When I exited the building, I saw the backs of many students walking the dirt path to the building.

  I looked behind me, making sure no one saw me. I didn’t want to converse with anyone I didn’t know, and I didn’t know anyone.

  Maybe I should pass as being a shy student. That’ll be the best way to explain why I have an aversion to talking to people.

  As I waited by the door for the students to go into the building, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  I flinched before turning to face whoever was behind me.

  It was another boy wearing the same uniform as I was. He spoke syllables.

  Shit, now I’d have to converse.

  I need to make a system that lets me communicate with others, that will let me keep up with the flow of conversation.

  I backed up inside the building, wanting to see if I was an obstacle in his way so that he’d just walk by without acknowledging me for long.

  He kept his gaze on me, standing near where I had stood seconds ago.

  He walked toward me.

  Umm.

  He continued speaking more syllables as he stepped closer.

  I put up halting hand gesture, not wanting him to get any further than where was already standing. The boy stopped, but the rhythm of his syllables sped up.

  I could only stare in a daze as he rambled about whatever it was that he was saying.

  It wasn’t until another boy entered the one-sided conversation, putting a hand on the shoulder of the talkative one and saying a few syllables before the talkative one left, waving goodbye.

  The syllables of this person were less overwhelming, friendly even. He even offered a handshake.

  I accepted it, shaking it briefly.

  He spoke, and waited. Unlike the talkative boy, this person actually respects the conventions of conversation.

  A shame I won’t be able to give him an answer.

  How do I show him a sign of thanks? Something simple to convey my gratitude without having to jump through hoops to convey a simple idea.

  I looked at his hand and had an idea. If handshakes are a common greeting, maybe I can use that to convey my thankfulness.

  It’s not like I can speak, so having a handshake twice in the same conversation shouldn’t be as strange.

  I offered my right hand, and the person in front of me gave me a strange look. He thought briefly before accepting the second handshake with a smile on his face.

  I followed a tradition of my elders and followed up the handshake by clasping his shaking hand with my free hand, cradling it in both of my hands, similar to how old people do it as a sign of familial endearment. His expression shifted from confusion to genuine surprise, caught off guard by my second hand.

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  He laughed and smiled a bit, not completely against the surprise gesture.

  The person then spoke some more unfamiliar syllables before running off to the school building. When he was far enough away, I hid behind the wall and took out my miniature map, reminding myself again of the path I needed to take to reach all of my classes in an optimal, timely manner.

  Seeing there would be no more surprise conversations, I head on the dirt path, behind everyone.

  …

  Hello again. You’ll be seeing me a lot in the coming days.

  I thought to myself, seeing the 10 statues across the door, before I started walking the route, while holding the miniature map. I was more confident I could complete the route without getting lost, but the path only felt less tedious with the assurance.

  Since there were still students lingering in the hall before classes started, I unfortunately received their stares, since I’m a new face wearing a uniform. Even though I’d become a new student, to my surprise, I didn’t get as much attention as I expected. Probably a good thing. If I can keep this up, maybe I could survive however long being that one student everyone knows, but nobody knows the name of.

  I took out my map, glancing at the route I had traced, before putting it back in my pocket. I wanted to see if I could follow the route without relying on my map.

  A lot had happened ever since my surprise hospitalization. I was introduced to healing magic, learned of a string of deaths related to a smoke-covered snake, saw a glimpse of the amount of influence Mr. Blonde has over others, and that Mr. Blonde can draw well!

  As I reflected on recent events, I realized I didn’t know where I stood. I took out my map to try and figure it out, but fixating on committing to a single path without understanding the layout of the whole school simply doesn’t work.

  Being provided a map isn’t enough. There needs to be map checkpoints similar to the ones in malls.

  I reviewed my map to try and find where I was relative to its layout when I heard voices.

  I looked around to see where the voices were coming from, and walked toward where I thought they were coming from.

  Then, I turned a corner and saw some students.

  When I saw the layout, I was able to match it to where it was on the map. It was fairly far away from the classrooms, so I could only guess why students would be this far out.

  I took a glance at my map again to figure out what path I should take to return to my original route when I heard a noise. When I looked back up, I noticed that one of the students was on the ground.

  The fuck?

  One of the other students who was standing put their foot on the back of the fallen student.

  Whatever they said didn’t matter. I knew exactly what was going on the moment that foot was placed.

  Someone was getting bullied.

  I was suddenly reminded of stories in my past life about people, adolescent people, being driven to suicide, all because someone deemed them worthless enough to abuse them.

  As I silently watched the scene unfold, my mind raced through possibilities of how to respond.

  Should I use my power to violently beat up these bullies? On paper, retaliation makes sense, but if simply retaliating were enough to stop them…

  No. They’re all in one place. I need to gather all of them and bring them to Mr. Blonde. Stopping an incident can be heroic, but stopping them from ever doing this again is justice. Besides, if Mr. Blonde ends up turning a blind eye, then breaking their bones is always an option, even if it’s a fraction of the pain they’re inflicting.

  Not caring about the viability of the mental images I planned to manifest, but only ensuring the preserved well-being of the bullies, I made them all levitate in the air so they wouldn’t run. They screamed and shouted, likely at the victim.

  I moved from the corner I hid behind so that I could get a good look at their faces. I needed to see them to produce accurate sketches.

  From the way they spoke now, there was confusion in their voices. Good.

  I turned their still-alive bodies toward me so that I could see their faces. Then, I conjured paper so that I could print their faces onto the paper. It needed to be accurate and detailed so that they wouldn’t be mistaken for anybody else, on the off chance they have doppelgangers.

  As I thought about which person to sketch first, water splashed in my face, forcing me to shut my eyes for an instant. Instinctively, I moved to wipe my face.

  Then I saw the 3 I was levitating on the ground.

  All of them looked pissed.