Chereads / Apocalypse After School / Chapter 7 - The Haircut

Chapter 7 - The Haircut

"So… what do we do next?" Kazuki's voice broke through his thoughts, and Isamu looked up, surprised the teacher was asking him.

"Uh… I guess we should pack some food and get ready to make our way to the fire escape." He shifted slightly, the weight of responsibility unfamiliar. "But first, we need to start rationing what food we have here."

Kazuki nodded thoughtfully, clearing his throat. "I was thinking about that too." He glanced away, the lines on his face deepening. "Honestly, I want to leave this place as soon as possible, but I can't abandon you kids here alone." He paused, his voice softening. "I have to find my wife."

Isamu raised his eyebrows. 'He's married? He doesn't look much older than us; I didn't think he had anyone that important to him.'

Kazuki continued, "Once you're all safe on the roof, I'll be going to look for her. I don't want to put you all at risk by asking you to come with me, but… if any of you want to leave with me, you can." He looked at Isamu with a strange conviction. "You're smart enough to keep them alive."

Isamu chuckled lightly, almost reflexively. "What makes you think that?"

Kazuki smiled faintly, though his eyes were shadowed. "Your plan to go to the roof… it's the best plan we've got. And you thought about the janitor's keys too. Meanwhile, all I'm thinking about is how I can get back to my wife." He paused. "You kids don't need that."

'He's right, we don't, Isamu thought. In fact, it could put us more at risk. But at least he's honest with himself. He knows the risks and took one just to kill one of those things.' Isamu's gaze lingered on Kazuki's hands, still faintly trembling from the earlier encounter. 'He's our teacher, and he feels responsible. That could be useful.'

Kazuki stood up, moving toward the kitchen in silence, his silhouette framed against the dim light filtering through the cafeteria windows. Isamu stayed where he was, mentally sizing up the man's strengths. 'He's athletic—plays basketball on the weekends, if I remember right. Perfect for my plan to reach the roof. He knows where the phones are and is willing to take risks. Yeah… he's definitely going to be on phone duty.'

Kazuki returned, holding out a bottle of water to him as he sat down again. "Your hair's a bit...big," he observed, looking at the tangled strands hanging down past Isamu's ears. "You should cut it. Wouldn't want it to be the reason you get caught by one of those things."

Isamu considered this, running a hand through his hair. 'He's right. It could be a hazard… especially since I've noticed that it blocks my hearing. I've always thought my sharp hearing was a curse, but maybe it can help now, even if it hurts.'

"You're right, but I don't think a barber's coming by anytime soon."

Astrid's voice piped up from the table across from them. "I could cut it for you." She looked a bit nervous, fiddling with her hands. "I, uh… I have scissors in my bag, and I've done it before."

Kazuki grinned, nodding. "Well, there's your barber."

Isamu forced a small, uneasy smile. "Right."

A few minutes later, Isamu sat on one of the tables, shirt off, with Astrid standing behind him. She held a pair of scissors, her hands visibly shaking. Isamu glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the scissors warily.

"Are you sure you can do this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "With everything going on, it'd be pretty pathetic if I died because you stabbed me in the back of the head with those things."

She let out a soft laugh, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She reached up and carefully lifted a lock of his hair, her face focused as she began cutting rough, uneven chunks.

After a few moments of quiet, she spoke up, her voice tentative. "Hey, Isamu… can we talk for a bit?"

"It's not like I have a choice," he replied, sighing.

"I never apologized for… you know, last time." She paused, her hands freezing mid-cut as she blinked back tears. "What I did was…" Her voice cracked, the words dying in her throat.

Without turning his head, Isamu reached into his bag, pulling out another joint. Across the room, Takumi and Yuto were sitting on the counter, watching curiously. Yuto squinted, leaning forward slightly. "Why is Astrid crying?" he whispered.

Takumi rolled his eyes, smirking. "Astrid? What's really surprising is how much weed Isamu has stashed in that bag of his."

Isamu lit the joint and took a long drag, the smoke curling around his face as he spoke. "I'm not angry with you, Astrid. I don't blame you."

Six weeks earlier

Astrid lay sprawled across Isamu's bed, wearing an oversized white T-shirt and black shorts. She looked relaxed, holding a joint as she gazed up at the ceiling. Isamu, still damp from a recent shower, sat in his chair in front of the computer, browsing through college options. Small droplets of water ran down his face, and he absently wiped them away with the sleeve of his black anime T-shirt.

"How about Tokyo?" she asked, exhaling a thin trail of smoke as she stretched. "I've only been there once when I first came to Japan."

Isamu smiled slightly. "Tokyo would be fun, but I was thinking… maybe somewhere abroad. Like London. It'd be cool to see where you grew up."

She groaned, rolling her eyes as she leaned over his shoulder. "I worked hard to lose my accent; going back would be… dreadful."

He chuckled, taking a drag from the joint she held out. "Well, to be fair, you still have a bit of an accent when you speak English. But that's normal."

She leaned in, resting her head on top of his, her voice softer now. "Let's talk about it tomorrow… it's getting late." She kissed him gently on the cheek. "Bye."

"Bye," he replied with a warm smile.

She slipped out of his room, closing the door quietly behind her. Outside, she hopped on her bike, pedaling away into the night. She was still a bit high, her focus drifting as she navigated the dark streets. Suddenly, the blare of a car horn jerked her out of her daze—a car swerved to avoid her, screeching as it crashed into a nearby lamppost.

Present Day

"I'm not angry with you, Astrid. I don't blame you." Isamu's voice was calm, almost detached. "It was an accident. My mom made it through fine in the end."

Astrid wiped her tears, nodding as she looked down. "I know. But I wanted you to hear it from me." Her voice was thick with emotion. "I was in shock that whole week… I couldn't even speak. I didn't check on your mom or on you…"

Isamu offered her the joint, watching her expression. "Your aunt came over to check on us. She apologized on your behalf, even though I kept telling her the same thing I'm telling you now: it was an accident."

Astrid shook her head gently, waving the joint away. "I don't smoke anymore," she murmured.

'You're a bit late with that apology, Astrid,' Isamu thought, feeling a mix of sadness and understanding. 'But I didn't blame you to begin with. Mom didn't have any lasting injuries, and I was just relieved. But it hurt… the way you avoided me. I knew you blamed yourself and didn't let me help.'

"Right"

He glanced around the room, taking in the faces of his classmates, each one etched with exhaustion, fear, and something that resembled a flicker of hope. 'Not that it matters much anymore.'