Backup
A had never been one to socialize with the other children.
B didn't care particularly, but if he had been forced to guess, he would have said that the reason was twofold: first, A had a considerable superiority complex. He considered himself much better than the other children; he, after all, was the top candidate to replace L if necessary. He was the one who got special lessons with L. The other children were beneath his notice.
Second, he was simply too busy. When he wasn't over-achieving in class work or taking his special lessons, he was studying some obscure subject, probably assigned by L, of which the others had never heard. He didn't have time to socialize. In fact, as B whispered to himself in the darkness after lights-out, A didn't have much time left for anything. A, of course, didn't realize this; or at least B assumed he didn't, until four hours and nineteen minutes before A's death.
At that exact time, something unusual happened: A came over to him at breakfast, stared at him for a few seconds, and then spoke.
"B, do you like it here?"
B stared into A's face for a moment before answering. "Yes, I do."
A looked… exhausted. He had huge, unappealing bags under his dark eyes and a sagging look to his entire face. There was no light in his eyes at all. When he spoke, it was with a heavy inflection. "You seem like a hard worker… I've been watching you recently."
That was interesting. He had been doing it very carefully, then, because at the same time B had been watching him for some sign of what was coming, and he'd noticed nothing.
Also, it suggested the answer that he'd been trying to find. B stared at A uncertainly—and when the older student sighed and spoke again, B's guess was confirmed.
"Can't say I envy you for what you're going to go through," A muttered, as if to himself, and every piece settled into place in B's mind. So—so that was what would happen. As A turned and walked away to eat breakfast alone, B lifted his wrist to fiddle with his watch.
The alarm on the watch went off four hours, seventeen minutes, and forty-one seconds later, in the middle of class. Everyone jumped and looked at B, who apologized and turned it off.
A hadn't shown up to class. No surprise there. Staring listlessly at his watch, B wondered how he had done it.
The House was in a panicked uproar for the next few days. A, their top student, their top candidate to replace L, had hanged himself in his room. He'd left no note, probably assuming that the only person who mattered, L, would understand anyway.
B was the only one who remained calm, though he was careful to act horrified when necessary. It was, however, no surprise to him. He'd watched A's lifespan fall lower and lower for months, not without fascination, not without a touch of eagerness.
The top candidate was gone—killed himself from the pressure. It was time for the backup to take over.