Hisou cried out in anguish. Bakio had just fallen…what was she supposed to do? What would she do without him? Where could she go if Bakio had died? Light burst from her body and Hisou’s scream echoed for miles.

She returned to school that day a changed and broken woman. No one knew if the vivacious Hisou they had all known would ever return. After all, this silent, somber woman seemed so old and pained; that couldn’t be the same bright girl that had left. But everyone wondered: could it?

Hisou had become famous overnight with her triumph on Outer Earth after Bakio’s death. She had been asked if someone could write her biography, the request itself she had denied directly, however when she was alone, she wrote in a notebook that someday she planned to publish as an autobiography.

Hitodama Seishou was the very same the day I entered it as the way you know it now. Four wings comprised of solid, stern-looking gray cement buildings. The passage of time has the most miniscule of effects on it in all of its glory and pride.

But I'm sure the history of my honorable school is something I can sneak to you in small doses. No doubt, if you are reading this, it is myself, Hisou Ruren, in which you are most interested. Or perhaps it is the wonder if the wild rumors I myself am only scarcely aware of are true. On the other hand, it may have been picked up by accident. I wouldn’t know, nor am I writing to ask.

The first thing I would like to say is that without Bakio, whom I shall mention frequently, I would in no uncertain terms be dead. He saved my life more times than I can count. And really, in the end I never returned that favor once. He died in the pursuit of my safety, an act I am not apt to forget.

I met Bakio my first day at Hitodama Seishou. He was the most peculiar person I’d ever met, and he fascinated me. He was popular with the other girls in our class; I never understood why he chose me to be his girlfriend. But he did, and in the end I suppose that’s what lasts. He and I had more fun together during school than on a real date; I guess because both of us loved what we learned. Which brings me to how I met Bakio.

The very first day, all of the new students were told to stand in a single-file line and remain totally quiet. We did, of course, and a teacher came around and whispered a number to us. We were then instructed to group ourselves with people who had numbers the same as ours.

But no two people had the same number. All 200 of us were totally baffled, except for Bakio.

“Are you all morons?” he asked us, “Like numbers, that’s evens and odds.” And he proceeded to ask every last one of us our numbers and put us where he felt we belonged.

“What if you’re wrong?” I asked when he got to me, “You’ll look pretty dumb after calling us morons.”

“I can’t be wrong. There’s no right answer, so there can’t be a wrong one. The fact that no one would do anything except stand around looking confused gives me license to call you stupid.”

I thought Bakio was crazy and more than a little rude, but the teachers seemed happy enough with his results, and what more than that could a person ask as verification? A lot, in my opinion, which seems to hold high weigh these days.

“Hisou, you awake?” Someone asked, gently knocking on her door.

Hisou opened her door and smiled briefly at her friend Tara.

“You’re going to miss dinner if you don’t come down now.”

Hisou nodded in acceptance and turned back towards her room.

“Are you still refusing to talk?”

Hisou looked at Tara through watery eyes. It had been three weeks, and she still hadn’t brought herself to tell anyone she was incapable of speech. Tara would understand, Hisou was sure, but it was the strength it took to tell someone that Hisou couldn’t muster.

Hisou sighed and pulled Tara into her room. Tara sat on Hisou’s bed and checked her watch. Hisou was having second thoughts about telling Tara of her plight. Nevertheless, she ripped a page from her notebook and wrote the words,

Tara, I can’t talk anymore.

Tara took the paper and read it several times. “Are you sure?”

Hisou gave her a venomous look.

“We should have the nurse look at you, then. I bet she can fix it. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

It’s kind of embarrassing. It probably doesn’t make sense to you, but I mean, if you were this big hero who saved Inner and Outer Earth, would you really come home and say, “I can’t make noise”?

“No one expected you to come back unscarred.”

This isn’t a scar.

“You never know. Well anyway, we’ll get some food in you, then go to the nurse.”

Hisou nodded, folded the paper into her pocket, threw a pen in her school bag, and followed Tara to the dining hall.

Two days after Hisou’s return from Outer Earth, people still cheered whenever they saw her. Meals were no exception, and when Hisou walked in late escorted by Tara, the room burst into hoots and applause.

“Yo! Give the woman some peace, huh?” Tara demanded angrily. “Hey, I like the attention. I’ll have to start going everywhere with you, yeah?” Tara joked quietly to Hisou, who responded with a tired expression.

The conditions at their normal table were no different. Hisou was confused. Had the table always been so loud? How could she have tolerated all that loud noise? It must have been different when Bakio was beside her. He must have made up for all of the raucous commotion.

Before she knew it, Tara was tugging on Hisou’s elbow to leave. The two girls walked through the halls in silence. Hisou was vaguely aware that the lack of speech made the walk less pleasant, but couldn’t be entirely sure. She’d never had a good trip to the nurse’s office.

“Oh, hello girls. Who’s got the problem?” The nurse asked cheerfully as she administered a foul smelling substance to a boy in bed.

“Nurse, could we talk to you in private?”

“Well of course! Anything for you two.”

“Thanks.”

“Now then,” the nurse said, smiling unsurely, “What’s so lucrative about hush-hush?”

“Hisou can’t talk.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean she opens up her mouth and all that comes out is air.”

“So that’s why she’s been so quiet these past few days...well, open up, dear, let me have a look.”

The nurse shined a light into Hisou's throat and glimpsed about it.

“Well, there’s some dreadful scar tissue in there. Have you been having problems breathing?”

Hisou shrugged.

“Well here, take a tablespoon of this,” the nurse teetered on her chair to reach a bottle, “Twice a day. Don’t try to speak at all for two weeks. I think by then your problem should be quite over. Just direct your teachers to the problem, and I think you’ll be just fine.”

Thank you very much Hisou scribbled and left the nurse’s office with Tara in toe.