The Boy With The Blank Stare: Future

Chapter Twenty Two: Starry Night

The Tale Of Ouma Kokichi
November 14th 20XX
Tojo Kirumi

There was once a group called DICE in my school. They had been there for as long as I could've remembered, but if we are to name specifics it was in the fall of 20XX, or when I was nine years olds.

That was when Ouma Kokichi came into our lives. Even to this day I remember the look in his eyes, there was such an abundance of life in them. Youthful energy that competed with the sun, and he introduced himself as a leader. Or to quote, a supreme leader.

I would have laughed if not for the sincere serious way he proudly declared that to us all. He seemed to have no regard for where he was or the eyes that watched him. Unapologetically himself to the highest regards, even back then I recognized the life and normal routine I had lived before would forever change.

But DICE wasn't just Ouma, nine other classmates made up our infamous group.

Before they were just unfortunately quiet and introverted groups of children. Ones rarely pulled into events and blended into the nameless background of the classroom.

The day after Ouma had arrived, it was the day we truly met them. The next day our class was covered in plastic bottles.

It was strange and unclear why this had happened, and when our teacher had walked in she was alarmed and was quick to interrogate us all to find the culprit.

The culprits came in with checkered scarves and proud smirks. It didn't take a genius to figure it out, and while they were always punished time and time again they always rose to come up with new pranks and new ways to shock us all.

Back then it did irritate me on occasion when the target happened to be me. But I will be the first to say it was rarely malicious, more of a small minor yet always amusing inconvenience.

I could list on one hand the times they went too far, and one was a lie.

The first was when our school had been graffitied with spray paint and eggs by other students. The next day those students found their desks on the roof, their shoes replaced with clown ones, their hair dyed pink and feathered.

Safe to say the incident never occurred.

The next was a particular nuisance, a textbook case of a school bully. That young man found himself one day with a rigged contraption firing spicy mayo into his face.

When he didn't learn his lesson the first time, the second punishment was his gym clothes replaced with a floor-length ballgown.

I'm honored to say I was given a replica by one of them on my birthday that year when I was awed by the craftsmanship, only to discover one of them had made it.

I still had that gown, it's my pride and joy. It's what brings such pain to my heart when I remember what happened.

The fourth time was the beginning of the end, while not inflicted on the school this was their true act of vandalism. A small convenience store had been destroyed, I was horrified when I discovered they were the ones who committed that act.

Fear consumed me, that this would become the new norm. It didn't help they had picked up smoking or were rumored to be drinkers and addicts. Part of me mourned that day for the young childish pranks I had come to admire.