Chapter 40: Ventilation Grille (Part 2: Finale)

"Milo? They found you, after all."

For a couple of seconds, Milo stared at Rosaline’s feet on the grille. She was speaking to him, and she’d probably heard him, too.

Above her, the open vent led back to the bathroom and the flail he’d stuffed inside.

"Haha, they did!" He approached with his palms spread. "They also searched for you. Did they succeed?"

Rosaline paused. Milo swallowed, waiting for her to repeat I AM A HERO.

"Really? What do they want this time?" She placed a palm on her hip. "You’re the only one who missed the Appraisal homework."

"Ha, yes, yes, well, it was about something else." Milo gestured at the grille with both hands. "Where did this come from?"

"You see any other place this could come from?" The girl pointed up at the ventilation’s lip. "You’re not the brightest boy. Doesn’t help my class’s rank."

Yes, let her think that.

"Wooow! I thought you were different from those bullies."

"You want anything else?"

"I told you, they’re searching for you. Classmates. My classmates, but I don’t really remember their names."

"Can’t be that important."

"They said it’s important."

"Can’t be more important than this." She stepped off the grille and reached into her pocket.

"What do you find so important about this?"

"It’s not normal for a grille to just fall out."

Out of her pocket came a phone.

"So you haven’t called anyone yet?" Milo asked.

His eyes kept darting between the flail’s outline, the fallen grille, and the girl’s fingers, now mercilessly navigating through the device.

At last, he clenched his fists and put his shoulders up by his ears.

"I’M NOT NORMAL EITHER!"

Rosaline flinched at the scream, phone jerking in her grip.

"I’m not normal, you can see that..." Milo lowered his voice. "I mean, who doesn’t go to school and then shows up with violet blooms on his cheeks? He’s got no shame! No strength!"

Her thumb halted.

"...So will you find me important? Because I’m not normal?"

"Milo, that’s not what I meant."

"What is the meaning of life?" He advanced another step, stopping at the grille between them. "Tell me, Rosaline, why did you come out here?"

"To inspect things such as fallen grilles."

"Really? Me, I sought peace..."

At those words, her hand dropped.

As long as she kept listening, he could send her after those classmates and reach the bathroom while she searched the dining hall. Their names would come to him. At least she had stopped touching the phone.

"Exactly. Peace. There was this painting—"

He did not even realize her eyes were long gone from his.

"Over here, Mr. Cald!" Rosaline waved past his shoulder. "Was just looking for you!"

What...?

When Milo turned, the instructor was already crossing the grass toward them, his bald head shining in the morning sun.

"I heard shouting," the man said. "Something about being normal."

While preventing a phone call, Milo had managed to bring Cald over himself.

No... no...

"The problem is this grille, sir. I’ve left it where it fell so you can look at it before I report it." She stepped aside, holding her phone ready. "I thought you’d be thorough."

Thorough... he is thorough...

Of course she had chosen the thorough one. During the interrogation, Cald had followed every turn of Milo’s story back to the bathroom, and here she was giving him another way in.

Fury boiled inside Milo. To mask letting out his anger, he pretended to walk into the academy’s gate, driving his boot into the metal and lurching forward after it.

"Ouch!!"

The pain made that part convincing, although neither of them bothered to look around. Crouched by the bars, he counted fifteen seconds before Mr. Cald spoke.

"That runs back to the bathroom. C05 and C06 connect to it as well."

The man knew. Of course he knew. Next he’d climb in to check, crawling straight to the flail, and Milo could explain how the dead Warden’s weapon had gotten into his favorite hiding place.

"Possibly one of the first-floor staff rooms, too," he continued. "We can check from inside."

"You don’t know shit!"

Both faces turned toward the gate.

"It doesn’t go to the bathroom. C05 and C06 aren’t connected either." Milo straightened. "I’ve checked the blueprints, and they aren’t connected. What’s so important about a grille, anyway?"

"The blueprints are locked away. Who gave you access?"

"Milo, please." Rosaline looked from him to the instructor. "Sir, can we finish this first?"

"Which one will you admit to." The instructor’s eyes narrowed. "Lying, or breaking and entering, accessing classified documents?"

"Sir, I need to know what to report."

If she could keep Cald explaining things for another minute, Milo might reach the bathroom first.

He marched for the entrance while she held her phone up, only to feel a hand close over his shoulder.

"Stay here, Milo."

"I’m going inside."

"You will stay until you’ve answered my question."

"Sir..." Rosaline lowered the phone. "If he wants to go, couldn’t you let him? We can check it ourselves."

"He has just claimed access to restricted plans."

"Could we ask Mr. Thwaite about that?" Her eyes went back to the hand gripping Milo’s sweater. "I only needed you to look at the grille."

"It is better if Milo stays here." Mr. Cald tightened his grip. "Stop pulling."

With Cald holding him, the bathroom might as well have been locked again.

Milo could picture the man coming back with the flail, Rosaline beside him with her report ready, and himself still trying to explain the blueprints.

"YOU CAN’T JUST—"

"I can."

"YOU CAN’T!"

He tried to twist free, the collar dragging against his throat. Going the other way only bunched more of the sweater under Cald’s fingers, leaving him with one shoulder hunched up by his ear.

"Let me go!"

"Do not force me to immobilize you."

Behind them, Rosaline rubbed her eyes.

"You can’t do shit!" Milo jerked his head down at the hand on his shoulder, mouth wide. "Let me go!"

Mr. Cald snatched his fingers clear of the teeth and jumped back. As Milo lunged after him, the man’s boot drove into his stomach.

"URGH!"

Arched around the blow, he caught the boot in both hands and tucked an elbow over the ankle before the instructor could pull it back.

"Release my leg," Mr. Cald ordered.

"No."

"Let go of my leg!"

"NO!"

Milo edged toward the entrance with the ankle under his arm. The instructor hopped backward and dragged him across the grille.

Since returning the boot would give the man both feet to chase him on, he tightened his hold beneath his ribs and lowered his mouth to the trouser leg.

A palm shoved his forehead away.

Trying from the side got him another hand on his crown.

The man was bent over him now, balancing on one foot while Milo strained against the pressure to reach his shin.

"Stop! Both of you!" Rosaline fumbled her phone into her pocket and hurried over. "Mr. Cald, put your foot down!"

"He has hold of it!"

She reached between them, her sleeve brushing Milo’s cheek.

"Take his shoulder," the instructor told her. "I’ll get my foot free."

Instead, she slipped her fingers under the hand pressing against Milo’s forehead.

He charged at them, teeth bared. She pulled back with a gasp.

"Milo, I’m trying to get his hand off!"

"His hand off?!" Mr. Cald snapped toward her, easing the pressure just enough for Milo to lift his face. "The sucker’s trying to bite me!"

"Milo, let him put his foot down! I’ll help you get away!"

Baffled, the instructor turned back to the fight.

Rosaline got both hands around the wrist on his forehead, when from the school speakers came a crackle.

"Attention, everyone. Attention, please. This is Mr. Thwaite speaking."

Mr. Cald stopped hopping. Rosaline’s fingers rested at the man’s cuff. Milo listened with his mouth open over the trouser leg, both hands clamped around the boot.

"I ask everyone to leave the dining hall, come out of the building, and gather near the stage on the north-west side of the yard."

The three of them glanced at the building, then at the fallen ventilation grille.

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⋆˚࿔ Coming right up: "Stay (Part 1)" ... ⤵︎ [!]