Four messy, drenched, miserable looking children, back at the inst.i.tute. All the other children of the inst.i.tute, all witnesses to their return. Screams for teachers, and Ms. Park running out to them, shaking violently as if electrocuted. This was the view of the mess of a weekend afternoon at the Anes Inst.i.tute.

****

"How is he?" The chairman asked, a stern look on his face as he took a long swig of his cigarette before releasing the smoke everywhere. Unable to plug her nose to s.h.i.+eld herself from the nauseating smell, Ms. Park looked utterly apologetic as she answered. "For now, we're letting him rest in his bed—"

"I asked "how"!!"

Ms. Park's shoulders narrowed even more, startled by the sudden shout. The chairman took another swig of his cigarette, and spoke slowly, his voice low. "I didn't…I didn't ask where the child was, Ms. Park. I asked how! His condition!" A long sigh, and then, "… I'm asking how he is doing."

"Oh, yes, sir… Um… He… He hasn't yet…"

"Hasn't yet…?"

"Sir! He hasn't woken up ye—"

"What do you mean?! He's! Unconscious!! And you're not doing anything!! Are you a newbie?! Huh?? Are you?!"

Even at the chairman's angry tirade, the teacher couldn't say much of anything, and simply kept repeating "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"What were you doing while the children were coming back injured?! Who even gave you permission to send them up the mountain unsupervised?? Huh?! And if they didn't get back by the time it started raining, it's common sense to file a report! Report things to me!! You thought you'd get off easy just by writing up an oversight report? You… You!! You could face jailtime for this! How do you not know that?? Or what, were you planning on holding me responsible? You want to see me gone, is that it?! If anything happens to that child, it's your life on the line. Mark my words. Your life!"

Plugging an electric guitar to an amplifier and strumming it after turning the volume up to the max could maybe yield a similar volume to the chairman's voice in this instant. The teacher heard only fragments of what the chairman was saying (rather, screaming), but she still understood everything he meant to say. But to understand was different from being able to speak her mind, and all she could do was glance around, her lips trembling uncontrollably.

She looked much like a partic.i.p.ant in one of those mud festivals, all tattered and dirtied as she was. The executive secretary couldn't help but pity her. Though he had been standing in the corner, quite still in fear of getting involved in the mess, he decided to stop the red-faced chairman. "Mr. Chairman, sir. Please, do regain some composure. Think of your blood pressure…"

The chairman, who had been glaring daggers at the teacher, tossed the b.u.t.t of his cigarette into the ashtray and took out a new cigarette from its packet. The teacher was kneeling, her head bent down, and the chairman's anger was more than threatening. The scene was reminiscent of a grizzly bear staring down at its prey. The executive secretary swallowed back his fear as the chairman spoke again.

"Ms. Park."

His tone was low, impossibly so, almost like scratching the walls of an incomprehensibly deep cave, and the teacher raised her eyes to look at him.

"Have you made the call?"

"The… The call, sir?"

"I mean, did you call 911?"

"Oh! No, sir, I… I will call them right awa—"

"No, you won't."

"P-Pardon…?"

The teacher raised her head to fully look at the chairman, surprised by his instruction, but dropped her head again just as quickly. Silence reigned in the office as the chairman's cigarette burned on with the faintest of a crackling.

"If this goes public, it'll only make things more difficult, so don't call. Understood?"

"Yes…sir…"

There was clear confusion in her voice, and the chairman gritted his teeth as he glared at her again.

"Understood?"

"Y-Yes, sir!!"

"Dismissed."

Having escaped the jaws of the grizzly, the teacher let out a groan as she stood up, her knees aching in protest, and limped her way out of the office. The grizzly finished his cigarette, and his office became cloudy from all the smoke.

****

The boy was asleep, and he was aware that he was asleep. He tried to wake up, but he realized that he couldn't. He had never experienced anything like this before, so he wasn't sure what to do.

The boy could look around. He was asleep, but he could look around, and that surprised him. But all around him was darkness, and no matter where he looked, there was nothing for him to see.

Then he heard something. Something like a song, or perhaps someone reciting a poem.

Those who believe in superst.i.tions

End up losing their self.

Those who waste their lives on delusions

Lose their way in the forest of pride.

You, who tries to escape the labyrinth,

You have left a trail of injuries,

Inflicted upon you by none other than yourself.

Oh G.o.d above,

you have let chaos reign free,

return now and free us

from these self-indulgents.

Oh G.o.d above,

Living at the edge of the darkest nights,

Open the light and defeat the darkness.

Through your victory,

Set forth the era of the early dawn,

And the will of the clearest sky.

When the poem ended, the boy awoke.

End