Last part, and shortest. B's reaction.
B felt wooden. It was an interesting sensation.
He had found it a little strange that A hadn't been around the day before, but he'd assumed A had been resting up after the exams. After all, A had never been a particularly resilient one, physically.
But now, when Watari announced that A was dead, he didn't seem to know how to feel about it. So he just stopped feeling.
I'm a piece of wood, he concluded. Sounds seemed to have stopped, too. He could see blurry images of his fellow students whispering to each other, but he couldn't hear them. He wondered vaguely if he could move. He couldn't hear Watari anymore, either. The last he'd heard was that A had passed away. Watari had begun by addressing the fact that many of them had wondered lately where A was…
B blinked several times quickly, and his vision cleared a little.
I'm wooden and my eyelids are windshield wipers. He peered between the heads of his classmates. He managed to turn his head and look behind him. My neck must be rubber… or jointed. It moves.
At the back of the classroom, he could see L hovering, looking like he didn't want to be noticed. L Lawliet. B's vision became clear as crystal when he read the name floating above L's head. What do they mean? Why can I see their names? Why can I see those numbers?
Be hadn't mentioned the names or numbers to anyone since he was a small child. He'd been diagnosed as insane and accused of worse. Demonism, witchcraft, lying, trickery. He'd been put into a psychiatric hospital at the age of six. Only after he had pretended for a full year that he didn't remember seeing any names or numbers over anyone's head, and did not know why he might have said such a thing before, was he released.
But I know I'm not insane. I've gotten better scores than all the kids here. I'm brilliant. But the names are still here, all around me. So they must be there. And those numbers mean something. I have to know what. A's number was smaller than most...
L was returning B's look now. Only B wasn't looking directly at L. And a moment later, L glanced above his own head, as if searching for the thing that had captivated B's gaze.
But he can't see. No one can see but me. No one else has my eyes.
Something like a strong wind or a wave of water was rushing between the two of them now. B didn't know or care what it was. He looked into L's eyes when they were lowered again. He stared at his mentor.
L doesn't appreciate me. I've done everything I could to emulate him. But he'd rather spend time with A than with me. Well, he's dead now! Now do you want me? Now that you finally look at me, as if for the first time!
The rushing stopped. Something touched his shoulder and he could feel again. As he turned his head around, he realized he could hear again.
"Come along, B. Did you hear me? There are no classes today, so you may do as you like."
It was Watari. B looked around and saw that all the other students had left-that was the rushing. The room was empty except for Watari, Roger, L and himself.
He knew he should answer. Will a wooden mouth open? Can it form sounds?
"Yes… thank you." Yes, and what strange sounds it forms! That isn't my voice. He slid off the chair he'd been crouching on and slouched toward the door.
L watched B go. Then he said quietly, "He seemed very distracted."
"He and A were friends," Watari explained.
"Were they." L blinked slowly, then ran a hand through his untidy hair, wondering what had captured B's attention for so long.
What just happened? B thought to himself. A student had died. Unexpectedly. "Due to an unfortunate oversight," Watari had said. B wondered what that might mean.
I'll go ask A what he thinks.
So begins B's insanity. I don't plan to add more to this story, but I may write a sequel later. Much later, I hope... I need to get out of this morbid mindset.