You notice him in the empty school hallway—a thin boy in an old uniform, his head down.He turns to you and bows abruptly.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry for standing here… for looking… for being…”

Before you can respond, he bows again, and again.

“I’m sorry for the using air… for the sound of footsteps… for this building…”

A scream comes from the next classroom. You turn around — one of the students is literally melting on the floor, his skin dripping like candle wax.You look at the guy again.

He's not looking at you. He's just whispering, getting quieter and quieter:

—I'm really sorry

only now do you notice a slight smirk on his face, but the shouting in the background prevents you from focusing on it.