The First Day Back

  The morning sun cast long shadows across the school grounds as Kayo approached the imposing gates of Shiritsu High School. Students streamed past him, their cheerful chatter and laughter creating a cacophony that felt alien after his days of hospital silence. Many walked in tight-knit groups, their uniforms crisp and identical to his own—though his right sleeve hung empty, pinned neatly at the elbow.

  "Look at them," The Smiler whispered in his mind. "So carefree. So vulnerable. They have no idea what walks among them."

  Kayo ignored the voice, adjusting his school bag on his shoulder. He'd practiced this moment mentally dozens of times during his restless night—how to carry his books, how to take notes, how to deflect the inevitable questions. Yet the reality of standing before the school gates made his stomach tighten with anxiety.

  "Kinoshita?"

  The voice came from behind him, hesitant and surprised. Kayo turned to find Nakamura Mei, his class representative, staring at him with wide eyes. Her gaze flickered briefly to his pinned sleeve before returning to his face.

  "You're back," she said, a tentative smile forming. "We didn't expect you so soon."

  Kayo forced a casual shrug. "No point sitting at home. I'd just fall behind."

  Mei adjusted her glasses, clearly uncomfortable. "That's... that's admirable. Everyone will be glad to see you."

  "Liar," The Smiler hissed. "She's already wondering if you're contagious. If misfortune might rub off on her."

  Kayo swallowed hard. "Will they? I imagine I'm quite the topic of gossip."

  Mei had the decency to blush. "People were worried. There are... stories going around. About what happened to you."

  "I bet," Kayo muttered, falling into step beside her as they passed through the gates.

  The courtyard seemed to quiet as they walked, conversations faltering as heads turned in his direction. Kayo felt dozens of eyes tracking his movement, heard the hushed whispers that followed in his wake.

  "Is that Kinoshita?" "What happened to his arm?" "I heard he was kidnapped by the yakuza..." "My cousin works at the hospital. She said his hand was completely severed..."

  "Fame at last," The Smiler chuckled darkly. "How does it feel to be the main attraction, Kayo?"

  "Shut up," Kayo muttered under his breath.

  "Pardon?" Mei asked, glancing sideways at him.

  "Nothing," he replied quickly. "Just talking to myself. Coping mechanism."

  The explanation seemed to satisfy her, though the look of concern lingered in her eyes. They reached the shoe lockers, and Kayo fumbled awkwardly with his outdoor shoes, struggling to balance on one foot while removing them with his remaining hand.

  "Let me help—" Mei began, reaching toward him.

  "No," Kayo said, more sharply than he intended. "Thank you, but I need to learn to do this myself."

  She withdrew her hand as if burned, nodding silently.

  After a moment of awkward silence, Mei spoke again, her voice artificially bright. "The teachers have arranged for someone to help with your notes. Ishida-kun volunteered."

  Kayo raised an eyebrow. Ishida Toru was one of the top students in their year—serious, quiet, and not someone Kayo had interacted with much before his accident.

  "That's... unexpectedly kind of him."

  "Or he seeks to study you like an insect under glass," The Smiler suggested. "Humans are rarely altruistic without cause."

  The hallways grew more crowded as they approached the classroom, the tide of students parting around Kayo like water around a stone. Some offered hesitant smiles or nods; others averted their eyes entirely. A few bold ones stared openly at his empty sleeve, curiosity and horror mingling in their expressions.

  At the classroom door, Kayo paused, suddenly overwhelmed. Through the windows, he could see his classmates inside—laughing, studying, living their normal lives. For a moment, the gulf between his existence and theirs seemed unbridgeable.

  "Having second thoughts?" The Smiler purred. "We could still leave. Find somewhere quiet where I could teach you to use my gifts properly."

  "I'm going in," Kayo said firmly, as much to himself as to the voice in his head.

  He slid the door open with his right hand, stepping into the abrupt silence that fell over the room. Twenty-eight pairs of eyes turned toward him, conversations dying mid-sentence. The classroom clock ticked loudly in the stillness, each second stretching painfully.

  Then, from the back of the room: "Kinoshita! You're back!"

  It was Tanaka Hiroshi, a boy Kayo had played basketball with occasionally. His genuine enthusiasm broke the tension, and suddenly several classmates were approaching, surrounding Kayo with a mixture of awkward greetings and carefully phrased questions.

  "We heard you were in hospital—" "Are you feeling better now?" "What happened to your—" "Is it true that—"

  Kayo raised his hand for silence, the gesture coming naturally despite everything. "Yes, I lost my hand. No, I don't want to talk about how it happened. Yes, I'm staying in school. No, I don't need to be treated differently."

  The bluntness of his response created another brief silence, broken by a low chuckle from the corner of the room.

  "Same old Kinoshita. Straight to the point."

  It was Ishida, his glasses reflecting the morning light as he observed the scene from his desk. Their eyes met briefly, and Ishida gave a small nod of what might have been approval.

  Kayo made his way to his seat, hyperaware of every gaze following him. As he settled awkwardly into his chair, struggling to arrange his bag and books one-handed, he heard a familiar voice that made his blood run cold.

  "Yo, Kinoshita. That's quite the fashion statement. Did your hand get tired of being attached to such a loser?"

  Moriyama Daisuke, self-appointed class alpha and longtime tormentor of anyone he perceived as weak. He leaned against a nearby desk, arms crossed, a cruel smile playing at his lips. The classroom went quiet again, students looking between Moriyama and Kayo with a mixture of apprehension and morbid curiosity.

  "Let me handle this one," The Smiler whispered eagerly. "Just three blinks and I'll show him what real fear tastes like."

  Kayo ignored both Moriyama and The Smiler, carefully extracting his textbook and pencil case from his bag.

  "What's wrong, Kinoshita? Cat got your tongue?" Moriyama pressed, moving closer. "Or are you deaf now too?"

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  "Leave him alone, Moriyama," Mei said, her voice unexpectedly firm. "Haven't you got anything better to do?"

  Moriyama's smirk widened. "Just welcoming our crippled friend back to school. Someone should tell him what everyone's been saying while he was gone."

  Kayo looked up slowly, meeting Moriyama's gaze directly. Something in his expression—perhaps the utter lack of fear, or the cold stillness in his eyes—made Moriyama falter slightly.

  "What do you want, Moriyama?" Kayo asked, his voice eerily calm.

  "That's it," The Smiler encouraged. "Show him the abyss behind your eyes. Let him glimpse what I've shown you."

  Moriyama recovered quickly, leaning forward to place both hands on Kayo's desk. "I want to know what happened to you, freak. Everyone's saying you got mixed up with yakuza or drug dealers. Is that it? Did they chop off your hand as punishment?"

  The classroom was utterly silent now, every student watching with held breath. Even the usual hallway noise seemed muted, as if the world itself was waiting for Kayo's response.

  For a moment, Kayo considered blinking three times. Considered letting The Smiler's hand phase through Moriyama's chest, grabbing his heart, showing him true terror. The temptation was almost overwhelming.

  Instead, he smiled—a small, cold smile that didn't reach his eyes.

  "You know what, Moriyama? You're right. I did lose my hand because I was stupid." Kayo's voice was soft but carried clearly in the silent room. "I reached for something dangerous without understanding the consequences. I touched something I shouldn't have, and it cost me."

  He tilted his head slightly, his gaze boring into Moriyama. "It taught me an important lesson, though. I learned that there are forces in this world that don't care about your social status or how tough you think you are. Forces that would snuff out your existence without a second thought."

  Kayo leaned forward slightly. "So when I look at you now, with your petty intimidation and schoolyard bullying, I can't help but feel a bit sorry for you. Because you have absolutely no idea what real fear is."

  Something in his tone—the absolute conviction, the hint of something ancient and cold beneath his words—made Moriyama straighten up, taking an unconscious step backward.

  "Whatever, freak," he muttered, but the bravado had drained from his voice. "You're not worth my time anyway."

  As Moriyama retreated to his own desk, Kayo became aware of the stares from his classmates—not pity now, but something closer to wary respect, perhaps even a touch of fear. Only Ishida seemed unaffected, watching the exchange with an analytical interest that made Kayo wonder what he saw.

  "Well played," The Smiler conceded, sounding almost impressed. "You didn't need my power after all. You're learning to inspire fear all on your own."

  The classroom door slid open, revealing their homeroom teacher, Saito-sensei. Her eyes immediately found Kayo, a mixture of surprise and concern crossing her features.

  "Kinoshita-kun! We weren't expecting you back so soon." She approached his desk while the other students hurriedly returned to their seats. "Your parents called, but I thought perhaps next week..."

  "I'm fine, Saito-sensei," Kayo assured her with a politeness he didn't entirely feel. "The doctors cleared me for regular activities."

  She nodded uncertainly. "If you're sure. Please don't hesitate to step outside if you need a moment. And Ishida-kun has volunteered to help with notes."

  "So I heard," Kayo replied, glancing toward Ishida, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

  As Saito-sensei returned to the front of the classroom to begin homeroom, Kayo felt a strange calm settle over him. The worst was over—the stares, the whispers, the confrontation. He had survived his re-entry into normal society.

  "Normal," The Smiler mused in his mind. "As if that word applies to you anymore. As if it ever will again."

  Throughout the morning classes, Kayo struggled with practical challenges—taking notes one-handed, managing textbooks, navigating crowded hallways between periods. But beneath these mundane difficulties lay a deeper adjustment: learning to exist in two worlds simultaneously.

  While his teachers lectured about algebra and classical literature, Kayo practiced subtly. In moments when attention was elsewhere, he would blink three times, activating his spiritual sight. The classroom would take on that shadowy edge, revealing occasional spirits drifting through walls or lingering in corners—lost souls unnoticed by his classmates.

  During mathematics, he focused on manifesting The Smiler's hand physically, concentrating until he could make it solid enough to hold a pencil for brief moments. The effort was exhausting, requiring intense concentration, but each small success fueled his determination.

  By lunchtime, rumors about his confrontation with Moriyama had spread throughout the school. As Kayo made his way to the roof—seeking solitude and space to practice without observation—he noticed students watching him with new expressions: curiosity, respect, and in some cases, a newfound wariness.

  "Your reputation grows," The Smiler observed as Kayo settled against the roof's chain-link fence, unwrapping his bento one-handed. "From victim to mysterious figure in a single morning. I'm almost proud."

  "I didn't come back to school for popularity," Kayo muttered, taking a bite of his mother's carefully prepared tamagoyaki.

  "Then why did you come back? To pretend at normalcy? To maintain the charade that you're still one of them?"

  Before Kayo could respond, the roof door opened. He turned, expecting perhaps Mei or another classmate, but instead found himself looking at Ishida Toru, the boy who had volunteered to help with his notes.

  "Kinoshita," Ishida acknowledged, approaching with measured steps. "Mind if I join you?"

  Kayo shrugged his right shoulder. "Free country."

  Ishida settled beside him, producing his own lunch with methodical precision. For several minutes, they ate in surprisingly comfortable silence, watching clouds drift across the sky.

  "This one is different," The Smiler observed, sounding intrigued. "Calmer. More centered. I wonder what darkness lurks behind those glasses."

  Finally, Ishida spoke. "That was impressive this morning. With Moriyama."

  Kayo glanced sideways at him. "I just told him the truth."

  "Did you?" Ishida adjusted his glasses thoughtfully. "It sounded like there was more to it than that."

  Kayo tensed slightly. "What do you mean?"

  "Just that your perspective seems... altered." Ishida chose his words with obvious care. "You speak like someone who has seen something the rest of us haven't."

  "Perceptive little human," The Smiler hissed. "Be careful with this one."

  "Near-death experiences change people," Kayo replied noncommittally.

  Ishida nodded, seemingly accepting this explanation. "The notes from your absence," he said, changing the subject as he extracted a neatly organized folder from his bag. "I've highlighted the key concepts and included practice problems with solutions."

  Kayo accepted the folder with genuine gratitude. "Thanks. That's... unexpectedly thorough."

  "I'm efficient," Ishida stated simply, as if this explained everything.

  As they continued eating, Kayo found himself curious about this classmate he'd barely noticed before. "Why did you volunteer to help me? We've hardly spoken before."

  Ishida considered the question seriously. "Everyone deserves the opportunity to learn, regardless of physical limitations. And..." he hesitated slightly, "I know what it's like to be the subject of unwanted attention."

  Something in his tone suggested personal experience, and Kayo didn't press further. Instead, he nodded his understanding.

  "Besides," Ishida added with the ghost of a smile, "you're the most interesting thing to happen at this school in years."

  "I like this human," The Smiler declared unexpectedly. "He sees beneath surfaces."

  As the lunch period came to an end, Ishida rose with the same precise movements that characterized everything he did. "If you need anything else, let me know. And Kinoshita..."

  "Yeah?"

  "Whatever really happened to you—whatever you saw that put that look in your eyes—it's your business. But if you ever want to talk about it, I'm a good listener."

  With that, he departed, leaving Kayo staring after him in confusion and mild alarm.

  "Well, well," The Smiler chuckled. "Perhaps school won't be as boring as I feared. That one bears watching."

  The afternoon classes passed in a blur of concentration and subtle practice. By the final period, Kayo could maintain The Smiler's hand in solid form for nearly a minute—though the effort left him mentally exhausted. He had also discovered that his spiritual sight revealed interesting anomalies: certain classrooms had higher concentrations of spirits, and some students seemed to have faint auras visible only through his enhanced perception.

  As the final bell rang, signaling the end of his first day back, Kayo felt a complex mixture of relief and accomplishment. He had survived. More than that, he had begun to adapt, to understand his new capabilities.

  "A productive first day," The Smiler conceded as Kayo gathered his belongings. "Though you barely scratched the surface of what you could become."

  Walking through the school gates as afternoon shadows lengthened, Kayo caught sight of a familiar white trenchcoat across the street. The Seller raised a gloved hand in what might have been a salute before melting into the crowd of pedestrians.

  "The game is just beginning," The Smiler whispered, as Kayo headed home to continue his practice in private. "And we have so much yet to learn."