Satisfied with his new contact and the overall state of the day, Keegan decides to head for his dorm, proceeding towards the red-bricked building that is the male dorms. As he heads back over to the dorm, a nicotine craving starts to set in — an invasive feeling that easily overwhelms him. Jesus, I have no willpower.

Conceding to his own body's demands, Keegan automatically finds himself moving to the front gates. His forced trip is cut short when he notices the plain-looking boy from earlier, who is currently doing nothing but watching the clusters of students flowing from the main building with a still expression on his face. I can't tell if that's a look of judgement or if he is just lost. It could be both. Keegan thinks to himself, his feet unconsciously moving towards the lonesome figure.

Hisao ends up standing in front of the main building after his hasty visit with Nurse. It's the first real look Hisao gets at the other students, and so he finds himself watching people coming out of the school, going towards the gate or the dorms. Everyone appears to know where they are going. I still keep thinking that most of them don't look too special for being students at a special school. Then again, neither do I. Does that make me one of them? One of us?

The sudden sound of a gruff voice behind him startles Hisao; with a quickened heart rate, he quickly turns to reveal the source to be the rather tall student with the dead-looking eye he previously encountered.

"Yo."

Letting out a breath of relief, Hisao collects himself and speaks. "Hey, you're Shiro, right?"

Keegan looks over in the direction Hisao was previously looking towards before turning back to face him. "Yeah, that's me. You got me at a disadvantage here." Did he notice my idle watching?

"Oh right, I'm Nakai. Hisao Nakai."

Surprising the heart-troubled boy, Keegan extends his hand to him. So he is capable of being friendly. He returns the gesture, giving a loose handshake.

"So what's up? You're standing around like a lost dog." Keegan comments.

Indeed, he did notice. Just as well, I wasn't exactly being subtle about it.

"Ah, just lost in thought."

"Hm. Word to the wise, try to look like you're doing something if you're gonna be 'lost in thought'. Might help ya look less creepy."

"Oh gee, thanks. I'll be sure to remember those wise words from such a friendly guy." Hisao mutters a sarcastic reply.

Keegan smirks before responding. "Heh. You referring to before? I try not to get along with obnoxious people. Or people in general. It's a well-developed skill of mine."

"What about that girl you were with?"

"An exception. I'm sure once she sees my anti-social side, it'll scare her off - anyways, I gotta do something. Later on, Nakai." Shiro replies in a rushed tone, taking off towards the front gates; giving a quick wave behind him as he goes.

He's gone within the crowd before Hisao can get out a sentence. Huh. That was brief. I should go somewhere too, to prevent myself from getting lost. It's around dinnertime, but I feel tired instead of hungry.

o—o

The weariness in Hisao only grows as he trudges towards the dorms, set a little way apart from the main building complex. There is a garden of sorts between the school and the dorms; shrubbery, flowers and that overbearing smell of fresh-cut grass that fills the atmosphere. It dawns on my tired mind that the smell feels novel because I haven't been outside at all for so long.

The dorm building is big and made of red brick. Like the others, it feels way too pompous for what it is. So he pushed forward, going inside. It takes more time than necessary to fish out the key he was given from his pocket.

"Room one-one-nine..." He mumbles, reading the inscription on the key.

Despite the ornate exterior, the inside of the dorm is fairly new, functional, and boring. Similar to the main building, the halls and doors are wide to accommodate wheelchairs. The same goes for the elevators at the ends of the hallways. Hisao pokes his head around the corner of the common room door. Inside a few students are watching the television. One nods and gives a quick 'hello' before turning back to the TV. Geez, seems that only the girls around here are sociable. I suppose that's fine with me. He climbs the stairs to the upper floor.

Up there, small corridors branch off from the main hallway. Each of the minor halls comes equipped with a toilet and shower, as well as four rooms. About halfway down the hall, Hisao spies the room 119. The nameplates on the rooms adjacent to mine are blank. I guess there are just two of us here. The light shines from below the door of room 117, so he decides to knock lightly.

"Hello, is anyone home?"

From inside, a few movements are heard, then the clicking of an unnecessary amount of locks. After a moment the door squeaks open. A bespectacled boy is standing in the doorway.

He is looking at Hisao very intently through his extremely thick eyeglasses. "Who is it?"

Blind? No, at least not completely, why would he have eyeglasses if he was? He leans closer to me until their noses are almost touching. He stinks of garlic and something else Hisao is unable to distinguish.

"Hisao Nakai... I'm moving into the next room. I thought I should introduce my..."

His face suddenly brightens in realization, and he stands back upright, thrusting his hand out in a smiling greeting, almost straight into Hisao's diaphragm.

"Oh, 'sup dude? The name's Kenji."

"Ah, hi."

He takes Kenji's sweaty hand and shakes it, still, a little rattled by the sudden change of attitude and vehement welcome.

"There were some suspicious-looking people going in and out of your room earlier."

"It was probably my parents."

"Your parents? You sure? 'Cause they could've been some other people, too. You can't judge a book by its cover."

His out-of-place proverb is left hanging between them awkwardly as Hisao thinks of some way to respond.

"I'd say the chances are high enough."

He shudders and makes some exaggerated hand gestures. "You're a brave man, Hisao. Me, I don't think I could trust the chances. The only one I trust is myself."

"Does that mean I shouldn't get to know you, either?"

He thinks about this for a while.

"A wise decision. Damn, you are smarter than you look. Probably. What do you look like? I hope not smart."

He squints his eyes and leans closer again, but stops at the sound of a now-familiar voice.

"I'm guessing the concept of personal space is a foreign thing to you, eh?"

They both turned to see Keegan in the doorway to the main hallway. What timing.

Kenji steps back to speak. "Who are you?"

Keegan mumbles something under his breath about cats then walks past the two.

"Shiro. I'm in room one-one-eight." He introduces himself oddly to Kenji, approaching the said room.

"Have we met?" Kenji asks suspiciously.

"Nope..." Shiro answers with haste, taking out his key and unlocking the door to his room — making his exit as quickly as he entered.

"Whatever, doesn't matter."

With that, Kenji turns, fumbles around for a moment in search of the door handle and shuts the door behind him.

Hisao slides his key into the lock of the door marked 119 and enters the room. Bleak beige walls, white linen, a desk made of some type of light wood. Ugly curtains. It's no one's room; impersonal, like my hospital room was. His bags are sitting at the foot of the bed, looking a lot emptier than they did this morning. The closet is sitting open, stocked with his clothes. There are a number of school uniforms hanging there as well. A note is pinned to the sleeve of one of the shirts.

'Hi Hicchan. We've unpacked your things and made your bed. They said that if these don't fit then you should go to the office tomorrow. If you have any problems, you can always call us.

Love, Mom and Dad'

Well, at least I don't have to worry about unpacking. I kind of hoped I would have, then there would be something to do. It's still too early. He puts the note down on the desktop and lays down on the bed, feeling drained. Lying there makes me want to read something, but I have nothing with me. I wonder if the hospital conditioned me for wanting to read whenever I have nothing to do. The restless urge just keeps growing. Maybe it's stress or something. I was pretty nervous about it before coming and for the entire day today too. I still am, I think. Damn, I have to distract myself somehow, so I won't be this unnatural all the time. Tomorrow, I'll go borrow some books from the library. Yeah, I'll do that. But for now...

The bottles of medications neatly arranged on his night table catch Hisao's eye. Picking up one and shaking it just to hear the contents rattle inside, and then he reads the glued-on pharmacy label.

'Hisao Nakai'

'Two tablets daily to stay alive'

It doesn't really say that, but it could just as well. It's kinda twisted, having your life depend on chemicals like this. I resent it a little, but what choice do I have? With a sigh, He begins his new daily ritual of taking the right number of pills from each bottle, being careful to check the correct dosages.

Lying down again, feeling hollow and uncertain. After that, he keeps staring at the blank, unfamiliar ceiling for a long time. It doesn't start looking any more familiar to him, not even after darkness falls and long shadows draw across his room like fingers. The sheets feel slightly more comfortable, warm and nest-like against the chill that passes for room temperature here. Soon the lighter shade of darkness that is the ceiling looks like every ceiling does at night, and it becomes the only thing he can recognize anymore. The night beckons Hisao to sleep, and he feels the coldness of unfamiliarity and fear creeping up his spine once again. I keep drifting further away from the world I knew.

Throughout the entire night, Keegan struggles to get a wink of sleep. Agitated and frustrated with himself, he pushes himself out of bed. Taking in the aura of the darkened room, he digs through the only other bag he owns, grabbing an irregular pill bottle that wasn't part of his prescription - opening it and downing a few of its contents.

Cthulhu, bless me with sleep. Or Jesus Raptor. Fuck it, someone, anyone.

Keegan throws himself back onto his bed, grabbing his notebook off of his desk. He begins some freewriting to pass the time as he waits for the process of sleep to consume him. A half-hour into this and he is temporarily granted relief, falling into a restless sleep.

o—o

I shoot up from my bed, waking in a foreign environment. No, not foreign.

Scanning the desolate surroundings - an old weathered room, the crackle of thunder in the distance. The musky smell of rotten wood and stale air fills my nostrils.

What is this? I know this.

Feelings of dread and regret begin to fill my head as fragmented recollections start playing in my mind like some broken record that was skipping.

Contorted sound of metal twisting; an empty playground; the sight of a lonely convenience store in the night; a fake home; a friendly face on a swinging body. Stop.

This place... is very, very wrong. I don't want to be here. Let me leave.

Panic and unease set aside my other emotions I'm forced to my feet as if I handed someone control over my movements, stepping onto the broken floor. Stop.

I walked into the rundown hallway that only leads to a single door.

The sense of dread returned in full with an overabundance of guilt. My feet begin inching towards it. My growing uneasiness reaches critical mass when I approach the door.

No. No. Nonononono. Please. I don't want… let me leave let me leave let me leave. My pleas do nothing as my hand grasps the door handle.

STOP.

o—o

"STOP!" Keegan flips out of his bed in a panic - drenched in sweat as his heart races. The darkness around him beginning to be pierced by the early morning sunlight. Almost hyperventilating, he rubbed his chest in an attempt to calm his nerves.

He looks out the window before checking the time on his phone.

'5:38 AM'

"Goddamn it…" Muttering to himself as he lifts himself back onto his bed. So much for blessing me with sleep! You assholes! He scolds the fictitious deities in his mind.

He lays his head down, rechecking what he wrote the previous night. Ideas that add up to a story about a pirate-alligator king taking over the southern hemisphere. What the fuck was I on about last night?

Letting out a sigh, Keegan sets the notebook down on the desk and returns to laying there.

"I need a smoke.".