He began chewing through the test papers. It started with the usual — questions about next of kin and the like:

Nil. N/A.

Kind of sad, really. No friends. No famil—

"Tch."

He forced the damn tragic stuff out. For the first time in a while, he actually felt irritation. Always focusing on his darkest thoughts when he—

Standing up and straightening his shirt before reseating drew a momentary glance from Mr. Toki, who raised his eyebrows in apparent concern before returning to his tablet.

Kai couldn’t be sure if the man was just here to supervise — probably to prevent cheating — but despite appearing occupied by the screen, Kai could feel himself being watched.

As he progressed through, distracting thoughts and self-doubt aside—

"Tch."

…Kai continued to answer the questions, doing his best not to let them get under his skin.

I feel sad

• Always

• Often

• Sometimes

• Rarely

• Never

Always;

Kai selected Rarely.

I feel anxious

• Always

• Often

• Sometimes

• Rarely

• Never

Always;

Tell them what they want to hear. That’s what’s best.

He selected Never, then glanced sideways — feeling it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mr. Toki was still watching. Chiseled features on the man’s face expressed a dead-eyed boredom and… what was it… pity? No.

Kai turned back to the paper.

He was becoming distracted.

He continued, finishing the questionnaire in about 45 minutes, exhausted by the sheer number of answers he’d had to think twice about giving.

He really needed this job. This job with a possibly mean and nasty boss that…

No no no, this job will work. Maybe, if he gets it.

He glanced down at his own hands — fingers twitching slightly. Why was he nervous? This wasn’t even what he wanted. Not really.

He pictured himself behind a desk here. Fluorescent lights humming. A fake smile for the sake of the kids. The same questions every week. A new bureaucratic form to fill. A different shade of silence from damaged students who didn’t need another stranger.

A strange pressure settled in his chest. Not panic. Not grief. Just… weight.
Why do I care so much?

As Kai stood up, Mr. Toki was already circling around to the front of the desk. His muscular frame and crisp collared shirt were disconcerting against the melancholy look on his face.

"Come on, Mr. Fukami. I'll escort you outside."

The man looked so damn solemn as he walked, and Kai just couldn’t pinpoint why — beyond the possibility that he’d failed somehow, or maybe Mr. Toki had received bad news, or maybe Kai’s own paranoia was painting shadows where there were none.

Maybe he’s just wearing the face of a bureaucrat.

"So, uh… how did I do?"

Mr. Toki glanced sideways at Kai for a moment, then forward again, holding the pause like a stone in his hand, weighing it.

"You… seem a nice man, Mr. Fukami."

"Uh, well… thank you. I, uh… look forward to a favourable outcome," Kai replied, still in interview mode. He assumed, by Mr. Toki's tone, that the comment meant he’d failed to get the job. He cast a polite smile and gave a small nod as they reached the door.

Mr. Toki stared down at the papers in his hand.

"I'm… sorry, Mr. Fukami."

Kai looked at the lock mechanism on the door, assuming the apology was about it still being latched shut.

"Oh! No probl—"

A loud chiming sensation suddenly reverberated through Kai's skull, vibrating through bone and thought alike. Instantly, all sensation left his limbs — only his heartbeat remained, racing, thudding violently through his chest and into his arms and skull like a drumline.

Mr. Toki stood just ahead, one hand raised — maybe to catch him?

Kai staggered.

The world turned sideways.

Vertigo swallowed him whole.

And then—

Thud.

Blackness.