Youthful Days (Book 1)

40. Blackout

Ayuna exhaled, suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion.

The night before, she was plagued by the same bad dream and hardly slept. Now, she was doused by ice-cold rain, chilled from the inside out, and locked in a chemistry lab. At this very moment, all she wanted was to sit down and close her eyes, even if it was only for a few minutes.

Before either one of them spoke again, another crash of thunder exploded, rocking the entire school building. The fluorescent lamps overhead blinked—once, twice—before extinguishing altogether.

Opaque darkness filled the room. Coupled with the frantic pattering of the rain, the lab suddenly took on a sinister feel.

"Of course the power would also go off." Ryoma planted himself on the lab stool with resignation. "This is one hell of a day."

There was no response. When he turned towards Ayuna, he noticed that she was bracing her arms, her complexion suddenly a ghastly shade of white as she breathed in and out with effort.

"Hey, Hanamachi," he called out. "What's the matter?"

Ayuna didn't answer right away. Her gaze was fixated on the door before darting to the mirror at the back of the lab. All of a sudden, she started to shiver uncontrollably. In a strained voice, she rasped, "The power's not going to come back on?"

"Doesn't seem like it..."

"And we're stuck here. In the dark."

"I guess so."

"Will you excuse me?" she said, her voice cracking. Before Ryoma could respond, Ayuna had skittered across the room and ducked underneath a lab bench.

Bewildered, Ryoma stood up and marched over to where she'd disappeared. Underneath the lab bench, he found Ayuna curled up in fetal position, her face pinched and her knees tucked close to her chest. Even in the dark, he could see her pupils dilating as she stared straight ahead.

He bent down until they were at an eye-level. "Are you okay?"

Stuck in paralysis, she looked at him but was unable to answer.

"I see." Ryoma knelt down. "You're afraid of the dark."

Still, no reply came.

"Are you embarrassed about it or something?"

"Of course I am," Ayuna whispered weakly, her lower lip trembling. "It's silly."

"That makes no sense. You're afraid when you're afraid. There's nothing silly about it."

"But only kids are afraid of the dark."

"Fear has no expiration date." He kept a close watch of her petrified expressions and chose his words cautiously, "So how bad is it for you—being in the dark?"

"Horrifying," she admitted.

Since seeing that frightening apparition in the mirror maze, Ayuna hadn't been able to shake it off. From that day on, she could no longer sleep in the dark. On clear nights, she'd keep the curtains drawn to let in the moonlight. On nights with overcast, she'd keep the nightlight on in hopes of warding off her nightmares.

When she spoke again, her small voice blended with the sound of rain incessantly tapping against the window panes. "Being in the dark is like being suffocated, like I'm laying in a coffin... Like death is coming."

Ryoma nodded.

"Weird, isn't it?"

He scrutinized Ayuna for another minute. Since their first meeting, Ryoma had always remembered her as a luminous figure, adored by anyone and everyone. She was the actualization of every ideal, someone without the slightest defect. Drowned by velvet shadows now, she seemed small and feeble.

"Not at all," he said at last. "If anything, that has to be the most human thing you've said."

Ayuna blinked. "I don't understand..."

"For a while, I thought you were emotionless—a machine with only logic and no heart." Ryoma smiled crookedly, "Just like me."

"That's not true. You do have a heart. You just don't want people to see it."

Ryoma shrugged. Instead of answering, he crawled under the lab bench and curled up beside her. The rectangular space was conveniently sized to occupy both of them as they sat shoulder-to-shoulder, their knees touching.

Taken aback by this gesture, Ayuna gawked at him. "You don't have to do this."

"I don't like to owe people," said Ryoma flatly. "Consider this a favor returned to you for tending to my wounds."

"It wasn't a big deal."

"Might not have been for you, but staying healthy is a big deal for me. Just look at what happened to our captain."

Ayuna nodded in agreement.

"Besides," turning to her, Ryoma's face was mere inches away, "you aren't alone."

Ayuna opened her mouth, yet no words came out.

For a moment, the only sounds in the room were their mismatched breathing intermingled with the pouring rain. From time to time, thunder growled in the distance while the wind whistled over the rooftops. An indescribable warmth enveloped Ayuna as his words sank in. Since she started having that terrifying dream, this was the reassurance she'd been waiting for. Somehow, Ryoma knew what she needed without any explanations.

Breaking eye contact first, he unzipped his jersey and wrapped it around Ayuna's shoulders. "Take this. Your lips are turning blue."

"Thank you." Ayuna tugged his jersey close until it fit snugly around her shoulders. Only then did she realize she was entirely soaked, the cold cotton material of her uniform clinging uncomfortably to her skin.

Darting her eyes back to the door, she asked, "Do you think someone will find us?"

Ryoma pretended to think about this. But in reality, he hoped not. Huddled together in the gauzy darkness, it felt as if they'd entered a secluded world that belonged to them and only them. He wished for the rain to go on and for time to stop.

Finally, he said, "Who knows? A janitor will eventually have to come before classes start tomorrow."

"Right," she sighed, "I hope so."

In the dark, Ryoma reached for Ayuna's hand.

She recoiled from his touch, but he held on tight.

"You're still afraid."

"I am," she said in a small voice.

"Even with me here?"

Instead of answering, she looked down: in the murky shadows, she could vaguely make out the outlines of their hands joined. It bewildered her to process this image. Ryoma never concerned himself with others' feelings or bothered with offering comfort. Yet, sitting close to each other in the damp laboratory, she sensed that an invisible barrier was about to be broken. It was the first time that friendship seemed concrete between them. She wouldn't ruin it by confiding in him her illogical fears.

"A little," she murmured. "I'm sorry. I'm not quite sure how to explain myself."

"You don't have to explain yourself."

"I know." With a tiny smile, she looked at him, "As much as I hate being stuck here, I'm glad it's with you."

Ryoma met her eyes. That turned out to be a dangerous move—he couldn't look away no matter how hard he tried. Ayuna's face was so close he could smell the scent of rain from her hair. Almost like he was being possessed, he lifted his free hand and touched her cheek.