Monday, 11/14

Chafe is one of those words that sounds exactly like the thing it exists to describe. Moist. Haze. Arithmetic.

Ren tried to think of more, but the elastic band of his medical mask dug into his face. It hurt his cheeks more than any of Kawakami's ill aches hurt her, surely, though Ren couldn't know—he wasn't sick. The mask was nothing more than a polite precaution. He may have hated his classmates and judged them more than they did him, but there was nothing more despicable than being patient zero for flu season.

Speaking of patient zero, I wonder how Ryuji's doing…

The minutes before class when students filtered through the door and teachers rushed to their classes were long, leaving Ren with more than enough time to send his friend a text. He got his phone and did the deed.

Ren Amamiya:

-Feeling any better?

Ryuji Sakamoto:

-Incredible. Wanna grab lunch today?

Ren Amamiya:

-Let's do it.

So he's at school…

The digital bell played over the speakers and put Ren's phone in his pocket. The rest of Classroom 2-D followed suit, all of them staring intently up at the blackboard while they waited for Kawakami to start her lecture.

There was one problem.

Where the fuck is Becky?

Not even her bag was at her desk—she'd never gotten to school that morning. One by one, each student silently noticed. It was no big deal. Teachers were people too and they were late all the time. The more studious classmates got their notebooks and out to review their homework. Others turned their desks toward their friends and relayed stories of who kissed who, who drank what, and who wore what when.

It's the same thing every day. Same topics, same conversations, same feelings. The definition of nothing; like they open their mouths and TV static comes out. I can't understand it and I don't want to.

As critical as Ren was, he couldn't help himself.

"Ann," he whispered to the student in front of him.

She set down her pencil and twisted around in her chair. "Yeah?"

"Happy belated birthday."

"Thank you."

"Wanna get Kawakami back for taking your present?"

"I'm a good student, so I'll have to decline." Ann raised a finger, putting that thought on pause. "But I am a curious student, too. What're you thinking?"

Ren shrugged. "I start teaching the class as if I am Kawakami. She walks in, I treat her like she's Ren Amamiya."

"Hm… You've had better ideas than that."

"What? That's pretty good!"

"Meh. Try again."

"Okay, what if I jumped out the window and broke both my legs on the cement?"

"That sounds like quite the spectacle."

"You'd have to drag me across campus to the street for the ambulance, though."

"Pass."

Back and forth they went, offering up and shooting down ideas for how Ren could slight his late teacher. That lateness became severe—after fifteen minutes without announcement or arrival, the class's disposition morphed. The gossipers grew louder, the studiers gave up, and the GRAVY members ran out of ways to ruin their teacher's morning.

"Do you guys think Sensei is coming today?"

"Who cares? We get a free period!"

"W-w-well, hold on!" A spectacled student, short in stature and thin in confidence, stood up. Murmurs radiated around him. "Some of us want to get work done, and a rowdy classroom is distracting. I say we—"

"Ho-ly shit!" some girl blurted, silencing the murmurs and turning the heads to her.

I don't care what she has to say. Anyone who slowly emphasizes the syllables in "Oh my god," or "Holy shit," can fuck off because they have nothing worthwhile to say.

"Look at Shujinstagram—the school is on lockdown!" she added. It stunned Ren into a small realization.

Maybe I have nothing worthwhile to think.

The spectacled student's hopes for a quiet classroom were squashed beneath a chaotic roar.

"Lockdown? We can't leave?"

"What about my lunch date?!"

"My social anxiety literally can't right now," one girl said, surrounded by a group of friends that all nodded along in agreement.

Ann yawned. "I'm calling bullshit on that," she said beneath the hum of the classroom, only loud enough for Ren to hear. "There's no way any rules require the school to lock down unless there's a murderer nearby."

"What about me?"

Ann raised an eyebrow. "What about you?"

"I'm a murderer, and they never lock—"

"Ren, this is serious because we could be stuck in here with these people. Cool it with the jokes until we get out of here, okay?"

Wow… This is an attack on me. She has a reasonable point that any sensible person would agree with, but my ego wants this to be personal. Whatever. She's right, I'm just insecure.

"Got it, sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Let's pay attention to what they're saying."

Ren and Ann looked back to the center of the classroom. A few students stood and gathered in a circle to take turns reading the article. It almost looked like they planned to sacrifice the students that sat in the middle of the circle, but Ann told Ren no more jokes—he kept his observation to himself.

"'All teachers are out sick. Stand by until further updates.' Wow…"

Is it just us students? Who's gonna force us to stay in class if there are no adults? Taro the Tank could still be here, but I wouldn't count on it. He's not dependable enough to show up often.

"That's an official announcement from administration!"

"So… We're stuck in here?"

"Not for long, though. They'll figure things out and we'll be out in a quick hour, you'll see."

Ren rolled his eyes. An hour wasted at a school without learning was something he'd never get back or get over. He checked both straps of his mask to make sure they weren't verging on snapping, then he decided to make sure his hour wasn't a waste.

I could get a few assignments done before we're let out.

He grabbed his bag from beneath his chair and plopped it on his desk, unzipping it quickly and reaching in to grab a sheet of pa—

Ren's hand stopped.

This does not feel like paper.

His hand dove further into the back and felt up the not-paper object, an item much rounder, drier, and grittier than paper. He grabbed it by its end and unsheathed it from the bag.

"What the fuck."

Ren brought his breakfast, lunch, and dinner to his face to make sure that he wasn't seeing things. When a loaf of bread looked him in the eye, he had to check his bag. Both hands dove into the abyss to seek out the truth, no matter how terrifying it could be.

One loaf, two loaves, three loaves… I blame Morgana. Sneaky little fuck.

With no homework to do and no pencils to doodle with, Ren was left with one way to spend his time.

"Hey, Ann?" She turned around to face him just in time for him to offer her a loaf. "Bread?"

"Where did you—" She shook her head. "Actually, I don't care. I'd love some bread."

One long hour of nibbling bread, shooting the shit, and video chatting with GRAVY revealed no changes.

"It's so goddam boring in here, man," Ryuji said through the phone. "They're playing cards, but who wants to do all that math?"

Futaba's camera ballooned when she spoke. "Math? Unless you're counting cards, you only need simple addition."

"Yeah… That's a lotta work."

Ren could see a few people roll their eyes, or so he thought—it was difficult to tell with the low resolution. At the very least, Ann physically recoiled from Ryuji's laziness about math. She and Ren sat next to each other in their corner of the classroom, isolated from the other groups.

Some students had Switches to keep themselves occupied, some colored pencils for art, and some had good old social skills to keep up with their friends. The classroom was at its most casual and Ren didn't mind. Each person having a distraction kept their eyes and voices off of him.

It is starting to get a bit musty. Someone will have to open a window soon. And, if worst comes to worst, someone will have to use the bathroom. They're in for a rough time.

Through all of this, Ren's mask stayed on, repeatedly secured whenever he remembered that he wore it. If all the teachers were out sick, surely some students carried the illness.

To be fair, Ryuji's here at school. He doesn't sound nearly as bad as he did on Ann's birthday, but he's probably a little contagious. Good thing we're in different classes, or else I'd have to kill him and burn his corpse.

"So, you guys are like fully trapped in there? No one in, no one out?" Futaba asked, igniting a flurry of answers from the Shujin students.

Makoto nodded. "In a way. We could leave, but it'd violate protocol."

Yusuke raised his hand to talk over the phone but waited for no one to call on him. "Is there food?"

I'm gonna keep my bread secret. If I told Yusuke, I'm sure he'd show up, break in, and demand lunch.

"Ren brought a buncha bread," Ann said, prompting a double-take from Ren and Makoto dipping out of her camera's view. "A bit stale, but still good."

"Ah, Ren, you smuggler! I knew someone would have snacks. I'll be there in—"

"Please don't."

"Do not fear, Ren! You will be able to share your bread with me." Yusuke's camera went black and his contact dropped from the call. It was terrifying for the moment, but that faded when Ren heard his name again.

"Hey, Ren," Futaba said. She hid a candy bag beneath her desk, but the snacks she snuck into her mouth were obvious on camera. "Be careful of Ann. She's dangerous."

Ann scoffed a bit loudly for Ren's taste, and loud enough for other students to give her a look, but she didn't care. She was occupied with telling off Futaba. "Futaba, that's not—"

"Seriously! She's the type of girl to lock down a high school and force everyone to kill each other!"

Not agreeing or disagreeing… But those have always been the vibes I've gotten from Ann. She's very nice but subtly murderous.

Ryuji laughed, cutting in and out from poor connection. "So effin' true."

"Hey! I'd never lock anyone—"

Ren looked up from his phone to see commotion at the classroom door. "The door is locked!" one student yelled, the hand jiggling the doorknob and getting nothing. With frantic wide eyes, they looked around the room hoping for another student to solve their problem. "We're stuck!"

Oh, bullshit. There isn't enough karma in the world for Futaba to perfectly jinx us like this.

Ren looked to his left. Ann sat with her back against the wall, her legs hanging over her desk's armrest, and her phone in her lap. There was something sinister—an undertone that connected her posture, her behavior, and her choice of friends together. Suddenly, it all made sense—Ann was a serial killer and the locked door was just the beginning of her massive killing spree.

Ann caught him looking. "What?"

Or maybe someone just had to call bullshit on the door. Ren shook his delusions off, set his phone on his desk, and stood up. Eyes went back and forth between Ren and the student at the door, but they came together when Ren reached his destination. The student backed off and let Ren take a look.

One pointless quarter-turn of the knob later, Ren confirmed it. "Locked." A second look revealed something more interesting. "From the inside." He turned around. "One of you guys has the key."

Whispers and rumors swept through the groups of students, none loud enough to reach Ren by ear—except for one. "Maybe you have the key, Amamiya-san," said Ozaki, nasal as ever and sounding sicker than Ryuji on a Saturday. However, that was just his normal voice. "You are wearing a mask. Are you sick, too?"

"If I was sick, why would I be here and why would I lock you all in with me?"

"I dunno—you're the evil one," Ozaki countered, standing up. "What do you all think?" He looked around with a grin. He expected an uproar concurring with his point, but there was only silence.

"Yeah…" one girl started. "Ozaki-san, I don't know if I want to believe you. It's your fault we ended up working for the entire festival."

Ozaki sputtered. "B-but—"

"Amamiya's definitely sick, though. We should… Do something about that."

"Oh, come on. It's just a mask!" The whispers flattened and everyone turned to Ren. "I've been in contact with a few people who were sick, but I'm perfectly fine and there's nothing to—"

"He's been contaminated. Get him!"

"There will be order in the court or there will be no justice in the world!" one student said above the crowd of Classroom 2-D. "The class trial shall commence when there is silence!" Soon, there was no crowd to talk over—the student appointed as judge achieved a perfect courtroom.

The defendant, his lawyer, his counsel, and his supportive family members were confined to one seat in the back corner of the classroom, his one exit blocked by the cabinet his desk was pushed against.

I'm excited to be my own advocate, for once, even if it's for a stupid reason. What am I on trial for?

"Your honor," Ren said, addressing the judicial student who sat atop a small pyramid of desks that signified importance. "May the defendant know the nature of his charges?"

Between the judge and Ren were empty desks—students vacated them for the sides of the classroom, split evenly on both. Ann was the closest student to Ren. She chewed her nails while Ren awaited the judge's answer.

"The defendant is brought before the court on the charge of," he cleared his throat and held the paper on his desk, "being sick. Does that satisfy the defendant?"

Wait, I thought they think I have the key. So I'm on trial for bullshit? Ugh…

"I suppose."

"I suppose…?"

"I suppose, your honor."

"Thank you. Now, assuming there are no other questions, the prosecution may begin the class trial."

Ren stood up and his phone buzzed in his pocket. "Objection—why do they get to go first? Am I—"

"Because your mask muffles your voice and I don't dare ask you to take it off. Sit, Amamiya-san." He obeyed and let control slip away, sliding his poor posture beneath his confined desk. His phone lit up the space below.

Futaba Sakura:

-Careful, you can't trust Ann around class trials. She's trying to kill all of you.

Ren Amamiya:

-I have more urgent matters.

Futaba Sakura:

-"Urgent matters," as if you're not a teenager being tried by other teenagers. I'm gonna go farm dragon parts, lemme know how it goes and when Ann takes her first victim.

"Let me begin by pointing out the undeniable fact—" Ozaki, the prosecutor, said with increasing volume and an aggressive finger pointing right at Ren, "—that the defendant happens to be Ren Amamiya, someone we all know to be horrible."

"Objection, your honor! The prosecution has brain damage." Ann snorted and a few students gasped, but Ren's favorite reaction was Ozaki's finger losing its confidence. "Don't forget that we all watched him get that brain damage, too."

"Objection," Ozaki said. "This has no relevance to—"

"Both objections are irrelevant. Ozaki-san, please continue your statement."

Ozaki began a lawyer's walk that took him around the classroom. "Amamiya has been Shujin's public enemy number one since arriving at Shujin and everyone in this class has been a first-hand witness to his antics. Leaving class early, cursing out his teacher, the intimidation of Mishima—"

There's an unseen force stopping me from objecting to bringing up Mishima. "Your honor, the intimidation was kinda warranted." Meh. Not worth arguing about.

"—Among a great many other injustices that show that Amamiya thinks himself better than any of you." Ozaki's lawyer walk took him to the left side of the class. He walked along the line of spectators, looking each one in the eye to get them on his side. Unfortunately for Ozaki's case, it was Ozaki doing the prosecuting. He stopped at one student and said to him, "You, Enomoto-san. Is Amamiya better than you?"

There was an obvious answer, one that Ozaki was desperate for, but the student raised an eyebrow and scratched his head. "Uh… Better than me at what?"

"Better than you in gen—"

"Like at games? Sports?" The student's perplexed frown vanished and he snapped his fingers, finally realizing what answer Ozaki must have wanted. "Oh! His test scores are pretty good. He's definitely smarter than me, so sure—he's better than me."

I didn't know that an honorary GRAVY member was in attendance.

Ozaki turned to the judge. "Objection!"

"...Are you objecting to your own statement and follow-up?"

"Uh, n-no, I—" Ozaki cleared his throat and distanced himself from who was now Ren's favorite classmate. "Amamiya's high and mighty attitude led us to today. He is here with us attending class while knowing that his white blood cells are fighting a losing battle."

"Objection! I do not have a terminal illness!"

"Granted." The judge turned to the student a few desks to his right. "Could we strike the white blood cells remark from the record?" The hard-working student nodded and slashed a line across the paper, then went back to writing in a blur of motion. "Ozaki-san, wrap up your opening."

"My point is that Amamiya is in class, knowing he is ill, because he thinks that rules do not apply to him. Now, he is on trial and we the people have a chance to show him that everyone must follow the rules, even the rulebreakers." With his opening wrapped and his worst resting without objection, Ozaki nodded at the honorable judge. "Thank you." He took his seat and left silence behind.

"Now, the defense is allowed an opening statement."

I reject the idea of taking a class trial seriously.

The start of Ren's rebellion came with not standing up to speak. "Yeah, uh… This isn't worth anyone's time. I'm not even on trial for what we should be worried about, the key, so why don't we put this on the back burner and have a more important discussion?"

"You don't wish to say anything to help your case?"

"I shouldn't need to. It's open and shut—I'm not sick."

"Then we'll end opening statements and start the trial here. Present your evidence first, Amamiya-san."

"I'm wearing a mask out of respect for you all." Ren did stand for this, but not for the reasons expected of him. Ozaki stood when he spoke because it's what he saw lawyers do on TV shows and because his classmates—a council that could affect the judge's decision—expected it of him. Ren stood because he wanted to appeal to the crowd and relate to them, winning them over on his side through manipulation.

When he rose from his desk and got a full view of the room, he scowled from his confined corner of the room.

They're all spineless trees that sway at the wind's trendiest whims.

"I wear a mask today because I respect all of you. I am not sick but if I were, you would not be in danger because I have taken this precaution. This may damage to my case, but I bring this up to counter the prosecution's brain-damaged accusation against my character." That scowl became the best smile Ren could muster for anything that wasn't Makoto Niijima. "I respect my peers because I'm with you six days a week for a year. If I were a rulebreaker," he flashed a grin across the room at the prosecution, "then I wouldn't be wearing this mask. Because I am no rulebreaker and because I'm a respectful, active member of the Shujin community, I wouldn't be here if there was any doubt of my health." Ren ended his statement by sitting back down and abruptly wiping his smile off his face.

"Your honor, men and women of the court," Ozaki said, standing up and spinning around to garner eyes. "I implore you to remember what you did during the Culture Festival. It was because of Amamiya that you worked as videographers, as doctors, instead of spending the Festival with your little siblings or your grandparents who only visit once a year. Amamiya does not respect your time, nor does he respect you."

A few low hums through the room were enough for Ren to sit up straight and take Ozaki a bit more seriously.

"On the very first day of the Spring term, I saw Amamiya commit a violation of the student code."

Can't be anything too serious if I don't remember it. Yeah, there was that whole thing about King Kamoshida, Morgana talking, and missing the first half of the day, but it was a normal day by my account.

"He had a feline in his desk!"

"Goodness!" gasped a student.

"What a crime!" said another.

"Yes, a cat! He trapped this poor creature deep in the dark abyss of his workspace where only I, Ocular Ozaki, could see—"

"Objection!" Ren stood up. "The prosecution has attempted to devise a nickname for himself and is clearly not in the right mind for a proper trial. I call for a dismissal—"

"Denied. Ozaki-san, finish up with this point so we can move on."

"Thank you, your honor." Ozaki walked forth from his desk, closing the gap on Ren so he could look down on him. "I watched this cat squirm and suffer in that stuffy desk, yet all you did was push him deeper inside. Is this cat your pet, Amamiya-san?"

I'm not a witness being questioned, so I don't have to answer that, right? If I don't, it's a bad look. I could lie? Eh, been there, done that. I'll get out of this by being honest with my words, if not my winning smile.

"Yes."

"Do you regularly abuse your cat?"

"No."

"How often do you jam your cat in tight, suffocating spaces?"

"Just that one time."

"So you do not deny that this happened?"

"I do not."

"Thank you, Amamiya-san." Ozaki retreated to his desk with whispers going throughout the room and the scales of justice tipping against Ren.

He needed an adrenaline shot. "Your honor, I call Ann Takamaki to the stand!"

Muttered words cursed out Ren from his left, but his eyes never left the judge. "God dammit, Ren." Still, Ann got up and walked to the front of the room, taking one of the desks below the judge's mountain so she could be at the center of the class's attention. With the eyes off of him, Ren's breathing slowed and his thoughts gathered in a single-file line.

Ren stood up. "Takamaki-san, since when have you known me?" He would've approached her desk to show the class their friendship, but his quarantine kept him in the corner.

"Since the first day of the Spring term."

"Then you remember when I brought my feline friend, Morgana, to class and showed him to you."

"Of course. He was so cute."

He's a bit fatter now, but still pretty adorable.

Ren put the pressure on Ann's shoulders because they went unburdened all morning. Surely, she could handle a bit of quick-thinking improvisation. "Do you remember why I had Morgana in my desk?"

"I do—Mishima made you do it."

You want to throw a curveball? Fine, two can play that game.

"Right. He…" It took a second too long to come up with words for Ren's taste, but there was no objection. "He threatened to tell Kobayakawa I was a cheater unless I let him pet my cat. That's why I brought Morgana to school." Ren turned to his classmates at the sides of the room to see nods and shared glances, most of them believing the story. As for the prosecution, his fists were balled and his upper lip quivered with torturous restraint. "And why was he in my desk? Takamaki-san, do you remember our conversation after class that day?"

"Yes. You told me how much Morgana loved to burrow in any space he could." Ren knew he won the moment when a few students couldn't keep quiet.

"How precious!"

"Aw, what a cutie."

"Thank you, Takamaki-san." Ren bowed for Ann and the judge, then relaxed in his nook and readied some invisible popcorn to see what Ozkai could cook up. Surely, Ozaki knew that lies were on the table with the bullshit Ren just stirred into the trial. "No further questions, your honor." Ann left the makeshift witness stand and joined Ren as closely as she could in the corner, but kept quiet. Her complaints about the improv would wait until the end of the trial.

"Does the prosecution have a counter?" asked the judge.

Ozaki stood up too quickly. He approached the front of the room, phone in his hand, and took his voice to unheard levels of volume. "Why yes! I do happen to have a counter."

Objection. He also has brain damage.

"I call Yuuki Mishima to the stand!"

Good luck with that.

The memory of Kawakami casually dismissing any and all requests to bring Mishima home was fresh in Ren's mind because the petty side of him replayed it before bed every night. Mishima could not be a witness, let alone come within a few thousand miles of Japan.

The judge's politeness regarding bullshit in the courtroom was admirable. "Ozaki-san, need I remind you that Mishima is not here?"

"He will testify!" Ozaki declared, slamming his phone on the desk. "Via video chat!"

Damn those programmers and their constant innovation in the realm of digital conversation.

When Ozaki balanced his phone on a book, Ren could barely make out the round face of his old nemesis on the other side of the screen, but the blinding beach sun in the back made it difficult. Still, the blue hair left no room for debate—Mishima had returned.

"Mishima-san, thank you for taking time away from your surfing ca—"

"Internet surfing."

"—From your internet surfing career to join us for this momentous trial. I assure you, this won't be long." Ozaki looked right and left at his classmates. A few chewed their nails and others played with their hair—tension was high. Finally, in a moment that made Ren want to set fire to the desk behind his, Ozaki turned back and smiled at him. "Mishima-san, did you ever blackmail Amamiya into bringing his pet cat to school so you could pet it?"

"Nope, never happened."

Ozaki let out a thunderclap of success and spun around to face the judge. "There you have it! The evidence is destroyed and I win!" Quicker than he clapped, Ozaki ended the video chat and pocketed his phone. "I leave the case in your hands, your honor." With his mouth finally closed for good, Ozaki sat down and enjoyed the heart-hearing silence.

"I will now absorb council input as I decide the result of the case." The judge stepped down from his desk mountain and set up shop at Kawakami's desk, where a line of blabber-mouthed students formed in an instant.

Ren looked across the courtroom. At the prosecutor's desk, Ozaki picked at his fingernails but smiled the whole way through it.

Anyone who happily picks their nails is an evil, twisted man.

He chipped off the end of his nail and touched his finger to his mouth.

Evil, twisted, and brain-damaged.

When he yawned for the first time that day, Ren knew he had sat in that corner for too long. His phone battery was exhausted, his ass hurt from the wooden chair, and the headache that arrived when Ozaki opened his mouth that morning only intensified.

The sun is literally setting, the judge is still undecided, and I am stuck in a classroom with Ann and a bunch of animals.

"Don't hand me another loaf of bread or else I'll eat it," Ann said from Ren's left.

The reasonable person that she was, she had no care for the outcome of the case—Ren's word was enough. Thus, he shared bread and small talk with her while they awaited the outcome. His low battery kept GRAVY out of the loop, but they would know as soon as he found an outlet for the charger he had tucked beneath his loaves.

"What else would you do with it?"

"Beat Ozaki to death."

"Oh…" It was a tempting thought, but Ren kept his bread in his bag. Only so much conversation could last through the hours they were trapped in that classroom, especially when they were on the edge of their seats. "Let's rain check that. Looks like something's happening." At Kawakami's desk, the line from hours ago dissipated and only the judge remained to scan through his trial notes. Ren sensed an end.

The judge stood. "Students of Classroom 2-D, I have my conclusion." Around the room, exhausted students perked up. Some napped with their heads on their desks, whereas some went about killing time the same ways they had earlier. However, they were much less energetic than they were in the morning. "The prosecution proved that Amamiya is not of good character, willing to lie in court to serve his own ends, and proved, by proxy, that he is sick. Thank you for waiting."

Not just a waste of my time, but of the world's time. It's a waste of time for the parents of these students if they raised kids this dumb.

Ren couldn't help himself. "What did this accomplish? Sure, I'm stuck in my corner and you're all free to roam the room, but we're trapped in here because one of you has the key."

"You're projecting," Ozaki said, standing from his small group of friends. "You want to take the attention off of you because you have the key!"

"Fuck you."

"Oh no, Ren Amamiya hates me! Maybe he'll sic Maruki on me like he did the whole volleyball team!" Ren would never dare to cross the classroom and assault a student, but he did dare to consider it. "Amamiya-san, I don't know why you're keeping us here, but—"

"You're the one with the key."

"Yeah?" Ozaki stood up and put on his prosecutor grin, turning to the class with open arms to invite them to share his opinion. "Who's gonna believe you on that? I've proved you a liar once, I can do it again."

All Ren needed was one protest, one student standing up and voicing their concerns. For all of them to silently watch Ozaki gallivant about the room with not one word was a crime. For them to share his opinions was intolerable.

"I don't care who believes me if it's up to these people," Ren said, motioning at the onlookers. "They can get sick for all I care." A few gasped but most kept quiet and watched like the bystanders they were. "In fact, I hope you all get sick. It's what you deserve for putting up with Ozaki, the trial, and this key bullshit. All of you are the problem, you and your need to get along with everyone else. We're stuck here because of your indifference, now you have to sleep in the same room as the killer transfer student. I hope you're all wide awake tonight and that you get scoliosis from these floors. Is that what you want?" No one blinked twice at him. "You're all people, aren't you? Have a thought and act like it!"

Ren's voice rebounded off the walls and that was the only sound in the room. The bystanders couldn't breathe over the silence if they tried. It overpowered their static-filled heads and their programming to take offense from Ren's words. Instead of shifting in their chairs to avoid the discomfort of the fire Ren lit beneath their seats, they watched.

Despicable.

When the silence lasted long enough, Ren fell into it, watching the bystanders back and challenging them to do anything about it. They didn't—it took a tug on his sleeve from behind for the staredown to end. Ren sat down next to Ann and accepted her hand on his shoulder, not that it made him any less pissed.

"Wow…" Ozaki said with more pride than Ren ever had. "Sounds like you really hate us."

"Go fuck yourself."

Ren's isolation went off without any hitches. He and Ann existed in one corner of the room, the rest of the class drifted into the opposite corner. As the orange light from the window declined into darkness, except for the ceiling lights, most students moved to the floor. Jackets were used as bedding and backpacks became pillows. The chatty atmosphere of students anticipating a quick departure from the morning was long gone, replaced by subsocial individuals who preferred to scroll their phones to death while their friends did the same thing a few feet away.

They're already sick of being here, but they wasted time on the trial.

That phone-driven lack of energy bit the class quickly.

"Hey, can I use the outlet for a bit?"

"Nope, I'm still charging."

"What's your phone at?"

"Why does it matter? I'm the one using the outlet."

"Just let me get some juice and—"

"No, man, I called dibs on the outlet!"

To prevent the digital addicts from becoming ravenous over the room's single outlet that hid behind Kawakami's desk, a sign-up sheet was made. Before Ren could turn to Ann to joke about the necessity of such a thing, she was at the front of the line and he was stuck in his corner, alone but with a half hour of battery left on his phone.

And with the class's largest supply of food.

Hearing people grumble about food is music to my ears. When the room devolves into resource wars, Ann and I will stand above the rest with our baguettes raised high.

"Hey, I was next!" Ann's objection silenced the usual buzz of the room and caught Ren's attention. He looked to Kawakami's desk, seeing two students pushing past Ann and taking their pens to the sign-up sheet. "I'm the first one in line! You can't just—"

The cutting students gave her barely a second of their time. "We can and we will because you aren't one of us." Just like that, their names were where Ann and Ren's should've been and they were gone from the front of the classroom.

Ann's too nice. She's upset, but she'll move on and write her name in the next open spot, then forget about it entirely. I guarantee it.

Ann flashed her pen over the paper, then dropped it when the next student in line shoved her out of the way. "H-hey!" He put his name down so casually that he must've been deaf to the furious person next to him. Ann stamped her foot and grabbed him by his sleeve. "Why can't you wait your turn like a normal person?"

"Tch." The student swatted her hand away. "Why would I be behind you in line?" He left quickly, taking the conversation with him. Dumbfounded, Ann stood next to the sign-up sheet and surveyed the line of students.

"How many of you refuse to wait if I'm ahead of you?"

The question was answered by the next person in line ignoring her and putting pen to paper. Everyone else in line watched, their consciences too meek to speak up for what was right. Or, more likely, the hate in their hearts for GRAVY was too strong to care about fairness. Ann sighed, set her pen on the desk, and left the front of the line to return to GRAVY's corner of the room.

"Why didn't you just write our names down anyway?" Ren asked as she sat next to him.

"If I did and we got to our turn with the outlet, do you think they'd let us use it?"

"I see your point… We'll make do without our phones. I've got some battery left because I've had all my internet settings off for a while. We can play chess to kill time."

Ann crossed her arms and stared across the room, committing ocular murder on the students who laughed as they signed their names on the paper. "Thanks, but… I'm good."

"If you really need power, we could trade some bread when they get desperate enough."

"I don't think we'll be in here long enough for that."

Ren considered Ann's words with a glance around the room. With students needing to charge both phone and bodily batteries, there wasn't much living going on. Most were ready for bed, only stopped from comfily slipping into rest by the firm floor and lack of true blankets.

Still, exhaustion would crush discomfort with enough time, and that was all they had in Classroom 2-D.