FLAW: FORTY-SIX

**TRISHA POV**

Having this so-called psychic ability to read people's aura was so annoying. I have to admit that I was excited at first, but right now! Uh-uh! The colors emitted by their halos were painful to the eyes. Earlier, while we were in class, I couldn't help but fall asleep. The colors of their halos were just too distracting.

I'm currently with Sky and Maica in the canteen to have our lunch. And guess what, it was even worse here than in our classroom. It was like I was in a disco with all the colors I see on each student's head. All that was missing was the DJ, the sound system, and the canteen could turn into a disco center.

Most of them changed from one color to another, indicating a change in their mood. And they were annoying! I also found out that I could see how intense a person's emotions were based on the intensity of the color of their halo. If the color was pale, then the emotion was not that intense. But when it's bright and tinted, that's the extreme. I had seen a few students with intense emotions, but most of them were blue.

I bet they were depressed or something. I didn't know. I didn't really care about them. In fact, I'm done with this aura reading thing. It was too much of a hassle.

"Looks like you're in a bad mood?" Maica asked while pouring sauce over her rice. I told them about how annoyed I was with my ability, but they just laughed. I mean, only Maica laughed. No one can make Sky laugh, or even smile, except for Alex. If I were to read his aura, I'm sure it would be yellow or blue. Yellow represents fear while blue represents sorrow, it's either of the two.

Speaking of the two, I saw my 'ex-besties' sitting just a few tables to my right. I noticed them glancing at me repeatedly. They're definitely talking about me. And based on the color of their halos, they're still angry at me, justifying the color red.

I just ignored them and focused my eyes on the food. Because of them, I lost my appetite.

******

We were on our way back to our respective rooms with Sky. While walking, I was captivated by the art class busy painting. I glanced through the small window of the door and looked at the few students drawing and painting their chosen scenes.

But one student captured my eyes. Her painting was so abstract as if she were just playing with the canvas and the brush. Not only that, she only used black paint despite having a dozen other colors on her table.

I heard from my foster father that paintings also depict the artist's emotions, even life stories. So I wondered what her painting meant. But I could sense danger and monstrosity in her painting. It was like I could feel that she was being oppressed by this unknown superior. And fear as well.

Danger.
Monster.
Oppressed.
Fear.

Those were the words that entered my mind. If she was really afraid, why doesn't her aura indicate it? Her aura was pale gray. But I realized, there's no gray color on my color chart reference. Her situation made me curious. I looked away when I noticed that the students inside were staring at me.

I moved away from the door but still couldn't leave because of that girl earlier. I really felt like something was wrong with her. I wanted to know why. I'd deal with this later.

The bell rang for our first-period afternoon class. I started walking towards the room, but my mind was still fixed on that girl. I didn't know why, but I found her interesting.

Not sexually interesting. I'm not into girls. What I mean was, I'm interested in her situation. I want to know why and what the gray color aura represents.

******

Finally, my vacant time arrived. I had time to inquire about that girl. I was on my way to the art class while thinking of different ways to approach her.

Well, honestly, I couldn't just ask her about what was happening to her. I'm a total stranger to her, so it would be weird if I just approached her out of the blue. So I decided to talk to her classmates to make it less obvious.

When I reached their classroom, I was disappointed to learn that their class was already over. Not a single student was left in the room, except for the instructor who was individually assessing the paintings made by his students earlier.

Maybe it's not bad to talk to him.

I knocked on the door, catching the attention of the instructor who was busy watching his students' output. He raised his eyebrows, indicating for me to come inside. I twisted the knob and slowly pulled the door open. I poked my head in while giving him a bashful smile. I greeted him good afternoon before fully entering.

"Sorry for my intrusion, sir."

"It's okay, it's my vacant time anyway. So, what brings you here, Ms. Osaka?"

He knows my name? How surprising!

"I'm just wondering about my friend in your class."

"Who?" he asked, leaning his back against the edge of the table, with both of his hands on each corner of the fixture supporting his body. It was then that I realized I found this man attractive. If I were to rate his face, it would be 10/10. A perfect score for a perfect face.

Damn! What am I thinking?

"Umm... I... uhh... for-forgot her name," I made an excuse while gently rubbing the back of my neck.

"You forgot your friend's name?" he asked with a slight laugh.

Smooth move, Trisha! Busted right away!

"Fine. To be honest, she's not my friend. I'm a total stranger to her, and I don't care. I'm just worried about her."

"Worried? Why? Is something wrong with her?"

I glanced at a painting done by the girl earlier. "I'm sure there is."

"How did you know? You're not friends."

I pointed to the painting leaning against the wall just below the whiteboard. I walked toward it, and the instructor followed me, standing beside me. We both stared at the masterpiece as if we were examining it, which we actually were.

"There's a lot of negative emotions in this painting," I noticed the instructor nodding as a sign that he agreed with what I said. "Is it okay if I ask what concept you asked them to paint?"

"I told them to paint anything. It is my way of getting to know them," he answered, still looking at the paintings while his hands were inside his pocket.

"Getting to know them?" I asked with a puzzled expression. School already started five months ago. It's impossible that he doesn't know his students yet in those five months.

"I'm a new art class teacher here, and today is my first day. So, I had them paint anything to get to know them. My former art professor once told me that painting is like a door to one's identity," he explained. But something made me wonder.

How did he know my last name if he just started here?

"So, can you tell me what you feel about that painting?" he asked, still looking at the strange painting. I ignored the question that was bothering my mind.

"Danger, oppressed, monster, and—"

"Fear," he interjected. How did he know that I was going to say 'Fear'? God! This man is weird! Quite mysterious. "You're quite an impressive analyst, Ms. Osaka. Are you into arts?" For some unknown reason, my cheeks suddenly felt warm after hearing his praise about my analysis. I looked away to hide my blushing face.

We fell into silence for a few seconds, but it was quickly broken when he cleared his throat. He walked away from me and went to his desk.

"Her name is Angelie Terran," he suddenly said, mentioning the name of the girl I was watching earlier.

"Angelie Terran," I repeated while looking at her painting again.

"Do you have a class to attend?"

This is fast. Is he going to ask me something, like a date? But it's too quick!

"Umm... yes, sir."

"Then you should go now. The third-period class is about to start," he said, giving me a reason to check my watch. I realized I only had ten minutes before my next class. I looked at him again and saw him writing something in his notebook.

I watched how his hand moved as he scribbled. The veins and ligaments moved along with his writing rhythm. He was sitting in a formal way — spine erect, and the soles of his feet touching the very flat floor. But something caught my eye. It was his halo. Its color was pink. I didn't know what that meant, but I'll look for its meaning later.

You're so stupid, Trisha. Did you expect him to ask you out? Like, he's a teacher, and you're just a student! Wake up, asshole!

"Excuse me, sir?" a voice called him, making me stop staring at him. I looked at the door and saw a male student poking his head in.

"Yes? Come in!" he replied. I didn't stay any longer and left. But before I reached the door, I looked at him again to say goodbye, but he was too busy talking to the student. So, I just left.

An eerie sensation filled my stomach. I'm somewhat happy without knowing the reason why. And then I remember something.

I forgot to ask his name! Argh!

"Do you know what! When I saw him, I felt strange. Like, I'm happy, like, I don't know!" a girl in front of me said. She was talking with her friend, and somehow, I could relate to what she said.

"Ayie~ you have a crush on him!" her friend teased, resulting in a playful punch on her arm.

"Silly!"

"So what if you like him? It's normal to have a crush, right?"

Wait... Don't tell me... No! No, no, no, no! I shouldn't. It's not allowed! Not allowed! Uh-uh!

"Is it still normal to have a crush on a teacher?" And I suddenly stopped. Why do I feel like I'm the girl they're talking about? Why does it seem like I'm their topic? Do I really have feelings for that instructor?

"Have you seen Sir Zion?" they continued. I don't know why, but I kinda want to hear their conversation.

"The new art class instructor?"

"Yes! Ack!" one of them squealed; it seemed like her friend also had a crush on the teacher. But why do I feel hurt? "I found out he's a fresh graduate, and he graduated magna cum laude!" Her friend received three consecutive punches when she got excited.

His name is Zion.

I continued listening to them until I reached the door of our classroom. I wanted to hear more about their crushes, but classes were about to start.

I was about to enter our room when a loud and sharp scream echoed through the entire hallway. Three girls came out of the nearby restroom, their faces in a state of shock and fear. They looked like they had seen a ghost or something terrifying.

I quickly went to them, despite something that I might see. Well, I've seen lots of blood and flesh before, so whatever I see won't affect me. But I was wrong. I stood there in shock. Eyes widened and mouth gaping. I covered my mouth when I saw a girl on the wall, crucified in a bizarre position.

Blood was dripping from her body onto the wall, with something sharp protruding from her wrists and shoulders, keeping her body in place, hanging on the wall. And then I recognized her. Her hair, her uniform, her face. I'm not mistaken. She's—

"Angelie!" shouted a girl beside me. Maybe her classmate. And then, a familiar scent reached my nose. A scent I had been missing since earlier.

I looked at the source of the smell and saw him. He was shocked and had almost the same reaction as everyone else here. I noticed his hand clenched into a fist, veins protruding from his arms like tree roots.

I glanced back at the lifeless body. I found this incident suspicious. Very, very suspicious. It seemed like now I know what 'danger' means in his painting. And somehow, I had an idea of who, or more like what, did this to her.

The faculty members immediately ushered us away from the crime scene. After a few minutes, the police arrived. They surrounded the restroom entrance with yellow tape bearing the words: "POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS."

Maica and Sky arrived just in time, looking like they didn't know what was happening. Once they removed Angelie's body, the students returned to their classrooms, except for the three girls who first saw the victim. They were invited to the police station to provide their statements and alibis.

It might sound cliché, but the person who first sees the body is automatically considered a suspect. It's the standard operating procedure, so they had no choice. The Dean announced the suspension of classes due to the fear that another incident might occur and to give the police space to investigate the crime.

"Hey, Trisha?" Maica called out to me. She probably noticed that I was unusually quiet.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Let's just go home," Maica invited me. I just shrugged, telling her that anything was fine with me. Even if we went to the restroom, that would be okay. I looked at Sky, and I was surprised to see his expression. He was staring at me seriously, giving me a look that said, "You knew something that we don't know." I just lowered my head and sighed, a sign of defeat.

I must tell them.