Classroom of the Revenge

V3 - Chapter 2: Calm Before the Storm

The eyes. The eyes. I feel them. I feel them all. Their gazes burn. It burns. I hate it. I hate it. And yet, it doesn't end. They stay. The eyes stay. Why do they stay? Why?

"Leave!"

And yet, they never leave. It doesn't matter if I beg. They watch. They watch. They burn. They burn. Help. I beg. Anybody please save me.

However, no one comes. No will ever come. That is the reality. I will be watched. I will be burned. By the eyes. The eyes.

My life is the eyes. The eyes are my life. That is the reality. I am nothing more than what the eyes see. For what they see is reality. Yes, this is reality.

In time, I know I will be burned away. Their gazes will reduce my reality to ashes. But at this moment, I truly wonder what the eyes feel. I can only feel their gazes, nothing more.

My life, a portrait. A portrait that is viewed by the eyes. A portrait of entertainment. A portrait of use. A portrait of significance.

The eyes made me this way. There is nothing I can do. It is my burden. Yes. I accept it. It hurts. It burns. But it is necessary.

My use. My purpose. It will be fulfilled soon enough. I feel it in their gaze. Their pitying gazes are a different kind of burn. It is a cold burn. Like touching dry ice.

This burn will be the end of me, I know that. And yet, I sit in my portrait, accepting whatever comes my way. This is my burden.

They can watch. They can burn. They can pity. I can hurt. I can hate. I can beg. But this is my portrait. My purpose. My burden.

So I'm watched. I'm watched by the eyes. I'm burned. I beg. None of it matters. Because I was certain of one thing as I burn away.

They're all watching now.

* * *

The world of white. It surrounds me as I process the contents of the book. With nothing to cross reference with, this would be a challenging undertaking. And yet, I processed. I processed for a long time. I don't know how much time passed in this white world, but I continually processed the book. Searching for the answers.

After some time, I saw something. I saw it. I saw the answer. The answer to the language. I understood it. I understood it all. Each line falling into place. Each piece of the puzzle weaving together in the world of white. The lines all transform into a myriad of comprehensible sentences flying around me.

And then, it was over. The white was splotched out by color around me, the sentences dissipating, and I was back in my room. I turned on my phone and looked at the time. It was 12:31. Apparently it took about two and a half hours to solve the language.

I stood up and was hit with a wave of dizziness. I collapsed into my bed, and soon blacked out.

* * *

The following day, nothing much happened during classes. So, I headed to the technology club. Like last time, my clubmates were still dejected. And so, I moved on to the library. It seemed like my life was devolving into waiting for the moves of others. It was ironic. Truly.

I decided that I wanted to find some more strange books in the library. So, I began my search, looking for something comparable to yesterday's find. And yet, nothing.

"Ayanokoji? Do you need help looking for something?" Shiina asked me from behind.

I turned around and said "I was just looking for something like the book I found yesterday."

"Is that so?" She asked.

The two of us fell into silence as we browsed various books. Despite the silence, it wasn't like the silence of Class D or the silence of my club. It was different...