The city was a blur of neon, icy wind cut through the night sky like a jagged knife. William Sik's frail eyes caught a faint glow from the bluish light. He grimaced and squinted, raising a hand to shield it from the harsh brightness.
A jolt of relief ran through him as he cast a sidelong glance at the bus, which stood still a short distance away from him.
Sliding off the bench where he had sat for hours, he stretched his legs, cursing under his breath. "Damn it, almost had a cramp."
Then, William turned and trudged toward it, but immediately stopped in his tracks, feeling an inexplicable strangeness emanating from it.
"What the hell is that?"
He gave the bus an intense look, shrugged off his uneasy nerves, and proceeded to get a better glance.
The lighting was poor. Nonetheless, through the insubstantial wisp of fog shrouding the area, he spotted the rusty bus that looked centuries old, its aberrant rooftop appearing as if covered in roots.
But what truly caught his attention was the faintly gleaming blue crest. The perplexing symbol seemed to depict two roses above two crossed swords and a wand, with uncertain letters etched along the bottom.
William squinted at the words and could conclusively make out the letters.
"Aizawl University." As soon as he read them, he could almost immediately make out something uncanny about the name, as no such university existed nearby.
The faint buzzing from the bus grew into an oppressive hum, wrapping itself around him. Consequently, his weariness enveloped his entire body, becoming as though it were a physical weight.
Then, he heard a voice quietly humming to itself.
Reflexively, he raised his head, and a pair of bright golden eyes met his gaze. The indistinct figure sitting inside was staring straight at him.
"Such a great sight, a customer at this hour?"
The man's voice seemed delighted, staring further down at him.
William was more than a little on edge, and despite his attempts to calm himself, he was extremely anxious about this situation, which was clearly written all over his face.
"Oh my, are you perhaps coming in, young man?"
'I would rather not if I had any choice at all.'
He swiftly lowered his head, adjusting his backpack with jerky movements. Letting out a long, shuddering sigh, he pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through his messages.
(Did ya really assume we would wait for ya?)
Rubbing his eyes, he read the message again. It was as unmistakable as it was infuriating. Unquestionably, his kendo club mates—those bastards — had left him behind. Certainly, it was absurd on his part to think otherwise.
He let out another exasperated sigh, the sound sharp in the night.
"Ah! Bastards. They made excuses and definitely made the bus leave early. I should have bailed early, too."
William's brows twitched with distaste as he checked the time. Surely, he would be forced to run twenty laps in some unforgiving manner for missing practice, but if one considered this cursed vehicle... his only sane option was to go back home.
He knew it instinctively, without further thought. But for some inexplicable reason, he could not move a single step.
The man, as though noticing William's weary state, stretched a hazy, indistinct hand toward him.
"Oh my, come in, young man. Aren't you late? Despite how the bus looks, it's been healthy for almost a decade."
'That's a pleasing way to describe a rust bucket,' William thought. He desperately wanted to say this aloud, but not a word would leave his twitching lips.
For a person with little sense of existence, he was never really good at anything peculiar. However, his choice of joining kendo hadn't been difficult for anyone to understand: his instincts were surprisingly sharp. Right now, that very instinct was screaming, telling him to leave immediately. But before he could even realize, he was stepping closer.
Without further resistance, letting out a deep, resigned breath, he made his way toward the door and got inside. The man still unnerved him, he kept his face hidden under the brim of his hat, staring straight ahead while softly humming.
The bus was empty, but the broken, almost-rotting seats made it clear no sane person would dare take a ride on this thing.
"All good, just a strange bus with a gentleman company!" He let out an awkward, forced chuckle.
Despite its pleasing sound, it made no difference. His heart hammered against his ribs, loud enough to shatter the oppressive silence.
Clothes soaked entirely in warm sweat. He made his way to the last seat, his gaze intense. Indeed, he could be called frightened, but he couldn't grasp what was exactly wrong. The trouble was everywhere, and nowhere at all.
If William had considered and had contacted his parents, he wouldn't have landed in such a situation. However, there was a problem that made it extremely difficult. To begin with, his current relationship with his parents could be simply described as strangers, and the hurdle of asking them proved too much for him.
As far as that was concerned, even if he did call, what would he say? He could barely remember the last time they had a proper conversation.
While lost in thoughts, he looked around with curiosity, noting that the bus was, beyond doubt, worthy of being called ancient. The man inside looked old, too, but at least he seemed like a gentleman.
William nodded, imagining how he might look if he were to match the gentlemanly aura he had assigned.
A few minutes of intense stare, he yawned giving up, while, the man began a soft, fluent rhythm.
"O, my dear Peace Rosa, you cannot bloom by clinging to the seed. Let go of the soil that binds the past, and turn your petals toward the sun anew—the most radiant flower you shall be."
His voice carried a hint of sadness, yet it was warm and comforting, like being enveloped in a giant hug. William's eyes felt heavy; he stared into the distant night sky through the window, dozing off, then slapped his cheeks, using the pain to force himself to stay awake.
Regardless, his consciousness slipped.
Closing his eyes slightly, he felt like the air inside was hauntingly comfortable, giving him the ultimate sense of security; as moments passed by, his vision became hazier, and he couldn't make out the surroundings.
'Well, it's no harm. I might as well have a nap.'
Before he completely lost his grip, he heard the man's voice whisper nearby.
"Don't worry, soon we shall be there."
'Shut up, let me sleep.'
William had never encountered anything like this before, but he no longer cared. The only thing he could think about was the certainty that he could have the luxury of sleep right now.
Fully surrendered to weariness, William hugged his bag tightly and leaned back.
Every sound grew more and more distant. Then, the bus suddenly shook violently, jolting him awake. He glanced around frantically; the world around him seemed to be falling apart, shaking back and forth.
"What's the problem, sir?!" he shouted in his panicked state.
However, he got no response, which made him even more wary of the situation. He abruptly stood up, barely managing to stay upright, and headed toward the man.
Yet again, William felt utterly wordless as his hand passed through the man's shoulder, like he was trying to touch a wisp of fog. Then, before he could process the impossible, everything around him was swallowed into complete darkness.
He didn't even know where he was, whether he was sitting or standing. Shoving his hands around, he tried to grab hold of the surroundings and make his way toward his bag, but he noticed that he couldn't move his limbs the way he wanted them to.
The shaking grew more violent, and his forehead hit against something. Similar to a rag ball, he was tossed here and there uncontrollably; the constant collisions began making him dizzy.
'I knew it… this was a bad idea!'
"Hold tight, young man!" the man jovially advised, as if this were a normal commute. A substantial heat followed the words as William braced his hands against the ground.
In the next second, a soaring ache radiated through his head, and an excruciating pain gripped his whole body. His abdomen slammed onto something hard, and he instantly curled himself into a tight ball
His current circumstances became more incomprehensible; it seemed like he was locked up somewhere, lacking a way to out. The pressure, rather than just hurting, felt like a firm, crushing restraint, squeezing the air from his lungs.
His body grew damp and grime. His head throbbed, and a blinding flash of pain ran down his side.
All he could feel was primal fear rising inside him.
"Oh my, isn't he the young man I was attending to?..." The voice chuckled. "What a turn of events, Headmaster Raven."
The casual, emphasizing tone—as though this were a funny mishap—enraged William. Yet, at this point, the emotions dwelling out of him were nothing more than a joke; however, he couldn't really laugh at it.
"Ou!" he cried out loud as another hard surface struck his head.
"Where am I?" He felt queasy, and his voice echoed oddly through the darkness.
He tested his limbs, attempting to curl his legs. A wave of relief washed over him when he confirmed he could move freely again. Though still in pitch-black, he clearly sensed he was no longer on the bus.
Then, the surroundings abruptly began to light up. His vision was bleary at first, causing him to grimace and rub them. It then softened into a faint white fog before adjusting to the gloom.
William glanced around, dazed, at the unfamiliar place.