Nobody

Chapter 4

Reminiscent of the questionable vehicle that inducted Kioshi's missing sister, a faded blue pick-up truck—one that matched the visual description in a CCTV footage—peeked from the shadows of an open garage.

Kioshi paid attention to its visibly crinkled bumper and shattered headlights. From this observation alone, he'd drawn the conclusion that the vehicle had been, indeed, part of a vehicular collision and Maxwell was explicitly involved in it, too.

However, Maxwell assaulted the mechanic with a barrage of allegations, and it reminded him of when Officer Walt unpacked a heavy accusation at Shoji. A grimace took charge over Kioshi's body for a moment.

Gripping the handles of his bike, Kioshi strutted over to the lawn, about to make himself known to a potential suspect. He left his bike laying on the grass. And then, he mustered up the courage to position himself in front of the door. He lifted his fist and rapped his knuckles against the wood.

Knock. Knock.

Bushes rustled from behind, luring a somewhat paranoid examination from Kioshi, albeit briefly. He narrowed his eyes as the wind paced around, making leaves sing in its path.

Then, his eyes shifted back to the door as it opened. Bart Everton peered at him from within, a gradual but certain recognition twisting his face. It transitioned into question—a kind of wonder—as to why Kioshi would be on his porch.

He'd thought of other things, most were in concern of his own safety. "It's you," said Bart, his eyes wide.

"May we talk for a bit?" Kioshi raised an eyebrow.

Bart fixed his eyes on the ground, absorbed in the contemplation. Then, he matched his visitor's hopeful gaze. "Is this about Maxwell?"

Kioshi sighed. "Could be related to him once I get my answers."

"A-answers?" Bart invented his own stutter, pretending to be anxious. Kioshi knew.

"Well, if you'd be willing to clear your name regarding that incident over there. Then, you're good to go," Kioshi said as he gestured at Bart's pick-up truck. "Come on. You don't need to shy around and hide the details. I can help you out here. And you could do the same when you entertain my questions."

Bart had no choice. He thought that there'd be nothing else to hide except his own truth. Therefore, he exhaled in defeat and submitted himself to wherever Kioshi's little interrogation would bring him, even if that meant crossing uncomfortable boundaries. Bart pushed himself and signaled Kioshi to follow him to the open garage. "I know what you're thinking… Maybe this weirdo bashed his car against Maxwell's."

"That's what the rumors say," Kioshi confirmed. "But I want to actually hear your side of the story."

A chuckle reverberated through the space. One palm rested on the hood of his truck, Bart relayed general information. "Of course. They'd stir the worst kind of cloud over me, especially that Rupert girl. God, she can't ever keep her mouth shut. Sniffing in other people's businesses. Proceeding to blare all sorts of whispers across the school."

The name rang a bell. Kioshi shared the limelight of the conversation to a certain identity at Penhearte High. "Rupert? As in Chelsea Rupert? The president of Speech Club?"

"You know her. I know her. She's popular amongst different friend groups. Whenever people needed something to talk about, they turn to her like she's some sort of radio deity." Bart shook his head to oppose that notion. He was against every other lie, every other rumor, and every other uncertainty carved by glittery gossip-laden lips. "She's not. She just cashes in on the problems of others and makes it an opportunity to become the source of purpose. A purpose that is so dramatically pathetic."