protests. "If we stay any longer, my gremlin of a little sister is going to go hungry, and if she starts whining at me, I'm perfectly willing to feed you to her. You know I'm not above it so get up." He brushed away the hair from her pale face. "Rise and shine, Rin. You lazy bum."

"Hmm…?" Rin rose, pushing away from the desk with a reluctant groan.

She yawned and stretched, lithe arms extending overhead and almost slapping him with the back of her hand. He leaned away from the unintended attack, not even bothering to feign annoyance because this wasn't the first time that he'd been on wake-up duty nor would it likely be the last. Despite his best efforts, Rin remained the single laziest lifeform on the planet.

He cleared his throat to catch her attention. Rin blinked, realized she wasn't alone, and turned to regard him.

"Oh, Ku-chan. What time is it?" Rin asked as she flashed him a sleepy grin, warm amber eyes the shade of honey twinkling in bemusement. "I told you to wake me up when class ended."

Kuroi shouldered his book bag. "You wouldn't budge no matter how many times I called you and I didn't think dropkicking you awake would be acceptable in a public setting."

"Implying you totally would dropkick me awake if it was in private." She sighed. "Alas, chivalry really is dead."

"Shame you missed the funeral. Though you likely would have slept through that as well."

Rin covered her ears and released a garbled wail filled with the cumulative anguish of innumerable sermons from ages past. Like someone had taken all the outrage of a thousand rebellious teenagers and crammed them into a single desperate plea against the unfairness of the universe. A part of Kuroi was impressed. Out of all the childish tantrums he'd endured throughout the years he'd been friends with Rin, this one was a respectable contender for a spot in the top 10.

"I'm not in the mood for another one of your passive-aggressive lectures!" she cried. "Jeez, lay off and don't sweat the small stuff, Ku-chan. Keep on aggravating your blood pressure and your hair's going to turn whiter than it already is."

"And whose fault would that be?" Kuroi muttered, running a self-conscious hand through his pale scalp. "Whenever you upset another teacher, I end up taking the blame for letting you do whatever you want."

He had stories. So many stories of Rin terrorizing faculty members--of when they were fourth graders and Rin somehow lit an entire set of glass beakers on fire during one of their laboratory sessions. In sixth grade, when she started a pseudo-junior yakuza ring after she began peddling trading cards on campus. That time in middle school when she got them both lost during a field trip and they wound up gallivanting around a different prefecture from the rest of their class.

In truth, Kuroi would've been impressed with the sheer amount of trouble she slid into without trying. If only he wasn't so often dragged into the inevitable fallout of her questionable life choices.

"Would it kill you to just show a little restraint?" He almost begged. "For my sake if not for poor Mr. Takeda's sanity?"

"Mr. Takeda adores me!"

Kuroi raised an eyebrow. "He threw chalk at you during roll call, Rin. Just…pitched a dozen pieces of chalk. Right at your head. While you looked out a window and slept with your eyes open."

"It was special chalk. Very adoring. Trust me."

Kuroi closed his eyes and emitted a long-suffering gurgle in the back of his throat. Like he was caught between screaming or laughing and his voice couldn't decide between either option so it just tried to do both at the same time. That was when he decided that it was best to just let it go. His mood was already on a knife's edge after waiting three hours with nothing but his textbooks to occupy his attention. There was no reason he had to prod Rin into raising his blood pressure on top of everything else.

"Let's...just go home already." He glanced back at the clock. 6:05. They really had to get moving. Kuroi sighed at another unsuccessful lecture and made his way to the door.

Rin laughed at his defeated slump. She stood up, grabbed her book bag, and trailed after him, bumping her fist against his shoulder as she fell into step.

"Don't pout, Ku-chan." Rin grinned. "Our teachers might want to throttle the both of us but at least we have each other."

Kuroi shook his head and hid the tiny smile curling his lips.

"Your optimism is both admirable and utterly shameless."

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

***

For as much as Kuroi wished the train station was closer to his campus, he couldn't deny there were some perks to walking Shikami city's streets.

Rays from the setting sun cascaded onto the city harbor's waters, shining a reflected veil that bathed much of the coastal roads in a fiery glow. Autumn leaves, carried by the cold and salted sea winds, billowed along like shards of sunlight as Kuroi and Rin strolled through the crowded twilit sidewalks. More than once, elbows bumped together, and though there was enough room for a little more distance despite the throngs of pedestrians alongside them, neither of them wanted to move away from what was familiar.

They passed through the heart of the metropolis, speaking of mundanities as they went from one block to the next. Dinner, gossip, TV shows—a dozen topics came and went by so fast that Kuroi forgot about them almost as soon as his attention was diverted to another matter. Though Rin never showed much of a vested interest in anything outside of her select hobbies, she also somehow never ran out of little curiosities to regale him with. Which wasn't a bad thing. Kuroi, for his part, didn't mind listening.

He liked the routine. Mindless but steady. There was comfort in walking through the set path—letting Rin complain about the price of a decent sketchbook, taking a detour through a market for their dinner's necessities, and arguing over whose turn it was to buy the ice cream from the convenience store. So, for a while, he didn't think of anything beyond those little moments. Kuroi let his feet carry him through acquainted walkways, crowded metro stations, and sunset-tinted buildings.

By the time they neared home, what little light lingered when they departed from the campus had died out. Night fell over Shikami and it brought with it the frigid cloak of the coming winter. Caught in the biting cold, the two of them dipped into a shortcut through a public park to hasten their walk home, Kuroi's book bag clattering against a sack of procured groceries as they passed through a lamp-lit pathway.

The crowded noisy streets grew ever more distant with every step. First a racket, then softening into a whisper as they strolled deeper into the grounds. It didn't take long until the only thing he could hear apart from his and Rin's shoes were the chirps of the crickets hidden in the dark underbrush. Kuroi slowed his pace to admire the quiet—to soak in the way the lamplights flickered against the shadows and cast a hazy veil upon the grass and trees.

There was nothing wrong. Nothing out of the ordinary. It was a normal night. Nothing unusual.

The park was a welcome reprieve from the racket of Shikami. Kuroi always enjoyed this route home, run down as it was. Old and neglected, it rarely had any visitors aside from a few late joggers or stragglers like them passing through its dirt-littered walkways. Even now, Kuroi couldn't see a single soul amidst the dozens of lit pathways. No silhouettes. No idle chatter. Just Rin humming beside him as they walked the road home.

He should just move on quickly. No sense in taking his time. Go away. Don't look back. Just leave. He needed to leave.

Kuroi placed one foot in front of the other, forcing his legs forward, and Rin matched his stride. She chattered on but Kuroi didn't hear her. Couldn't hear her. Like his attention was focused on something else. Something that pricked against the corners of his thoughts. He felt a strange presence—like he was being pulled along.

Leave. Leave. Leave.

"Ku-chan?" Rin asked, concerned when he stopped in place.

LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEA-

Something cracked.

Kuroi felt the world spin. Up and down, left and right, inside and outside -- directions melded together as if he had been tossed into a blender. He grasped his head with a pained hiss, falling to his knees as the inside of his skull throbbed with a furious searing pain. The plastic bag of groceries slipped from his frozen fingers and splattered onto the ground. Colors and sounds flooded his senses all at once like his vision had been sprayed with a thousand splotches of paint and Kuroi didn't know why. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. His eyes hurt. His chest burned. His eardrums felt like they were going to burst.

Rin was kneeling next to him now. Calling his name in a panicked frenzy as he gasped for air. Kuroi dug his fingers into the dirt, white-knuckled fists clenching around moss and stones so hard it was a wonder he didn't cut his hand. He breathed, forcing air in and out of his lungs in a measured rhythm until the pain dulled into a weak throb. Kuroi looked up and Rin was right there, amber eyes brimming with worry and one slender hand on his shoulder.

"Ku-chan, what happened?! Are you okay?!"

"I...I don't know," Kuroi muttered, blinking away the remnants of the pain. "I just…got dizzy all of a sudden. It's gone now...I...I think."

"Okay, Ku-chan," Rin said, her voice a soothing comfort to the dull ache in his skull. "But you need to breathe, okay? I thought you were about to set the park on fire for a moment there."

Set the park on fire...?

Kuroi glanced down at his other hand, wincing as he opened his balled-up fist and found nothing but ash and a handful of crackling burnt earth. Lingering embers were carried away by a passing wind, snapping into the air and fleeing into the dark like fireflies.

"Shit."

Dread settled into his stomach, anchoring itself onto his insides and twisting his guts into knots. If he had lost control...if he had slipped...they were close to Shikami's downtown area. The fire could have incinerated an entire block within minutes. How many people would have died if he had-

Kuroi stopped and clamped down on the thoughts. No. Thinking about it would only make it worse. Rin was right. He needed to breathe. Just breathe. He grimaced, brushing his soot-stained fingers against his palm as he closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. Kuroi counted his breaths. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Slow. Steady. In. Out.

He focused on the rhythm--on the soothing weight of Rin's hand on his shoulder and her own steady breaths. In. Out. In and out. One. Two. One. Two. Kuroi counted until the tight knot in his chest loosened and his erratic heartbeat slowed into a familiar lull.

And when he opened his eyes, Rin was still there--concern apparent in the thin line of her frowning lips.

"You okay, Ku-chan?" Rin's amber eyes searched his face. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, Rin. Thanks," Kuroi said. He rubbed his temples, massaging away the lingering pain.

Kuroi reached for the bag of groceries, threading his shaking fingers through the handles and picking it up. He stood on shakey legs and Rin rose with him, her slender fingers steadying him with a firm grip on his shoulder. She was a pillar of stability in his life, and Kuroi made sure to mutter his thanks as she let go.

"I...something was in my head...it was...it was weird...I..." Kuroi trailed off, unsure of how to put his muddled thoughts into words.

Rin frowned.

"Like a headache?"

"No...not exactly. It's hard to describe. I...wait..."

Kuroi shook his head and surveyed their surroundings, eyeing the line of trees surrounding the park pathway. He...didn't recognize this path. Kuroi scanned the lampposts, the darkened underbrush, the wooden benches scattered across the dirt road--none of it was familiar. He...hadn't they passed through this park hundreds of times before? Why didn't he recognize any of it?

"Ku-chan...?" Rin prodded, bemused at his befuddled expression. "What is it?"

Kuroi hesitated, turning to face her.

"Where are we?"

"What do you mean where are we?" Rin blinked. "We're in the old park."

Kuroi glanced around again--trying and failing to find any semblance of familiarity in the shadowed walkways.

"Rin...this...do you recognize this pathway?"

"Huh? Sure, I do. We walk it practically every day. Look, the exit should just be down...that...way..." Rin trailed off, following Kuroi's gaze towards the park's exit. Or at least, where they usually took the park's exit.

But there was nothing.

The lamp-lit pathway continued far beyond the treeline, leading to parts of the park that Kuroi had never seen before. New walkways. Darker shadows. Unending clumps of trees and bushes. Places he had never set foot in despite walking through Shikami's old park for as long as he could remember.

Kuroi heard Rin suck in a sharp breath.

"That's...new. That wasn't there last week." Rin narrowed her eyes. "Right?"

Kuroi didn't have an answer.

"Let's...try another path," he muttered, grabbing Rin's wrist and pulling her in the opposite direction. "Let's retrace our steps and..."

He stopped. Kuroi stared. Rin stared alongside him.

A forest met their bewildered gazes, blocking their path with a verdant wall that hadn't been there a second ago. Where before there was a lamplight-lined walkway, there was nothing but a labyrinth of dark trees and the rustling whispers of the cold autumn winds.

"You know," Rin started, staring at the treeline with a nonchalance that Kuroi wished he could emulate. "This reminds me of that horror movie I saw a few weeks ago."

"Rin, now is really not the time for jokes."

"Who says I'm joking?"

"Rin."

She smiled. "Relax, Ku-chan. Getting grouchy and panicky isn't going to help us." Rin cracked a teasing grin. "Besides, I'm here. Nothing bad is gonna happen as long as I'm around. Trust me."

"So, you mean to tell me you know why an entirely new area of the park just suddenly appeared from out of nowhere?"

"Nope," Rin said. "Just as clueless as you."

Kuroi sighed. Rin always had a knack for diffusing tense situations--whether she was trying or not. Kuroi supposed it was her way of easing his nerves. And despite the panic threatening to squeeze the air out of his chest, he couldn't deny that her blithe attitude was doing its job. At least, somewhat.

"C'mon," Rin nudged his shoulder. She turned and began walking down the solitary pathway leading deeper into the unfamiliar beyond. "Let's go figure out where this goes. Not like we can get any more lost."

Kuroi glanced back the way they came--eyeing the darkened treeline blocking their way out with a wary stare--before he moved to follow after Rin.