Through the next 75 minutes, stress was thick in [Name]'s veins. He watched the clock closely. The minutes passed by too quickly, and he had to choose where to place himself to intercept the bomber that would inevitably come through the doors.
Fifteen minutes left of the lesson.
[Name] walked briskly into the hallway and looked opposite where he was supposed to go. There was a fire exit there. However, next to it was another door, and that door was normally openable from the outside. Quickly walking to the door, he was startled to hear footsteps coming around the corner. Patting his pockets, he couldn't find his hallway pass, so thinking fast, he pretended to be looking for something. [Name] acted startled at the teacher's presence before pretending to go to another classroom.
He quickly ran back to the door, pulled off his tie, and secured it around the bar on the door. [Name] continued back the way he came, and the science corridor linking to the pastoral office, where [Name] could head left from, would take him to the canteen. The English stairs were just before the canteen hallway.
The exit near the Pastoral offices would be where the bomber enters.
'Lucian.'
'Yes?'
'How long left?'
'Six minutes.'
"Hey. What are you doing here?"
[Name] whipped around, looking at Michael, standing with an easygoing smile.
[Name] looked past Michael slightly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Shrugging, "Nothing much, just taking in some air."
Michael's brows furrowed in worry, "Are you sure you're alright then? You can come into pastoral with me?"
[Name] shifted on his feet, shaking his head slightly, "What are you out here for?"
Unease spread through Michael's chest.
"Nothing like that. I am fine in that regard."
Michael looked at [Name]'s face, squinting. "You know that I am here for you, right?"
[Name] looked at the floor – a sombre expression settled on his face. He walked towards Michael, reaching out slowly and gently, and put his hand on Michael's shoulder. He squeezed it firmly, lips pressed tightly together and smiling, looking into Michael's eyes.
Concern grew in Michael. He was about to ask something when [Name] shook his head, raising a finger to his lips, silencing Michael.
'Three minutes.'
'Does he have time to get back to his class?'
'If he runs, he should be able to make it, Host.'
'You haven't called me that in a while, Lucian.'
'...'
"You should go back to class Michael. I want to be alone for a few more minutes."
"Alright. Stay safe, my dude."
'This world's mission is to give Elliot a satisfactory life, correct?'
'Yes.'
'Alright then.'
'...'
'Do I die in this one?'
'That is up to your interpretation, host.'
'Alright then.'
[Name] looked around the halls again – he found it was nearing the end of lessons. Soon students will be spilling into the hallways. Hurridly, [Name] ignored the ringing in his ears, running around the halls and pushing the fire alarms to get people out of the building.
A teacher saw him pushing all the fire alarms within the hallway and started to give chase.
He ran at the teacher, tackling the teacher to the ground and holding the man down – although the teacher was struggling like a feral animal under [Name]'s grip, clawing at [Name]'s arms, raking and digging his nails into the flesh of his arms.
[Name] looked stalled for a second, catching the suspicious figure in a long coat running into the school – through the pastoral exit and the rush of other students.
There was a flurry of activity.
[Name] turned the teacher around, getting up quickly, kicking the teacher in the stomach, and winding him.
Time starts to slow.
[Name] reached out just as the cloaked figure drew out the manual detonator.
Stumbling forward a few steps – feeling his heart in his throat as he rammed into the figure's chest. Pushing them out into the open space that connected them to the field.
IEDs on the figure's person exploded, [Name] was thrown back, and he watched as the windows of the pastoral office shattered.
There was a great ringing in [Name]'s as he slumped against the still-standing wall.
There were many loud voices – blurred.
••••
It was butchery. Blood was oozing out of his injuries, and his leg was stumps.
Some other students were also injured as they were on the field where the evacuation point was when he pulled the fire alarm. Through his daze, [Name] could tell they were attended to, making him slump further against the wall. He relished in the coldness of the floor against the burns that littered him.
••••
Michael could only stare as he remembered what had taken place that day.
"Michael?"
"Hm?! Oh, right," he paused for a second, "What was the question again, Sara?"
Sara smiled, "I am asking, why do you think you still can't let go of the incident?"
"…"
He paused for a second. Trying to think of why he felt the way he was even after all these years.
****
Two people were on the swings, chatting and laughing at each other. The sun was beautifully warm, casting a golden hue on the branches of the trees around them – keeping their faces warm, and the breeze kept them from overheating.
"[Name]."
"Yes?"
"You're a good friend of mine. Someone I consider extremely precious to me."
"Thank you, Michael. It is an honour to be considered such."
The two continued chattering about other things after, talking about the newest games or their favourite types of drinks or food, all random topics.
Michael had never felt closer to someone before [Name]; it was a sad reality for Michael. He was lonely, and Michael couldn't connect with many of his peers due to prejudices against him and his heritage. Or, they would view him as an exotic animal under scrutiny; they loved the idea of him.
Now [Name] was gone. After that bombing incident, where most people were alive and only with minor injuries – such as scratches, bruises, cuts, and fractures – [Name] was the only fatality.
••••
Just thinking about it felt like something was crawling up from Michael's stomach – twisting in his chest, clogging his throat and making his eyes burn with unshed tears.
'Maybe… I can see you in the next life.'