Just Trust Me

Chapter 1

There were eyes staring at him. This would normally be a good thing, but it is night and no one is supposed to be in his room. The forecast told him that it would be a good night, a clear night, but the moon is playing hide-and-go-seek with the earth. It makes his room a stitched shadow.

Their breath is hesitant, melodic. They know they are caught but they are not sure how to go on. They shift, swallow, scratch at their head, and they are still. And so Kiba closes his eyes.

They are not startling, those eyes. They are a nightly occurrence and now they are welcomed, expected. Those eyes are midnight, midnight against the blueblack of his room. They shine with - with what? With glee, yes. Glee and mirth at his calm. As if the next time he demands - anything - it will be them.

No one is allowed in the dorms after dark. No-one, and that is a rule that will get you demerits, but this being somehow managed to slip through the barking voice of his superior and lay still in his room. And now they grin. They grin and Kiba is seeing glaring white, smiling white, dangerous white in the corner of his room. It is suffocating, from 10 feet away, and he wonders if he could move if he got any closer.

They move - those eyes, that grin - to the middle of the room, closer and closer still. When they are standing at his bedside, all he can do is stare at those staring eyes. They reach down, down, down towards his face and when all is midnight again, it is gone. His room is empty, his bed has no partner. It is gone.

And Kiba does not feel right.

.o.

Mornings were a stressful thing, an aggravating thing. It started with knocks, bam, bam, on his door and ended with the exhilarating rush of smiles dragging him down the hall. Friends were a stressful thing, an aggravating thing.

They kept him on his feet. With them, there was no 'do it later', there was no 'maybe next time'. It was now, now, now. They were constantly moving, exploring, learning, and there was no time to think about anything.

(And maybe that is why it came at night. When there was nothing else to think about.)

Their teacher, a 6 foot dolphin with spiked hair, was always laughing. You made a mistake? Oh, it's alright. Laugh. You failed an exam that I told you to study for? It's fine. Laugh. You cannot sleep at night? You are a mess of a person? Oh, amazing! Laugh. Laugh.

He was kind, honest, though. He helped kids that did not deserve help, let you move on if you were ready, gave attention to everyone so that no-one felt left out. But he was naïve, thoughtless. He looked at you and smiled, but the deeper things he was okay with not knowing. The problems and worries were not for him.

But there was no time to think about that.

History, first. Then Phys Ed, Math, Lunch. Social Sciences in the noon, and English to top it off. Boom, boom, no time to think, no time to worry. After-school clubs, after-school programs, sports, academics. Everything you need, but nothing you want. His school was a chamber, a giant bastille that fooled you with food and security and encouragement.

Kiba.

His head lifted. Yes?

Kiba, what was the name of the volcano that erupted on Pompeii?

Mount Vesuvius. It was thought to have been a home for gods and was worshipped reverently. People prayed to it, left offerings. It was their one source of comfort, knowing that a higher power held control over them.

Good. And the dolphin smiled. You are a good kid, Kiba. I appreciate your hard work and perseverance in my classes.

No, he did not. He did not appreciate anything because there was no appreciation needed. Kiba was not a good person, but the teacher did not need to know that. Kiba didn't get any sleep at night. He had nightmares. He thought only what he needed to. He was blank, a robot.

But the teacher did not need to know that.

.o.

Back in the dorm, he slipped away, away into the shower where he could think and not be afraid to. The steam, the sound, the dripping smell had always calmed him. It let him have an idea of security in this secure building. It let him imagine a place away from the conformity of the sea. The water pounded down around him, like bullets, bang, bang.

The water was cleansing his body, and his mind. It erased his fears and let him smile, at least for a little while. He knew that when he came out, he would have to face the sea again. He would have to face the sea with vacant eyes and clammy smiles.

It was trouble. He was not trouble, no, but the trouble was within everyone else, and they were too frightened to let it out. Like he, but they were saner, more accustomed to the load. They were used to the fake laughter and hesitant talk, but he was not. It was his first year here and he was drowning.

When he stepped out, his reflection mocked him, snickering at his vulnerable state. Just keep moving, right? One foot in front of the other and maybe, just maybe, things will work themselves out. Maybe they will work out, and maybe you will be able to go back home. Maybe they will stop staring at you and smile instead. Maybe. Right?

But he ignored it, ignored it like he did each time. He did not need it, he did not want it; the voices would run their course and leave him in anticipation for the next visit.