#absolute insanity

Karasu would probably never agree if someone described him that way.

Tall, physically above average, with a presence you can’t ignore even if you try. Not a genius, definitely not, but not completely stupid either.

He understands enough to get by, and in his eyes, that’s all he needs. But he has something else, something you can’t learn: He’s there when it counts. For his people. For the few he truly calls his own.

He had a good childhood. No drama, no chaos, no broken past defining him. Parents who cared. Enough money to get by. And that natural talent for getting along with people. Not because everyone likes him—quite the opposite.

He knows full well that there are plenty of people who can’t stand him, who find him annoying, loud, disrespectful, too much.

But that’s exactly what he doesn’t care about.

While others would rack their brains over why someone doesn’t like them, why they aren’t accepted, Karasu never really understood that. For him, it was never a problem that needed solving.

It’s just… like that.

“It is what it is.”

He says it often. Sometimes in that exaggeratedly silly voice, half-ironic, half-provocative, and sometimes completely serious, without a hint of a smile. And no matter how he says it—he means it. Not everyone will like you. Not everyone will get along with you. And that’s okay.

But if you saw him now, here, in this crowded hallway, amid voices, footsteps, and the usual chaos, no one would guess that he’s just a few seconds away from beating the crap out of his best colleague.

“Yo, Kickin—!”

Karasu raises his arm, despite the people around him, loud enough to cut through the noise. “What’s up, dude? Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

Kickin slowly turns his head toward him. His blond hair moves slightly with him, almost casually, as if even this small movement were part of a show.

His gaze is… empty in a very specific way.

Not just neutral, but that condescending, half-bored, half-annoyed stare where his eyes fix on you, yet at the same time seem to suggest you’re not really worth the effort.

His eyelids slightly lowered, his mouth twisted ever so slightly, as if he were already mocking the conversation internally before it has even begun.

He takes his time. He looks Karasu up and down, slowly, scrutinizingly, as if he were evaluating something he’s already decided on long ago.

He blinks a few times, for no real reason, and it almost seems as if there really isn’t a single serious thought behind that look.

Then he straightens up again.

The two are almost the same height; Kickin is perhaps slightly better built, more defined, but otherwise they seem almost like mirror images in posture and presence, only with a completely different expression.

“Yeah, no wonder we haven’t heard from each other in a long time.” Kickin’s voice is calm, but with that underlying mockery that resonates immediately. “You’re just chilling with that little faggot over there all the time, aren’t you?”

He grins slightly, crookedly, and tilts his head slightly to the side. “I heard that weirdo wants something from DogDay. Is that true?”

Karasu remains silent for a moment. Not because he can’t say anything, but because too much is coming up at once.

Kickin has always been like that. Big mouth, no filter, zero thought about when he might just need to shut up. That’s exactly why he’s gotten himself into trouble so often… and Karasu has had to bear the consequences.

But this time it’s different.

While he’s still thinking about what he could say, what he should say, his emotions are running high. Not just because of what Kickin just said. But because of everything. The last few weeks. Months. Things he can’t quite make sense of himself.

“Kickin, dude…” His voice is calmer than it should be.

The atmosphere around them shifts slightly. A few people in the hallway have heard the remark; they turn around, stop, pretend to keep walking, but keep looking anyway. Conversations grow quieter, glances dart back and forth.

That typical feeling when things are about to blow up and everyone can tell, but no one wants to be the first to actually do something about it.

“Listen, Kickin…” Karasu briefly runs his hand over the back of his neck, takes a deep breath, as if he’s still holding back. “I’ve had a ton on my plate lately, and besides, Y/N isn’t a sissy or anything.”

His gaze hardens. “He’s a colleague of mine. And a really decent guy. Plus—”

“‘On top of that,’ he’s trying to land a spot at DogDay and seems to have really screwed up.” Kickin cuts him off without a second’s hesitation. His grin widens, almost provocatively. “You know, Karasu… you used to be cool.”

He takes a small step forward, just enough to make it personal.

“But now?” A short, derisive laugh. “Now you just hang out with sleeping pills, nerds, and weirdos.”

His gaze hardens.

“What has become of you?”

For a moment, neither of them says a word. The air between them suddenly feels heavy, almost tangible, as if it might tip over at any moment.

Karasu stares at Kickin, impassive, but then he squeezes his eyes shut slightly, a small, controlled contraction, as if he’s pushing something back inside himself that’s rising to the surface far too quickly. His jaw tenses, barely visible, but clear enough.

Behind Kickin, Hoppy leans against the wall, one leg slightly bent, her arms loosely crossed, but her face has long since ceased to show any real composure. She rolls her eyes in annoyance and lets out a soft, exaggerated sound, that typical, half-bored, half-annoyed exhalation.

“What are you two even talking about?” Her voice briefly cuts through the tension, as if she’s trying to downplay the whole thing. She clicks her tongue, glancing back and forth between the two of them. “Come on, we have a lecture in—”

But she breaks off mid-sentence.

Not because she’s forgotten what she was going to say. But because she notices it herself. Just like the others.

The hallway isn’t loud anymore. Not really. Conversations have fallen silent or dropped to a whisper, footsteps have slowed, glances linger. People are pretending to be busy, looking at their phones, talking to friends—but every single one of them has at least one eye on this situation.

Karasu exhales loudly through his nose. Long. Controlled. He straightens up even more, as if that were even possible, making himself taller than usual, broader, almost instinctively trying to look down on Kickin, even though the two are barely the same height.

And at that very moment, your voice shoots through his head.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Karasu, I’m already an outsider.”

The sentence hits him harder than it should. Not because of the words themselves, but because of the way you said them back then. As if you had long since accepted that you would never really belong.

Karasu’s gaze goes blank for a brief moment. Not outwardly—no one here would notice—but inwardly, the thought pulls him away from this hallway, away from Kickin, back to you.

And then he suddenly realizes something he doesn’t like at all.

When was the last time he actually had a real conversation with you?

Not some silly comment between two lectures. Not sending a meme. Not a “Yo dude.” But really talking.

He doesn’t know.

His mind automatically wanders on. The chemistry test. That completely insane exam that you were the only one to pass. The talent show, where you suddenly surprised everyone. The fun fair. The class trip.

All those moments when you were somehow always completely out of place and yet better than everyone else. And then he remembers how you slowly got better after that. Really better. Not happy or healthy or anything like that, but more stable. Out more. Around people more. Less of that dead look in your eyes.

And now?

Now you look worse than you did back then during your absolutely shitty phase.

Karasu exhales sharply through his nose once more. His eyes narrow slightly, this time not because of Kickin, but because of you.

Because there’s something else. Something nobody here knows.

You’ve got damn superpowers.

The thought sounds completely absurd even in his own head, even now. And yet it’s true. You could theoretically do anything. Tear people apart. Throw things through the air. Defend yourself. Destroy every single person here, if you really wanted to.

But instead, you let yourself be pushed around.

Karasu doesn’t get it. Honestly, he doesn’t. He thinks about you, about how you look, how you talk, how you always seem like you’d rather apologize for even existing.

That slightly downcast face. The headphones. The dark circles under your eyes. The way you sometimes look like you’re physically present but mentally miles away.

And yet… yet something about you sticks with him. Maybe that’s exactly why.

Meanwhile, even more people are gathering behind the situation in the hallway. The crowd is slowly growing, at first cautiously, then more and more obviously. Some stop right in their tracks, others pretend they’re just passing by by chance.

Bobby has also shown up by now, along with Crafty and Picky.

Bobby immediately looks back and forth between Karasu and Kickin, her eyes wide with interest, almost alarmed. She realizes right away that this isn’t just normal banter anymore. Her arms slowly cross in front of her chest as she tries to figure out who’s going to lose it first.

Crafty, on the other hand, already seems nervous. As usual, really. Her fingers cling to the sleeve of her hoodie, her gaze darting restlessly through the crowd as if she’d rather just disappear right back into it. She hates situations like this. The noise. The tension. People who suddenly turn aggressive.

Picky’s gaze remains fixed on Karasu, analyzing, cautious. She knows him well enough to see that something is different here. That he isn’t just having a discussion.

And in the midst of all this chaos, Karasu and Kickin continue to face off.

“Listen, Kickin, I get what you mean, honestly…” Karasu’s voice remains controlled, even though he can feel that by now, probably every single student in this damn hallway is listening to him.

His gaze remains fixed on Kickin, steady, attentive, almost warning. “A lot has happened, really, and we can talk about it. I mean, really—”

“You want to talk about it?” Kickin interrupts him immediately. He draws out the word “talk” strangely, mockingly, almost with disgust, as if the very thought of it were ridiculous. “Do you know what I want to talk about?”

Karasu doesn’t answer right away. He just looks at him.

Next to Kickin, Hoppy suddenly takes a small step forward. Her eyes widen slightly, not dramatically, but enough that you can tell even she is slowly realizing that this is heading in a direction no one can control anymore.

And Karasu… Karasu is confused for a brief moment. Though “confused” isn’t really the right word for it. It’s more like that uncomfortable feeling just before an accident. That knowledge that something is about to be said that can’t be taken back.

Because there are many things Kickin could talk about.

And there are some things Karasu definitely doesn’t want to hear in the middle of a public place.

The murmuring around them grows louder. People are whispering to each other, now openly turning around, just stopping in their tracks. Some already have their phones half out, just out of reflex, because everyone senses that something is about to escalate.

“I’d love to talk about how you won the talent show!” Kickin’s voice gets louder, more aggressive, each word coming out harder than the one before. “Or the drinking game at the after-party! Or how your little weirdo suddenly hit everything at the fun fair—!”

Karasu’s expression shifts slightly.

“Or better yet,” Kickin takes half a step closer, his face contorting into that arrogant, almost disgusting smirk, “how your little faggot friend imagined he could fi—”

Kickin has quick reflexes.

Years of sports, training, athletics—all of that has shaped his body, made him fast, explosive, confident. It’s part of why girls are into him, why he moves as if every space automatically belongs to him.

His ego has been fed for years—by attention, by success, by people who have told him time and again just how good he is.

But that’s exactly why Kickin never expected Karasu to actually strike.

Not here. Not in front of everyone. Not without warning.

The punch comes brutally fast. No big movement beforehand, no typical wind-up, nothing. Just pure force.

Karasu’s fist hits Kickin squarely in the face. A dull, sickening thud echoes through the hallway, loud enough to instantly silence all the murmuring. Kickin’s head is jerked to the side, his body immediately loses its balance, crashing into the wall behind him, while several people recoil in shock.

And for a single moment, it is completely silent.

Kickin doesn’t move right away. He just stands there, half-leaning against the wall, his head slightly bowed, as if his brain hasn’t quite processed what just happened. Slowly, he looks up at Karasu again.

And in his eyes, there is no trace left of that arrogant, carefree smirk.

Only shock.

Not even because of the pain. But because of the fact that Karasu really hit him.

In front of everyone.

For a brief moment, he just stares at him, almost in disbelief, as if some rule of the world had stopped working.

“Karasu, have you completely lost your mind—?!” Hoppy is the first to find her voice again. She immediately pushes off the wall and takes a step forward, her eyes wide open.

At the same time, another voice echoes through the hallway.

“HEY! BREAK IT UP RIGHT NOW!” Some professor comes running from the other end of the hallway, loud enough that several students immediately step back.

But at that very moment, Kickin strikes back.

Karasu doesn’t even see the punch coming. Just movement. Then pain explodes on his cheek. His head is jerked to the side, his ear rings immediately, and before he can even catch his balance, Kickin has already grabbed him by the collar.

“YOU LITTLE SON OF A BITCH!” Kickin’s voice is almost breaking with rage.

And then everything happens way too fast.

Karasu strikes back. Kickin does too. Fists hit faces, shoulders, ribs. Neither of them fights clean, neither thinks. They aren’t boxing like professional fighters, but like two people who’ve hated each other for weeks and have finally found a reason.

Kickin’s punches hurt. Really hurt.

Karasu immediately realizes why this guy has been training for years. Kickin strikes fast, aggressively, without pause, and every time a fist connects, it feels like something flickers briefly in his head.

But Karasu doesn’t stop.

He can’t take it anymore.

Everything comes flooding back at once. Your situation. The last few months. Kickin’s comments. The feeling that something about you is getting worse and worse, and no one but him really notices.

“YOU’RE JUST HANGING OUT WITH FREAKS NOW!” Kickin hits him on the shoulder again, trying to push him back against the wall. “PITIFUL!”

Karasu rams his elbow into his chest.

“SHUT THE HELL UP!”

Complete chaos breaks out around them. People are screaming all at once; some are backing away, others are actually trying to get closer.

Hoppy grabs Kickin by the arm and pulls with all her might. “KICKIN, STOP IT!”

Crafty looks panicked, completely overwhelmed; her voice trembles. “S-Stop! Please stop—!”

Picky tries to pull Karasu away, but he immediately breaks free again.

And Bobby—

Bobby doesn’t even look annoyed or surprised anymore.

But genuinely frightened.

Kickin hits Karasu right in the mouth again. The taste of blood. Instantly.

Karasu strikes back, harder this time, and both of them crash into several lockers, causing metal to clang loudly throughout the entire hallway.

“YOU GUYS ARE COMPLETELY CRAZY!” someone yells from somewhere.

But none of it really registers with Karasu.

His head is hot. Loud. Full.

He hears only fragments. Voices. Screams. Insults.

“That little freak of a friend of yours—!”

A blow.

“You’ve become just as embarrassing as he is—!”

A blow.

Suddenly, someone grabs Karasu’s arm from the side. Firmly. Pulls him back.

And in that moment, he just reacts. Without thinking.

His fist shoots out to the side and hits someone right in the face.

A scream. Not loud. Not aggressive. More like shocked.

And it is precisely this sound that brings him back to reality for a split second.

Karasu turns his head.

And sees Miss Delight.

For a moment, no one moves.

The teacher is half on the floor, half leaning against one of the lockers, one hand covering her face, while blood runs between her fingers and drips onto her clothes. Not much. But enough. Enough that the entire hallway suddenly looks completely different.

Karasu’s breath catches immediately.

The screaming around him becomes muffled, distant, almost as if someone were stuffing cotton wool into his ears. He can still hear voices—frantic, loud, panicked—but none of them really reach him.

Miss Delight slowly raises her other hand to her nose. Blood drips onto the floor.

And it is precisely this sight that hits him harder than any blow before.

Because it immediately reminds him of you.

Of the blood under your nose. Of your eyes. Of that completely broken way you’ve been looking lately, as if you’ve been falling apart inside for a long time.

Karasu’s gaze slowly drops to his own hands.

Blood.

Not just his. Not just Kickin’s.

Blood…

His chest rises and falls heavily, far too quickly, and slowly his adrenaline begins to subside, just enough for his mind to catch up and understand what has actually just happened here.

Kickin is still standing in front of him, breathing heavily, his lip split open, his face red with rage.

Next to him, Hoppy, completely tense.

Crafty looks like she’s about to cry.

Picky says something, but Karasu doesn’t really hear the words.

And Bobby… Bobby looks at him as if she’s never seen him before.

Not annoyed. Not interested. Not amused.

Frightened.

And that’s exactly what suddenly hits him right in the chest.

Because just a few minutes ago, he still wanted to seem cool. To be loud. Dominant. To be the guy who has everything under control.

And now?

Now everyone is standing around him, looking at him as if he were the problem. As if he were the dangerous one.

Karasu’s gaze slowly sweeps down the hallway. Students. Professors. People with cell phones. People whispering. People stepping back.

And for a brief, utterly repulsive moment, he suddenly understands you.

Not completely. Not really.

But enough.

Enough to realize how quickly people can change their perspective.

How quickly “the cool guy” suddenly becomes “the crazy one.”

“Karasu…” Bobby’s voice is quiet this time. Almost uncertain. “What… what’s actually wrong with you?”

The question hits him harder than Kickin’s fist.

Because Karasu has no answer.

He looks down at his hands again. Blood is running over his knuckles. His heart is still pounding like crazy, but at the same time, everything suddenly feels empty.

And somewhere deep in his mind, a thought surfaces that he immediately hates.

Maybe Kickin was right.

Maybe he really has become something he no longer recognizes.

Karasu slowly lifts his head again. Very slowly, as if the movement alone would take effort. The screaming around him still blurs into a single muffled sound, somewhere between panic, excitement, and that disgusting curiosity people suddenly develop as soon as violence breaks out somewhere.

His gaze wanders first to Kickin.

And for a split second, he doesn’t see Kickin.

He sees you.

Not really. Not physically. But that image in his head suddenly overlaps with it. The slightly slumped posture. The blood under the nose. That strange look in the eyes, half empty, half completely overwhelmed, as if his own mind couldn’t keep up anymore.

And suddenly Karasu understands something he absolutely doesn’t like: That you probably looked exactly like that while all those people stood around you and just watched.

Kickin wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, sees the blood, curses quietly to himself, but even his eyes look different now. No longer arrogant. No longer superior. But frantic. Overstimulated.

Karasu’s gaze wanders on.

Crafty.

She stands a little way behind the others, shoulders hunched, fingers clenched tightly into her sleeve. Her eyes dart nervously through the crowd, as if she expects something else to happen at any moment. That someone will scream again. That someone will strike again.

And once again, he thinks of you.

Of the time before.

Before you seemed completely numb. When you were just nervous. Anxious. Quiet. That feeling of always being out of place, of always looking as if you’d rather be invisible.

Then Hoppy.

And that hits him the hardest.

Because in her gaze, he recognizes himself. Not the Karasu he usually is. Not the loud one. Not the guy who always has a wisecrack ready.

But the Karasu of right now.

Overwhelmed.

Angry.

And at the same time, somehow lost.

Hoppy looks at him as if she’s trying to figure out whether she’s still on his side or not.

Then Bobby.

And with her, it’s different.

She suddenly reminds him of Boxy and Boogie at the same time. Not physically. But in the way she looks at him. That quiet analysis. That “What the hell just happened?” in her eyes.

Boxy would probably have exactly the same expression on his face, that confused, slightly disappointed look, while Boogie would probably just stay silent and watch as everything falls apart.

Karasu’s chest heaves heavily.

He’s thinking of you again.

About your face lately. How broken you look. How empty. How you’ve withdrawn further and further, and no one really did anything about it. Not even him.

More students are gathering in the hallway now. The crowd is growing, voices getting louder, professors pushing through the crowd, someone arguing frantically in the background, several people talking over each other at once. Some are looking at Miss Delight, others at Kickin, but most at Karasu.

And this feeling suddenly drives him crazy.

Those looks.

As if he were the problem now.

Karasu exhales sharply and heavily. A sound almost like a growl. His hands are still trembling slightly from the adrenaline, blood sticks to his fingers, to his sleeve, and for a moment everything feels unreal. As if he were standing next to himself, watching someone else’s life completely crash and burn.

Then he hears a voice.

“Enough.”

Not loud.

But sharp enough that silence falls immediately nonetheless.

Karasu turns his head to the side. At the same time as Kickin.

Miss Delight stands there among the students, one hand still pressed against her bleeding nose. Her eyes look not just angry, but genuinely shaken. Not just by the brawl. But by what she has just seen.

Her gaze shifts back and forth between the two of them.

“You two,” she says slowly, clearly, every syllable full of control, even though you can hear she’s still breathing heavily herself. “Go. Immediately. To the university administration.”

Karasu doesn’t answer. Neither does Kickin.

For a moment, the two just stand there, breathing heavily, blood on their faces, surrounded by stares, whispers, and that uncomfortable silence that arises when suddenly no one knows what the right thing to say is.

Then Kickin is the first to move. He presses his tongue against his split lip, grimaces briefly in pain, and turns around without a word.

Karasu follows a few seconds later.

The hallway slowly parts before them; students step aside, some immediately, others hesitantly, but no one blocks their path. No one says a word. Even the people who were whispering just a moment ago now prefer to keep their mouths shut.

All you can hear are footsteps, quiet breathing, and somewhere in the distance, the hum of the lights above them.

Hoppy runs after Kickin, still tense, while Bobby simply stands still and looks back at Karasu. Crafty avoids his gaze completely. Picky says something quietly to a professor, but Karasu isn’t listening. His head is still buzzing.

And while all this is happening, something else is watching the scene.

Among the upper sections of the hallway, hidden between pipes, shadows, and the dark areas near the ceiling, a figure stands completely motionless. So motionless that no one would even perceive it as a person.

Long, fake black hair falls quietly downward. The white face of the mask looks almost lifeless, smooth, cold, expressionless. Where normal eyes would be, there is only a single horizontal slit running along the mask.

And right in the middle of it—

A single glowing red eye.

It observes everything.

The small vertical slits at the bottom of the mask emit a faint mechanical sound. Almost like a broken speaker. Then the figure speaks softly to itself.

“Analysis… updated.”

The voice doesn’t sound human. Not even artificial in the usual sense. More like something in between. Distorted. Mechanical. Each syllable slightly offset, as if several pitches were layered on top of one another.

The red eye focuses on Kickin first.

“Kickin Chicken. Emotionally unstable. Aggression patterns confirmed. Probability of survival… low.”

Then the gaze slowly shifts to Karasu. A brief electronic click sounds.

“Karasu. Protective instinct conspicuously high. Potential for violence… rising.” The figure tilts its head slightly to the side. “Possible future disruptive factor.”

For a brief moment, the red eye remains completely still. Then a soft hum sounds within the mask.

“But irrelevant.”

The voice stops.

The eye scans the crowd again.

“Y/N… not located.”

The red light in the slit flickers slightly.

“Anomaly confirmed.”

The figure’s fingers move slightly. A metallic click. Almost as if it were thinking.

“Combat data from lab sector remains incomplete. Probability of successful survival against experimental unit… Statistically impossible…”

“To increase the likelihood of victory, every available opportunity must be exploited.”

---

You wake up.

And before you can even think straight, before your vision clears or your brain realizes where you are, you practically jump out of bed. Your heart immediately starts racing, your body reacts faster than your mind, and, almost in a panic, you stumble straight into the bathroom.

You grab the sink, breathing heavily, and slowly lift your head to the mirror.

For a brief moment, you see only yourself. Messy hair. Dark circles under your eyes. A tired face.

Then you realize it.

This isn’t your bathroom.

Your gaze slowly wanders around. Toothbrushes. Skincare products. Small bottles and creams, neatly arranged. Things that definitely don’t belong to you. It smells different here. Not sterile like the lab. Not empty like your room. But warm. Calm. Like her.

CatNap…

And right at that moment, the memory of last night hits you.

Not like a clear movie, but in fragments. Closeness. Warmth. Her voice. Her hands. That feeling of being so close to someone that for a moment everything else disappears.

Her naked form… your racing heart… the moaning… the sensation…

Your face immediately flushes. Reflexively, you hold a hand up to your face and yet continue to stare into the mirror, as if you need to check whether it all really happened.

You actually did it.

You’re here. In a girl’s bathroom… CatNap’s… After a night with her. And the craziest part isn’t even that.

It’s that you don’t feel completely worthless right now.

Normally, your head would be full of doubt. Full of self-loathing. Full of thoughts about what you did wrong or why none of this can be real anyway. But right now, there’s… calm.

You exhale slowly and suddenly notice that you’re holding yourself up straight. That your shoulders aren’t completely slumped. That you’re not immediately judging yourself in the mirror.

It’s just a tiny bit of self-confidence. Barely noticeable, really.

But to you, it feels enormous.

Slowly, you open the door and step out of the bathroom again.

The light outside is soft, muted by the rainy sky beyond the windows. The room is quiet, except for the soft sound of her breathing.

And then you see her.

CatNap is still in bed, half under the covers, calm, peaceful, completely relaxed. Her dark hair lies slightly scattered on the pillow; headphones are somewhere next to her, probably having fallen there after the two of you simply fell asleep at some point.

Her face looks so incredibly soft in her sleep, almost vulnerable, completely different from the quiet distance she usually puts between herself and other people.

You just stand there and look at her.

And for the first time in a long, long time, your head doesn’t feel like a prison.

Not empty. Not broken. Not full of screams and memories.

Just… calm.

After everything that’s happened. After the blood. The monster. The experiments. The dead. The weeks of fear, loneliness, and that slow breaking inside you…

you’re standing here now, smiling.

She moves slowly in bed. At first barely noticeable, a soft rustle in the fabric of the blanket, then she slowly lifts her head. Her eyes open sluggishly, still half-asleep, unfocused from waking up, until she finally sees you.

And immediately her expression changes.

That small, honest smile appears on her face, still tired, still soft from sleep, but completely genuine. For a moment, neither of you says anything. You just look at each other, and that look alone feels like more closeness than you ever thought possible.

“You’re really still here…” she murmurs softly, her voice hoarse from sleep.

You laugh softly through your nose. “Where else would I be?”

CatNap pulls the blanket a little closer to herself, not really out of shame, more out of reflex, and looks briefly to the side before turning back to you. You can tell she can hardly believe what has happened.

Last night probably feels like both hours and a single moment to both of you at the same time.

“It was all kind of… surreal,” she finally says softly.

You nod slowly.

And immediately the memories come flooding back. Her hands on your shirt. That cautious, nervous drawing closer at the beginning, as if neither of you were sure if this was even real.

The tremor in her voice, that constant glancing away and then looking back again. Two people who both had no idea how to handle so much closeness, and that’s exactly why it was real.

Not perfect. Not polished like in some movies.

But awkward, emotional, intense.

And that’s exactly why it was beautiful.

Your face flushes slightly as you think about how, at some point, you just completely lost yourselves in each other. How you both eventually stopped thinking. No more fear of doing something wrong, no more worrying about how you look or come across. Just warmth. Intimacy. The feeling of finally being held by someone without having to feel ashamed of it.

CatNap buries her face halfway in the blanket and laughs softly, nervously. “I still can’t believe that really happened.”

“To be honest, neither can I,” you admit right away.

She looks at you again, this time for a little longer. “And I find it even harder to believe that I…” She pauses briefly, then grins, looking slightly embarrassed. “…slept with the only person on this planet… with superpowers.”

Your face immediately turns much redder.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” you murmur, embarrassed, and briefly cover your face with your hand.

CatNap really laughs this time. Not loudly. Not exaggeratedly. But that quiet, honest laugh that you’ve come to recognize instantly.

She slowly sits up, the blanket slips down a bit, her hair is still completely tousled from sleep, and yet she looks more beautiful right now than anything else you’ve ever seen.

“It was wonderful,” she says suddenly, calmly. Her eyes remain fixed on yours. “And I’m glad… that you’re here.”

You swallow briefly.

After everything that’s happened. After the blood. The fight. The monster. Death. The weeks of loneliness, fear, and that feeling of slowly falling apart inside…

you’re here now.

Together.

Two people who have both looked into the darkness of their own lives far too often and yet somehow ended up right here.

And for the first time in a long time, life doesn’t feel like something you just have to endure.

“Me too,” you reply quietly.

And just at that moment, your phone suddenly rings.

The ringtone cuts through the quiet atmosphere of the room. You both immediately look to the side at the same time, straight at the display lighting up on the nightstand.

CatNap slowly reaches for her phone, still half-asleep, while you just sit there and suddenly feel that nervous knot in your stomach again.

Just a moment ago, everything had been calm. Warm. Safe. And now, that ringtone alone feels as if the outside world has decided to catch up with you again.

She unlocks her phone, looks at the screen—and her expression changes instantly.

Not dramatically. Not loudly.

But you see it right away.

Her eyes widen. The tiredness vanishes from her face in an instant. She reads something, then again, more slowly this time.

“That can’t be true…” she murmurs softly.

Your body tenses up immediately. “What’s going on?”

CatNap slowly looks up at you.

“Karasu.”

The name alone is enough.

Something tightens in your chest. Images flash through your mind, all at once, way too fast. Karasu, laughing loudly as he walks beside you. Karasu, making stupid comments.

Karasu, defending you even when you didn’t want him to.

Your best friend.

Or at least he used to be.

Because at the same time, another thought hits you. How long it’s actually been since you’ve really talked. Since the internship. Since Playtime Co. Since everything. At some point, you just stopped replying to messages properly.

At some point, “tomorrow” suddenly turned into weeks.

CatNap glances at her phone again.

“He got into a fight with Kickin.”

The sentence hits you like a slap in the face.

“What…?” That’s all you can manage to say at first.

Your mind needs a moment to even process the words properly. Karasu and Kickin. Fought. Not argued. Not yelled at.

Fought...

You immediately try to figure out how that could have happened. Karasu has known Kickin for ages. The two were friends. Not perfect friends, but friends nonetheless.

And then you notice something else.

The way CatNap looks at you.

There’s something else in her gaze. Something she doesn’t say outright. Almost as if she’s waiting for you to figure it out yourself.

And suddenly, your mind connects the dots.

Kickin…The last few weeks…The comments…The remarks…The Fun Fair…The bullying…

Your gaze drops briefly, then you slowly lift it back to her.

And there’s more exhaustion than surprise in your voice as you ask quietly:

“They were fighting… because of me, weren’t they?”

CatNap doesn’t answer right away.

She grips her phone a little tighter, just looks at you for a few seconds, and that silence alone confirms everything for you.

“Kickin must have… said things about you,” she finally says calmly. “Not just ordinary insults. It seems… it escalated.”

Of course… of course now…

Of course this has to happen now, too.

Your gaze wanders briefly out the window. Rain is slowly running down the glass; outside, everything looks gray and blurry, and suddenly you feel guilty again.

Not exactly. But that familiar feeling is coming back—that vague sense that everything gets worse as soon as people have anything to do with me.

“Shit…” you murmur quietly.

CatNap immediately moves a little closer to you. Not frantically. Not exaggeratedly. Just calmly.

“Hey.” Her voice is soft. “It’s not your fault.”

You just look at her for a few seconds. You want to believe her. Really. But in your head, everything now feels like it’s going to automatically fall apart the moment you become part of it.

People are fighting over you. People are dying around you. Monsters suddenly really exist. And you yourself… you don’t even know exactly what you are anymore.

Your gaze drops briefly to your hands.

Then you exhale slowly.

“What am I even supposed to do now… about the lab?” Your voice sounds tired. Not panicked. Not loud. Just exhausted. “What the hell am I even supposed to do now?”

CatNap immediately looks at you more seriously. You can tell that her mind is trying to piece everything together somehow.

“I don’t understand what’s going on anyway,” she mutters quietly and looks back at her phone. “If something really big had happened… the university would have sent something by now.”

She frowns slightly.

“I mean… an entire neighboring building on campus was practically destroyed.” She says the sentence slowly, almost as if she can hardly believe it herself. “By a huge… monster.”

She falls silent for a moment. Then she looks at you again.

“Which was then killed by my boyfriend.”

Your face immediately flushes again.

“Please stop saying that like it’s no big deal…”

A small smile flits across her face, but quickly disappears as reality sets in again.

She glances out the window briefly. “Wait a minute…” Her eyes narrow slightly as she thinks. “If Karasu and Kickin got into a fight at the university… then the others are obviously still in class.”

The sentence makes your stomach sink a little.

That feeling comes on suddenly.

That sickening, heavy pull deep in your stomach. Like right before a roller coaster. Like right before something goes completely wrong and your body already knows it, even though your mind is still lagging behind.

A bead of sweat slowly trickles down your forehead.

“We should probably go anyway,” you say quietly.

CatNap looks at you immediately. “What?”

“To the university. To the labs.” You exhale heavily through your nose. “If we just disappear or hide, it’ll only make everything more suspicious.”

You realize yourself how absurd the sentence sounds.

As if “conspicuous” is even a relevant word anymore after last night…

CatNap glances briefly at the time on her phone and swallows slightly.

“Class started ages ago.”

The feeling in your stomach grows stronger.

Not just fear. Not just panic.

More like the feeling that something is shifting. That things have already happened while the two of you were here. That the world out there hasn’t stood still just because you found a few hours of peace.

You slowly wipe your forehead.

“I have this feeling…” you finally murmur.

CatNap immediately moves closer to you. Very calmly. No fuss. No questions.

She gently rests her forehead against yours.

Her eyes close slightly.

“I know,” she whispers.

And that’s exactly what hits you harder than anything else.

Not because she has a solution. Not because she can tell you that everything will be okay.

But because she understands you.

Really understands.

You just sit there like that for a brief moment. Forehead to forehead. Calm. Silent. As if you’re both trying to hold on to these last seconds of normalcy before you have to go back to reality.

But eventually, you move anyway.

You get dressed. Slowly. Quietly. Almost automatically. The rain outside has let up, but the sky remains gray, heavy, oppressive.

And as you get ready to go back to the university, neither of you has any idea what really awaits you there.

---

Kickin Chicken had probably never felt so uncomfortable sitting there.

Of course, there was that one time back then when he sat on the bed next to his parents and they explained the story about the bees and the flowers to him with the utmost, cringingly serious expression.

And of course there was that incident in high school when he had to sit in the teachers’ lounge after beating up a boy so badly that the boy couldn’t even show up for class the next day.

Or that time when he and Karasu had skipped class and got caught by the very teacher they were supposed to have right after.

Right there with Karasu…

Which is kind of ironic, considering that this very same guy is sitting next to him again now.

Only this time, he’s not laughing. Not grinning. Not as a friend.

But after the two of them had tried to beat the crap out of each other.

Kickin leans back slightly and stares up at the ceiling, annoyed. His jaw hurts. His lip is split open. His ribs feel like someone hit them with a hammer, and honestly, Karasu probably tried to do just that.

But this still feels worse.

Because this isn’t a normal detention.

Not like the detention Kickin is used to from school.

Back then, there was always DogDay. Class representative. The teachers’ favorite. The girl who somehow managed to defuse any situation, even when Hoppy and he had completely screwed up.

She just had to talk to the teachers for a few minutes, and suddenly everything was “a misunderstanding.”

But now?

Now everything feels different.

DogDay has been mentally somewhere else entirely for weeks anyway. Just like Bubba. Both seem like they’re constantly thinking about something they don’t want to tell anyone else.

And the Smiling Critters…

Kickin isn’t even sure anymore if the group really still exists.

They used to be everywhere together. Loud. Annoying. Flashy.

Now?

Now it all feels like separate pieces slowly falling apart.

And the worst part is that he can’t even say exactly when it happened.

Kickin slowly glances to the side.

Karasu is sitting right next to him.

How the hell did we end up here?

Months ago, the two of them would probably have been getting into some kind of stupid trouble together, commenting on girls, or insulting each other during some kind of competition.

And now?

Now they’re sitting next to each other in silence after seriously trying to beat the other one into the hospital.

Kickin looks ahead again.

The room is huge… Way too huge…

High ceiling. Long rows of empty seats. The hum of the lights above them sounds almost unnaturally loud because no one else is in here. No class. No students. No sounds except for occasional breathing and the faint creaking of the chairs.

They’re sitting here all alone.

And that’s exactly what makes it even more uncomfortable.

Because as long as other people were there, Kickin could stay angry. Stay loud. Pretend he didn’t care about anything.

But now?

Now there’s only Karasu sitting next to him.

And the silence between them feels almost worse than the fight itself.

Again and again, Kickin’s gaze drifts slightly to the left. Not for long. Not conspicuously. Just for a moment.

And almost every single time, Karasu looks over at exactly the same second.

These brief eye contact moments only make everything more awkward.

Neither of them says a word. Both look away immediately, as if they’d caught each other doing something, and yet it keeps happening. That brief glance upward. That direct meeting of eyes. That immediate looking away afterward.

The huge room makes it even worse. The hum of the lights. The empty rows. That feeling that every breath sounds way too loud.

Kickin leans back further and stares at the ceiling.

And of course, he’s thinking of you again.

He hates that.

He hates how often he has to think of you now.

Because in his eyes, you’re not supposed to be anyone special. Just some small, weird guy with no self-confidence. One of those people who always look like they’re about to apologize for even being there.

And yet, somehow, you always end up on top.

The chemistry exam…

Bubba should have gotten that internship. Not you.

Bubba was smarter. More logical. The guy is practically a walking calculator. But suddenly you come out of nowhere and are the only one to pass that crazy test.

Then the talent show.

To this day, Kickin doesn’t understand why you won at all. Honestly, he doesn’t. He still remembers exactly how he stood there, waiting for someone to finally realize how weird it all actually was.

But instead, you won.

And then the afterparty.

Karasu against him and Bubba in beer ping-pong. Should’ve been a sure thing. But somehow he completely humiliated them both.

And the fun fair…

Kickin’s jaw tenses slightly the moment the thought crosses his mind.

You made him look like a complete idiot in front of Hoppy there. Not even with some cool one-liner. Not even because you were stronger.

But simply by standing him up. As if all his blabbering just didn’t interest you.

And that’s exactly what drives him crazy to this day.

Because deep down, Kickin doesn’t understand one thing:

How can someone like you win?

You seem weak. Insecure. Nervous. And yet, suddenly, everything goes your way.

For a brief moment, Karasu and Kickin’s eyes really meet this time.

Not just that brief glance away. But truly.

And Kickin suddenly thinks of Hoppy.

About how she looked at him earlier. Not just angry. Not annoyed. But disappointed.

And that’s exactly what’s slowly gnawing at his mind right now.

Because he actually likes her. Really.

For a long time. Much longer than he would ever admit.

But every single time he thinks about telling her, something inside him tightens up. So he makes jokes. Flirts half-ironically with random girls. Plays the fool.

Because that’s easier.

And now he remembers the look in her eyes during the fight, and suddenly he doesn’t know anymore whether he’d rather scream or just punch a wall.

The seconds drag on.

Until Karasu finally breaks the silence.

“Your punches really hurt, you son of a bitch.”

Kickin blinks briefly, surprised.

And against his will, he almost has to laugh.

“Yeah?” he mutters dryly, lightly wiping his split lip. “You don’t exactly hit like a girl either…”

Karasu tilts his head back slightly and stares at the ceiling as well.

“I didn’t hit Miss Delight on purpose.”

“No shit.”

Silence again. But this time, a different kind. Not quite as hostile anymore.

More like… broken.

Kickin slowly looks back over at Karasu.

“You completely lost it over that guy.”

Karasu’s expression changes slightly right away. Not aggressive. But alert.

“Watch how you talk about him.”

Kickin clicks his tongue softly.

And right then, he suddenly notices something that annoys him:

Karasu is serious.

Not that typical “we’re colleagues” talk. Not some pity thing.

He really means it.

And that’s exactly what Kickin doesn’t understand.

He leans back further in his chair, briefly crosses his arms, and looks up at the ceiling again, as if the answer were written there somewhere. But the longer he thinks about it, the less sense it makes in his head.

Karasu could hang out with anyone.

With athletes. With popular people. With some girls who fawn over him. With guys who are just as loud and aggressive as he is.

But instead, he’s almost beating the crap out of himself because of you.

Because of you.

Kickin doesn’t get it.

Because in his world, people work differently. People team up with people who bring them something. Status. Fun. Attention. Strength. Anything.

But you?

You walk around with headphones on, avoid people, barely speak, always seem like you’re on the verge of mentally breaking down—and yet, somehow, people still stand by you.

Karasu snorts softly through his nose, as if he already senses what Kickin is thinking.

And that’s exactly why Kickin eventually just asks straight out:

“What’s so special about him, anyway?” His voice sounds annoyed. Not aggressive this time. More like genuinely frustrated. “Seriously. I don’t get it.”

Karasu looks at him briefly.

Then he leans back a little too.

“He doesn’t have to be anything special.”

Kickin raises his eyebrows slightly.

Karasu shrugs. “He’s my coworker.”

Kickin immediately wants to make some stupid comment. Something about whether the two of them are secretly together or whether Karasu has just gone completely soft.

The remark is practically on the tip of his tongue.

But then he really looks at Karasu.

And he stops.

Because Karasu doesn’t seem embarrassed. Not insecure. Not as if he’s defending himself.

But completely determined.

As if he’d get into a fight ten more times without hesitation if it were about you.

And suddenly, that stupid remark feels somehow… wrong.

Kickin looks away again.

Because deep down, he suddenly realizes something that honestly makes him nervous:

There was never anyone who would have stood up for him like that.

Not really.

Sure, people liked him. Girls found him attractive. He had friends. Attention. Status.

But this kind of genuine support?

That “I’ll fight for you, even if it makes my own life more complicated”?

He never had that.

And even worse:

He doesn’t even know if there’s anyone he’d stand up for in the same way.

The realization unsettles him.

“My group is just falling apart completely,” Kickin mutters suddenly at some point.

Karasu glances over briefly, but says nothing at first.

And that’s exactly what prompts Kickin to keep talking.

“Things used to be simpler.” He lets out a dry chuckle. “Hoppy and I screwed up. DogDay took care of it. Bubba was the nerd. Everything was easy.”

He shakes his head slightly.

“And then all this crap comes along.”

The chemistry exam.

The talent show.

College.

Playtime.

“Bubba barely talks anymore.” Kickin looks down at his hands. “DogDay acts like she’s thinking about something all the time, something she won’t tell anyone. Hoppy gets aggressive over every little thing.”

He clicks his tongue in annoyance.

“And then suddenly there’s him.”

Karasu doesn’t say a word.

Kickin realizes himself how absurd that sounds.

“He just shows up, and suddenly everything changes.”

The words hang in the air for a moment.

Then Kickin laughs bitterly.

“And the worst part is…” He runs his hand over his face. “I don’t even think I’m really mad at him anymore.”

Karasu looks him straight in the eye now.

“What, then?”

Kickin doesn’t answer right away. Because he has to figure out for himself what exactly is eating at him.

“Maybe…” His voice grows quieter. “Maybe it just bugs me that someone like him still manages to get ahead somehow.”

Karasu is silent for a few seconds. Then he exhales slowly.

“I get it.”

Kickin immediately looks over, slightly irritated. “What?”

Karasu shrugs slightly. “If anyone understands Kickin Chicken, it’s probably me.”

For the first time since the fight, Kickin can’t help but smile a little.

“Dude, shut up.”

Karasu grins back ever so slightly.

Not that exaggerated, loud grin he usually wears. But a smaller one. A genuine one. Almost weary.

And that’s exactly what slowly eases the tension between them.

Not completely relaxed. Too much has happened for that. Too many punches. Too many words. But at least they’re no longer sitting across from each other as if they’re about to knock each other’s teeth out again.

Kickin leans back a little further and stretches his neck briefly. “Still sickening that you actually hit me.”

Karasu shrugs. “You just really wanted to test how hard I can hit.”

“And you just had to test how well I can hit back.”

“Fair.”

For a moment, the two fall silent again.

Then Karasu glances slightly to the side.

“But honestly…” His voice softens. “If you really don’t want your group to fall apart completely, then stop pushing everyone away the moment things get serious.”

Kickin looks him straight in the eye.

Karasu runs his fingers through his hair briefly. “DogDay’s trying to keep everything together, Bubba’s probably been racking his brain for three weeks now, and I don’t know anything about Picky, Bobby, Crafty, or… CatNap… and Hoppy…” He pauses briefly. “Well.”

Kickin immediately blushes slightly. “What do you mean, ‘well’?”

Karasu grins even more broadly now.

“Dude.”

“What?!”

“Don’t mess with me.” Karasu leans slightly toward him. “I can see how you’re looking at her.”

Kickin just stares at him for a few seconds. Then he rolls his eyes in annoyance and looks away.

“Man, just shut your mouth.”

Karasu snorts softly.

And it’s exactly that laugh that eventually makes Kickin stop denying it completely.

“Yeah, okay, maybe… maybe I just like her.”

The sentence comes out much quieter than anything before it.

Almost uncomfortably honest.

“But I think she only sees me as a friend anyway.”

Karasu waves it off immediately. “Bullshit.”

Kickin immediately looks back over. “Huh?”

“You two are a perfect match.” Karasu says it as if it were obvious. “You’re both aggressive, annoying, and have some kind of screw loose.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Kickin can’t help but chuckle slightly.

Karasu then becomes serious again. “Try it anyway.”

Kickin looks at him silently for a moment. “Are you trying to get me in trouble for the fight, or what?”

Karasu tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling.

“Nah…” A brief shrug. “I just think we should forget about that shit.”

“Just forget it?”

“Dude, we’re guys.” Karasu grins slightly. “Guys just beat the crap out of each other sometimes and then act like nothing ever happened.”

Kickin stares at him for a moment. And then he actually smiles.

After that, the two of them keep talking. About girls. About relationships. About awkward situations from high school. For the first time in a long time, the conversation almost feels normal again.

Almost like it used to be.

And at some point, they both just stand up at the same time.

Kickin stretches briefly and looks toward the door. “You know what? Just skip it, like in the good old days?”

Karasu looks at him with a completely serious expression. “Skipping detention ordered by the university administration is something that’s going to really screw us over in the end.”

Kickin looks briefly disappointed.

Then that typical grin suddenly spreads across Karasu’s face.

“I don’t give a damn what they think.”

Kickin shakes his head slightly, laughing.

With that, the two of them set off. A few steps toward the exit, their shoes echoing through the huge, almost completely empty room.

But suddenly, they both stop at the same time.

Karasu slowly looks around.

The empty rows of seats. The vast expanse. No windows open. No other students. Not even a single professor.

“Why the hell did they even put us in here?” he mutters.

Kickin shrugs, but then he suddenly remembers something.

“Did you happen to notice the construction work on the Playtime lab building?”

Karasu furrows his brow slightly. “What do you mean?”

Kickin looks at him, confused.

“Bro… the building looks completely destroyed, for God’s sake.”

And at that very moment, something tightens in Karasu’s chest.

He immediately thinks of you.

The lab… Your internship…

His body reacts faster than his mind. A light sheen of sweat forms on his skin, and suddenly all he wants is to get out of here.

“Okay, Nah.” Karasu immediately quickens his pace toward the door. “We’re leaving right now—”

The door opens.

Slowly.

Metal squeaks softly.

But neither Karasu nor Kickin look directly at it; both are still half in conversation and half lost in their own thoughts.

And then they hear only the voice. Mechanical. Cold. Distorted.

“In order to improve the probability of victory… anything that can be exploited… must be exploited.”

The door is already open.

Not slowly opening. Not moving steadily.

But simply open.

And someone is standing right in front of it.

So much so that it takes Karasu’s brain a moment to even realize that there is a person standing right there in the middle of the entrance. A completely black silhouette in the light of the hallway behind it. Tall. Motionless. Almost unnaturally still.

Long black hair falls down the sides. The white face of the mask looks completely lifeless, smooth as porcelain, and in the middle of the horizontal slit, that single red eye glows.

It has been watching them the whole time.

Karasu and Kickin turn toward the door at the same time.

And immediately, the atmosphere in the entire room changes.

This thing doesn’t feel like a human. Not like any student. Not like a professor.

More like something that shouldn’t be here at all.

Kickin’s face instantly drains of color. “What the hell…”

The red eye focuses on him first. Then on Karasu.

A metallic click sounds inside the mask.

“Subjects located.”

The voice sounds off. Not just robotic. But as if several voices were speaking the exact same words at the same time, with a slight delay.

Karasu instinctively takes a small step back. Not out of fear alone. But because his body immediately senses that something is going completely wrong here.

Zero slowly raises his arm.

Very calmly.

Almost casually.

The black sleeves of his body barely move as he does so, and the red eye remains fixed on the two of them.

“Anything…”

A deep hum suddenly begins to fill the room.

The air changes. The floor vibrates slightly.

Karasu's eyes widen instantly.

“KICKIN—!”

“…that can be exploited…”

Zero slowly spreads the fingers of his outstretched hand. The red eye glows even brighter.

“…must be exploited.”

And then—

Explosion.

Not just a bang. But absolute destruction.

The entire room literally explodes from the inside out. Walls tear apart, windows shatter instantly, metal bends with a screech, and a gigantic shockwave shoots through the building.

From the outside, it looks as if part of the university is simply being torn apart.

Fire.

Dust.

Debris.

The entire side of the building bursts outward explosively, while concrete, glass, and steel are hurled through the air for miles.

---

You can’t believe it.

For a single moment, your brain just freezes.

You and CatNap have just arrived on campus; the rain has finally let up a bit, and students are walking around everywhere, completely oblivious, talking about lectures, exams, or some trivial crap—and then suddenly an explosion shatters the entire reality.

The blast ripples through the air with such force that you don’t just hear it—you feel it in your chest.

Part of the university building literally explodes outward.

Windows shatter simultaneously. Pieces of concrete are hurled through the air. A gigantic cloud of smoke shoots into the sky, while screams immediately fill the entire campus.

People are running. Others just stand there. Some are shouting names. Others just stare at the building, completely shocked.

And you?

You can’t move.

Your eyes are completely fixed on the explosion, while black smoke slowly rises from the destroyed area. For a brief moment, it all sounds muffled to you, almost as if your brain doesn’t want to fully process the situation.

But then the realization hits you.

The destruction. The violence. This kind of explosion…

It immediately reminds you of last night.

The monster. The lab. The fight.

Something is terribly wrong here.

You immediately feel that sickening sensation deep in your stomach again. That feeling that something much bigger has already begun and you’re right in the middle of it, whether you like it or not.

Screams echo across the campus. Sirens start wailing somewhere.

You slowly look to the left.

And you see CatNap.

The look on her face makes your blood run cold.

She doesn’t just look scared.

She’s scared. Really scared.

Her eyes are wide open, fixed entirely on the destroyed part of the building, while she takes a small step back almost unconsciously.

“What…” Your voice sounds hoarse. “What the hell was that…?”

But as you speak the words, your mind is already racing.

Karasu…Kickin… Brawl…

Your heart skips a beat for a moment.

What the hell is actually going on here?

You immediately turn completely toward CatNap.

“CatNap.” Your voice suddenly becomes more frantic. “Do you know what kind of room that is up there?”

She looks at you.

And you immediately see all the color drain from her face.

At first, her lips barely move.

Then she finally answers quietly:

“Kickin and Hoppy… used to end up there sometimes…” She swallows hard. And in her eyes, you already see the same realization as in yours. “That’s the room for… detention.”

Your body moves immediately. Not a second's hesitation.

You start sprinting.

Straight toward the building.

“Y/N—!” CatNap calls out to you immediately, her voice almost breaking with panic. “Wait—!”

But you can barely hear anything anymore.

Adrenaline surges through your entire body.

People are running away from the building—you’re running straight into it.

Past screaming students. Past smoke. Past shards of glass scattered all over the floor. Fire alarms are now blaring across the entire campus, but everything in your head is reduced to a single thought:

Please, not Karasu.

Please, not someone else again.

The building’s lobby is in complete chaos. Students are screaming in confusion, professors are trying to get people outside, somewhere someone is running bleeding into a wall, while multiple fire alarms blare simultaneously.

And yet you keep moving upward.

The stairs.

You take several steps at a time, your shoes nearly slipping on shards of glass; smoke is already drifting through the upper floors of the building and stinging your throat with every breath.

Your heart is pounding so hard against your chest that it hurts.

The images from last night won’t stop.

The monster.

The Compactor.

The blood.

Emily Carter.

The experiments.

And now this.

Of course it’s connected.

Of course it does…

You’re way past the point of convincing yourself that this is all just a coincidence. Playtime Co. is sick. Completely sick. People are dying. Monsters exist. Something has been going on behind closed doors here for a long time, and you’ve stumbled right into the middle of it.

Or maybe you were dragged into it.

You turn a corner and nearly collide with several students running down the stairs in a panic.

“RUN!” screams a boy with tears in his eyes. “THERE’S SOMETHING UP THERE—!”

You barely manage to dodge him and keep running.

Higher and higher. Closer and closer to the devastated area. The smoke is getting thicker.

And then suddenly you see Miss Delight.

She’s running frantically down the hallway, blood on her face, several other teachers behind her. Instantly, your body flinches instinctively, and you retreat behind a half-destroyed wall.

Not because you think she would harm you.

But because your brain is now reacting to everything as if it were a threat.

You’re breathing heavily. Too heavily. Your thoughts are racing.

This is too big. Way too big.

Last night, a monster in the lab… Today, an explosion right in the middle of the university…

And somewhere in between, there you stand. With blood on your hands. With powers no human should possess. With memories of a being who was once a student.

Your fingers tremble slightly.

What the hell is really going on here?

You briefly squeeze your eyes shut, force yourself to keep going, and finally walk down the last hallway.

And then you reach the spot. Or at least what’s left of it.

The entire area is completely destroyed.

The outer wall is practically gone. Smoke drifts through open steel beams, glass is scattered everywhere, and entire rows of seats have simply been ripped from the floor. The wind from outside blows through the rubble, while somewhere metal creaks slowly.

It looks like a war zone.

Your gaze darts frantically around.

Karasu.

Kickin.

Please—

Suddenly, someone grabs your arm roughly.

“Y/N—!”

Your body reacts immediately.

Not a second of thought. Just instinct.

Your ability literally explodes out of you.

The person is hurled with full force against the nearest wall. Concrete crashes loudly, dust flies through the air, and several loose metal parts rattle immediately.

Only then do you even realize what you’ve done.

Your eyes widen instantly.

Because there, amidst the dust and debris, Bubba is slumping against the shattered wall.

The impact still echoes through the destroyed room; small pieces of concrete trickle from the ceiling and disappear somewhere in the smoke. For a brief moment, Bubba coughs heavily, trying to catch his breath, but then he slowly lifts his head.

And suddenly—

he smiles.

Not relieved. Not friendly.

But rather that completely bewildered, almost euphoric smile of a person whose greatest theory has just been confirmed right before his eyes.

His glasses are askew, blood is trickling down his temple, and yet he looks at you as if none of that matters anymore.

“I knew it…” His voice trembles slightly. Not from fear. But from excitement. “Oh my God… I knew it.”

You don’t move.

Your arm is still hanging halfway outstretched in the air, while your brain takes several seconds to even realize what just happened.

The smoke continues to drift through the destroyed floor. Outside, people are screaming. Somewhere, alarms are blaring against the broken metal. But suddenly, it all seems far away.

Because something much worse is happening right now.

Someone knows your secret. Someone other than Karasu, Boxy, and CatNap.

Not by chance. Not through guesswork. Not through some weird theories.

But for real.

He saw it. He saw me.

Right before his eyes.

You immediately feel your stomach clench. Your hands start to tremble slightly as you slowly look down at the floor. Suddenly, everything in your head is spinning at once.

The fight against the monster.

The bodies.

Emily Carter.

Vincent.

The experiments.

CatNap.

Karasu.

And now Bubba.

Bubba slowly sits up a little, briefly clutching his ribs from the impact, yet still begins to grin again. That grin grows even wider the longer he looks at you.

“You really do have powers…” he murmurs, almost reverently. “Real telekinesis… that’s impossible… that’s biologically impossible…”

He snorts in disbelief and looks at you as if he’s just seen God himself.

“The chemistry exam…” His eyes widen slightly. “The talent show… the fun fair… oh my God, it all suddenly makes sense…”

You slowly take a step forward.

And right then, something changes in your gaze.

The shadow of your hair falls over your eyes as your breathing grows heavier. You can barely hear Bubba’s voice anymore. Everything suddenly blurs together.

Karasu.

Boxy.

Boogie.

DogDay.

CatNap.

The Suicide.

The monsters.

The blood on your hands.

The thing that was once a human.

And in the midst of all these thoughts, a single, cold consideration suddenly enters your mind.

If I just killed him now… would anyone even notice?

The room is destroyed. People are dying everywhere. The university is sinking into chaos.

You could just do it. Your arm slowly rises again. Not frantically. Not emotionally. Slowly. Almost frighteningly calm.

And Bubba…

notices.

His grin lingers for a second, but then he really looks into your eyes.

And for the first time since you’ve known him, Bubba seems genuinely nervous.

Because standing there is no longer the insecure boy he’s been analyzing for the past few months.

Standing there is someone who is seriously considering killing a person. Killing him.

You can literally feel the tension in the air. Small metal objects around you begin to tremble slightly, as if even your powers are reacting to your thoughts.

Bubba slowly holds his breath.

And at that very moment—

“You’re two steps too late… Y/N… L/N.”

You’re still looking down at Bubba, your arm outstretched, while your mind tries to make sense of what’s actually happening here.

Then you hear that mechanical click behind you.

“Interesting.”

The red eye glows through the smoke.

"So it's true... you're the one with the ability."

--

Wow... what just happened?

First, Kickin and Karasu are beating the crap out of each other because Kickin is dissing you and Karasu just can’t stand it. Then you and CatNap finally get together, officially and without excuses. And as if that weren’t enough, this Experiment shows up, attacks Karasu and Kickin first, and now has it in for you of all people.

So I’d say: Definitely one of the chapters where the most has happened so far. Of course, aside from the talent show and the fight against the Experiment in the last chapter.

And to be honest? Even I’m wondering right now how things are going to continue from here.

You and CatNap have just started a whole new chapter in your lives. Then you leave her standing outside, run in alone, and everything completely escalates within minutes.

In case anyone is dying to know: Yes, I will write the rest of your scene. Don’t worry. However, not in the second person, but rather from CatNap’s perspective and through her thoughts. I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.

After a long time, I guess I can say goodbye again.