Usagi steps into the alleyway near the school. It’s a building abandoned years ago, a flower shop, and an old café. She approaches a dumpster, dropping off a book bag discreetly before she tries to rush back out.
“You know, that’s some skill you got? Connections, connections, like notes on a beautiful symphony.”
She freezes.
“You know I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t have to. I don’t give a damn about you or your master’s wishes.” She protrudes her words.
“Don’t call him that. I don’t fend on the thought of calling another my master.” A young man, eighteen years of age, steps out of the dark. His hooded jacket keeps his true identity a secret, his face unseen, and a single blade of black hair. His jacket is decorated with the signs of music, a clef, rest, and a sixteenth note scattered across it.
“That so? A man following another man’s orders? I would call you a soldier, but that’s not what you are or any of you. You’re all just idiotic anarchists,” she declared.
“Don’t dare speak to us like we’re mindless fiends.”
“I can say whatever I want about you all. I don’t care about any of you, even if I''ve seen some of you firsthand, I hate you all.”
He pauses and lifts the bag. He opens it and checks to see what’s inside. A file. He smirks and places it back safely.
“Don’t matter to me, go on, hate me. Doesn’t make any difference.”
“You’re a filthy Remnant,” she spits out. His nose scrunches beneath his cloak. The disrespect angers him. Until it doesn’t.
“You are a feisty one. Those who speak about you weren’t lying at all.” His voice is beautiful, an easygoing road of notes in every word he speaks.
“Don’t give me that. They can speak on me, but they won’t kill me. I’m valuable to them as much as I despise it.”
“Careful what you wish for. Value can always go down.” He smirks. Usagi hates every moment spent with him. She knows he holds the same power as them. He can kill her with ease.
“I won’t say anymore. It’s not your business to understand us anyway.” He turns around. “All you have to do is keep these files coming, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
“I’ll be taking my leave then.” He drops something in a nearby puddle.
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“Go on. Take your reward.”
She retrieves the item from the puddle, wiping it off.
“Farewell, for now, you pathetic bunny.”
Having herself be called that makes her skin crawl; her head is knotted with fury, but she remains silent.
He leaves, and she opens the package. Inside is 50,000 yen. She puts it back and takes a moment to process this. She knows she is in dangerous territory, but she is caged in and unable to escape. She truly did feel like a bunny, lost in the woods among wolves. Any ready to take her carcass back to the leader of the pack. Or what’s worse in her mind. Take the pelts of others close in her group.
#
The principal of the school, Miss Haruki, holds the podium. The thoughts are barraging her. How can she go about this? The world is moving at a pace much too fast. She anchors herself in front of the students and makes her announcement.
“Students. I have terrible news. There has been an occurrence I am sure you are all fully aware of. Some of our student body have gone missing and are presumed to have been captured by the Cult of the Remnants.” She reveals a note. It is painted in red, and the letters read, ‘The New Tomorrow,’ an ominous warning.
The assembly hall drowns in gasps and chatter. The Cult of the Remnants are bad people. Others may debate the morality of their cause, but they were all taught in their classes—they are monsters.
“No way that happened, Principal, just fear mongering. Come on, don’t believe that.”
“I don’t think so, Okazaki. Why would the principal tell us something horrid like that unless it was true? Something is very wrong here,” Ishimoto says.
“Yeah, I don’t think this is a fake thing, not at all. She said it with such seriousness!” Keiko exclaims.
The group is in disarray. There is despair in the room. The students wonder about the whereabouts of their friends and if they are the ones who are lost.
Takei is out of it. Her head is lost in a wave of thoughts. She tries to focus her eyes on the scene. It seems all so chaotic. Everything is going so fast.
“Takei? You all right?” Okazaki asked.
“Huh? Yes, I’m sorry…” In her head, a flash of something she seems to have forgotten over time plays over and over.
“I’m surprised you can be groggy right now. This is so scary…” says Keiko.
Usagi is on the outskirts of the room, listening in. A grimace on her face appears, her teeth gritting.
“The students are as follows.” She recalls the names of all who are missing. One, two, three, twenty-six. Every name called puts more dread into everyone.
“It just keeps going… This is awful…” Takei presses her lips tight, staring down at the ground. A hint of grief sets in more and more, and then she hears it. They all hear it.
“Yokota Shoji.” The group''s hearts sink.
“Shoji? Ain’t no way they got him. He’s just home sick!” Okazaki shoots up from his seat.
“Yeah, no way, absolutely not at all! It must be a fluke, a fluke!” Keiko says in a panic.
“Absolutely not. No way. I don’t believe it for a second. Something logical has to be applied to this.” Ishimoto ponders.
“No… not Shoji…”
Usagi clenches her chest, falling to the ground out of sight. They didn’t, did they? There’s no way.
“Sadly, the situation is grime. We are unsure at this moment if they will be recovered, but we want to ensure you all we will try to the best of our abilities to bring your friends and fellow students back to us. In conclusion, if any students need mental help, reside with your counselors. That is all.”
“Hey, come on, guys, let’s go! We’re heading to Shoji’s house right away.” Okazaki rushes up and leads the way out of the auditorium. The rest follow, and Usagi watches them all leave. She is laid out on the floor. The rest of the students start to rise up. Sadness, anger, confusion, and worry set it to everyone. The girl on the ground felt overwhelming despair.