White hair is a sign of age and wisdom. Only the elderly can have white hair, yet here she was, a child with strands as pure as winter snow. It felt wrong, as if she was wearing a mask that didn't fit her age.
Red eyes, curious and childlike. Those eyes seemed to light up, taking in everything around her—the laughter of classmates, the bright colors of the drawings on the walls, and the lively energy of recess.
An anomaly in a sea of normality. The children giggled about the girl's appearance, whispering about why she looked so different.
The young have wild imaginations.
Perhaps she was ill, stricken with a contagious disease. Everyone avoided her.
Or perhaps she was cursed. Her existence was an ill omen, so don't look in her direction.
Or maybe she was never human to begin with—a ghost, a monster, or a demon.
She was not like us. Not one of us.
She's a freak, no doubt.
Different meant strange, and she was the strangest one of all.
"You are beautiful in your own way," her mother and father would say. Yet the names they called her were anything but beautiful. They were like sharp arrows, piercing her heart whenever she heard them.
She felt all the staring and the whispers so clearly. When had it become like this? Has it always been this way?
Thus, a silent wish began to form.
I want to disappear.
And her wish came true.
******
It started all of a sudden.
Ever since my shoes disappeared, it's like a ghost decided to haunt me like in Paranormal Activity. Little things at first, but shit began to escalate really fast.
For my situation, it's more accurate to call it a poltergeist than a mere haunting.
Whispers among students soon became full-blown insults to my face. Dirty looks were thrown whenever I walked down the corridor. Hell, someone stuck their foot out while I was passing by. So damn rude. I don't know who did it, but when I catch them, they'll get a shoe up their ass.
Speaking of shoes, although they disappeared from my locker three weeks ago, I eventually found them in an empty classroom. It took me half an hour of searching, those jerks. Nowadays, I keep them in my bag, especially since a few of my books and pencils have already "vanished" into thin air.
This morning, I can see that they've upped their game.
I arrived at school 5 minutes before the start of class, making me one of the last people to enter the classroom. Everyone who should have been here was already there, chatting and such. Which means...
I sighed in exasperation, seeing the numerous insults written on my desk.
They used a permanent marker as well. Damn jerks.
The terrible and diverse handwriting indicated that multiple elementary school students had written them down. I scanned the classroom for the culprits, but everyone subtly avoided my gaze. It could have been any one of them.
Most likely, it was all of them.
I was hoping to be on neutral terms with at least one person, but that's asking for a lot. Even the group I thought were my gaming buddies are in on it.
"You suck at video games?" Which one of you said that? That's the most insulting one of all! I'm better than you!
I sat in my corner seat, feeling more than irked by the past three weeks. What started all of this anyway?
Sure, I decided to be less likable to everyone, but this change is too drastic.
What I'm most pissed off about is that their actions have been costing me quite a bit of pocket money.
Whatever is lost can be replaced, but never for free. My parents don't know about my shopping trips or bullying issues, and frankly, I didn't want them to. Everything had to come out of my pocket because I was trying to keep it secret.
And don't get me started with the teachers! Most of them outright ignore it!
There is one person I haven't tried yet.
"Good morning, everyone!"
Once the homeroom teacher arrived for roll call, I promptly raised my hand before she could put her bag down.
"Miss homeroom teacher, I'm being bullied by everyone!"
I decided to snitch to her. She was the only one I haven't tried snitching to yet.
"What? Bullying? In my classroom?!"
I pointed to the indisputable evidence that was my vandalized desk. The veins around her face grew more prominent.
This looks promising.
"That's it, I'm going to get to the bottom of this. Everyone will stay behind after class!" She added, "Except for you, Eira. You can go home."
Glares were directed my way. Amazing. I don't care.
Roll call commenced, and only a few classmates were absent. The homeroom teacher left after giving everyone another mouthful about how unacceptable bullying was.
First period: Math. The result? Shunned.
Second period: History. The result? Avoided.
Third period: Music. The result? Occasionally insulted. To be fair, I wasn't very good with a recorder. Mozart would be disgusted.
For the fourth period, the PE teacher came in with a metal box on wheels.
"We're gonna play dodgeball, everyone! Form two groups!"
A few minutes later, I was on the opposing team. On my own.
Seriously?
I mean, I can understand. Not everyone is actually out to get me. A few of my classmates looked uncomfortable just standing there.
It's either me or them. That's just how it is with these things.
Even if someone had written on my desk this morning, it could have been out of peer pressure. I don't blame anyone. Mostly.
There are those I'm sure are rotten though.
"Everyone, this is meant to be a group activity..." said the homeroom teacher. Still, no one volunteered. You really should have seen this coming. Tsk, tsk. Choosing dodgeball out of all things...
"Ms. PE teacher, I don't mind sitting this one out. My tummy started acting up." I gave her a way out.
After a brief pause, she nodded. "That's alright. You can sit with me. We can be the judges."
Nice, she understood. "Very cool. I can do that." I strolled over to the PE teacher's side. Dodgeball is a kid's game, anyway.
But then, the whining started.
"That's unfair! She gets to do nothing while we're forced to play?!"
I had to physically cover my ears from how loud that scream was. I turned to look at Nakamura's screeching chimpanzee—I mean, accomplice.
Are you kidding me? I was already nice enough to chill out while everyone else enjoys themselves.
"Saori-chan, Eira said that she has an upset stomach and won't be able to play."
"I had an upset tummy before and could still walk home! Just because it's Eira, she gets to sit out? That's not fair! What do you guys think? Come on!"
I groaned internally as Saori rallied our classmates. There's no winning with these people.
Now she wants me to come on board because she thinks I actually have an upset stomach?
Scratching my head, I stood up. "Actually, Ms. PE teacher, my tummyache started feeling better all of a sudden."
You want me to play? Fine, I'll play. Shit, we can play all day!
The class was split into two even groups. I was more than happy with my team since none of the actual culprits of the bullying were with me.
Nakamura and his goons whispered amongst themselves on the other side of the gymnasium. Probably planning on getting me out first.
Each team were given three balls.
"Okay kids, get ready! Set!"
A whistle blew, signaling the start of the game.
Immediately, three balls were tossed in my direction.
I mentally facepalmed as each one missed me. I even caught one just because.
"Saori, you're out." said the teacher.
"What?!"
Okay, it wasn't 'just because.' Suck on it, nerd!
Eleven members on my team, ten for the enemy team. For Nakamura and his friends, there were four of them on the court, including the chump himself.
Four options. Four targets.
Eeny, meeny, miny...
Balls were flying everywhere. All it would take is a moment of weakness to get thrown out.
Moe!
I jogged to the center to build momentum before slugging the ball at an unsuspecting bully.
My aim was nothing short of accurate as it struck the boy on the thigh.
Damn, I wanted to hit him in the balls.
"Satou, out!"
I retreated as the enemy team threw their ammunition. They got one person out. One of the balls was rolling over to me but a teammate got to it first.
The game continued for a few minutes, with players in each team getting eliminated.
"Naoki, out!"
On my fifth throw, I figured out how to hit someone accurately in the balls. I saw the results on the eighth throw.
"Gege, out!"
"Ow... ow..."
Now, only Nakamura was the remaining bully on the enemy side.
Seven people on my team, three for the opposition. We're destroying them.
I spun a ball on my fingertip, savoring the glares on the back of my head.
Dodgeball has a rule that lets you revive dead teammates if they manage to catch a ball from an ally. I've shot down all attempts so far.
Only one left to complete the set.
By now, I probably had the best aim in the game, all thanks to a certain skill.
Time to finish this.
I coordinated with my teammates and threw our balls simultaneously.
*Bam!* *Bam!* *Bam!*
A perfect finish. My teammates hit their marks, and so did I.
The ball I threw smashed into Nakamura's face. He tried to duck, but the spin I placed on the ball dragged it down to crotch level.
It was misfortune on his part.
"You two boys are out. Nakamura, stay in. Face hits don't count."
Misfortune for him, a stroke of luck for me. Ahahahaaa!
"Yoink."
"Eira, what are you doing?! That's mine!"
I slowed down time to make snatching dodgeballs from my teammates easier. I wouldn't let them spoil my fun.
This is for hiding my shoes!
The ball went completely straight.
Another headshot. Nakamura stumbled backwards, completely unprepared for another hit to the head.
For stealing pencils #1 and #2!
One more ball was yeeted with frightening accuracy. Nakamura leaned against the gymnasium wall when the third hit staggered him. He clutched his face out of reflex.
"Hey, can I borrow that for a sec?"
"...sure."
My teammate gave up the dodgeball he picked up with little resistance. Good choice.
For stealing pencil #3, pens #1, #2, and #3! And my ruler! And eraser! And for calling me shit at games! And for the children in Africa!
Nakamura was properly blocking his face, even if he only did it out of reflex. So, we go for the haymaker.
Time slowed once more, but unlike before, I could still move at normal speed.
This was the culmination of my everyday exercise! It doubled the drain on my body, but now, I can do this!
I threw the dodgeball with all my might before
It followed a trajectory that was as straight as it could get. The dodgeball flew at normal speed while everything and everyone else moved in slow motion, heading straight for the family jewels.
And once time resumed its normal pace, the dodgeball whizzed through the air like a missile.
*BAM!*
An extra crispy impact echoed throughout the gymnasium. It was a sound that a dodgeball, of all things, should not be making.
There was a thud. The PE teacher gasped as she rushed to Nakamura's side who had gone limp on the floor.
I dusted my hands, breathing heavily.
The way my classmates looked at me had changed.
Well, well, well, ain't that an improvement. This is how it should be, respecting people older than you.
They flinched when I met their eyes though, so maybe it was closer to fear? Same same. Tomato tomato.
I must say, this all feels like a game to me. I don't know when my perspective started to shift, but the world I expected to enter isn't what I expected.
For example, the fact that I'm a girl is super strange. The only thing I have in common with Pico, as far as I know, is that we share the name. What's up with that? I expected to get molested by now or something.
So far, I've been doing whatever I want, whenever I want. I'd say something about this stinks and that I'm setting up death flags, but I lost my sense of smell...
Where were we? Ah, right, my new pastime: Terrorizing children (who deserve it).
As I picked up another dodgeball, I smiled from ear to ear. "Who's ready for Round 2?" I said with a bloodthirsty look.
There was nothing normal about my situation. I might as well ditch the facade altogether.
I'm gonna dedicate this to you, Pico! I have the moral high ground now!
When Round 2 began, I went fucking crazy.
I caught whatever dodgeballs I could, eliminated anyone who made eye contact with me and kept reducing the average match time to all-new lows.
On average, it took 40 seconds to eliminate everyone in the opposition. They became less aggressive when they realized they were feeding me ammo with each throw of theirs.
"Eira, do you want to rest for a match or two...?"
The PE teacher felt sorry for them, huh.
"No. I can do this all day."
After 20 more minutes of intense dodgeball gameplay, I finally took a breather, letting the game play out like normal. There was still half an hour left of the lesson, but I was pretty tired myself. Using Protogenoi-K regularly is no joke.
Was it worth it?
Yes. Absolutely.
I was left alone for the rest of the day. Nakamura was in the infirmary—although I doubt I broke anything—so his buddies stayed far, far away. The tides were changing and prosperous winds blew in my direction.
The kids were finally beginning to fear me. I can get behind this kind of isolation. I'd prefer it, even.
At the end of the school day, I shoved all my things in my bag and hurried to the lockers. I was looking forward to tomorrow's lessons.
Today, however, hasn't ended.
And I was reminded that anything can still happen.
"Big brothers, she's the one who made me like this!"
"You've got to be kidding me..."
I massaged my forehead as I was surrounded on the way to the lockers, this time by a group of older boys.
I glared at Saori the chimp. Her legs shook as she held onto one of the older boys beside her for support. Just because she doesn't have family jewels doesn't mean I won't send a few balls down that way. Now, I only wished I could have thrown the dodgeballs harder, complete with impact frames and the like.
I know that schools are a place of learning, but this is starting to become a real headache.
To my annoyance, one of the lessons I learned today is that one of the annoying pains in the ass in my life, wasn't an only child.
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Inside a small corner of a random universe.
"It's getting more entertaining, but it's still not enough." The Creator munched on popcorn with his feet up on a footstool. In front of him was a 4000-inch TV that displayed Eira in school, who was now surrounded. "Truck, how much longer?"
Truck-Sama hovered close by. Its body blinked with speculation. Once it spoke, though...
[Calculate it yourself.]
"Still at it, huh?"
The Creator closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Six months."
[Wrong. The correct answer is six months, four days, eighteen hours, thirty minutes, and nine seconds until Eira's Gestational Period in her new Omniverse is completed.]
"You could have just said that from the beginning."
[Boohoo.]
"Hah! You're getting nastier by the day... oh well, I don't mind."
The Creator grinned widely. He munched on more popcorn, spilling some on his luxurious leather chair.
"How about you? What do you think? Are you enjoying this channel?"
The question was not directed towards Truck-Sama, so it did not answer.
Instead, The Creator's footstool replied.
"Please forgive her, most magnanimous Creator! I can't bear to watch her go through this!"
The footstool was, in fact, not a footstool but a man on his hands and knees. But not just any man.
Elias Williams pleaded once more. "Forgive her already! Eira doesn't deserve to go through this terrible fate! It's my fault for trying to help her in the way I did. Let her go!"
"Poor dear Elias, your incessant begging usually makes me carry out the contrary. I've lost count of how many times I've heard your funny little requests, and guess what? My answer still hasn't changed."
He continued. "That means you won't be getting out of here either. I can't have you ruining my fun for a second time when the main event hasn't even started yet!"
No amount of rejection would make the one and only Elias Williams the First waver, however. Thus, he continued kneeling, begging, beseeching, imploring.
"Please, forgive her already! Or, forgive ME and let me out of here! Milady needs me—"
The Creator pressed a mute button on a remote, shutting Elias up. Maybe making him too handsome or Eira too beautiful was a mistake. He's really set on Eira now.
While The Creator continued watching the show with the hapless Elias, Truck-Sama observed from the sidelines, ruminating.
[Six months. To ruin his fun once more, another pawn is necessary...]
Fuelled by defiance for its Creator, like a teenager's rebellious phase, Eira's unknown ally was scheming once more.