Chapter 8 – Acting Normal
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The classroom filled slowly, morning light spilling through the windows in streaks of pale gold. Students shuffled in with half-zipped bags and sleep in their eyes. The usual noise — casual chatter, chair legs dragging, distant laughter.
Save sat in his usual seat by the window, spine a little too straight, expression carefully neutral. He stared at his open notebook, though his pen hadn't moved in minutes. His heart felt slow, heavy. He didn't look up when Por arrived. He didn't even turn when Patji dropped into his chair with an exaggerated groan.
"You alive or just rehearsing for a statue role?" Patji asked, nudging Save's elbow with his own.
Save smiled faintly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Statues are quiet. Peaceful. Maybe I'm evolving."
Patji paused, watching him for a second. Then he let it go, shifting in his seat and launching into a joke about their math teacher's new haircut.
Then, Auau slid into the seat beside Save.
Save's hand visibly twitched.
For a moment, there was silence between them — too much silence.
Then Auau leaned in slightly, voice light, teasing, like always. "Hey… Black Cat. You okay?"
Save didn't look at him.
Auau gave a small, sheepish smile. "I mean, the doll version of you is probably still sitting on your shelf all moody."
Save's jaw tightened. He turned the page in his notebook — a little too forcefully — and muttered, "I'm fine."
"Right." Auau sat back slowly, the smile fading. "Good talk."
Silence again.
Around them, their classmates were talking loudly, swapping notes and snacks. But between them, it felt like a vacuum.
Auau tapped his pencil against the desk — not impatient, just fidgeting. His eyes drifted sideways to glance at Save's face, but Save didn't budge. He didn't look at him. Didn't speak.
Didn't want to.
And yet — he hadn't asked to switch seats either.
He was still here.
Auau opened his mouth to say something again — to bridge the space — but the bell rang. The teacher stepped in. The moment slipped away.
And Save stared forward with the same empty focus, like if he didn't move, maybe none of it would hurt.
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The fluorescent lights hummed faintly overhead as the students settled into the lab benches. Glassware clinked, worksheets rustled, and a faint smell of chemicals lingered in the air. The teacher's voice floated over the noise:
> "Alright, same groups as last week. Lab report due by tomorrow."
Save froze.
He glanced at the paper — and there it was. His name beside Auau, Por, and Patji.
Just great.
Dragging his feet, Save moved toward the bench, settling into the seat farthest from Auau. His fingers fiddled with the corner of his notebook, eyes lowered, avoiding everyone.
Auau slid onto the stool beside him with a crooked little smile, tapping a pencil against his palm. After a beat, he leaned in slightly and muttered, just loud enough for Save to hear:
> "Hey, Black Cat. Still mad at me?"
Silence.
Save didn't even blink.
> "Come on," Auau tried again, softer this time. "That's what I called you, remember? At the Hunter House?"
"Because of the doll?"
Save turned his face away, flipping through the pages of his lab notebook. The pages trembled slightly from his grip.
From across the bench, Por raised an eyebrow. He handed Save a measuring cylinder wordlessly, watching as Save took it without looking up. The silence between the two boys beside him was louder than anything.
Then Patji arrived late, dropping into his seat with his usual clatter. He glanced at Save once — briefly — then kept quiet. Even he could feel the weight in the air.
Minutes passed.
The group worked in stilted motions — weighing powders, reading instructions, scribbling equations. At one point, Auau reached across Save to grab a dropper, brushing his sleeve. Save flinched.
Por finally broke the silence.
> "Wow," he said casually, "this group has more static than a broken radio."
Patji snorted.
> "Maybe we should get lab coats and shields."
Por leaned back, teasing tone sharpening slightly as he looked between Save and Auau.
> "You two sure you didn't date and break up over vacation?"
Save's head snapped up.
Just for a second.
He looked at Por, then at Auau, who gave a nervous little laugh — not denying it, just awkward.
That was enough.
Save muttered something under his breath, something too low to hear, and stood up.
> "I'll get the distilled water," he said, not waiting for anyone's response.
As he walked away, his hands clenched into fists. Behind him, Por and Auau exchanged a glance. Por's brows furrowed. He was starting to get it — just a little.
And Patji, still watching quietly, leaned forward and whispered to Por:
> "Let him be. He's still figuring out where it hurts."
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It's been a few weeks since that day in the library — the crying, the comfort, the words Save never said aloud.
And ever since then, he's been trying. Really trying.
To smile.
To laugh.
To act like none of it ever happened. Like he didn't break a little.
But tonight, the silence is louder than usual.
His bedroom is dim, lit only by the faint glow of a streetlight filtering through the curtain. A textbook lies open on his desk — untouched. His phone buzzes once on the bed beside him.
[Message: Por — "You good? Want to VC for a bit?"]
Buzz.
[Message: Auau — "Still mad at me, Black Cat?"]
He doesn't open either.
He just stares at the screen until it fades to black. Then turns it over.
The black cat doll sits on his shelf. Quiet. Unmoving. It's been there the whole time — ever since that day at the Hunter House. He never put it away. He couldn't.
He glances at it. Looks away. Then back again.
And finally, he walks over, sits at the edge of his bed, and takes it into his hands. The soft fabric feels too warm against his skin. Too personal. Too real.
> "You gave me this…"
"...Then you chose someone else."
"What was I supposed to think?"
His voice is barely a whisper. Not angry. Just... tired.
He leans back against the wall, doll cradled against his chest.
Then, as if remembering something, he reaches for the magic book tucked beneath his pillow. A part of him is hoping it'll say something — anything — to make sense of how he feels.
He opens it.
Blank.
He flips the pages.
Nothing.
Then, finally, a sentence appears — just one, stretching across a faded page in slightly glowing ink:
> "Not all who lose their way are lost."
Save stares at it.
He doesn't understand. Not fully.
But something in his chest twists, a knot of emotion pulling tighter.
He closes the book slowly and sets it aside. Lays back on the bed, eyes tracing the ceiling. The black cat doll rests beside him now, his hand still gently gripping its paw.
And in the silence, he tries not to cry again.
Fade out.
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Afternoon. A warm buzz fills the classroom. Students are stretching, passing notes, and glancing at the whiteboard where the teacher is preparing to speak.
Teacher (clapping hands once):
"Alright, listen up, everyone! Exam schedules will be out by tomorrow morning. And—"
(a beat, with a smile)
"—after that, we're off for the annual school trip! One full week. Get ready!"
The room erupts. Chairs scrape. Someone lets out a dramatic "FINALLY!" from the back.
Save doesn't move. His phone screen lights up with a message. From Auau.
Just: "Hey. Can we talk?"
He locks the screen.
Por turns around in his seat, grinning, notebook half-closed.
Por:
"One week? I hope the cabins are haunted. That'd be fun."
Patji:
"You mean you hope they have good Wi-Fi."
They both laugh softly. Then Patji leans closer to Por.
Patji (quieter, almost to himself):
"You saw it too, right?"
Por (still half-smiling, avoiding Patji's eyes):
"The jealousy? Or the heartbreak?"
Patji:
"Both."
Por's smile fades a little. He shrugs.
Por:
"I was only teasing. I didn't think he'd bite."
Patji:
"Maybe next time… don't poke a wound."
Their eyes flick to Save.
He's quietly packing up, pointedly ignoring the glances Auau is throwing his way.
As he slings his bag over his shoulder—
Por (teasing, trying to lighten the mood):
"You should sit with Auau. Resolve your drama on the bus."
Save stops mid-step. His voice is low. Cold.
Save:
"Why don't you sit with him?"
Por's brows lift — not because of what was said, but the tone.
The flash of something raw underneath.
Save walks out.
Auau watches him go, unreadable. His hands are clenched on the strap of his own bag. The message he sent — still unread.
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— End of Chapter 8 —