The Domestication of The Lam

The Lam is a killer. A wild animal believing itself to be the pinnacle of existence, it's mind unchanging. Well, until it runs out of food and has to infiltrate human society, a school to be exact.

Part 1: The Sheep In Human Clothing

The Lam was a hunter. Never did it once doubt who it was. Primal and untamed, truly terrifying to any that cross its path. This is not so to say that it is lacking in intelligence. Quite the opposite. In terms of every animal that resides in the West Oshanaka bamboo forest, it believes itself to be the pinnacle of the food chain. It is, of course, correct. It had hunted down every single creature that resided in the forest at least once. Whether that be for food or for sport. Most of what it hunted were wild pandas. A choice that stemmed from the fact that they were too fat to run away and instead pleaded with The Lam in primitive tongues as it slowly ripped away all the delicate meat from their bones. It enjoyed the screams, as blood curdling as they were. Perhaps it was death that made it feel alive. Perhaps it was the thrill of the slaughter. Even The Lam was not so sure of why it killed. Only that the joy it brought could never be replaced.

The pandas didn't last too long after the humans came. They had a tendency to ruin everything. They would steal The Lam's source of blood, its source of joy. They would steal away the bamboo and make weapons with which they would kill anything that wasn't human. It decided then that it would kill humans instead. However, humans always travelled in numbers and a whole group was too strong for The Lam. Despite its six feet and nine inches of stature, physical strength was at a minimum. All of its power came from its speed, human-like wit, and intelligence. So, it instead decided that the best course of action was to lure humans away from their flocks and prey on them then. This was usually achieved by making the sounds of a panda or holding shining items in the leaves. 

Then one day, the humans stopped coming. Curious why, The Lam went out to the edge of the forest and saw a forest of a far different kind. The Lam had seen buildings before, there were temples and holy arches scattered through the West Oshanaka forest but it had never seen so many in one place before. It was as if the grass had been trampled down into pavement and the trees had been turned into the concrete that made the walls of houses. With keen predatorial eyes, it was able to make out the sign of the nearest building: Oshanaka School For Girls And Boys. Through the windows it could see a multitude of young humans sitting in rows of desks looking at an older human who stood in front of a black board. It was then that The Lam had a glorious idea. A cunning idea. A murderous idea.

Running back into the forest upon cloven hooves, it crawled into a hole in the ground, hidden behind a tree and covered by a rock. Inside this cave was pure darkness but The Lam had no trouble with this, its eyes were built for the dark. Instead of bumbling around, like humans did in the absence of light, The Lam simply adjusted its eyes to see a sizable cave. It was familiar with this cave. There were many days which The Lam would spend here. It was here that it slept, ate, and kept all of the items that it had accrued from hunting humans in a neat pile along the farthest wall. It was to this pile which it walked. In the corner was a stack of clothes, all neatly folded, of course. Most of them had blood on them, much like a pelt. 

The set that caught its eye was a white and blue long sleeve shirt, matching skirt, accompanied by a red bandana, gray stockings, and a pair of black heels all of which were almost completely spotless. Much in the same fashion as what some of the small humans in the school wore. Everything was slightly too small but humans probably would not care, so it accepted it as it was. The shoes were not about to fit, so it went without them. In a piece of glass that it had found shattered on the ground in the dirt, The Lam admired itself. Twirling and the like, it looked at the uniform. It thought it looked quite charming. Good enough to fool the humans. They weren't very smart anyway. However, they were quite observant. Its face was not like theirs in any way and humans did not have antlers. With a piece of sharp metal it had found on the belt of one of its meals, it sawed off its branches of bone. They fell to the ground, one after the other. 

The Lam had a habit of keeping human’s hair and fashioning it into how it remembered it being on a dried piece of leather, bonding it with dried blood. It took one of these self-fashioned wigs and placed it atop its head, making sure that it looked as close to life as possible. Then it was only its face that was left to be covered. Many a time, humans had done what they had called “theatre” in the forest. The Lam remembered these strange displays. It remembered the masks which they wore, some strange and terrifying, others subdued and quaint. It thought that perhaps it would be one of these masks that would allow it to truly look human.

Running a Kabuki mask shop was a quiet life. Not a great demand but, when someone did come in, the money tended to flow. One day, around noon, maybe one or two, it became not so quiet. First, it appeared. It was dressed like a schoolgirl. It definitely was not a schoolgirl. It reached for a mask on the wall that was in the fashion of a young beautiful girl with white skin, blushed cheeks, and an ambivalent smile. It was a simple mask. Not the most expensive. However, as it grabbed it, and it began to put it on and walked to the door. Stealing is, as you very well know, against Japanese law and all laws for that matter. To enforce this, the keeper of the shop stood from his perch on a small stool, setting his book where he once sat. As he opened his mouth to speak against the thief, it turned and took off the mask. A set of blood red eyes stared into his and something in his mind snapped. It walked away while he remained standing precisely where he was when they made eye contact, mumbling something about an Oni… or something more mortifying than that that he could not comprehend. 

Flaunting the new mask that was most definitely paid for, The Lam waltzed down the street towards the school. It was seven in the morning and all the other students were going the same way. In the matter of height, it was a sore thumb sticking out among the swarm of students. In the matter of identity? No one said a thing. They were either talking with friends, staring at books, or simply admiring the craftsmanship of the pavement. As they approached the school, The Lam suddenly became stressed. So many humans were around and it had no idea what to do. It didn't know what school even was. It didn't exist in the forest. Spotting a group of girls who all seemed to know each other, it stuck to their skirt hems and tagged along to the room to which they were walking. 

When it did eventually reach the classroom, it was suddenly filled with a deep unease. The classroom was full. Almost all of the seats were taken. However the teacher had yet to arrive and so it stood, awkwardly, at the front of the class, silhouetted by the black board. A couple people noticed. Their stares were piercing. Beady eyes traced its every detail. As one younger man in a front row seat opened his mouth to say something about it, the teacher, a small woman no taller than its thigh, stepped into the room and walked right past The Lam on the way to the desk in the corner. Almost immediately, the room was silent. They all stood from their seats and lowered themselves into a brief bow. The Lam did the same, anything to blend in. The teacher nodded her head and they all sat down once more. She turned to The Lam, gray eyes scanning the tall figure. “You must be the new transfer student… Amami Fuyuko?”

It wasn’t sure what to say. In a perfect mimicry of a young feminine voice, it spoke in a cracked dialect of the human’s language. “H-Hai…”

Expecting retribution, The Lam instinctively flinched when the teacher stood and walked toward it. Instead of yelling or hitting it, she merely held out her hand. The Lam opened its eyes to see the open palm with a piece of chalk in the center. “Please write your name on the board, Fuyuko. Then tell the class a couple things about yourself.” 

The Lam did as it was told, doing its best to spell Fuyuko. By sheer power of a miracle, the name was actually spelled correctly. The Lam had only written a couple of times, small notes on the walls of its cave. Some hunters held books in which they put down their thoughts. This was how it learned to write and also learned how to read. Speaking came about because humans cannot go anywhere without spilling words from their over boiling mouths and it had overheard a great many conversations in its centuries of life. 

Once its new name was upon the board, Fuyuko turned to face the class. She rapidly tried to think of what it could say without giving itself away. “I…like nature. I blink a lot. I think. Um… I, uh, live by a tree. It’s big and has leaves. I like meat. Fresh meat…”

She trailed off and turned back to the teacher who was giving her a strange look. The teacher decided against pursuing this weird look. She managed to get past it by blaming her strangeness on the fact that Fuyuko did come from the outer city afterall. “Alright class, clap for Miss Fuyuko. You may take a seat, I believe there is one empty desk in the corner.”

As the class clapped, she worked her way to the back and sat down. “Alright, class. Today we are going to start out with mathematics. Everyone pull out your green books. Miki, would you share yours with Fuyuko?”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Nakamura!”

Miki turned to face Fuyuko. She was a small girl, smaller than most. It was a strange pairing to be sure but Miki did not seem scared or even perturbed by Fuyuko. Her cheery demeanor simply persisted regardless of any outside factors. Perhaps a sign of lower intelligence. The Lam had chosen its first target.

For a while, Mrs. Nakamura droned on about something called “mathematics”. When she did finally stop, a boy at the front of the class raised his and was excused to use the “bathroom”. Curiosity piqued, Fuyuko asked the same and was given leave. 

Stepping out into the hall, she looked up and down the tiled floor at the various rooms she had not noticed on the way in. As she began to walk in a random direction, she was stopped by a tugging at her skirt. Turning to face the disturbance, it spoke to her. “Excuse me miss, do you know where I can find Mrs. Nakamura’s class? I am a transfer student and I got lost on the way here.” 

Fuyuko finished turning and was now face to face with a taller girl with long black hair and a blue name tag that read: Amami Fuyuko. Being of great intelligence, the false Fuyuko quickly constructed a brilliant plan. “Hai, follow me.” 

False Fuyuko led true Fuyuko down any number of halls while saying things like “almost there” and “just a couple more doors” until finally it found an isolated corner. “I…don’t think this is the classroom. Are you sure you aren’t new too?”

In the corner, The Lam removed its mask and whispered to Fuyuko. “I’m not only new, I am you.”

Before Fuyuko could ask any more questions, The Lam had already silently ended her life in one single bite to the neck.

Returning to class about fifteen minutes later with a stomach more full than it was before, Fuyuko sat back down next to Miki. When questioned on what took her so long, she merely answered, “Got lost, I am new afterall.”

Humans were so gullible. It only took that simple lie for class to resume once more. An hour of what was called “geography” passed and Mrs. Nakamura called for lunch. All of the students had brought lunch in a box or bag whereas Fuyuko had already had hers. So she was quite unsure of what to do. For a minute or two, she sat in silence at her corner seat until a familiar voice interrupted the silence, that of Miki. “Hey Fuyuko, do you want to eat lunch with me and my friends? It's ok if you don't, it's just that we always eat together.”

Fuyuko considered this. Prolonged exposure could jeopardize its disguise but refusal to a tradition would draw attention to itself. Either way, this stupid human had just set a trap, one it must conquer. “Sure.”

For a moment, awkwardness prevailed at the circle of young girls. New additions to the circle were not very common. Then they realized: Miki had brought her over. Miki doesn’t make bad decisions… ever. Surely this must not be the first. When the group came to this silent consensus, everything became normal once again and they were chatting as if Fuyuko had always been there from day one. For reference: ‘day one’ was nearly three years ago. They talked about a great deal of things: friends, sports, and a couple of clubs. Fuyuko was hesitant to add to the conversation because all of it was foreign to her. Instead she sat in silence, examining the eyes of Miki’s friends. This sort of trancelike state was broken by Miki once more. “Hey Fuyuko, you should come to poetry club after school! Katsura here runs it.”

Miki gestured to a slightly older girl with light brown hair who waved at Fuyuko. “And we are all a part of it. It would be fun!”

The Lam began to sweat. It didn't know what poetry was. Do most humans know what poetry is? It had never heard the term before. Surely it was some ritual of a primitive sort. Like apes grooming each other, or something. If that was its definition, The Lam would not be too pressed to join in it and excel. “What's poetry?”

Miki looked at Katsura who looked back at Miki then at Fuyuko. “Poetry is written or spoken verses that express something about us or the world around us. Poetry itself is whatever we choose to make of it.”

Not grooming. Not primitive either. Maybe it thought humans were slightly more stupid than they were. “So…it's just words?”

Katsura thought about this question, she had not thought about that before. “No, words are just the medium. Like paint or a pen. It is not the definition of but rather the tool with which you create poetry. Poetry is far more than words on a page. It is an expression of life itself.”

Despite its lack of willingness to admit it, The Lam was fascinated by “poetry”. So, teeth gritted against its weak backbone, Fuyuko said she would love to join them. This made everyone happy. The Lam preferred it when people were happy. People get suspicious otherwise. That simply must not happen. If humans were happy when you agreed with their plans or views, then Fuyuko shall then be the most agreeable person in the school.

The day came and went. Marching along, topic after topic. Art, philosophy, and linguistics all passed at the slip of Mrs. Nakamura’s tongue. Sooner than expected, and later than it should have been, the bell above the door rang out its siren cry and the day was done. Relief washed over The Lam's lengthy features as it prepared to make the sprint to the woods, away from this terrible situation from which it couldn’t leave. This relief was momentary as it remembered that it was still Fuyuko and she still had a poetry club to attend. She muttered obscenities in languages long since dead to man as Miki took her hand and dragged her halfway across the school to a classroom much like the last with the exception of a paper sign that read: ‘Welcome To Poetry Club!’ written in neat black pen beside the door. They were the first to arrive so Fuyuko took a seat at the back and Miki took one at the front. Mere moments later, Katsura and the rest of the group, there were six others in total, arrived and took various seats. Katsura, seeing everyone was seated, stepped to the front of the classroom and began to write on the board a simple phrase: ‘The Sun and Moon’ in the same handwriting as the sign outside. She turned back and addressed the classroom. “Welcome all to Poetry Club. As you all know, we have a new member: Amami Fuyuko. Now, for those of you who know what is going on, you may start writing. For those of you newly joining us, I will be going over the basics. Don’t worry Fuyuko, Sori Jun missed her first meeting last week.”

A younger girl with bob length hair sunk a little lower into her seat across the room. Katsura continued on. “Here, in Poetry Club, we focus, not on being perfect or beautiful, but rather on being genuine to ourselves. Every week, on Tuesday and Thursday, we meet in this exact classroom to be genuine with each other as well. Every meeting, I will write a prompt up on the board to help you start writing your poems. Whether you follow it or not, it is up to you. It is merely there if you get stuck. Toward the end of the meeting, we go one by one and read our poems, or half finished poems, aloud. It doesn’t matter if you finish a sonnet or only have one line down, we will always share. Any questions?”

Fuyuko shook her head, as did Jun. For once, Fuyuko understood something about humans. Poetry was something it had occasionally encountered in the journals of hunters that later became prey. Flowing language, metaphors, and short lines. She could do that. How hard could it be?

Much to Fuyuko’s surprise, poetry was a lot harder than she had realized. It frustrated her. The Lam, who was the greatest being in the forest, the top of the food chain, the true mastermind of nature, defeated by a couple of metaphors and a pen. How truly confounding this world was. Just as she struggled on finishing her only six line stanza, Katsura called for the sharing to commence. Miki went first. It was suggested that this was the norm. Standing at her desk, she held up her notebook and cleared her throat.

“You are Tsukuyomi

 A being which counters mine.

You are the moon of my mind.

The right eye of my life.

Hate you as I, Amaterasu, do 

I could never kill you.

I could never love you.

Let us dance for eternity.

I promise I will dance along with you.”

When she had finished speaking, the class applauded and she sat down once more. Time went by, six poems were read. Each was different, some long, short, some impressive, some not so much, but they all had what Fuyuko believed that she did not: passion. It was in this sole area that The Lam believed the humans had an upper hand. The Lam had never felt passion, true passion. The only feeling that came close was slaughter. Maybe it should have written about that. No, that would give it away. Nighttime was a much more believable option. 

Then there were two: her and Katsura. Seeing Fuyuko’s hesitation to share, Katsura stood up first. 

“To be in the sun

Is to deny the moon

You must never forget

Why we love the light

We must never let

Ourselves forsake the night.”

Once she had completed her short poem, the class applauded as before. “Alright Fuyuko. I know this is hard but just trust that we are all supportive here and no one will judge.”

She could feel the pressure. Fuyuko was never used to being in the spotlight. It had never been before. It thought back to when she said she would be the most agreeable person ever. This felt far fetched as if from a different person. It was from a different person. The Lam reminded itself that it was not Fuyuko. It was itself. As it looked closer, the line between the two became muddled. Was The Lam not Fuyuko? Returning from its thoughts, she realized she was now standing behind her desk. She looked at the notebook that had been gifted by Miki and at the poem sloppily written in the top right corner of the otherwise blank white page. She cleared her throat and began to read to the classroom in a voice that was shaking slightly more than she thought it should have. 

“Nighttime is dark

A fact known by all

Creatures breath in the night

It is food to their hearts

I am one with it too

My heart too is dark.

A-and that's as far as I got.”

Once she had finished her poem and rushed through her apology, Fuyuko sat back down behind the too small desk. She could feel the heat of her pulse as it beat through her body. Was this anxiety? Then they began to clap. For her. For it. It had never been praised before. Animals speak not praise. Praise was not needed to survive unlike that which animals discussed. It was purely a human trait. It was not needed for life. It was an evolutionary failure. It felt… good. Why? The Lam had gone for ages without praise. It knew not even its sound. Yet, when it heard the applause, customary as it may be, something shifted. Imperceptible as it may be, it shifted all the same. Fuyuko smiled beneath the mask. She liked being praised. 

The Lam went home. The other girls had asked if they could accompany it on its way but it declined saying that it was tired and wanted to be alone. As it bounded home between shoots of bamboo and trees, it mulled over the strange day. In its cave, it folded its disguise with careful hands and placed its mask on top. It looked into its improvised mirror as if to check if it was still there. It saw The Lam. That night, it wrote. For hours, it penned poems, both good and poor, into the notebook. Fifteen pages of poems. It only stopped when it grew too tired to see straight. Maybe this was passion. That feeling where you must do something. Write til you can’t anymore. Write til your fingers bleed. Maybe it was going insane. Either way, the feeling unsettled it. Well, maybe it wasn’t so bad. 

Part 2: The Shift In The Reflection

The Lam wasn’t sure why it returned. But, be it as it may, it was here. In the same clothes as before. In the same seat next to Miki, it was here. Miki, Katsura, Jun, and all the others expressed a light pleasure at her return before class started which she found quite pleasant. The day itself was much the same. However, Fuyuko actually tried listening to Mrs. Nakamura. She still found it boring but it was worth noting that she tried listening. Lunch was nice as well. Fuyuko joined without having to be asked. She figured that it was now the expectation in order to keep up her guise. However, attending and partaking in conversation were two very different things. Fuyuko found that she could sit in the circle with ease but actually engaging in it was far more difficult. She had no idea what humans even talked about. They talked so much that she figured they were likely saying worthwhile things but this was simply not the case. The Lam learned, in the span of about ten minutes, that humans possessed the unique capability to say a lot of words about nothing. Not only that, but they enjoyed doing it too. The Lam simply could not understand this obsession with worthless talk, so it just nodded along and hoped it wouldn’t be asked to do the same.

As the day came to a close, Fuyuko prepared to go home. Just as she was about to walk out of the school door and into freedom, she was stopped once more. This time, it was Katsura who said her name. “Fuyuko!”

She ran to catch up with her. “I was wondering if you wanted to come to Sakka practice today. Our team needs a couple more members and I think you might like it.”

Fuyuko turned to face the older girl. Of course she would want something of The Lam. It could never get away without going through the trials of being human. One such trial was being asked to participate in several worthless activities. Just as she was about to say no, The Lam remembered the pact it made with itself. “S-sure. What is “Sakka”?”

Katsura took her hand and led her out the door promising to show her. 

The Lam was quite familiar with fields. It had often visited them in hopes of sunning and roaming free. Yet this field was strange to it. It was completely flat with white lines drawn on the grass in some sort of pattern. It questioned if this “Sakka” was some form of art. When Katsura and her arrived, nine people were already there, both girls and boys. Some that Fuyuko recognized from class, including Miki and also Jun, but also many she did not. Katsura introduced her as “Fuyuko, a prospective replacement for Kondou.”

She could feel their eyes scanning up and down her long body, suddenly she felt slightly self conscious. That was a new feeling for The Lam. Trees don’t judge how you look. Humans do. Embarrassed, she turned to Katsura wishing to deflect some attention. “What is Sakka?” 

She turned to the group. “Could one of you roll me the ball? … Thanks Jun.”

Fuyuko looked at the ball. It had a strange pattern of black and white upon its surface. It looked oddly soft. “This is the ball. Do you see those nets strung up at both ends of the field? Those are called goals. The ball is meant to be kicked into the goal opposite from you. You will work with these lovely people to do so.”

She gestured to the other people who waved at Fuyuko. “Sounds easy but there is a catch. There will be another team who will try to take the ball away from you and try to get it into the other goal. Does that make sense?”

Fuyuko nodded. It did make sense. Apes played sports all the time. Most of them were to see who could throw nuts the farthest but the concept was generally the same. “Let's play then.”

Getting into it was a difficult process. At first, everyone kicked the ball around Fuyuko because she was a little too shy to kick back. Then Miki rolled the ball to her feet and told her to try kicking it. Once she saw the ball roll away from her now raised hoof, she began to start kicking it more and running when she did. The Lam knew that it was faster than humans so she had to hold back. Then it started to become competitive. At first she rolled her eyes at her teammates' spirited cries and jeers. Then, before she knew it, she too was becoming enthralled in the competition. At one point, she got so competitive that she was running full speed at the ball only to have it kicked out of her way at the last second. The event that occurred shortly after could only be described as a shift of gravity within The Lam’s very being. Arched back hit the grass at a speed that was incomprehensible to all present and Fuyuko’s mask was sent flying into the grass a few feet from her paralyzed form. Seeing their friend fall, the game stopped and they started looking at her. Before any of them could see her true face, she had covered her face with a large hand and was now clawing blindly at the grass. Frantically it began to hiss into its hand. “The mask. Where is it? I need my mask.”

Miki stepped over and retrieved the mask. She took the flailing hand and placed the piece of adorned white plastic into it. Immediately it was back in place and Fuyuko was tying it so that it would not fly off again any time soon. “Why do you need the mask, Fuyuko?” 

Miki stood looking up at her with expecting eyes. The Lam had not been expecting this question. It had not calculated this whole ordeal. It felt all like one big error, one that was nearly impossible to correct. Lie, that is what she shall do. Lies had gotten her this far. Why wouldn’t one be sufficient now? “I uh- burned my face as a child. This is for my safety, you see? So I must keep it on at all times.” 

The Lam was not sure if this lie would be good enough to fool her. Maybe she will see right through it. Maybe everyone will. Was its cover blown?

“Ok! Then keep on your mask, Fuyuko! You are too cool to not have around!”

Fuyuko smiled. The Lam sighed. It was safe for now. 

When they finally finished playing Sakka, the sun had begun to dip below the horizon. Again, they offered to walk her home but she declined with the same empty excuse. She said that she was tired and they left her alone as before. Why did this silence feel more empty than before?

In its mind, it never stayed longer than it took to get a meal or two. Maybe even up to ten. This would, in theory, take about a month. The Lam's conviction was perhaps one of the strongest nature had ever produced and even this was a challenge. Steps must be taken to ensure that this month goes well. 

Cloven hooves clicked along the central street of the sleeping city. Then to a stop under a streetlight. It looked through store windows at the wares beyond. If it was going to stay in school, it was going to need supplies. The Lam knew the concept of currency. Animals traded food back and forth for house materials or medicine all the time. However, The Lam was never a fan. Too many beings get selfish. They start charging more and more for things worth nothing. The Lam hated selfishness. As it did in the wild, it decided it will do now: take what it needs, spare no thought for selfish desires. The first store that it raided was a clothing store. Using two sewing needles, one that was straight and the other bent into a hook, the lock was easy to bypass. It had decided that the best way to keep up appearances is to have properly fitting clothes. This was what it found: a school uniform of a much larger size and in the same colors upon a mannequin in the recesses of the store. The Lam was not sure if this was a stroke of luck, fate, or something of a much higher intelligence but it gave thanks to whatever was looking over it and took the uniform. It also found a dark leather satchel which it took as well. It would need it to carry supplies.

The next store was an office supplies shop wherein it stole several pens, a couple notebooks, and a wooden bento box. Its plans for this bento box lay in the store across the street. Given that it could not kill inside the school, it would then bring lunch as all the other students did. 

The butcher shop was slightly harder than the others to break into. The lock was ancient and kept slipping. After the fifteenth try, the door finally clicked open. It lept the counter with ease and slunk to the freezer which opened with ease. Inside were many pieces of meat all with specific labels. Automatically, it gravitated toward pork as it was similar in composition to panda meat. Pulling a bag of pork chops from the freezer, it carefully closed everything and began to leave. Just as it reached the door, it could see the sun begin to rise. The clock on the wall read five on the dot. The Lam began to get nervous. It had to go all the way to its cave to retrieve its mask before it got spotted by waking humans and had to be at the school by eight when class started. Stashing the uniform and supplies into the bag, it slung it over its shoulder. It then arched its back so that it would be on all four of its limbs, human like hands clutching the ground. Plastic bag of pork chops held firmly between its teeth, it began to sprint down the street. It began to sweat as it raced the morning sun. Turning corners and bounding off walls, it reached the center of town. For a second it stopped and the sun caught up so it started off once more. A couple more turns it would be at the edge of the woods. It could feel the daylight breathing down its neck as it tumbled through the edge of the bamboo and ran all the way back to its cave. Stuffing a portion of food into the box, pouring itself into the uniform and attaching the mask to its face, it began to run once more but at a more relaxed pace and on only two legs toward the school. It told itself that it was only a couple more weeks and she could leave. Fuyuko liked this plan.

Two months had passed in the bat of an eyelash or the beat of a heart. The autumn had faded into winter. There stands Amami Fuyuko in front of a stolen mirror, getting ready for the day. Black underwear, gray thigh high socks, larger black shoes that actually fit her feet, blue skirt, white long sleeve shirt tucked into the skirt, carefully tied red bandana under the collar, mask masterfully tied behind her head, a much cleaner wig made of human hair, cow leather, and super glue placed atop her head with each little hair in perfect obedience to the brush that was run through it the night before. Her satchel containing two notebooks, a bento box full of carefully prepared red meat, and a small blue bag of black pens, was slung around her shoulder. She turned for the cave exit. As she did, she took a look back at the cave. In one corner was a stolen freezer full of red meats with a cord leading to an outside generator. On the other side was a hand built bed frame with a stolen mattress and equally ill gotten pink sheets and pillows. Along the back wall were her various wigs of different styles along with the full length mirror taken from a beauty store. In its reflection there was The Lam. It looked confused as if it did not recognize who it was that stared back. Not wishing to be late for class, Fuyuko turned her back on the reflection and walked into town. 

Today was the last week before, what the students called, winter break. Whilst everyone rejoiced at the coming of time away from school, it was enshrouded in the feeling of anxiety. Sitting at the precipice of freedom sat an exam. A roadblock to the average student’s happiness. It seemed that every waking hour was spent studying anything and everything they had learned previously. Every sleeping moment was spent worrying about what may come to pass. The Lam was not concerned about the exam, at least it tried not to be. In reality, the test did not affect it. It had no parents to scorn its failure nor celebrate its success. It did not have a career to look forward to. Yet, as it was learning now, the tension was contagious. The longer it stood in the presence of its fellow students, the more stressed Fuyuko became. Pretty soon, she was sitting in the library staring down various scripts of numerous topics. She read definitions and equations with a gaze that said “Kneel thyself to my mind, bend to my will.”

This was among the less extreme views out of the many people at her table alone. Miki’s eyes were practically chanting war cries at the texts. Guttural screams that intimidated the very papers into bending into unnatural shapes, parchment writhing in agony. The Lam was afraid of Miki. Everyone was afraid of Miki. Such fury in such a nice girl. She supposed it had to go somewhere. 

The tone of the bell interrupted the intensity of the studying, sending the students fleeing from the school. As Fuyuko began to return her supplies to her satchel, Miki spoke to her in a voice that was far sweeter than her studying fury had portrayed. “Hey, Fuyuko! Do you want to come to my place and study tonight? My mom likes to meet my friends and I don’t want to study alone.”

Fuyuko stopped moving. The Lam was suddenly struck with fear. If it were to say yes, it would be led deeper into human territory than it had ever been before and straight into the most guarded part of humanity: the abode. If it were to say no? It knew not what would happen. It didn’t particularly want to risk it either way. “I… don’t know, Miki.”

“Oh please Fuyuko! You could even stay the night, it would be a great time!”

Maybe The Lam was getting soft toward these humans’ strangeness. Maybe Fuyuko was only doing what this false life expected of her. No matter what the reason may be, she said yes.

The pair stopped walking, fifteen minutes later, in front of a smaller house Miki opened the door for Fuyuko to step in before her. As Miki removed her shoes, she called into the  “Okaasan! I’m home! I brought a friend!”

The voice of, who Fuyuko could only assume was her mother, responded from the kitchen in much the same way. “Oh Ohana, did you bring your friend Fuyuko like you said you would?”

Fuyuko took her shoes off as well and stepped further into the house. “Hai, she is here with me!”

Mrs. Miki stepped out from the kitchen just beyond the wall and approached them with a wide smile on her face. Fuyuko couldn’t help but think she looked exactly like Miki but slightly shorter with grayer hair. Fuyuko bowed and she laughed. “Oh no need to do that here. Any friends of my wonderful daughter are accepted as family here.” Her eyes scanned Fuyuko. “My my you are a tall one. That is alright, we have plenty of food. My daughter tells me you like beef so I prepared beef curry just for you. Why don’t you both come in? Was it raining when you came home?”

Miki stepped further in, taking Fuyuko by the hand as she always did. “No, Okaasan. Was it supposed to?”

“Hai,” her mother stepped back into the kitchen and began to get out bowls. “I heard from the handsome young man on the tv that it was supposed to thunder. I am glad to hear you both made it here before then.”

Fuyuko could smell the curry from the living room which Miki had led her to. It smelled as if the scent itself could cradle her in its soft aroma. “Thank you, Haha Oya, for inviting me into your home. I don’t mean to be a burden-”

“Oh, nonsense. Guests are never a burden. Now, come grab your bowls. I am not your waiter.”

When the three of them had knelt at the table, Miki’s mother offered a brief prayer then gave them their chopsticks. “Say, Fuyuko, why not remove your mask for a moment?” 

Fuyuko had pushed up the mask to allow the bowl to touch her lips but no further. Miki looked at her mother and whispered. “Okaasan!”

Fuyuko lowered the mask back onto her face. “It's ok, I had an accident in a kitchen as a small child and have burns all across my face. I am not ashamed but rather this mask is for my own protection from infection. I hope you do understand.” 

Miki’s mother nodded. “I knew a young man like that once. He was a kind fellow. I believe that he taught me to not care what was on the outside because it was the soul that counted. I understand, Fuyuko. Keep your mask, you are a kind girl. Nothing else matters.”

Sooner than it wished, dinner was complete and it was time to fulfill that which it came here to do in the first place: studying. For hours they read and memorized. At the table, laying on the floor, even standing up walking aimlessly around the living room.

When they eventually shut the books, they moved upstairs to Miki’s room. Miki stepped out only for a moment before returning with a folding cot. Fuyuko helped her put up the cot only a couple feet from her friend’s bed. The clock read eleven in the night. The two prepared to sleep even if The Lam was not tired. It was common for humans to sleep at night longer than a couple hours so it must do the same. Miki wished her goodnight before shutting off the light. A strange custom but The Lam did not mind. It had begun to grow used to humans having strange customs around everything so it said the same back and took off its mask in the darkness.  

Quiet, oh so quiet. The entire room was covered in the deepest shadows of a starless sky. All but the moon’s face, a facsimile of the sun’s grace, shining through the blinds of the small square window was darkness incarnate. The Lam lay awake, red eyes taking a purple hue in the filtered light. Miki was but a couple feet away, a small mass slowly moving up and down in a calm rhythm. It could smell her blood marching from and to her pure heart. Its eyes etched the outline of her curled figure against the white wall. The smell of oxygenated iron inflamed its senses. Yet it could not bring itself to act upon its nose. Mouth watered but again it did not react. It seemed it could not control its own body. That it could not bring itself to kill that which it now considered its- Fuyuko’s best friend. The Lam’s mind seemed to be in perpetual motion with no end in sight. Its body was as heavy as an entire mountain delicately laying upon its cot. Most of its life it had done as it pleased. Nothing had ever had the nerve to say no. Even then, those that did were dead. So why could it not do this now? Has it grown weak? Was it perhaps something that it had never felt before and therefore could not prevent? Humans talked of empathy. Was this it? No, surely it must be forgetting itself. It was being corrupted. It would not stand for this. 

Clawing its way up from the cot, it gripped its stuff and stumbled out of the house, stripping away the clothes and mask. Dazed, it ran until tears fell from its cheeks. It ran past the cave, throwing its stuff on the dirt outside. It sprinted and scrambled across the side of Mount Oshanaka. It ran until it had reached the peak and only then did it stop. Chest moving swiftly up and down and up and down and up, it began to howl. It screamed its soul to the world. Anguish for who it had been. Despair for who it had become. All of it poured into a rapturous chorus that even the stones could feel in their hearts. Those select few that restlessly wandered the town in the night would have been able to hear its cry as it pleaded with its very being. When its breath had run out, it inhaled and began once more. It continued until it felt faint and could howl no longer. 

Tired of everything, it dragged itself back down the mountain and into the cave. Looking in the mirror it saw itself as it truly was for the first time in almost a year. The humans weren’t corrupting it. They weren’t manipulating it into becoming like them. It was doing this itself. This was who it was now. Fuyuko was a name meant to separate the disguise from The Lam. Now it was no longer blind to the truth. The dawn does not separate night from day. The dusk does not hide day from night. In truth, night and day never end; they are but extensions of each other. Fuyuko and The Lam were not separate beings but rather extensions of the one true self. This charade could not go on any longer. Shaking hand took a hold of the notebook which Miki had given her when she first came to class. There was only one last untouched page. From that moment, until the sun finally rose, it wrote a story. She wrote a poem. They wrote the truth.

The last day before winter break was a harsh one. Snow beat down upon Oshanaka. Enough to pound out the joy left in the city. Finals came on the tails of the storm. Fuyuko attended class with a poem on a torn piece of paper in her notebook. She knew that today was not the day to share it but felt a strange solace in having it at her side.

When the torture of testing had finally ended, Katsura asked the group if they wanted to brave the storm for “boba”. Naturally, Fuyuko was dragged along. Why should she expect anything else at this point? In addition, she was curious what this “boba” actually was. 

“So…it's a drink?”

The group stood before a small wooden shack, black coats seemingly attacking the pure white of the snow. Katsura took a sip of a mysterious purple liquid too cloudy to see through. At the bottom were what appeared to be pebbles. She looked up and smiled. “Yes, but it is a special drink. It is sweet and has tapioca pearls in it that are like a small treat.”

Fuyuko’s confusion only increased. “Are you trying to retrieve these pearls? Are they valuable?”

Katsura laughed. “No, silly, you eat them. Like this.”

She took a deep sip from the bright green straw and a series of dark shapes moved upward. Fuyuko was deeply disturbed by the sound of the whole ordeal but she had learned to trust Katsura. How bad could it be?

Bad. It was bad. Although the liquid was quite pleasant, the “pearls” were not. The texture was an assault on its tongue. In the first sip alone, it had nearly inhaled ten of the pearls. The group could not help but giggle as Fuyuko lifted up her mask above a bush to spit out each pearl with a sound akin to bubbles popping. When she was done, she turned back to the group. “Do not…eat the pearls. They are cursed. Why must such a wonderful drink have soft rocks in it? Could it not have existed without them?”

Katsura, still laughing, took Fuyuko’s bright pink straw and raised it higher. “There, now you won’t eat the… the rocks.”

The Lam was embarrassed. But somehow it did not feel bad to be embarrassed anymore. Those which it called friends, may make it uncomfortable but it was in a way that even made it laugh. Having friends was not so bad. It understood why humans never went anywhere without them. They made life easier to handle while also making it more difficult. Truly perplexing. 

   

Part 3: Everyone Can Overcome Themselves

Winter break left far quicker than it should have and classes continued as before. Every week was another poetry club meeting. Every week that passed was one during which Fuyuko considered reading the poem it wrote what felt like so long ago. Each time, she felt uneasy and so those weeks passed with the poem still unread.

Then all of a sudden, in the drop of a pin, March had arrived and with it better weather. With better weather came higher spirits for they all knew that the end of school was just around the bend. As the ending neared, Fuyuko knew that she had to come clean. A strong part of The Lam's mind screamed to stay silent and move away without another word. However, the part of Fuyuko’s mind that triumphed was that which valued the truth over its safety. In terms of logic, these thoughts were nonsensical. Why should it jeopardize its safety for its own conscience? This was the sort of thing humans did all the time. They were illogical creatures but surely if it worked for them then it shall work for The Lam. Even if it did go awry, at least it would no longer feel guilt over lying to such kind people for so long.

The days marched along until the last week of the year. That Tuesday was the last Poetry Club meeting of the year. The prompt that Katsura had written on the board was “New beginnings”. 

“Today’s prompt, as you are all aware, is ‘New Beginnings’. Shortly after the last exams, I will be leaving you to pursue higher education. I will pass my leadership onto Ohana Miki as she has plenty of time to run the club after I am gone. Well, now that the formalities are done, let's get to writing shall we?”

Katsura returned to the seat behind the teacher’s desk and the classroom was filled with the scratches of pens. 

Fifteen minutes came to a close and they began to read out loud. As was customary, Miki started. 

“New beginnings, I fear you not.

Through the tears of loss,

The chance at hope it sought.

If it were not for new things,

The old things would rot.

I pray then that life does not

Allow my mind to be stagnant.

Bring me always new beginnings

And my heart will sing.”

The rest of the club applauded as Miki took her seat once more. One at a time, the rest of the room went until it was Katsura's turn. Fuyuko knew she was next and her heart began to beat faster. Sweat began to form beneath the wig. What if she was making the wrong decision? Could this be the day it dies? The Lam tried its best to hold on to its conviction but it slowly began to fall away from it. Katsura stood from behind the larger desk, gazing around the room before finally landing on Fuyuko. It was with this held gaze, that she began to speak. 

“Everyone can overcome themselves.

A fact I have learned through my life.

New beginnings are possible for everyone

No matter who they may be.

Darkness always has the chance to turn to light

Nothing is absolute in its nature

And that is ok.

Change is why the world still spins

It doesn’t matter the age

From a hundred to twelve

I believe that, old or young

With a degree of courage,

And a will befitting it,

Everyone

…And everything

Come overcome themselves.”

With this last phrase, Katsura took her seat once more to the sound of clapping. “Alright Fuyuko, you are the last one. End out the last meeting this year.”

Swallowing her fear, Fuyuko stood. With one shaking hand, it held the notebook. In the other, was the top of the wig upon its head. 

“When I first arrived,

A liar I was.

An identity of which I have grown ashamed

I would not even use my own name.”

The hand slowly pulled off the wig to reveal cut antlers and sheep like ears previously bent down against its skull. The room was silent, so it continued.

“Creature of the night

Killer in moonlight.

A creature

No better

Than you. 

With a cold heart and ill intent

I snuck into your minds

Into your school.

Then I saw your hearts

I met your lives.

You kept this despicable being

Within arms reach 

And you did reach.

With kindness I never understood.

Now I surrender myself.”

She slowly removed its mask to reveal the true face of The Lam. Again the room was silent.

“The Lam

That is who I am.

Killer of Oshanaka

Bearer of bloody claws

A sheep

In human clothing.

Go ahead, burn me

Crucify me and kill me

As is the punishment for liars such as I.”

The Lam looked at the room and only saw eyes of compassion. Somehow it began to get frustrated. Why were they not reacting? “Well? Why are you not screaming? You should be afraid of me! Am I not a monster?” 

Its eyes came to rest on Miki. “I was in your home, shouldn't you hate me for lying to you?” 

Still nothing. Then Miki stood up and walked over to Fuyuko. Wrapping her arms around her, she spoke with her cheek to Fuyuko’s torso. “Don’t be silly, we always knew.” 

The Lam was taken aback by this. “W-what?”

Katsura looked up at her. “Of course, you didn’t hide it as well as you thought.”

Fuyuko’s eyes began to tear up. “T-then why didn’t you say anything? Why did you not kill me? I have done terrible things. What made you remain compassionate?”

“Well,” Katsura stood. “We believed that you could be a good person. Everyone can be. Just because you believed yourself to be a monster doesn’t mean you had to be one. At first we were a bit worried but Miki stood up for you. She said that you had the capacity to be good and she never once backed down from that. She was right. You proved that you are so much more human than you may have thought.”

Fuyuko looked down at Miki who looked back with a wide smile across her face. Fuyuko put her arm around her and whispered in her ear. “Thank you.”

“Of course! What should we call you, now that you are in the open?”

The Lam thought about this. It no longer felt that ‘The Lam’ suited it anymore. No one had ever called it that. It was merely the name it had given itself. It had no real meaning. “Call me Amami Fuyuko. There is no other name I would rather take.”

The day had finished and the moon was gently creeping into the sky as Fuyuko stepped out of the school. At its side was Miki taking large steps to stay in rhythm with her. After a while, Miki broke the silence of the night. “So… will you be coming back next year? Or will you go back to the forest?”

Fuyuko hadn’t thought about this. Long term plans usually were not its strong suit. “I think I might come back if not for the club then just for you. Is that alright with you?”

Miki looked back at the moon. A small smile spread across her face. “Yeah. That would be nice.”

In the cave stood what once was The Lam. Its school uniform lay on the bed along with the mask that it did not need anymore. Although it was past midnight, it did not sleep. Instead, it looked deep into the mirror into its own eyes as if it were studying something to which no one else was privy. Amami Fuyuko stared back. She smiled. The Lam smiled back. It was good to see a familiar face it hadn’t actually seen in quite some time. 

The Lam was a student. Maybe once it had doubted who it was but no longer. Kind and polite, considered charming to any that cross its path. This is not so to say that it is lacking in conviction. Quite the opposite. In terms of every girl that learned in the Oshanaka School For Girls and Boys, it proved itself to be the pinnacle of self reflection and change. Miki had hunted down the innermost being of The Lam that resided in a forest of lies. Whether it was because she was afraid of it or truly believed in its humanity, no one will ever know. It was a choice that stemmed from the fact that her mother had taught her to not judge by face but by character. Instead of running, she pleaded with The Lam in kind gestures as it slowly ripped away at all of the rage stored as a cast around a true self. It had discovered actual passion in writing poems, playing Sakka, even studying as mind-bending as it all was. Perhaps it was this struggle and reward that made it feel alive. Perhaps it was the thrill of being a new person. Even The Lam was not so sure of why it stayed. Only that the joy it brought could never be replaced.

The End