9/13 - NewPort island - evening

Neon lights illuminate the city streets, eliminating darkness from this city, save for the alleyways meant for thugs and punks. A sickening sensation rocks my head back and forth as I swim through the crowd of people heading wherever they’re heading to. This headache is getting worse by the second. Being in a crowd this big is nothing but a headache, makes me want to vomit everything from my stomach.

I don’t hate these; I have little reason to. It’s what comes from them ‌I hate. A strange circumstance that I’ve found myself in.

Turning into an alleyway, I adapt to the darkness that reigns over these narrow pathways between buildings. Their voices are still reaching me, but the feeling from them is fading into the back of my brain. Thank God. Any more and I would’ve gone insane.

Music booms around the small space between three buildings. Sounds like it’s some rap song. Not really into that type of music, but I’m privy to music without vocals, so my tastes are limited.

Moving past the corner shows nothing but a few punks on the ground. A Bluetooth speaker blasts the music for the unconscious boys. Some of them appear to be older than me, probably in their late teens. Their physical builds aren’t impressive, but it’s hard to imagine someone was able to beat them by themselves. The logical conclusion would be that another group of people beat them. But in this case, that’s the wrong assessment.

Standing over the men as the winner of this 4v1, his fists curl up. He seems to be the same age as me, given his height is around the same as mine. The air he exudes is unlike anything I’ve felt. There’s a raw, wild, and strong presence; warning me to stay away, to never lay eyes on such a person ever again.

“Wow.”

Did I really just… He tilts his head, showing me a single eye They’re fierce, waiting– No, wanting another fight to happen. Is he hoping that I’ll fight him…? How absurd. Even if I do, I’ll just get needlessly hurt. No thank you.

I keep moving, heading down the path away from the boy. Those eyes… there was something pure about them, not as in good or bad, just truthful. For a brief moment, it was as if I could breathe for the first time in a while. Though, it wasn’t enough to raise any emotion in me, so I guess I just let my guard down.

Whoever that boy is of no concern to me. His name, face, or personality means very little. Everything about everyone is nothing but a lie; a lie I never wanted to see through. I envy him. That purity I felt must keep him ignorant to everything around him… How am I, an ordinary middle-schooler, someone you would find anywhere in the U.S., able to say all this with absolute certainty? Simple: I’ve been cursed with the ability to read people’s words.

9/14 - St. Merlin boarding school - boys' dormitory - morning

Immediately in the morning, the words of the boys screaming from outside awakened me. Their true feelings pour into my brain like liquid against a nerve strand. Ugh, can’t they think for the other people that have to live with them?

I grab my glasses from the nightstand next to my bed. Putting them on increases my vision, giving me a clearer view of the small room I’m taking residence in. This room is big enough for a bed, a desk that’s used for studying and schoolwork, a tv that does nothing but collect dust, and a closet that’s used for keeping my books, clothes, and other personal belonging. Anything more would clutter the room, so keeping it as plain as possible is the best course of action. After all, I don’t know how long I’ll be here, so it’s best not to grow an attachment to this place.

Dragging myself out of bed, I throw the sheets off me. My first course of action is to go to the bathroom and use the shower. While I’m nervous about sharing a bathroom with others, I have to keep proper hygiene, no matter what; who knows what people would say about me if they thought I didn’t take showers?

I grab my towel from my closet, as well as my toothbrush and paste. Walking outside in my loungewear is like I just jumped into a dirty pond reeking of waste. Everyone’s groaning and grumbling about waking up early in the morning and going to school. Though, I find it to be slightly tolerable since there aren't that many people in the dorm, so the amount of emotions cluttering together is only worth a slight headache.

“Looks like Proxy already started some beef with the high schoolers.”

Proxy? I think I heard that name being used before, though; I forgot where.

“Already?”

“Dude, he's been going wild since the summer. I’m surprised he’s carrying that into the first week of school.”

“Same.”

So it’s just another punk? Whatever, it’s not worth my time… I head into the bathroom, getting ready to wash myself off for the day ahead.

St. Merlin boarding schools - middle school building - morning

School, a breeding ground for emotions to swirl, spiraling into a helix that I can feel. Every part of my body wants to scream the moment I entered the building, but I come to control that urge at this point. All I can do is ignore it with the help of music. If I can’t hear their words, then I can’t sense the true meaning behind them. Though, I’ll have to take these off, eventually.

Walking through the scores of people standing around the hall makes it ‌hard to get to class. No one seems to even be in a hurry to get to class; they rather talk to their friends in the hall and get in trouble for it. I never understood the idea, but I’m not going to correct them on how they should spend their time, so it’s none of my business… Must be nice, though.

Suddenly, my body collides with someone while I wasn’t paying attention. Thankfully, I wasn’t the one to get knocked down; it was the other person. But that sounds like I prefer them to get knocked over. Either way, I have to at least help them up.

I tear out my earbuds and look down at the person. It’s a girl wearing oval-rimmed glasses, her long, messy almost covering the upper part of her back with bangs that are nearly up to her lenses. She’s wearing the same uniform as me but it barely stands to uniform regulation.

“Shit,” she curses under her breath.

I put my hand out. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She gets up on her own. “You should watch where you’re going next time.”

Hm? That’s odd. She’s told me that without annoyance or anger behind her words, her tone is neutral, taking on no sense of emotion. Now that I get a good look at her, her eyes have bags under them, but not only that, it’s like she’s seeing through me with that sharp gaze.

“You’re right, I should be more mindful.”

“Cool.” Leaving it off with that, she walks past me. “...Must suck to be miserable all the time.”

What!? I jerk around to see she’s already blending in with the crowd, going deeper and deeper in. My body unconsciously takes a step forward, wanting to give chase, but I reel myself in. There’s no point, none‌. But her words, there was nothing behind it, no amusement nor pleasure in calling me out.

“Who was she?”

Everything about her is weird. Things that would normally raise emotions from a person somehow didn’t occur in that girl. Maybe I’m just exaggerating the situation? I mean, it’s not as if it’s impossible, but it is odd still.

As if to clear my head, the late bell rings, kicking me out of my thoughts. I better get there, or else I might be labeled as a delinquent for it. A quick trip upstairs to the second floor leads me to my first class; history. I brush my hand against the round doorknob to the class. Opening it, everyone is already getting settled. The teacher, an older man who dresses fine, isn’t paying attention to who’s coming in and out of class. Doesn't he realize he’s setting a poor example? Of course, it’s a tad hypocritical of me since I’m not going to tell him. Even so, you’d want to show some professionalism.

I slip in without alarming him of my presence. I place my bag on the seat I’ve gotten used to. The wooden chair cools my back, and the splates give my back a resting spot. However, my rear isn’t all that comfortable with how hard these seats are.

The chatter in the room is riddled with varying emotions, some happy, but most brimming with negativity. It’s not until the teacher coughs loudly into his hand does the chatter dies down, dispersing the cloud of emotions. “I want all of you to settle down. I’m going to be taking attendance. Anyone who doesn’t answer will be ‌absent.”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Like yesterday and all of this week, he goes over the names of my classmates. One by one, each of their answers, sluggish or simply lacking the energy to care. I answer role call, marking myself as an attendant.

As much as it pains me, I still have a public image to keep, so I have to be careful about how I sound. It’d be annoying if I had to go see the guidance counselor for something they can’t understand.

“Proxy?” That name again? “Proxy? Is this a joke name? He hasn’t shown up for days now.”

Right when he’s about to mark as absent, the door swings open. A boy bursts into the room with a bag slung over his head, covering his face.

“Yo, did the late bell ring already?”

“It did, and you are?”

“Can I put my stuff down first?”

Without the teacher’s say-so, he comes to the table I’m sitting at and throws his stuff on the other side of it, claiming residence of the seat.

“Excuse me, but I–”

“I know. I was about to tell you.”

Goggles wrapped around his forehead. He stands next to me with his hands in his pocket and his chest forward. “My name is Proxy. Whatsup?”

What a brazen attitude, but it’s not like he’s making fun of the teacher or anything, at least from what I can tell.

“...I see. Mr. Proxy… Is this name a joke?”

“Is yours?” he asks, casual with his tone.

“Excuse me?” the teacher inquires, glaring at him with an ill-tempered snarl.

“I’m just asking if you think your name is a joke as well. Thought that was obvious?”

His innocent smile says it all, “I couldn't care less about how you feel."

The teacher scowls at him. “Would you like to visit the principal?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Then take your seat!”

Intense ire is being shot at this “Proxy” kid, but he just ignores the teacher's fiery glare. Dragging out the chair next to me, he plops onto the seat. Immediately, he plants his head on the desk… Did he just go to sleep?

For the first half of class, he just sleeps off the class without the teacher taking notice. If he can get away with it, then why should I wake him?

“Now, for the first quarter, I’m going to be giving you a project that’ll be your largest grade for said quarter. I want a written report on cultural values that affected the world. We’ll go more in-depth on this project near the end of class. You’ll be doing this project in pairs of two. The person sitting next to you will do.” Sitting next to me!? Don't tell me that he’s going to be my partner! He’s not even paying attention! “If you have a problem with your partner, then you may speak to me after class.” Good. “...But at least wait until the end of the next week to do so.” Seriously!? “Any questions?”

The urge to raise my hand hit me, but the need to not stand out also struck me.

Class resumed, nothing of note to add on. Then, the bell to move to second period sounded off. The other kids left the room, saying nothing to the teacher. I sit up from my seat, picking up my bag from the side of the table.

“Hey!” A voice booms from behind me, freezing my body in place. Turning my head, Proxy had woken from his nap, looking dazed. “...Is it time to leave?” he asks me.

“Yes.”

He jumps out of his seat, chock-full of the energy he was lacking a moment ago. “Sweet! Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Will it be quick?”

“Yeah.”

Pausing from hesitation, I quietly sigh to myself. “...Fine.”

He rummages through his bag, sifting through the materials he brought for school. A single piece of paper is what he takes out; his schedule. “You know where I can find this class?” His next class is math. Hmm, same room as me… Hey, we have a fairly similar schedule! So, then… Responsibility for him to find his way around the school is up to me. “So, do ya?”

“Y-yes…I do.”

“Great, wanna tell me?”

“We have the same classes, so I can–”

He grabs me by the shoulders with a goofy grin on his face. “Awesome! Let’s get going!”

He zips up his bag and runs to the exit. His movements were pretty swift, moving to the other end of the room before I could get up. I grab my bag and join him. Outside in the halls, everyone's voices spread around their radically different emotions, acting like a thick miasma.

“You new to the city?” Proxy asks me.

“Y-yeah…”

“Then welcome to NewPort Island, dude. If you need info on the hotspots of this place, I’m your guy.”

Not really something I’m too interested in. This city is a place I don’t care to know too well. On another note, why haven’t I seen this guy all the beginning week of school? Speaking of, today was the first time I’ve heard his name. Whenever roll call is being made, I just tune out.

“So, um…where were you all of this week?”

“Me? I was sick.” How inconvenient. “...I felt weak and stuff like that. I thought I was going to drop dead, but then I popped into a clinic and they told me it was a cold.”

“Ah.”

As if me bumping into that girl wasn’t enough, something whacks me on the side of the head. My vision goes out for a moment. Luckily, I didn’t hit the floor this time either. Proxy had caught me. My glasses!? Where are they, w-where did they go!?

“My glasses, where did my–”

“Here.” He shows me my glasses, unharmed by the sudden collision. “These things are expensive, right?”

Was he able to catch me and them? His hand-eye coordination must be good if he was able to grab me and my glasses.

“Sorry, man, I didn’t see you there,” the kid who hit me on accident says. “...I didn’t even know you were coming.”

Such a kind smile, only for his words to reek of mild amusement.

“I don’t want your help,” I mutter.

“What did you say?” the tall kid grabs me by the collar, trying to intimidate me with a sneer banking on a horrid face. "...I was trying to be nice!"

"Yeah, right. You only asked 'cause you'd look bad in front of your friends." He goes tight-lipped, shifting his eyes every which way. "...And is this how a 'nice' person treats someone?"

"Damn, you gonna let him talk to you like that?"

His friends snicker at him. They're no better, giving off a repugnant feeling. From peer pressure, he raises his arm, getting ready to hit me.

When he brought his fist at me, Proxy had caught it effortlessly. "Come, man. Don't tell me you weren't laughing a little?"

How was he able to catch it like that!? Not only that, but he looked confident in his ability to block it.

"Who the hell are you!?"

"Me, I'm just a concerned classmate, that's all."

"Let go!"

"You first."

His grip tightens around the older kid, making him loosen his grip on me.

Proxy lets go, wearing a cocky grin on his face. "Nice choice. Come on, Mr. guide. We got a class to go to."

Proxy walks through the onlookers. I follow suit, still amazed by his speed and precision. If it were anyone else, I don't think they would've been able to stop the attack like that.

"Move to the left," he tells me.

"What"

"Now!"

I jump to the other side with no further argument. A second later, Proxy counters an attack aimed at him; planting an elbow against his attacker's stomach. It was the same kid who grabbed me by the collar. He drops to his knees, coughing out the air in his lungs.

"Man, my bad, I didn't see you there. You okay?"

The arrogant grin on his face says otherwise. But how did he know that guy was coming? Between the chatter and his footsteps barely making a sound, I don't see how he could've known… Is he a psychic?

"Hey, what's going on!?"

An authoritative voice bellows from the other end of the hall, making its way here.

"Shit!" Proxy's hand snatches mine. "We're out of here!"

He forces me into a sprint as we run away from the prefects. During our escape, I gave directions to our next class, which was on the same floor.

"I think we lost them. You okay?"

"Okay!? I never…ran…that…fast!"

I'm the only one panting like a dog? My lungs are on fire and my legs keep pounding like crazy!

"Just be glad we lost them. Would've been a pain in the mass pain in the ass if we had to get in trouble for fighting."

"But I…di…didn't…do…anything, so why would I get in trouble?"

"Well… Huh, you got a point."

"Now you realize that!?"

"But you know what? It's all good."

"No, it isn't! You shouldn't drag other people into your messes!"

His expression widens, taken aback by my comment. Before I realized what I said, the damage had been done.

"You're right. My bad, I sort of just got caught up in the heat of the moment. Didn't mean to be a pain…"

Nothing, I sense nothing from his words. I can tell that he means what he says, but why can't I sense anything from his words? Even if it means he’s genuine, I’d still sense something from his words.

"W-wait!" I stop him before he can leave. "...I'm…I apologize for what I said. It's just…maybe you could've handled that a bit better?"

"Nah." W-what? "Dude had it coming, and besides, he was going to hit you."

Because he was going to hit me? He barely knows me, and I don't even know him. There has to be an angle to this, something I'm missing. Just because I can't sense something from him doesn't mean I trust him.

As expected, the late bell rings throughout the school, signaling that the next period is here.

"Crap, we better get going, man." Right as he's about to run off, he comes to a full stop. "Oh‌, just so you know, my name is Proxy."

"I know."

"Okay, then what's yours, smartypants?"

A tinge of hesitation bites at me. Despite my skepticism, I still need to give my name.

"Richard. Richard Delreth."