Currently, the entirety of my elementary school was crammed into our hot and stuffy gymnasium. Earlier today the principal had explained to us that a group of researchers were going to be coming in to test us, something about conducting research and gathering. To be honest, I could have cared less about any of that, all that mattered was that because of their research we got the entire afternoon off. Sure, we had to spend it in a loud, stuffy gym, but it was a lot better than spending it listening to the teacher drone on about math equations.

As soon as the principal had finished us students were left to chat loudly amongst ourselves, a clutter of voices ricocheting off the walls and around the room.

As the students chatted away, teachers had lined the gym walls supervising us, many of them wearing faces filled with annoyance clearly not wanting to be supervising hundreds of kids in a stuffy gym. Every now and then they would call a couple of us out, only for the students to return later and for more to leave in their place.

"What kind of test do you think we'll have to take?"

My attention was drawn to my friend who sat next to me. The poor girl was shaking in her seat, hands clenched so tightly together that her knuckles had turned white. Her parents were always pressuring her to get good grades so any mention of the words test, quiz or assignment left her in a nervous frenzy.

"Calm down!" I told her, practically shouting so she could hear me over the voices of the other students. Although I had heard her perfectly fine when she had mumbled the question, I knew that she wouldn't be able to hear me back if I replied in a similar fashion.

"It's not that kind of test!" I had to remind her.

She didn't look convinced so I opted for providing her more assurance.

"We're not being graded on any of this," I explained, "it's just for research. Take a deep breath and calm down."

She gave a slight nod before taking a couple of long, shaky breaths, flashing me a smile afterwards.

Unfortunately our little exchange was cut short as one of the teachers' voices rang out into the gym. I immediately shot up from my seat on impulse after hearing my name being called.

"I guess that's my cue!"

I gave my friend one last sympathetic look before swiftly squeezing my way past students, stumbling over the feet of others as I heading towards the gym doors with a couple of other children who were called. We followed the teacher out into the hallways where we were each led me towards different classrooms which were being used as makeshift testing rooms for the researchers.

The teacher led me to one of the first grade classrooms. The door was already wide open with a man sitting inside. I was a little taken aback from his appearance. I had assumed a researcher would have been dressed in a crisp suit, groomed nicely with maybe a pair of classes sitting on the bridge of his nose. Instead he wore a simple t-shirt with jeans, messy hair atop his head and a goofy smile plastered onto his face.

He waved to me as I entered.

Although I didn't know him, I trusted him already. Maybe it was his appearance, the friendly smile he wore, or the air that just surrounded him. He was the kind of person that was easily trustable, someone who got along great with children, the kind of guy the kids love.

He was someone you could trust.

If only I had known the truth sooner.

"Riley, right?" He asked cheerfully as the teacher left the room and closed the door behind me.

"That's me." I took a seat at one of the desks in front of where he sat, wriggling around uncomfortably in the tiny seat meant for six year olds.

"Good," he beamed whilst picking up a clipboard, "you can call me Kyle."

We had just met and we were already on a first name basis. Like I said, he was the kind of guy kids would trust in a heartbeat.

I got a brief glimpse of the paper attached to the front of the clipboard he held. There was my student photo along with what I could only assume to be some of my personal information provided by the school. Below that there were a series of little checklist boxes.

"Now Riley," he started, drawing my attention away from the clipboard and towards him, "do you know why my colleagues and I are here today?"

I nodded. "Something about gathering information for your research, right?"

Kyle clapped his hands in praise and I couldn't help but feel like he was being a little too over dramatic about my correct answer. I was ten, not five.

"That's right," he cheered, "we're having everyone in your school do a series of little tests and we'll record the information. It's going to help immensely with our research!"

I couldn't help a grimace from forming on my face. "It must be pretty boring, having to do the same test for everyone in this school and all." The thought of them having to go through all of the students in my school sounded horrible. Did he know how big my school was?

Kyle raised his hand and waved around his index finger. "Actually, it's not just your school Riley, but all of the schools in this city!" He said the last part using exaggerated hand motions in an attempt to emphasize how big the city was.

My eyes widened in disbelief and my mouth hung open.

"Every school in the city! That's going to take you forever!"

With a sigh he shrugged his shoulders and offered me a smile. "That's the life of a researcher. But anyways," he suddenly composed himself and it was as though the goofy Kyle from before had vanished, "let's get to business, shall we."

I nodded and Kyle glanced down at the clipboard before looking back up at me.

"Try and guess what I'm thinking about right now."

It took me a couple of moments to register what he just asked me to do. I had been expecting him to hand me a sheet of paper and answer some questions, not try and guess what he was thinking about. I'm sure he could see the confusion written on my face but I still answered his question anyway.

"Umm, you're thinking about how much you like your job?" It came out as more of a question then an answer.

Without uttering a word, Kyle simply picked up his clipboard and brought a pen to the paper. With one swift movement, I could hear the soft scratch of a single line being drawn on the page.

Not wanting to waste any time, Kyle quickly went onto the next task, holding both his hands behind his back and smiling at me.

"Guess how many fingers I'm holding up."

I shot out the first number that popped into my head.

"Six."

Another line was drawn on the page.

For the next test I was given a sheet of paper to look at with about twenty images on it and I had ten seconds to memorize as many as I could. Once my time was up I was only able to name back about five of the pictures.

Another line.

Kyle then got up and turned off the lights in the room. There was thick cardboard taped over the windows so as soon as he flicked the switch the room was engulfed in darkness. He asked me to guess what actions he was doing to which I replied that I couldn't see a thing.

As soon as he turned the lights back on, he picked up his clipboard and drew yet another line.

The tests continued in a similar fashion, all the while Kyle refrained from explaining what exactly it was that he was testing for. It made no sense, none of these tests seemed to relate to one another in any way shape or form and they didn't seem to have to do with anything in particular.

After several more tests the goofy Kyle from before was all but gone, as though it had only been an act to draw me in and gain my trust.

Every test he gave me resulted in a single line being drawn on the page, that is, until the next one.

Kyle held up his phone and playing around on it for a couple of second as he opened up a program. All that was on his screen was a number dial and a play/stop button.

"I want you to tell me what you hear."

Is what he told me.

Kyle proceeded to tap the play button. The second his finger made contact with the screen, a loud ringing sound instantly erupted from the device, so loud in fact that I could feel it piercing into my ear drums like a drill, rattling around inside of my head. I let out a shriek and stuffed my fingers into my ears, but that did nothing to help muffle the sound or stop the pain.

My ears felt like they were going to explode, like my eardrums were being ripped out. My ears hurt. My head hurt. My brain hurt.

Nausea washed over me in unbearable waves as the noise pierced through my skull.

I puked.

My lunch was now a clumpy puddle on the desk in front of me, the pungent liquid dripping off the edge and onto my lap.

At some point the sound had stopped and Kyle had leaned down next to me. His mouth was moving but I couldn't hear his voice over the ringing my ears were making. I cautiously removed my fingers from my ears, a pounding headache coursing through my skull as a second round of vomit surfacing in my throat.

With a shudder, I forced myself to swallow it back down.

After a couple of minutes I was finally able to make sense of my surroundings again and my head finally started to clear up. Kyle was asking if I was alright and I gave him a reluctant nod. He returned to the front desk and picked up his clipboard. As soon as my hearing started to return the first thing I noticed was the scritch scratching of pen on paper. Looking up, I saw Kyle who was frantically scribbling down words.

"W-what was that…?" I managed to stutter out, my voice croaky and raw.

Kyle jumped a little and looked up as though he had completely forgotten that I was still there.

"It's called a mosquito ringtone," he explained, going back to writing stuff down on the paper without explaining any further.

After a couple more strokes he paused, pen hovering over the page. He one again he returned his gaze to me. "Riley, can you explain to me how loud the sound you heard was?"

"So loud it felt like my head was going to burst!" That may have come out a little more aggressive than I had hoped, but you couldn't really blame me. Did he not see my reaction or something? That should have been all he needed to know how loud it was for me!

He nodded and wrote down my words onto his clipboard.

"You have awfully good hearing Riley, were you aware of that?" He asked.

I nodded. My excellent hearing wasn't a surprise to me or anyone around me, pretty much everyone knew about it.

Kyle let out a 'mhmm' and continued to ask me various questions about my hearing, writing down my answers word for word as I said them.

"What about your parents, do they have any…special…talents?"

I thought about it for a moment, confused as to why he even cared about my parents, before shaking my head. "Not that I can think of."

We sat in silence, nothing but the scratching of Kyle's pen on paper for a while after that. Once he was done, Kyle brought his attention back up to me with a smile.

"That'll be all Riley, you don't need to do any more of the tests, you're free to go. I'll let a teacher know that you're not feeling well," he motioned to my vomit on the desk, "so you can be sent home early."

I nodded and got up to leave. From the corner of my eye I noticed Naru remove my sheet of paper from his clipboard, but instead of placing it on the counter to the side where a pile of all the other students' papers sat, he carefully inserted it into a folder which he then placed inside his bag.

At the time I never thought anything of it as I left the room. It wasn't until later when I realized that there were so many warning signs packed into that one meeting between us, but of course, I never realized any of them until it was too late.

If only I had paid closer attention then maybe things could have been different.