NOVPUB
Chapter 36 - Kai(2)
Kathlyn barely had time to catch her breath before the river dragged her again.
One moment, she was suspended in the black void heart racing, pulse thudding painfully in her ears and the next, the world snapped back into shape.
No warning.
No transition.
Just sudden, jarring reality.
She stumbled forward slightly, boots scuffing on something solid pavement again, but this time smoother, newer, with the faint sheen of recent rain.
She looked up.
A small city park spread out before her. She saw swings, a low fence, scattered benches, a sandbox half-dissolved by the weather. Bright posters clung to lampposts, the words unfamiliar, but the images easy to read: cartoon animals, bold dates, event times.
And at the center of it all...
A boy.
Kai.
Not the six-year-old she'd just seen, but slightly older maybe nine, maybe ten. His hair was still messy, his clothes still too big on his slim frame, but his shoulders had changed. They were drawn tighter now, less slumped with confusion and more locked with something she recognized immediately: tension.
He stood near a bench, fists tucked awkwardly into his sleeves, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. His eyes darted toward a girl sitting nearby, a little older than him, reading a book.
Kathlyn watched.
Kai took a breath.
Stepped forward.
And she saw, in the way his hands twitched, the way his mouth moved silently as if rehearsing words, the pure, determined hope on his face
He was trying.
Trying to talk to her.
Trying to close the gap.
Trying to bridge whatever invisible line kept him apart from the groups of kids laughing further off in the park.
But the second he reached the girl's side and opened his mouth, a voice cut across the space.
"Why are you bothering her, weirdo?"
Kathlyn flinched.
A group of boys stood nearby, slouched against the low fence, watching with smirks. They were older two, maybe three years older and they were loud.
Kai turned slightly, frowning.
"She's reading," he said simply, his voice small but steady. "I wanted to ask about the book."
The boys snorted. One of them elbowed another, grinning.
"Yeah, right. You think she wants to talk to you?"
"She's a girl, idiot," another chimed in. "Go play with the other boys."
Kathlyn felt her chest tighten.
The girl at the bench glanced up, confused, blinking between Kai and the boys but she didn't say anything. She just closed her book slowly, stood, and drifted away, leaving Kai standing there alone.
Kai's fists clenched tighter in his sleeves.
He didn't look away.
Didn't shout back.
Didn't cry.
He just... stayed there.
Kathlyn watched his face.
It didn't crumple.
It didn't fold into anger or shame.
But the light in his eyes — that quiet, stubborn flicker of "I can cross this line, I can talk to her, I can be part of this"
And slowly, Kai turned.
Walked away.
Back to the edge of the park, hands shoved deep into his sleeves, shoulders curling inward like they were trying to swallow his whole frame.
Kathlyn felt her throat tighten painfully.
She knew this wasn't just a random scene. The Prism had pulled this moment for a reason.
Because it wasn't about failure.
It wasn't about rejection
It was about a boy who hadn't understood why the world needed these walls boy and girl, group and loner, belonging and not and who was slowly, painfully learning that his determination alone wasn't enough to shatter them.
Kathlyn felt the pull again.
The edges of the world darkened, the park blurring, the voices fading.
She reached out instinctively wanting, absurdly, to call out, to tell the younger Kai that one day he'd have friends, people, teammates
But her hand passed through empty air.
And the black river yanked her under once more.
Kathlyn barely had time to gather herself.
The moment the black surged, the instant the last memory dissolved she was hurled forward again.
Her chest lurched; her vision twisted.
And when it settled
She stood in another classroom.
A different one this time.
Older students. Thirteen, maybe fourteen The desks were taller, the walls decorated with clumsy posters about "positive attitudes" and "teamwork." Outside the tall windows, the sky was a hazy gray.
But inside inside was a buzz of tension.
Kathlyn instinctively pressed forward, weaving unseen between rows of desks.
There
Near the back
Kai.
Older than the last memory, but not by much. His hair was longer, shaggier. His shoulders had grown, but they were hunched forward slightly, like he was used to shrinking into himself.
His arms were folded on the desk, his head turned faintly, watching something with a cold, tight gaze
Kathlyn followed his line of sight.
In the middle of the room stood a new boy pale, wiry, his eyes darting nervously, his hands twitching as he talked.
The new kid.
He was speaking quickly, his voice rising and falling dramatically as he gestured to the front of the classroom where a teacher was absent, probably out for a moment.
And the kids around him they were watching, whispering, laughing under their breath.
Kathlyn strained to catch the words.
"and then I saw it, right? He was the one messing with my locker Gross stuff, okay? Like, disgusting. Why else would he be hanging back here all the time?"
A ripple of laughter spread.
Kai's jaw clenched faintly.
Kathlyn stepped closer, heart sinking.
The new boy was pointing. Directly at Kai.
"He's the one! I saw him watching people in the bathroom. I saw him near my stuff I don't know what his deal is, but it's weird."
Another round of murmurs.
Someone near the front snickered, "Yeah, Kai's always lurking."
"Creepy."
"I heard he doesn't even talk to anyone."
Kathlyn's fists balled instinctively.
She spun, trying to meet Kai's eyes
But the boy wasn't looking at anyone.
He was staring at his desk, his fingers pressed white-knuckled against the wood. His lips were pressed into a thin, pale line.
He wasn't defending himself.
He wasn't arguing.
He was sitting in silence, shoulders drawn in, breathing shallow, as if the smaller he made himself, the faster it would pass.
Kathlyn felt something twist sharply in her chest.
This wasn't a boy who didn't care.
This was a boy who had already learned there was no point.
Even if he denied it
Even if he explained
Even if he told the truth
It wouldn't stick.
Because he wasn't the loud one.
He wasn't the convincing one.
He wasn't the one people wanted to believe.
She watched as Kai's fingers slowly pulled inward, his nails digging faintly into his palms.
And she realized
This was where it changed.
Not where he was just excluded.
But where he started choosing the exclusion himself.
Better to stay alone.
Better to stop trying.
Better to let the walls close in because at least then, you didn't have to watch people turn away again and again.
Kathlyn felt her throat tighten.
She wanted to reach out. To grab his sleeve. To tell him,
You're not alone anymore.
Someone sees you.
Someone knows this isn't who you are.
But when she lifted her hand
It passed through air.
The memory blurred.
The edges frayed.
And the black river came back, pulling the scene apart thread by thread.
The classroom dissolved, the voices faded, and Kathlyn was left in the dark, her heart pounding, her mind racing, and one cold, painful truth sinking deeper:
Kai had been carrying this weight long, long before she ever met him.
