Chapter 7: Deranged Room

Rooftop – Still Raining

Kaiser didn’t look back.

“You going to ask your ‘parents’ for permission?” the voice called out.

Kaiser stopped at the door.

“…No,” he replied quietly.

“I’m going to rip the zero off their records.”

The figure blinked.

Then smiled.

Wide. Sharp. Proud.

“Good boy.”

Kaiser stood soaked through, staring at the translucent figure before him. Same face. Same tired eyes. Same smirk full of sarcasm barely held back.

“Alright,” Kaiser muttered, “You got a name?”

The figure tilted his head. “You made me. You name me.”

Kaiser grinned. “Fine. I’ll call you… Cutie Pie.”

The figure blinked. “Are you actually retarded?”

Kaiser laughed. “Okay, okay… how about Bobby?”

“I will end you.”

“Chill, chill.” Kaiser thought for a moment. “How about… Kai?”

The figure raised an eyebrow. “Did you just name me using the first three letters of your own name?”

Kaiser shrugged. “Yeah.”

Kai sighed. “Fine. Kai it is.”

Back at the Dorm

Kaiser pushed open the door and stepped into chaos.

Dirty laundry on the chair. Empty ramen cups piled on the desk. Socks scattered in every corner. The air thick with stress, depression, and defeat.

Kai floated in behind him and immediately recoiled.

“…Are you deranged? Even junkies don’t live like this.”

Kaiser flopped onto the bed. “What now?”

“Look at your room, blockhead. This is a crime scene.”

“I’m kinda lazy.”

Kai sniffed dramatically. “Is that a sandwich under your pillow—or a used condom?”

Kaiser blushed. “Hey! That’s a sandwich—and, for the record, I’m single.”

Kai shook his head. “Yeah, no one’s dating you.”

Kaiser pouted but stayed quiet.

Kai scanned the room again and spotted something on the desk. “Is that an adult magazine? Were you cramming equations or zoning out during exams?”

Kaiser looked away, flustered. “I use it… sometimes. You know. When I’m bored.”

“You’re pathetic,” Kai said flatly.

Kaiser sighed. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. So what now?”

“Fix yourself, idiot. Step one—clean this rat nest. Even rats live better than you.”

Kaiser groaned. “Fine. Where do I start?”

Kai crossed his arms. “Bed first. Then desk. Then floor. And throw away that magazine. Now.”

Kaiser stood and mock-saluted. “Yes, sir.”

Operation: Stop Living Like Trash was underway.

Later That Night

The room was clean. Almost unrecognizable.

Bed made. Desk wiped. Trash gone. Magazine buried in the recycling bin.

Kai stretched and said, “You can’t just check out because you failed one subject. Re-exam’s next month. You’ve got one job now: study and pass.”

Kaiser sighed. “Studying again sounds like hell. What if I fail again?”

Kai rolled his eyes. “Then you try again. And again. You don’t quit after one trip.”

Kaiser looked up. “You’re serious about this.”

“Dead serious. Starting tomorrow, we hit the books. You’re going to pass.”

Kaiser gave a faint, genuine smile—the first in days.

“And after that?”

Kai grinned. “Once you pass... we talk training.”

Later, Still in the Room

Kaiser and Kai sat on the floor, backs against the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Kai asked, “You seriously ate those expired noodles?”

“I’m broke. What else am I supposed to eat? Caviar?”

Kai shook his head. “You’re built different. In the worst way.”

They both laughed—that laugh born from surviving something stupid.

Then silence stretched—not uncomfortable.

Kaiser broke the silence. “Hey… there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Kai glanced over. “Yeah?”

Kaiser leaned closer and whispered something under his breath.

For a moment, Kai just stared—his usual sarcasm gone. Then his expression twisted into shock. 

“...WHAT- ?!”