It was a sunny morning with little wind, and through the large and extensive windows of the classroom one could contemplate the outside, losing oneself in nature which was gradually being absorbed by the artificial. While most students were looking forward to concentrating on the teacher's words, others were distracted by their devices chatting with classmates or simply watching news raging on the net. One of them was sleeping on her desk with her face sunken in her arms, giving no signs of life until she suddenly began to move. At first slowly, as if she were being disturbed in her sleep, until then her entire body shook from head to toe, waking her up instantly.
The shock was severe enough to cause some things to fall off her desk, and for a few long seconds the whole class was silent. The young woman was staring at a fixed point without adapting to reality, as if she were still unable to perceive it. Glances fell on her with concern and the social science teacher stopped writing on the blackboard some dates, to approach her overflowing with curiosity, while she gathered her things, stunned by the nightmare, without distinguishing reality from the dream.
"Everything in order?" he asked a few steps away from her, hands in his pants pockets.
The young man's brown eyes matched the mole on his left cheekbone. Many students enjoyed gazing at that detail, and were completely captivated when he turned his attention to them. Yet, there was someone who did not get tangled in his charm, holding his gaze with the silver in her eyes, aware that he was trying to intimidate her as a teacher to a disrespectful student, albeit in a soft and funny way.
"I am sorry I interrupted your class, Touma-sensei."
The man watched her as she collected her belongings. He could sense that something was wrong, since he had never seen her fall asleep in the middle of a class. She was the only one who carried a book to read along with her tablet, and when the teacher stood beside her desk, he looked quickly at the cover of the object, until a faint smile lit up his face for a fraction of a second. He observed her a few moments and turned to resume his class, letting an enigmatic smile shine through. He was followed by the eyes of the students, who were completely silent as if a death had been announced.
"Well, if Takahashi-san falls asleep it is because I am boring you all to death, is it not?"
The class chuckled, even Yashiro gave a contorted smile at the teacher's dazzling sincerity. His very particular way of teaching, bringing out at least one smile at the shyest, made him one of the most loved among his students. Despite this, Yashiro did not manage to concentrate on his fascinating explanations thereafter. Her mind kept repeating the past images like an infinite loop she was part of, and from which she could not escape.
During the rest of the class, she was unable to notice that her right hand was shaking slightly, although the teacher could see it despite the distance, who had been studying her furtively all the time. When the class was over, several students crowded around Yashiro such a gang gathering to plan a robbery, asking how she was doing, whether she had slept well or, conversely, someone had come to disturb her.
Her features changed completely in the face of such attention, and she kept smiling as she told her classmates that she had only fallen asleep, and that there was no need to worry. Touma Kouzaburou overheard from his place with a nostalgic smile, while he put in his backpack a pyraminx he had started to solve that morning. When the students began to go out, he waited for them all to leave until he was finally alone with Takahashi Yashiro. He proceeded to lean on his desk with his arms crossed in an informal manner and watched her closely, looking for any clues that might explain her condition.
"Something wrong, Yashiro?"
The young woman turned when she heard that tone, which signified concern. The man's face was so angelic, that he must have been older than her by only a couple of years. Yashiro had to raise her head a few inches when she looked at him, for she was among the tallest in her class. Her eyes narrowed for a brief moment and were lost in another direction, but when she returned to the man's they reflected an absolute disinterest, which he recognized as pretending.
"I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine."
Touma shook his head softly, and even smiled tolerantly as he followed her with his eyes and thought about it, without coming to any conclusions. He was aware that she had lied, but he would not insist on further questions. Some people did not feel the need to open up to everyone, and he had no objection. As they left the classroom for the outer courtyard, they walked slowly and quietly for a long time, until the sun's rays caressed their skin and the distant murmurs of the students reached their ears.
"Don't you find it aberrant, Yashiro? Even though opportunities are immense and information may be accessible to everyone, people prefer to be shaped by customs and vices. This academy makes me feel like a damn drone, giving explanations without getting questions or comments. How beautiful it would be to hold how ungrateful they are against them… you know that it was twice as boring in the past?"
Yashiro raised her eyebrows and cocked her head to the side, as she watched students talking to one another several feet away. Hatred ran through him like an electric current, the same one that she had long been able to perceive and which, being the last year for her and her classmates, he completely let escape between words.
"You mean the time when students had to kill themselves handwriting throughout the class?"
Touma anticipated the young woman's words as if they were his own, and extended his arms forward with an unreachable gaze, pointing to an imaginary audience.
"They were turned into subjects and not individuals. Today, even though most teachers have changed, students still accept everything they're told, losing themselves in the masses. It'd be so easy to manipulate them with false information, that I melt just thinking about it…"
Yashiro turned to him connecting with the gaze that, at the time, exerted a magical and frenetic impulse, like a forest that was beginning to burn, and at the same time, seemed to contain the flames so as not to consume itself.
"Of all institutes existing… why did you choose the Ousou Academy? I know you got a hue as pure as water, so surely, you've been offered a range of options…"
Touma roared with a long, deep laugher, leaning slightly forward as if to exaggerate the fact that he had been discovered. Some girls cast curious glances at them which gradually changed, until they became more and more astonished. Professor Touma always managed to catch the attention of those around him, especially if they were women, and he took advantage of that if it benefited him in any way.
"Hope you get more sleep for next class!" exclaimed Touma in a mocking voice.
Yashiro shook her head when he greeted her with the hand that did not hold his satchel, and she responded to that gesture with a disappointed grimace, as she watched him leave. She caught a glimpse of an almost imperceptible smile on his thin face, and then she understood that the truth was hidden in his words, since he had truly missed her participation in class. Her classmates were always in funeral silence with their eyes fixed on him, accepting each and every one of his words since none of them or very few of them, were interested in investigating what was said later or perhaps at the time.
The dining room at the Ousou Academy was large and majestic, usually quiet as there were rarely arguments or fights. Many students preferred to make a fuss in the toilets or all those places out of sight, so as not to be discovered by professors. Some even bothered others to keep their hues in good condition, although in such a conservative academy the psycho pass remained stable.
Yashiro used to be grateful for the constant calm, but this time she was prey to the memories that plagued her mind and could barely enjoy her lunch. Staring blankly at the table in her glaring thoughts, she did not notice the student who had entered the dining room, followed by the bold glances of the others. When the shadow of that figure was cast beside her, it finally caught her attention and she blinked in absorption.
"It's unusual see you worried," a perfectly polished and uniform female voice affirmed, which seemed to dance in a soft whisper, and at the same time disturb the atmosphere, like a hypnotic melody.
Yashiro curled her lips for a fraction of a second, completely ignoring the casual murmurs and laughter coming from the other adjacent tables. She looked up to focus her entire attention on the tall, thin girl, who was watched by many of her admirers particularly because of her long black hair, which was always loose and reached down to her waist, thus imposing a magical yet simple elegance.
Yashiro bowed her head slightly to those amethyst eyes, which were staring at her with an almost palpable coldness, something that many students did not notice. She glanced at her for a few seconds, felt her fork twice and continued her lunch, which was beginning to get cold from the long wait. In response, the girl proceeded to sit in front of her in a refined, upright position. They usually asked permission to sit, but Yashiro had become so accustomed to her presence that manners had long since ceased to exist between the two of them.
Ouryou Rikako was always accompanied by one or two students as if they were bodyguards, but every time she addressed her, she did so on her own. Yashiro wondered what she had to hide, why she needed to protect her reputation so much the way she did. Would she be wary of her psycho pass? They were silent for a long time, one eating placidly and the other analyzing her every move, with that empty, enigmatic expression that so characterized her and to which Yashiro had become used.
"You're tormented by something you can't let go of, and that's why you had a bad morning, right?"
Yashiro wiped her mouth with a cloth, leaving her hands slowly on either side of her tray to look back at her. In that instant, Rikako pursed her lips with pride knowing that she had hit the mark, and leaned forward with her hands together, her chin resting on them. The reflection in her eyes denoted the purest complacency and were fully fixed on the person in front of her, as if memorizing every expression or detail exposed. There was a deep, supernatural calm in her presence, but the darkness that came to be seen in her eyes was deafening. It was like a rage meticulously constructed so that all around, no one could perceive it.
"As perceptive as ever," Yashiro praised, pausing briefly. "How are you doing with your drawings?"
Rikako was stunned by the silvery coolness of her eyes, prolonging the silence longer than necessary to make evident her desire to know what had happened to her in class, whatever was going on in her mind at the time. Yashiro was a puzzle to her, however, and she knew that she only showed her inner self when she was ready to do so, she did not like being pushed too far.
"I see," Yashiro reflected aloud. "I could help you find the inspiration you lack."
After a long minute, at the end of her last bite of lunch, she stood up with slow, polite movements, leaning forward slightly. Earlier in the morning many of her classmates had become concerned at seeing her tense for no apparent reason in the middle of class, and rumors spread as fast as a bullet, reaching Rikako herself.
"As a thanks, I'll make an exception by allowing you to see my latest work. It's not finished yet, so your opinion will be very helpful," Ouryou Rikako approved, imitating her movement and standing in front of the table.
They stood facing one another for a few moments, oblivious to the surrounding environment, until Yashiro tilted her head with some irony or perhaps derision, arching her eyebrow for a fraction of a second, unaware or completely ignoring the looks that rested on them with both curiosity and admiration.
"Ouryou Rikako is giving me access to one of her incomplete works? This is an offer I can't refuse."
Although she did not show it, Yashiro was truly surprised, and in turn flattered. As they walked past with their eyes straight ahead, some students murmured in unison or simply smiled, blushing in the process, something they were already used to, the only difference being that while it made Rikako proud of, Yashiro did not care at all.
At that moment, she only wondered what work her classmate was talking about, what it looked like, what it meant; such was her self-absorption that when another student greeted her and asked if she was all right, she automatically responded with a simple nod and a broad smile on her lips, gestures and words that came out from inside her with great simplicity.
At that time, the academy corridors connecting the various classrooms were isolated and silent, and were only stunned by the gentle footsteps of the two students. Yashiro followed her as she watched her walk carefully, and she could almost hear the slow sound of her breathing from her position. When they arrived at one of the art rooms, Rikako placed her hands on the doorknob and opened it, gesturing gracefully with her head to signal her partner to move forward.
The room was empty with a single drawing in the corner, placed with its back to every possible viewer. Rikako was very cautious, she did not like to have her drawings looked at unfinished. She preferred to refine them until she finally decided that she could make them public in class. The deafening silence of the room was dazzling and Yashiro let herself be carried away by that wonderful peace, walking slowly and softly. The only thing missing from that room was the sweet whispering of a piano, but she merely gave it sound in her mind.
"What do you think? Don't you feel it lacks more… realism?"
The hesitant voice of Ouryou Rikako brought her back to reality and opened her eyes again, taking the melody out of her mind. She turned to the girl, who sat in front of her creation with her hands on her knees. Yashiro approached to study the piece very carefully, standing behind her. The image was such a pleasant surprise that she could not contain her growing interest and moved closer, staying only inches away from her face and leaning slightly forward.
A woman was looking up, as if she were staring at something beyond her reach, naked and with her hands together in what seemed to be a silent cry. Behind her was a large tree to which she was attached, as if she were part of it or subject to its presence. Some leafy branches covered her, but she seemed to be alone, out in the open, though she had pleasant company. Yashiro came to smile warmly, and exchanged a long look with her partner.
"I wonder what inspired you… solitude? Blindness? The Sibyl System, perhaps?"
Yashiro's eyes shone brightly, and she seemed to enjoy her every word. Rikako merely smiled in mystery and Yashiro knew that the last option was more feasible. She began walking through the room with her hands behind her back, followed by her partner. Unlike Rikako, her hair was brown and fell back below her shoulders, though she usually wore it on her chest.
Her gait was elegant and cautious, as if she were constantly analyzing others, looking for the slightest possibility of finding danger in front of her eyes. She never turned her back on anyone—even though there was no one in the academy who would wish or think to harm her. She watched her feet as she walked, as if to avoid falling, but Rikako knew that beneath that unwavering blanket of deep calm and understanding, she found herself in awe, perhaps even distracted. It was something that was allowed in her presence.
"Now… will you tell me what's going on, without changing the subject?"
Ouryou Rikako opened her eyes delicately, fixing them on her partner. Ever since she had seen her in the dining room, the same doubt had been eating away at her inside, rigorously and deeply. Yashiro stopped the impetuous march with a long, deep sigh, pausing silently as if she knew that the question would reach her ears at any moment. She tilted her head gently in the direction of Rikako, who still sat with her straight hair behind her, unmoving like a corpse, and kept looking into her eyes with a curiosity that seemed to tear her apart.
"I dreamt of ghosts from the past I thought I had buried," Yashiro nodded with an almost mystical softness.
Rikako gazed at her for a few eternal seconds, noticing those silvery eyes that sparkled like two tiny pearls, and having to resist the imperturbable force that gaze exerted on her, like a magnet that attracted her and drove her away. She was a few feet away, and yet she seemed to be immeasurably far from reality, as if she could float of her own free will.
"We all have ghosts. You just have to learn to overcome them."
The strange, somber words of Ouryou Rikako echoed in Yashiro's mind, and they circled unevenly over and over again, until finally she illuminated the meaning that had been embedded in them. Yashiro narrowed her eyes, never ceasing to observe her, reasoning out what she had said, until she asked the question that was growing inside her, "How?"
Rikako found it hard to believe that Yashiro, being older than her, was asking her for advice. The fact that it was something she did not usually do with others, except for some teachers, filled her with pride, and after a deep breath, she rose to address her partner, staying a foot away to respect the physical and intimate barrier she so strongly held. Her thin lips moved with voluptuousness, and despite the distance Yashiro was able to glimpse the wetness that glowed over them in a sinister way.
"Accepting them, living with them, until they can offer you nothing but simple memories…"
Her voice echoed throughout the room like sweet whispers of cold winter. Yashiro softened her expression and smiled subtly, bowing her face in a respectful and kind manner in the form of gratitude. Then she walked back to the window, to watch the blue sky and the students crowding into the courtyard.
What caught her attention and made her eyes wander was a little girl standing unnoticed by others, her clothes and hands bathed in bright red. She was gazing up at the sky in confusion, just like the woman in Rikako's drawing. Yashiro closed her eyes tightly, however, and when she opened them again, she discovered that the jagged image was gone.