41.
chapter forty-one:
did you know
that I love
libraries and the
empty spaces they
offer to bawl
your eyes out?

Serena <3: 
Hey. 
Are you okay? 
I'm sorry. 
Please respond. 
Ash. 
Ash? 
I know you are mad at me, and I'm so truly sorry! 
I won't ignore you from now on. Please reply. 
✓ Delivered 06:45 PM 
✓✓ Read 02:23 AM 

The lowest brightness on the scale was still enough to illuminate the eerie confines of my bunk bed. I stared at my screen, a thousand double-edged words running through my mind; the two fools of my soul split between the reigning darkness and the soluble optimism.

One part of my intuition questioned my answers and injected regret into my veins.

Did I do it right?

Or am I in the wrong for ignoring her?

Should I reply?

While the other focused on overthrowing the former.

I feel something so wrong doing the right thing, so it must have been right as I'm feeling bad.

Wasn't she the one who used that knife against you first?

If she doesn't care enough to hear me out or comfort me about the nightmares, why should I?

I turned on my mattress to lie down on my right side. The injuries from facing bullies of Anistar High were healed, but the mental scars, I could trace them in the back of my mind.

My eyes widened when I saw the offline status of the girl turn yellow to idle. I quickly dismissed Discord and hid my profile to offline. The indicator showed she was still online, and a heartbeat passed before it turned grey. The same messages had shown up in my Telegram account, and I had read that first.

But it was too late into the night for her to be awake, wasn't it? It was nearly a quarter to one.

She probably turned in to see whether you replied or not.

The thought stimulated my fingers to type a response.

You: I hope it's not time yet to let you go.

I paused, considering how it might cost me.

You: But how do I hold on?

Exiting the app, I switched off my phone and laid on my stomach. That was a way to fall asleep, and I let the message be but a draft stored away for an eternity.

The morning came soon, and I was sitting behind Gary and Misty, by May, frowning. 
"When's the tryouts?" May asked with happy cheer. 

"Tomorrow." 

"Cool!"

I shrugged and stared at the timetable that Professor Sycamore had handed us in the morning. The first period was definitely something to put my mood off. Social.

Lysandre came in with yet another declaration to test our aptitude for learning. Having learned the hard way, I managed to tune him out.

However, that only did me worse when he apparently commanded us to stand up, and I, with my head in the clouds, thinking about the upcoming Pokémon Horizons episode, didn't.

The entire class turned to me, and I tried to stand up, only managing to overthrow the books under my desk. I managed to catch the table before it toppled over. Hesitantly, I looked at Lysandre, and he was wearing a disappointed expression. He shook his head from side to side and commanded us to sit back.

During the task, I found myself involuntarily looking over at where Serena was. She was partially obscured by Tierno sitting by her, but I could still make out how she looked no more attentive than I was. I felt my heart twist with regret. Why'd I tell her off?

However, each time I thought about the upcoming soccer practice, I couldn't help but feel rage fume up within me. She knew very well how important that one trial had been but had still shown up and managed to distract me.

I was harshly snapped out of my musings by Lysandre calling me over to the staff room. As I left, I could feel more than just a dozen pairs of eyes on me. With each step I took, dread and fear filled me. What was he going to do? What was he going to ask?

"Mister Ketchum." I winced at the name, nevertheless didn't look up from my boots. 
"Sycamore, I hope you know him?"

Professor Sycamore looked at me, concerned. "Is he in any trouble?"

Lysandre laughed, a hollow and manipulative sound. "Oh, I suppose he's been through trouble. Something's on his mind constantly. So much in his headspace that he has—" He lowered his voice and leaned closer to where I was standing. I took a step back in retaliation. "Absolutely zero concentration."

"What are you intending to do, Professor Lysandre?"

"How about a therapy session? And consecutive ones when I assess him during the first one. He might probably need three to four, and he'll be just fine!"

I flinched. Therapy?!

"I don't—" I opened my mouth to speak but he cut me off, holding his hand up.

"I can see the fear in your eyes." Suddenly, he threw his arms around my shoulders, excused himself from the staff room, and led me to one of the club rooms—probably the photography HQ. I didn't have any time to react when he locked the door and sat in a chair, not far from where I was. "Tell me, boy. What are you so afraid of?"

I bit my lip, hoping he would let me go if I maintained my quiet.

Unfortunately, that didn't work.

"Are you afraid of school? Failing grades?"

With a hastily rushed decision to divert the topic away from the real matter, I nodded.

"So, you're afraid of your parents."

Not the point, but he still got there and it scared me crazy. I shivered, involuntarily pocketing my hands. It might come across as rude and undisciplined, but I couldn't help the shiver that ran through me when his eyes shone with a peculiar passion. A passion to annihilate my life.

"Your body language says it all, m'boy. Let me tell you what I assessed. You don't like your last name, you don't wish to get failing grades, but you can't concentrate either. I don't blame you for the last part. Fear consumes."

I nodded hesitantly, and he opened the door. "I'll let you go for today. Maybe another session tomorrow." He placed his hand on my shoulder, and I drew away instantly as the strange fear overcame me again, my skin crawling. He didn't seem disturbed. "You will require but three more."

With that, I was dismissed. I sprinted, not towards my classroom because I knew it would be too noisy; not to the restrooms, seeing as it was the hour it would be washed; but to the library.

I gave as much of a smile as I could muster to the librarian and made my way to the philosophical sciences rack. It was as deserted as it could get, dark even with little light pouring from the windows. The weather was overcast, just perfect.

I slid to the floor, my knees giving way as the eerie fear crawled into my head, to my heart, which sent it to all the ends of my body.

Sick nightmares, broken friendships, failed opportunities, manipulative therapy sessions, and sobbing silently in a nook of the library.

Could my life get any worse?

— 💌 —

Hey guys!

This act ends, and we're nearing the end of the first half of the book too. I thank everyone, (especially the twenty or so readers that delight me each time I take a look at this book's stats) for their support!

I'd love to hear your thoughts until now!

In addition, I'll be posting a new short story on amour day ❪ 27. October ❫ !! So keep an eye out for that! ;)

Thank you for reading!

Miyoko x