Dan was met with silence as he drowsily lifted his head from his desk. He blinked a couple of times to get rid of the fatigue and was surprised that the classroom had grown dark.

Even with his perfect 20/20 vision, Dan had to squint to see through the haziness. The most he could make out was dark rectangular shapes surrounding him. He just assumed these were the desks.

He waited a few more seconds, the faint ticking of the clock more apparent in the stillness of the room.

The shapes began to become more distinct, and Dan was able to focus his vision slightly. From what he gathered, all the chairs looked like they had been pushed into the desks properly, and in a neat order. Behind him, the cubbies that had once been filled with gym bags and bentos were empty as well.

Dan scratched his head out of habit. It seemed that whoever had cleaning duty last had already left and taken care of everything. Yet, they didn’t bother to clean the big lump, which was him, along with the rest of the junk.

Why didn’t anyone wake me???

He gulped uncomfortably. The room was obviously cleaned, how come they just let him sit there drooling all over his desk? Did they not care at all? Was he really that pathetic?

I guess I’m alone again.

Even in his previous schools, things like this happened to him. Well, he didn’t really sleep during classes, but it was true that he did not have a single classmate that cared enough to help him out.

He vividly remembered the lunches when he was sitting at his desk while boys turned around to discuss sports with their best friends, and girls giggling about a new idol that recently dropped an album. He still recalled them glancing at his direction now and then, as he chewed on some rice, and seeing the pity in their eyes.

Still, no matter how sympathetic they were, they themselves did not wish to be outcasts like him, and so they chose to ignore him instead.

Even the teachers in his past were no better from the students they taught.

Maybe, if one really thought about it long and hard, the reason why the students did nothing may have also been because of the teachers’ example. They didn’t really make an effort to make sure that he blended in with his class.

Most of their priority was on the students who brought them good grades. Dan was good, but he could never reach the level of the top ten in his class. Even if he tried really hard, he’d just remain smack in the middle of everyone else.

In the end, Dan was just normal, and thus there was nothing special about him to notice.

Dan had gotten used to this over time, but still, it was sad to think that no one bothered to approach him even now. Sure the new homeroom teacher from this morning seemed like he could be better than Dan’s past teachers, but he still didn’t utter a single word to him.

It was still the same no matter where he went, and this is proven by the fact that no one bothered to wake him up, or were too afraid to approach him, in fear of being outcasted themselves.

He sighed in his heart, “Well, better make it home before sis finds out I’m not there.”

Glumly, Dan leapt to his feet and looked at the window, which shown the sun touching the horizon. His sister was supposed to get home around this time. If he hurried, then maybe he could beat her there.

Since he could see clearly now, Dan was able to spot his bag next to his chair. Because he directly went to the teachers’ department in the morning, and was nervous about walking to his seat about the introduction, he completely forgot to put it away.

Not only that but his lunch and breakfast bento boxes were untouched.

Feeling a little remorseful over not eating his sister’s hard earned food, he quickly made a note in his head to make dinner.

He migrated around the desks as best as he could without knocking into them. But as he neared the door, his foot caught on something, and he fell over, a loud crash following him.

Ow.

Dan held his leg close to his chest as he laid on the floor in a fetal position. His foot had twisted the wrong way and he had felt his ankle give a tiny snap sound. Next thing he knew, a pang of pain shot right up his leg as he tried to get up.

Yelping like a dog caught in a fence, he stumbled and fell again. He turned his head and very gently, rolled down his sock to see the damage that was left.

Even in the darkness, Dan could properly see that his ankle had swollen up like a balloon. He couldn’t make out if it had turned black or blue, because right now everything looked black and blue to him.

Panting, he slowly rose his torso up into a seated position. He knew he couldn’t get up all the way, but he couldn’t wait all night for a teacher to find him sitting on the floor the next morning.

What could he do? Give his sister a call? That didn’t sound like a bad idea, and the responsible and logical side of his brain told him that he should do exactly that.

However, what if she couldn’t come and the school was locked, what then? He can’t make her worry for him. She’s been hovering over him like one of those helicopter parents, and if she were to find out that he was locked at school with a broken ankle, she’d never let him outside ever again.

But…

If he told her he made a friend, and that he was staying over at his house, then maybe she would be fine with it.

He’s never lied to her before, he’s never lied to anyone ever, but he didn’t want to make her worry.

With this as the only plausible option that he could conceive to get him out of his situation. He reached over his head to where his bag fell to look for his phone. His back had gone over his head earlier, but not too far for him to reach.

When he made contact, he hastily looked inside. His hand made purchase on multiple books, even poked at his pencils, but he couldn't recognize the rectangular shape of his phone.

He looked around at the floor. There was no evidence of his phone falling under the students’ desks, so what about the teacher’s?

Without hesitation, because where else could it be, Dan crawled over to the middle of the room. The floor was cold beneath his hands, jolting him slightly. But it didn’t feel pasty with prints, or grimy with dirt so he continued.

He was almost there when his hand touched something smooth. Looking down, that waxy recognizable texture could only belong to a candle. He held it up, and sure enough, it was a cylindrical candle that carried a fragrance of slightly of burnt wax. As he held it, he felt a large imprint of his shoe on its side.

Is this what I stepped on earlier?

Curious, he sniffed the candle again and then touched the wick. His fingers felt the hard, wax-coated end of the thread, and moved up to the top, where the temperature was slightly warm.

Dipping his finger in the wax in the middle, because he felt a little daring, his finger met with a malleable source.

So it was lit a while ago, but why?

Carrying the candle in one hand, he crawled over to the teacher’s desk. But as he went the floor no longer felt clean.

Instead there was a moist, almost dried, feeling under his palms. There were drops of wax scattered too, but they were already dry. The smell of burning wax mixed with something metallic as he drew closer to the back of the desk.

Wait, I know this smell…

Is this blood?!