Harvest 47, 855
That he missed Tuag at all surprised Buu. The grimm grew more restless and agitated as the season wore on, often leaving Buu alone and disappearing from the school grounds entirely. Buu hadn’t heard of any more killings but had no idea what Tuag did during his absences.
Buu had grown used to the hulking beast’s presence, feeling vulnerable when Tuag left him alone. Even he had to acknowledge that his nerves were vestigial. Since his secret practice sessions had begun with Idah, Buu had never felt stronger. Regular flexing of his magic brought with it a vitality he could have only dreamed of, and Buu felt confident he’d grown at least an inch since starting.
On more than one occasion, he even considered using his powers to raise the horses he’d seen buried on his first day at the school and riding the tireless undead all the way back to his uncle. At least then the creatures wouldn’t have gone completely to waste. But although the biting cold no longer reached into his bones the way it used to, he knew better than to take the Zadyan winter lightly, so he decided to wait for Waking, as he and his uncle had agreed during his visit.
Buu imagined what his uncle would say, seeing him riding a stallion into Scarred Lake village, smiling to himself as he entered the classroom. He didn’t see the shove coming, pinwheeling his arms to keep upright as the older boys laughed behind him. Buu looked around at the averted gazes and snickering faces of his classmates and did his best to bank the coals of his anger.
“Careful Tiy, you wouldn’t want to break the little doll,” Kijah sneered — an ugly expression on a face that didn’t need the practice. “He might shatter if he falls.”
Buu took a deep breath, trying to ignore the heartbeats of the older boys, insistent and right there in easy reach. He kept his back to them, missing the distance they would give him if Tuag stood by his side.
“Come on Kijah, anyone that weak would die of shame before a little push could hurt them,” Tiy replied with a malicious grin.
As they laughed, Buu’s face grew hot. He didn’t know what the headmaster would do to him if he used his abilities on other students, or what Captain Riying would do to have Buu in a burgundy uniform once they knew what his powers might be capable of. He didn’t want to find out, but the solid lump of indignity fighting its way up his throat demanded some kind of action.
“At least I’m not a coward,” Buu shot back with a snarl.
The room fell silent, the other students no longer pretending not to see the conflict, instead staring with open anticipation. Buu held his ground as the pressure of their scrutiny built. He was tired of being pushed around.
Tiy stood a head taller than Buu and used that height to its full advantage, staring down his nose with narrowed eyes. A few weeks ago, Buu would have found Tiy’s disdain menacing. Now, it annoyed him.
“What did you say?” Tiy hissed, motioning Kijah to step behind Buu, flanking him.
“Do you think it makes you brave? Picking on someone younger than you, smaller than you, and weaker than you?” Buu counted off his own shortcomings on his fingers. “I’d like to see how brave you’d be in the face of something that’s actually scary.”
“What, like your pet grimm?” Tiy scoffed. “Brave doesn’t mean stupid. Do you take me for an idiot?”
Buu hadn’t thought of Tuag. The grimm still frightened him, but he no longer came to mind first when Buu thought of fear. Sister Moon’s twisted, hateful face and painful grip flashed through his head, followed quickly by the little grey girl, knocking him over and clawing at his face with hooked fingers.
“Like a ghost,” Buu pressed.
The grey spirits had grown so numerous around the university that they pushed through into Buu’s awareness, even when he didn’t look for them. Other students saw them too, faculty issuing new curfews as if night or day made any difference to the dead. Most didn’t seem hostile, but then again, no one had gotten close to one yet.
Tiy scoffed before a wolfish smile stretched his face. Before Buu could stop the older boy, he looped one arm over Buu’s shoulders, squeezing uncomfortably tight in mock camaraderie.
“You think you could stand up to a ghost better than me, you little wuss?” He squeezed until Buu whimpered. “Let’s put it to the test.” Tiy stepped away from Buu as Professor Ryoh entered the classroom, muttering, “Tonight,” to Buu before finding his seat. Buu hesitated for a moment before sliding into his own chair.
“I am sure,” Professor Ryoh drawled over his shoulder as he began tapping out the lesson plan on the chalk slate at the front of the room, “that I don’t have to remind any of you bright, young minds that there is a curfew in place.” The chalk clacked loudly back onto its ledge before the professor pivoted, regarding his students with resigned frustration.
“But for those of you that aren’t so bright: You are not to leave your dormitories after sunset. The recent supernatural sightings are not to be taken lightly and could be dangerous. Though if you’re stupid enough to get tangled up with one, that may be good riddance as far as I’m concerned.”
After a long glare for Tiy, his cronies, and Buu, the professor began to teach. Buu lost the thread of the lesson within the first few sentences, staring out the window instead. The theory seemed so much less important now that he had some practice under his belt.
He watched the ghosts in the courtyard, crowded shoulder to shoulder as students walked blindly through their midst. Buu knew that if he unfocused his eyes, he would see them in the classroom too. As he began to daydream, he wondered what Tiy had in store for the night, and how much of the real experience the older boy would even be able to see.