[Mombasa – Midweek | Community School / Afternoon]
Dhalik told himself he would keep it simple.
No overthinking.
No drifting.
Just… normal.
It lasted half a day.
By midday, his focus had already started slipping again.
Not completely.
Just enough to notice.
The teacher asked a question.
He answered.
Correct.
But even while speaking—
part of him was somewhere else.
Waiting.
Watching something that wasn't even there.
"…Dhalik."
He blinked.
The classroom came back into focus.
"Yes?"
The teacher frowned slightly.
"I already asked you to open page forty-two."
"…Right."
A few quiet laughs.
He didn't react.
Didn't even look around.
That, more than anything—
stood out.
After class—
"Okay, now it's getting weird."
Dhalik didn't need to turn to know who it was.
Imani stepped beside him, arms loosely crossed, expression somewhere between annoyed and curious.
"…What is?"
She gave him a look.
"You."
He picked up his bag.
"I'm fine."
"You keep saying that."
They started walking toward the courtyard.
"You weren't like this before," she added.
Dhalik shrugged.
"People change."
"Not in a week."
That made him pause.
Just slightly.
Imani noticed.
"…See? That," she said, pointing lightly. "You keep doing that."
"Doing what?"
"Stopping. Like you're waiting for something."
Dhalik looked at her properly now.
"…Maybe I am."
She frowned.
"That's not normal."
"…Yeah."
Again—no denial.
Imani shook her head slightly.
"You're not even trying to sound normal anymore."
Dhalik adjusted his bag on his shoulder.
"…Does it matter?"
That caught her off guard.
"…Yes?"
He didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
They reached the edge of the courtyard.
Students scattered around, talking, laughing.
Normal.
Imani leaned slightly against the low wall.
"…Did something happen?" she asked, quieter now.
Not accusing.
Just asking.
Dhalik hesitated.
A lot of answers came to mind.
None of them felt right.
"…I just see things differently now."
Imani studied him for a moment.
"…That sounds like something people say before doing something stupid."
That almost made him smile.
Almost.
"…I'm not doing anything stupid."
"…You sure?"
"…No."
That answer made her go quiet.
Because it was honest.
Too honest.
"Just… don't disappear, alright?"
Dhalik blinked.
"…What?"
Imani looked away slightly.
"Like… you're here, but not really here."
A small pause.
"It's weird."
That word again.
Dhalik exhaled slowly.
"…I'm still here."
"Then act like it."
She pushed off the wall.
"…And maybe try listening in class."
There it was again—
normal.
Grounded.
He nodded slightly.
"…I will."
She didn't look convinced.
But she didn't push further.
"…Good."
Then she walked off.
This time—
he watched her go.
Not distracted.
Present.
For a few seconds.
Later that day—
Msemo was already waiting near the inner road.
"You're late."
"School."
Msemo nodded slightly.
Then—
"…Something's off."
Dhalik sighed quietly.
"You too?"
"That makes two people saying it."
"…Three," Dhalik muttered.
Msemo glanced at him.
"Three?"
"…Never mind."
A short silence followed as they walked.
"…You're trying to hold it back," Msemo said.
Not a question.
Dhalik looked ahead.
"…Yeah."
"And?"
"…It doesn't really work."
That answer didn't surprise Msemo.
"Then don't force it."
"…What does that mean?"
Msemo stopped walking.
"It means you control when you use it."
A pause.
"Not the other way around."
That hit differently.
Because right now—
it didn't feel like control.
That evening—
The TV stayed off again.
Dhalik sat at the table, notebook open—but untouched.
He wasn't looking at patterns.
He was trying not to.
That was harder.
"…Just leave it," he muttered.
His fingers tapped lightly against the table.
Then stopped.
Because even that—
had rhythm.
"…This is getting annoying," he said under his breath.
Frustration again.
Stronger this time.
From the doorway—
his mother watched quietly.
She didn't interrupt.
Didn't ask questions.
But she saw it.
The tension.
The way he held himself still—
like he was trying not to react to something only he could see.
That made her uneasy.
Because this wasn't just curiosity anymore.
It was pulling at him.
Night fell.
And across the community—
Ryoumu stood on a balcony of another building.
Higher.
Further.
A better view.
He didn't look directly at the house this time.
Didn't need to.
Because he already knew where to look.
His phone rested in his hand.
A message thread open.
No direct questions.
Just small inquiries.
A company update here.
An employee schedule there.
Nothing that stood out.
Nothing that connected too clearly.
That's how it had to be.
Slow.
Careful.
Because once you moved too fast—
you became visible.
And visibility—
was risk.
His gaze shifted slightly toward the distant lights of the community.
"…You're slipping," he said quietly.
Not to himself.
To the pattern.
Because the boy—
was starting to lose balance.
And that—
was where mistakes happened.
Back in his room—
Dhalik lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling again.
Imani's words replayed.
Don't disappear.
He exhaled slowly.
"…I'm not disappearing."
But even as he said it—
he wasn't completely sure.
Because something had already changed.
And going back—
didn't feel possible anymore.
To be continued…