A Ballet of Thoughtcrime

"You know all too well: I know Kitty, you're the main instigator to an uprising against Mikhail Salazar's movement to Iyashikei," I, the scornful subject, accused the cat.

"So, are we going to take this to court?" was her reaction when I said she was my prime suspect.

Okay, I should have considered.

I took it out on her─and I forgot the code for a minute.

Unbeknownst to you, South High School has its detective code: when accusing a person and you're mistaken, then you shall be expelled. Since its foundation in the 60s, it has been the South High School's ironclad rule, and no false accuser has been able to escape being thrown out. Less of a legal action, more of a sport─a ruse of an entertainment I've always found devious.

Uh, I'd rather not get into an acute dilemma.

Besides, how do you explain the butterflies for an audience who doesn't have them?

Nonetheless, it's tomfoolery, and none of us would give it a serious thought.

And in case she does, I would hear either her or my sister say, "I wonder where else you will be picked up if you're kicked out."

Fortunately, this time around, Kitty chose to nitpick on something, "Iyashi… kei?"

I nodded, twice, huffing confidence.

Yes, that Japanese subgenre which offers "healing" contents, tactically invented to soothe the tired population of today.

For the middle children of history, I know I'm destined for that role in digression to being this drab of disdainful supernatural existence.

But, of course, she also wouldn't take me seriously, saying, "Dude, you're not soothing anyone's soul if they decided to look at you the whole day."

With the kind of awareness I have, yes, it's a far dream to be realized. Least I can enjoy would be the thought. From a saddening thought, like how Neil Perry dreamed of theater.

"And to address your problem, devilish big brother, this Primrose girl…I don't like her at all!"

And I'm not surprised…I might only be splitting hairs, but that came outta nowhere.

Nefarious in her smirk, she took it upon herself to unjustly accuse, "If you didn't make her trip and injure her ankle, I would have."

"Mm-hmm, fair observation, but what evidence do you have against me for that?" I shook my head.

Read aloud, a simpler problem I can have the school assessed. I definitely can hold myself to this problem and win, getting Kitty expelled. Sound accusation volleyed after I ridiculously embroiled myself earlier.

"You jest," she dismissed. "I can easily turn the tables on you. It's not your first crime."

Alright, so like I said, we're not going to take this seriously.

"Primrose wants you to awaken her, right? You could have just awakened her and I'd be happy to help with the cleaning," Kitty continued, her nonchalance overshadowing the corridor. "She knows what you are anyway, she'll just be part of the club."

"No, it won't happen on my watch."

Thank you for the concern, but I'd firmly preserve a dictum.

"Bitch please, you're just paranoid," she scoffed. "I've been constantly using my powers for the past four years and where do I stand today?"

"Safe and sound," I seconded.

You're wrong though, my dear Kitty. Such an excuse doesn't work due to common sense. I'd gripe, as she's only fortunate, a heightened theory of mind requires little effort to hide─albeit the hardest to control.

I'd be sidetracked to praise how she handled the toll for four years now.

"And the same applies to you," she concurred.

Thanks, but yeah, it comes as useless in our circle.

I can't even extract information from you.

I suppose when you've gone to four years of strengthening the mind, you've already known the thought process of the fools trying to cold read you. Utterly despicable in a sense that you need to learn how to swindle people. Else, you're only superficial despite your abilities.

"Ah, yeah, that thing doesn't apply to you," she digressed. "Unfortunately, you're an open book."

Regeneration would pass off as in the same regard but has a tangible form. Alright, speaking in the middle of a monologue sure does ruin immersion. Never mind, I'll continue: Meanwhile, what happens if it's the ability to fly or move objects again?

I refuse to become this reality's version of Professor X.

No superheroes, or supervillains, shall exist in a world already infested by mayhem. I'm only an eighteen-year-old high school student, fearing the future. Not in my command would I spearhead the mutant saga.

"Pa! Pa! Pa! Paranoia!" And Kitty danced to the resonation of her voice. "And besides, you're more of a Magneto."

Tsk, we'll get flagged.

"You're worried about that part? Chill, it's mechanical," she retorted, sagacious in her smirk while singing the same phrase without emotion. "You know, Mika, you don't even know if you're the only person like you."

And true enough, I don't know nor believe such a superfluous claim.

"That's too far of a topic," I dismissed. "More importantly, are you trying to wreck what I'm trying to build?"

Our gazes met, firmly and without the merit of doubt.

Kitty Crowninshield, the first thrall, and Mikhail Salazar, the count, took it upon themselves to not show those icky emotions.

Until then, the black child sighed and waved the white flag.

"You shouldn't blame the least likely person to betray you." Kitty shook her head, a dreadful exasperation permeating from her inner hatred.

I relaxed.

"I do have the most obvious suspect, I just don't want to go around accusing people," I said.

"Well, I'm not one of those people from your perspective!" Gasped out by the asshole's remark, Kitty bantered─and I earned zero sympathizers out of her six trillion winged abominations.

"Of course, you're a kitten," I reasoned.

Kitty only sighed, notwithstanding the ridiculous argument born out of innocence.

No mumbles, no speech, only silence. I suppose the only reverberations were of her footsteps coming close to the vending machine. Sooner, it was the mechanical wringing born out of her fetching a warm can of oden. I…squeezed the can of coffee on my hand, as it's been consumed.

I hadn't realized.

"I'm off somewhere," I said, bidding her farewell.

And she said, "Take care, Mika."

I didn't know nor imagined─that this was our last calm conversation.