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墨書 Inktalez
The next day, I was the first to arrive at school, sitting at my desk with my eyes fixed on the door, watching my classmates enter one by one. After yesterday's incident, they all seemed wary of me, filled with unspoken anger, occasionally stealing glances in my direction before quickly turning away.
I didn’t see his figure until class started, but I didn’t care at all. My gaze remained cold as I stared at the blackboard, my heart devoid of any turmoil.
Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly heard someone call my name. I snapped back to reality and looked up to see the teacher approaching.
The teacher informed me that my parents were at school.
Parents? I froze for a moment, a wave of doubt washing over me: Could Father really bring Mother back to life?
How could that be possible? Confusion filled my mind as I pushed my desk away, deliberately stomping my foot to make a loud noise. With a defiant and uneasy expression, I strode toward the Disciplinary Office.
When I reached the Disciplinary Office, I found three people inside: the principal, Father, and a woman.
She was wearing clothes very similar to Mother's; the familiar style and color made my heart race with fear at first glance, almost sending me into a panic.
I widened my eyes as an absurd thought flashed through my mind: Could it be some kind of necromancy like Corpse Driving? The idea sent chills down my spine, and my feet felt as if they were nailed to the ground, unable to move an inch.
As I cautiously approached and took a closer look, I realized she wasn’t my Mother. I let out a small sigh of relief, but my confusion only deepened.
Father was dressed in a formal suit today, his hair seemingly styled with care, making him appear much more spirited.
When he saw me enter, he gave me a slight smirk that felt somewhat forced before turning back to listen to the principal’s conversation, leaning slightly forward with a look of eagerness on his face.
Their conversation was nearing its end when the Director of Education raised his voice in front of Father, likely emphasizing the school's discipline and his authority. With that, the incident regarding the fight seemed to come to a close.
"These are new shoes that your mother and I bought for you. Hurry up and put them on!"
The woman produced a brand new pair of Nike shoes from seemingly nowhere and handed them to me with both hands.
I looked at the shoes, feeling a mix of emotions.
I had gone to great lengths for them, yet now that they were in my hands, I felt a sense of melancholy. I couldn't manage to smile; instead, I stared blankly at the shoes, my eyes vacant.
"Why aren't you thanking your mother yet?" Father's tone was laden with implication. He frowned slightly, his eyes betraying a hint of urgency, as if urging me to comply quickly.
"Oh." I turned to look at the woman, my lips moved as I softly said, "Thank you, Mom."
I had never said such words to Mother before, yet now I found myself saying them to a stranger, which felt incredibly uncomfortable. It was as if something was lodged in my throat.
Now I finally understood why Father was scolded mercilessly by Mother; he never defended himself and seemed like a natural punching bag. But in reality, it must be that Mother had evidence of his infidelity. The thought filled me with a twinge of disgust and disappointment towards Father.
"Well, we're leaving now." Father bid farewell to the Director of Education with a false smile plastered on his face, bowing slightly.
I followed them out of the Disciplinary Office, my steps heavy and my mood particularly oppressive.
The woman linked her arm with Father's in a practiced manner, suggesting their affair had been going on for quite some time. Watching their intimate interaction sent a sharp pain through my heart.
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