The Education of The Lam

The Lam is a student, and a damn good one at that. Perhaps a little too good. In it's success, it leaves it's comfortable cave in favor of a college exchange program... in America. This is a sequel.

Part 1: The Road Less Travelled By

The Lam loathed the idea of travel. The idea that it should ever have to leave anywhere was abysmal. For aeons, it had lived in the Oshanaka forest. Why should it have to go anywhere else? It feared being away from its cave, it feared being away from Japan, and, most of all, it feared being away from its friends. Now, as it slipped into a fashionable black coat, matching leggings, a beige top and a navy blue skirt, it wondered why it had to have been such a good student. 

It had been nearly four years since The Lam had infiltrated the Oshanaka School For Girls And Boys. A lot had changed since then. Well, a lot had to change. When Amami Fuyuko first stumbled into class, she was a wreck. She could barely speak Japanese, she didn’t know any customs or social cues, and she had not one friend. The Lam hated to admit it, but it made for a pretty poor human. But, as stated before, things demanded change and received as they pleased. The problem of friends was solved pretty handily as Miki picked her up by her undersized uniform, and dragged her along to poetry club. This club then started the solutions to the language and the social cues. By the start of The Lam’s second year, she was almost as close to blending in as any feral bull could be to looking at plate engraving in an educational china shop. In fact, she was so good at being a student, that she had managed to be the top of her class for the last three years. She had remained extremely close friends with Miki and Katsura even after Kat graduated but Fuyuko also gained a great many more friends.

As it put on its pristine mask, one that was certainly more womanly than the last, and a wig of lush dark hair that reached down past its shoulders, it wondered if it was all for naught. Today was the day that Amami Fuyuko and The Lam would have to say goodbye.

It was raining but Fukyuko didn’t mind, her umbrella kept her dry as she stepped into the school. Through the open door, she was met by lines of students from all four grades all along the entry hall. A familiar pair of faces, Miki and Jun, held a large paper sign written in messy print that read: “Good Luck In America, Fuyuko-San!!!!!”

The Lam smiled, its mask smiled for her. For a second, the hall was silent before being filled, wall to wall, with applause. The principal, a strict woman named Chieko, placed a small gift basket filled with trinkets and pieces of chocolate into Fuyuko’s arms. Into her hair, by the soft hands of the first year children, was put seven cherry blossoms, a very lucky number. The Lam knew this. It had picked up on much of the culture of humans over the last four years, more than it had ever wished to know before.

As she was smothered by babbling students and excited hands, Fuyuko allowed her mind to wander, if just for a moment. The Lam never let its intellect get very far from its skull. It wondered where Miki was. It had seen her when it first entered but now its friend had been swallowed by the crowd. Suddenly, a cold hand, accompanied by a small, smooth object, touched Fuyuko’s dangling arm. Having experienced a rare surprise, The Lam blaming it on the sheer volume of the hall, Fuyuko turned in time to receive a surprisingly massive bear hug from an otherwise small girl. Knowing Miki, she wasn’t gonna let go until it was reciprocated and so Fuyuko bent down so that her whole body seemed to drape on her friend, her arms wrapping all the way around her body. “I will miss you, Amami!”

Despite her voice being muffled by the long coat on Fuyuko’s back, she could tell that Miki was crying. Pulling back from the embrace, Miki wiped her tears away from her smile and held out her other hand. “Take this. You will look at it and think of us here. Know that I- we are proud of you. Alright?”

Fuyuko opened her hand and, into her palm, fell a white ceramic crane along with a small folded paper. “Promise me that you will only read that when you feel like America is your new home, ok? I don’t want you to read this until you are sure you will be happy in a new place.”

Fuyuko promised and soon the hall was quiet once more. Principal Chieko stood by the entrance, gesturing for Fuyuko to join her. Once she stood beside her, the principal began to speak. “Students, as you all know, Ms. Amami Fuyuko is going away. She is entering the exchange student program for the University of Maplehurst in Pomford, Massachusetts. She is the first student from the Oshanaka School For Girls And Boys to earn this opportunity. She will be greatly missed. However, we know this: She will bring great honor to our school, to our teachers, our students, and to our wonderful nation of Japan.”

The students and teachers applauded as Principal Chieko bowed to Fuyuko who bowed back in kind. Once they had straightened their backs, the vice principal, Saosao, handed her a small envelope. Enclosed was her plane ticket for tomorrow at eight in the morning. Nodding her thanks, she returned to talking with Miki, Jun, and all the new members of the poetry club. Sure, she wanted to talk to them but The Lam was primarily avoiding the thought that, in about 24 hours, it would be on a plane for the first time and in a new country within twelve hours of that. It shuttered. The thought itself was enough to make it scared and The Lam hated being scared. 

Animals are not meant to fly. Well, most aren't. Flight is a vile topic in most mouths. A blatant display of spite against the natural order of the universe. It was barbaric!  It was unthinkable! It was absurd! It was-

“Would you like cookies or pretzels, miss?”

Fuyuko looked up at the young American flight attendant standing by a massive silver cart. In her hands, she held a small bag of cinnamon wafers and, in the other, was a red bag of pretzels. Fuyuko stared into her perfectly white teeth and begrudgingly pointed at the wafers. The attendant simply placed the bag in Fuyuko's hand along with a small cup of water and moved on. For a moment, she contemplated the strange snack before ripping the bag asunder like a panda pelt. The cookies were… fine. The water was… clean. Ok, perhaps it wasn't absolutely abysmal. It will do for now.

Twelve hours passed under The Lam's ever present gaze. That was a lie. It got very motion sick and slept for about ten hours of the trip. Still, its mind remained a constant observer of the back of its eye lids. When it did stop its ceaseless watch, it awoke in a most uncomfortable position: One long leg splayed out while the other remained folded against the wall. Its left arm was draped across its neck with its head slumped over its elbow as if it were trying to perform a headlock. During its slumber, the mask had become crooked and it couldn’t see anything but the smooth inside. Untying itself and straightening the mask, it peeled itself off the seat, took its only bag from the overhead compartment, and stumbled off the most unnatural means of transportation. 

Getting a taxi was easy enough. Fuyuko, standing at an average six feet nine inches, and the fact that her ceramic face seemed to glow in the setting sun, she had a habit of standing out of almost any crowd. 

The ride to campus was blissfully silent as the driver appeared to be scared of Fuyuko, not even of The Lam. Maybe he was just the type of man to be terrified by a tall woman and she was not inclined to look into it any further than that. 

By the time she arrived, it was about one in the morning but The Lam was not tired. This was due, in part, to the fact that it was a nocturnal animal. However, it didn’t hurt to already have ten hours of sleep under its belt. The residential assistant, or RA, that greeted her, however, looked as if she was on her third sleepless night of a four year long stress bender. Absent-mindedly, the RA, named Martha, handed Fuyuko an envelope, a brochure for the university, a bag of various things, and a sticker that said ‘Proud To Be A Wolf!’ before showing her to her room on the second floor. 

The room itself, number 236, was nothing special. Each side of 236 was identical with a bed of varying heights, a wardrobe with a mirror and three drawers, and a desk and chair set. The Lam's bed was higher up than her roommate’s, the other bed only being about hip height, whereas Fuyuko’s was just below her chin.

Having moved in a couple days before the semester began, Fuyuko’s roommate, whom Martha said was named Elsa, hadn’t yet moved in and it would still be a day before they met. Thankful for the solitude, The Lam cast aside its disguise, putting its clothes on the empty bed on the other side of the room and began to do some rearranging. When it had finished, there were blankets, which it had brought, draped off the mattress and to the floor. The space under the bed, while not being as concealed as that of the cave, was far more suitable than that of a wide open space. It had occurred to The Lam that, half way through the process of settling down, it would have to be within a couple feet of someone every time it would come to the room and so this was its way of combatting the lack of privacy. 

By three in the morning, Fuyuko had put away all her clothes, set up the cave, made her bed, and had located an appliance store on the map of Pomford from which she would acquire a small freezer for the sort of meat that they probably weren’t serving in the mess hall. The Lam had also memorized Fuyuko’s schedule in coordination with the map of campus. It smiled to itself. It would conquer college with a swift and ruthless hand. Not only was it prepared, it was ready and eager for the trials to begin and to prove itself worthy of the name ‘apex predator’ but in a more… family friendly way. Afterall, it had changed and no longer wished to harm anyone, a promise that it had made to Miki. 

The Lam looked at the small crane at the corner of Fuyuko’s desk, on top of a short stack of notebooks. It contemplated the piece of paper beside it. For a moment, it considered reading it but it was suddenly hit with a sense of unease. It was as if the paper knew The Lam was not fully ready, that there was something missing. So, The Lam, suddenly feeling tired, dismissed the urge and slept the rest of the night away. 

‘Move in day’ is an introvert’s hell on Earth. The halls became congested with confused students just wanting to get their stuff to a room and parents treating the whole situation with more patience that it probably warranted. To put it simply, The Lam was not a fan. In order to avoid any and all awkward situations and interactions, it went out and purchased the freezer along with several pounds of raw pork chops. The cashier gave her a strange look but, when she mentioned something about having a good ol’ fashioned American style barbeque, she gratefully got her the meat and wished her a good day. See? The Lam was already killing it at the foreign lifestyle.

Much unlike the first time it had “acquired” pork chops, Fuyuko walked back to campus like a civilized human being instead of sprinting through town on all four limbs.  

When it later returned, the rabble had lowered to a low simmer. Most of the parents were gone leaving the young adults to fend for themselves. One such young adult was that of Elsa Ronson, co-resident of room 236 in Sutland Hall. To say she was rather odd, would be an understatement. Upon Fuyuko’s entry, Elsa barked like a dog, laughed until she snorted when Fuyuko nearly dropped the freezer in her arms, and shook her hand after Fuyuko had set down her load. 

“Hey, I’m Elsa, nice to meet you roomie! Are you excited for classes? It's gonna be great. Is this your first time in America? How do you like it? Are you in any clubs yet? Do you want to be a cheerleader? I’m a cheerleader, it's pretty pretty cool.”

Fuyuko, despite her comprehension of her new roommates seemingly compounding words, she simply stood and blinked. She had never met anyone that had talked this fast, let alone in a language that was, relatively speaking, new to her. For three years, both during classes and during the summer, she had studied English. Now it seemed as if it was all for nothing. If all Americans talked like this, The Lam was in for a world of hurt. 

However, she still shook Elsa’s hand once before dropping her arm and answering every question in sequence with a monotone cadence. “...Yes, hello. I am Fuyuko. I am ready for classes. Yes, this is my first time in America. It’s fine. No, I’m not in any clubs yet. I don’t know what a cheerleader is, nor do I wish to find out. Now, if you will let me, I will be back to my things.”

While she attended to plugging in the freezer in the cave, Elsa kept asking questions which, after a sigh or a shrug, Fuyuko would answer. “Hey, so what's with the mask?”

“I was burned as a child.”

“Do you go by Amami? Or Fuyuko? I have been studying your culture a bit. The new internet is crazy. Have you heard of Google? I learned a lot about Japan from that.”

“You will use Fuyuko. Amami is for my friends. No, I do not own a computer. 

Despite The Lam’s obvious dismissal of Elsa’s attempts to socialize, she simply kept talking. Desperate for a slight escape, it ducked under the blanket and into the privacy of the cave. Finally alone, The Lam removed its mask, placing it gently onto the desk. Pulling the strange chair, which seemed to rock back on itself, from under the desk, it nearly fell onto the wooden seat. The first interaction with her new roommate was brief but even those few minutes seemed to make it exhausted.

For a moment, it closed its eyes, allowing its chin to rest on its elbows. A quiet second later, there was a rustling. “So, are you going to the football game next week?”

The Lam practically fell out of the rocking chair, hands fumbling for the mask. One hand holding the ceramic to its face, it turned to see Elsa, her whole head inside the cave. Trying not to shout, The Lam took a deep breath. “No.”

“Oh well, thought I’d check. Just let me know if you change your mind, I will be performing and could get you a guaranteed student ticket.”

As Elsa backed out of the cave, something became apparent to The Lam: nowhere was safe.

Part 2: A Study in Grit, A Test in Patience

Week One, Monday 

Shakespeare is one of only a few topics with which The Lam had no experience. It had heard the name in passing once, maybe twice but that was about it. The Lam was never one for fake old stories written by dead men. Strutting into the lecture hall of the arts and humanities building, it believed that, despite its lack of familiarity, it would succeed. 

The first face that she saw, stepping into the large hall, was that of the professor. Fuyuko was early, of course and so the only person there was Dr. Lona, a young spindly instructor who looked as if she would fall apart if you merely touched her. However, despite her frail appearance, she greeted Fuyuko by name in a strong yet approachable voice which could easily command the whole lecture hall. Fuyuko was amazed that she already knew her name. When asked, Dr. Lona laughed. “Well, while Japanese exchange students are not uncommon, it is rare that you meet one with a mask. That isn’t to say it's bad, just unique. Delightfully so.”

This wasn’t the first time that The Lam had felt uneasy about its mask, far from it. However, this being its first encounter with someone in a position of authority, this seemed to hit rather hard. However, it swallowed its pride and nodded before taking a seat in the back. 

 Despite Dr. Lona’s powerful voice, class seemed to drag on for hours. From nine till half past ten, she talked about only the first scene from Hamlet. Feigning attentiveness, The Lam wanted nothing more than to break free from the hall and into the autumn sun but, be it as it may, it sat through the whole class, writing notes between stifled yawns. Then, when Dr. Lona eventually wished them to have a good day and that she would see them on Wednesday, The Lam practically flew from its seat and, shoulder bag flying like a banner behind the strange tall girl in the back of the room, it made a brisk escape into the air of the Maplehurst Concourse. 

The Maplehurst Concourse is a very large and notable section of the large campus. The Maplehurst Concourse or, as students and locals call it, The Con, was a large circular lawn that doubled the size of a football track. Spreading itself before the massive clock tower, it was a sight for readers, joggers, volley ball players, and dog walkers from the university and from the surrounding Pomford to get out and get some air. The Con was generally considered one of the premier spots on campus to do pretty much anything. 

Fuyuko’s watchful gaze laid upon the various inhabitants of the large lawn underneath the slowly reddening trees. She had decided to take a walk around it before her next class at eleven. This was a very good idea as she had been rather cramped in the back of Dr. Lona’s lecture. She took a sigh of relief, thankful to be outside. While The Lam had become quite human, there were still moments like these that reminded itself from whence it came. 

Upon its return to the dorm room, it left rather promptly once more. Elsa was with about three other girls, all of whom were sitting, legs stretched across the floor, doing each other’s hair. When Fuyuko first entered, the others squealed a bit before talking at her all at once. One offered to do her hair, one asked about the mask, another wanted to paint her nails a violent red, and Elsa just sat and laughed before telling them to quiet down. However, before any of them did, The Lam had already exited. The whole experience was a little… much. 

 Week One, Friday

The Lam hated its bed. Back at home, it had a wonderful Japanese made bed with beautiful pink sheets which hugged its long body perfectly. Now, it had the same sheets. Sheets maketh not the bed and so it could not sleep. It had been doing good so far this week, having had to get up only one other time to stretch a bit. Now, it had to get out. It wasn’t quite sure what it was that told it this, but the call was undeniable.

Careful not to awake Elsa, the heaviest sleeper in the universe, The Lam laid down the mask onto the pillow and snuck out of the room, out of the dorm, and into the moon. The Lam stuck its neck out to the sky, allowing the cool wind of Autumn brush against its hairless skin, and took a small sigh of relief. For the first time since its first year of school, it missed the woods, with its own trees taller than the highest parts of its discomfort, a wall against the world. Pushing aside the thoughts of the West Oshanaka Bamboo Forest, it put its head down and continued to walk. Silent as the stars, it walked about seven times around The Con before finally feeling tired enough to put back on the mask and finish its sleep for the night. 

Week Two, Wednesday

Poetry. Finally, something it knew. Had it not been so tired, it would have been excited for its eleven AM workshop in the very subject. But The Lam was tired. It wasn’t so much that it hadn’t slept. It had only wandered The Con Sunday and Monday and only for a couple hours each time. No, this was the tiredness that came with keeping up appearances. Every day, it would put on the mask after a shower and wouldn’t take it off until Elsa finally fell asleep, which was pretty late. Its nose, while not protruding very far from its face, was becoming sore and the skin around the mask began to itch and yet The Lam wore it regardless. The risk of discovery was a price that the discomfort would have to pay. 

So, Fuyuko pranced into Poetry Workshop and sat at the front desk, nose painfully tucked behind a ceramic smile. A quarter of an hour later, Mr. Smith, a creative writing grad student, shuffled to the front of the class and offered his usual grin to the small population of students. 

Today was a presentation day. Well, every Wednesday was a presentation day. Mr. Smith would give them a topic on each Wednesday of the week and they would present poems on or around said topic. Today’s topic happened to be nature, that which The Lam missed so dearly. 

Upon Mr. Smith’s request for volunteers, Fuyuko hurriedly raised her hand, the fastest draw of the east. Unfortunately, it was not her hand which was picked. The noble samurai had been struck down by one nary a hair faster. With a smug grin perched just below the worst bowl cut of all time, a man named Johnson took the stage. The Lam grunted and bore its teeth below the mask. He was perhaps the most pretentious man she had ever come across. From day one, when he had first talked to her, there was a bad taste in her mouth. He was the type to correct you that his name was “Not John, my name is Johnson, ok?”

His first time talking to Fuyuko, he had called her an unsavory word. One which she had never even heard before and knew not why it was supposed to hurt. That was until a smaller boy in the class, named Howard or Howie, explained that it was a slur and that it was one which implied Fuyuko’s attraction to other women. This was, of course, ridiculous to The Lam. It was the only one of its kind and so it knew no such thing about sexual attraction. Once more, it began to feel as if it didn’t have a grasp of humans as it wondered why that was such a thing to be insulted about. No matter, the event had stained its vision of the self proclaimed “Johnson”.

A cough from the bowl cut brought Fuyuko back to reality. In a deep, yet oh so nasally voice, Johnson began to preach his ridiculous poetry which appeared to be compensating for… something he was lacking. 

My thoughts are as wide as the trees

Tall as mountains, fleet footed as the breeze

Never has one seen such a view

My wits are an ocean

Green yellow pink and blue

My eyes will dawn on you

Could I not be me, why be at all?

To be or not to be, the thrice fold coward’s fall.

Without my ears, I couldn’t hear my mother nature’s call.

When he had finished, there were only a few small scattered snaps. Snaps were the poetry equivalent of clapping just in a more dignified manner. Despite the snaps, Johnson appeared disappointed that he hadn’t received more. Fuyuko believed he got a few more than he deserved.

When he had returned to his seat, Mr. Smith gestured to Fuyuko but she wasn’t feeling quite as enthusiastic by then. Her closely tethered mind had began to wander again. It tended to do that a lot these days. However, in the spirit of Katsura, she stood up regardless and cleared her throat. When she spoke, she was aware that her English had an accent to it but she fought through it anyway.

The trees, the leaves, the cold ground

My home, with life, forever will abound.

Forever and ever more.

Often I look up and wonder

Why is it that I am here?

Among this life

Among the flora and fauna.

I wonder if I am just another aspect

Maybe something more.

Maybe nothing at all

The stars are so far

Their souls burning in the night

They are so large

I am but a speck and yet

I am more

I am here

I am me

Forever and ever more…

When she had finished, the silence resounded for just a moment. When the snaps did eventually begin, they had multiplied since their last appearance. As she glanced around, she saw admiring eyes looking up to her. Then there was Johnson, a disgusted look on his face and the middle digit of his left hand raised toward obscenity. Fuyuko looked him right in the eyes and flung out her index finger towards his chest before lowering it into an upside down ‘V’, what Americans would call a peace sign. Once her small clap back had concluded, she took her seat once more.

After class, Howie approached her with yet another group of college students and asked if she wanted to have lunch. Fuyuko, however, couldn’t hear him. Well, not that she couldn’t hear him but rather that she couldn’t bring herself to. Everything seemed to bother her and, given her mood, she thought it best to not shove that on anyone. Instead, Fuyuko merely said “how about another time?”

Without waiting for a definitive answer, she just walked off in favor of the library, the only true privacy on campus. Had it been open later than nine at night, The Lam might’ve spent the night nestled between the shelves of books. Instead, it merely spent as much time there as it could. Anywhere but the dorm. It thought it strange that it had somehow been alienated within its own living space. It also tried its best to ignore that thought.

Week Three, Tuesday

Even as the dawn rose above the bell tower in the center of campus, The Lam’s heart was still racing. Yesterday was close. Too close.

As it lay, eyes examining the dorm ceiling, it could still see the absolute terror in the eyes of the young girl out on The Con, her scleras glowing in the moonlight. Perhaps she too could not sleep. Perhaps she will never sleep again.

The Lam hadn’t intended to roam that night but a sudden sound outside had caused it to wake and it needed to walk to fall asleep again. Had it known it would have been spotted, it never would have gone. 

It had been a very long time since anyone had looked at The Lam in such a way, her eyes were that of a baby panda watching The Lam hunt: helpless. Had she understood what she saw in the slightest, The Lam might’ve been chased down. Instead, she just stood there, frozen in the headlights. Not that it mattered though. The Lam had made its quickest getaway in ages. Mere seconds after it had been seen, it was back in the dorm building, cursing between ragged breaths. It clearly was not as in shape as it used to be. 

Sure, it had gotten away, but the thoughts of being discovered still lingered on. With these thoughts bouncing around its mind, it forbade itself from wandering any more that week. 

Despite Fuyuko’s hatred of quantifying anything, she was frustratedly good at math. So good, in fact, that she was far beyond most of her classmates in her Stats class. 

Today was a quiz day, a truly important day for Fuyuko. She had studied several times over and found herself prepared to ace the quiz. That was until she saw the paper. There was not a single question on the quiz which she had studied for. Despite everything she tried, she began to sweat under the wig. She was outraged, mortified, and simply upset. 

As if this day could get any worse.

The Lam grimaced. It should have known better than to challenge fate. During the quiz, her pencil broke and she had to do the walk of shame to the professor’s desk to ask for another. That one also broke but Fuyuko was not about to go get another so, large fingers gripping the small piece of graphite, she filled out the rest of the quiz at a painstakingly slow pace, finishing barely a second before the class concluded. 

On top of the pencil fiasco, the strap on her mask also snapped, leading her to holding onto it with one hand while the other let her into the dorm to get a spare strip of leather. 

Desperate to put an end to this streak of bad luck, she looked to the small crane at the corner of the desk. Carefully cradling it in her hands, Fuyuko offered up a small prayer. 

Shizen no Seishin, Shi no Rei, (Spirit of Nature, Spirit of Death,)

Watashi no te o michibiku. (Guide my hand.)

Kono ikoku no chi de, watashi o kōun ni michibiite kudasai. (In this foreign land, lead me toward good fortune.)

Watashi no arasoi wa takusan arimasu. (My struggles are many.)

Watashi ga taerareru ijō no mono - gaidodako o kashite. (Lend me strength beyond what I can endure - grant me your guidance.)

When the prayer had concluded, she felt only slightly better about herself. The gods always had hated The Lam, so the prayer probably did nothing. Perhaps it was the crane that did all the work. 

She looked over at the note that the crane had previously sat on and suddenly felt a pang of guilt. Despite how long it had been there, she still didn’t feel worthy of Miki’s words. So she averted her gaze and returned the crane to its resting spot.

The Lam tried to stay still in its bed but it seemed to be an impossible task. Like a wild animal scratching at the bars of its cage, The Lam’s hooves shifted endlessly within its sheets. Still, it refused to leave the room. Freedom was an ancient instinct and yet fear was even more primal, overriding everything else. So, trembling and growling, it forced itself into an early slumber. 

Week Four, Friday

Fuyuko itched at the edges of her mask, thankful that it was Friday. Lunch had just concluded, its usual meal of raw pork chops eaten discreetly from its bento box at the back corner of the food court. Unlike most creatures, the food in its system did not make it sluggish but rather energized for an agonizingly long three hour Psychology 101 class at one. 

Dr. Patson was very aware that his once a week class was a gruelling one. No one wanted to sit in a psych class for a prolonged period of time, let alone with a boring professor. So, he did what he could to fix the only thing he could and fought tooth and nail to keep his students engaged. For the most part, he was extremely unsuccessful. Almost every student fell asleep at some point in the lecture. That was, all except Fuyuko. Without any intention, she had inadvertently become Dr. Patson’s favorite student. Afterall, The Lam couldn’t bring itself to even fall asleep in its bed. It was so tired that it had gone full circle so that it could do nothing but sit up straight in its seat, intent on listening to him lecture about Carl Jung and his theories about persona.

“- like a mask, it covers up the true man below. Nowadays, the term persona has become synonymous with being several different people but that is not entirely accurate. We aren’t clinically or physically a different person. You don’t become a ghost when you put a sheet over your head, you take on the appearance of one, albeit a poor one at that. That being said, the idea of being several people or having several masks is still within Jung’s theory. You can have many different personalities with all sorts of different groups. For instance, you aren’t going to act like you are at a library when you go to a frat party. No, you will adopt the personality which allows you to make the most out of the party, even if you are like me and hate parties. This brings us to the last point of today’s class: the true man. Who you are never really changes when you put on the mask. You still remain under the shroud. Not to say that human beings are impervious to change, we are constantly changing. Rather that it will always be you under the mask, no one else. Cool, well it looks like that's about the end. Have a good weekend, try not to party too much at the game tomorrow. Cheers.”

Fuyuko stumbled out of the lecture hall and back to her dorm. Grateful that the room was empty, she threw the mask onto her desk and buried her face in her pillow. For a long while, it lay motionless before deciding to get up once more. It had homework due at midnight and couldn’t bring itself to procrastinate any longer. The assignment in question was an essay on Freud and his five psychosexual stages of human development which it found to be ridiculous. 

Writing a total of five sentences on the matter of the oral stage, it set aside the pen and stared absent mindedly at the page before putting its chin on the desk and allowing itself to doze for a couple hours.

After dinner, it passed out on its bed, face down so that Elsa didn’t see its face. 

The Lam had a nightmare. It was far from the first time that it had this particular nightmare, although it could never remember the details, just the fact that it was familiar. For an entire week and a half, it had awoken to the sound of nothing and simply stared down at Elsa. On top of wandering every night and having this nightmare, it had hardly slept at all. Now, the nightmare had come once more, and something inside The Lam seemed to just… snap.

The night became a black viscera dripping through the mind of The Lam, its tendrils oozing from its sawed off antlers and clouding its unblinking, watching eyes. Burning desire chewed away at its clipped claws and chipped maw. Never had it once looked at the sleeping woman in the bed across the room with such fury, such rage. It was an unbridled force, a typhoon of murderous intent. 

Hunched over itself, The Lam sat up in its bed contemplating its first murder in years. When did it begin to be considered ‘murder’? When The Lam had last killed someone, the original Amami Fuyuko, it had thought very little of it. It was a hunter, it was natural. Sure, it had faltered and failed its night at Miki’s house, but that was different. It never meant ill toward her, it was merely trying to prove that it was still itself. Now, it considered an ill mannered murder, not a simple killing. 

What was it thinking? What was it actually thinking? Was it crazy? 

Pulling away the covers, The Lam nearly leapt off its bed before scrambling to its hooves. 

No. No. No. Bad Amami, Bad.

It ran out of the room, down the dorm stairs and eventually into the night. The months were slowly making their march towards winter, the cold made this apparent. It did not, however, bother The Lam. It was too busy chanting to itself.

No. No. No.

It ran to The Con but it did not walk. Instead, it just stood on the lawn, hitting the ground with all the force in its body.

No. No. No. I have changed. I have changed, I swear. 

Why was it relapsing? It had overcome the hunter. It had slain that which created its lust for blood. That wasn’t who it was anymore, right?

The Lam began to slam its head into the ground allowing the dirt to fly around it. Once it grew weary of its punishment, it curled up in a small ball. The only sound in the night were its hushed whimpers and muted sobs. 

For hours, it lay motionless. Perhaps it would be better for everyone if it were to simply disappear into the wilderness again. Perhaps it could start again. The Lam knew better than that. There was no going back.

When it believed that it had served its penance, it stood back on its hobbling knees and walked like a human back to the dorm. It took one last look at Elsa with softer eyes before laying back into its bed, dirt and all. 

Week Five, Thursday

“Now, turn your textbooks to page 213, the first page of Japanese mythology.”

For the most part, Fuyuko had found Mythology and Religion to be an extremely dull class. Same as with Shakespeare, she failed to understand the importance of dead stories of dead gods by dead men. Yet, it still never once skipped class. 

Today, however, was different. On the very front of page 213 was a very large photo of a Japanese mural, it depicted a hunched, long bodied creature with cloven hooves, a flat face, and a many toothed grin dripping with blood. Fuyuko stared at the painting, and The Lam stared back. 

The description of itself made The Lam enraged. It was all wrong. It was labelled as unintelligent, monstrous, and having wings. The wings were slightly humorous, the rest was just outright disrespectful. It was also given another name unlike the one it gave itself: Yagi-Youkai, Goat Monster. 

Was that all it was? A monster? 

The professor, Dr. Hoper called Yagi-Youkai a magical beast which would swoop in and kill entire groups of children if it was provoked or not given an offering. Upon hearing this, Fuyuko immediately raised her hand without thinking twice.

“Yes, Ms. Fuyuko?”

“Well, don’t you think it's a bit ridiculous that it would fight a whole group? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“No, Yagi-Youkai was strong enough and as fast as the wind. It would have probably taken out mythological Japan if it were more intelligent. Instead, it is just a symbol of the dangers of the mountains, nothing more.”

The professor, clearly not willing to entertain the idea that Yagi-Youkai might be real and sitting in the same room as him, The Lam felt insulted. Fuming, and unable to take it any more, Fuyuko walked out of her first class in her college career.

Seconds became hours as The Lam squirmed in its bed. The sheets had already been thrown to the floor even though Elsa was not even asleep yet, rather she was brushing her teeth down the hall. The Lam was scratching at its face, blood dripping around its mask. 

The Lam had had on the mask too long, this had become apparent. It felt as if Fuyuko’s hands were pressing down on The Lam’s throat, not allowing a single breath or word to escape. A slow and painful suffocation, one that had lasted weeks and had no intention of letting up. It had to go. It didn't know where but It just had to. 

Ripping the hands from its neck, and the disguise from its desecrated body, it leapt through the open dorm window. Landing in a roll on the grass behind the building, it skittered for a second before arching its back and frantically taking off at a full sprint on all fours across campus.

It ran toward the bell tower, its hide reflecting the warm light of the lamp beside it. For an extended moment, it paced back and forth underneath the small artificial sun as it tried to regain its bearings. The entire world felt as if it had fallen off its axis and was slowly spinning downward. 

Suddenly, the sound of voices pierced its active mind. With no prior warning, a group of four or five men started pointing and shouting at something from across The Con. Having been undercover so long, it took a second for The Lam to figure out that it was in fact the thing being pointed at. Upon this realization, its heart jumped into its throat causing its blood to run cold. This time it was stuck in the head lights. Terror took hold and it let out an animalistic howl that shattered the lamp and echoed through The Con. Without a single thought in its muddy mind, it began to run once more. This time it didn’t feel winded, nor did it feel tired. For the first time in years, it was the apex predator of the West Oshanaka Bamboo Forest. 

Over bushes and between trees, the hunter ran, howling the entire way. Never once did it look back. How could it? There was no going back. Such was the end of Amami Fuyuko and the undoing of The Lam. 

It wasn’t sure how it was going to get home but it first had to get away. So it continued to gallop across streets, between houses, and over fences until it eventually reached what appeared to be a wall of bushes. Winding up on its hind legs, it bounded over them and was suddenly met with a shock when it landed in the cold water beyond. 

In its animalistic rampage, it had forgotten the river which lay just beyond the Maplehurst campus. Normally, this would be no problem for the average human. Well, the beast was no average human and it could not, in fact, swim. So, instead of gliding through the rushing river like a wonderful swan, it instead flailed around like a newly born swan who had just been thrust into the water. 

Between gasps of air, gulps of ice water, and the wind blowing against its outstretched limbs, came a voice. Although it could not tell what it said, it still reached toward it until its hand connected with something warm. Holding tight, it was dragged from the river by the hand of a man dressed in so many layers he might as well have been a clothes rack. 

For a long while, it lay on its side coughing up a grotesque mixture of water and blood onto the concrete below. When it finally regained control over its senses, it sat up to see the man nearby accompanied by a fire just large enough for two. He patted a pillow on the blanket beside him. Actively shivering, The Lam took the seat, its hesitation being outweighed by the survival instinct to stay warm. 

When its teeth finally stopped chattering, the man finally spoke. “So… uh, are you ok? You look a bit rough. Bad night?”

It was then that The Lam remembered that it was completely unmasked and naked, its true self. Lacking the energy to do anything about this fact, it merely sighed. “Yeah… Yeah. I’m ok though.”

The man laughed and began to light a small intricately wrapped tube before taking a long puff. The fumes, while strong, seemed to help to clear The Lam’s mind. “I’ve heard that kind of statement a lot from people who jump into the river. They never mean it though, not really. So what's the deal?”

He held out a similarly wrapped tube, a joint, towards The Lam who shook its head. Instead of taking it back, the man simply put it at The Lam’s feet and gestured to it. “It's there if you need it. Now, what’s wrong?”

The Lam briefly considered running away from the stranger but ultimately decided that it had had enough of running. “Look… um… So, I am a student at Maplehurst and I, well, I have just felt… stuck. I have no friends, I am set apart from everyone, and it hurts. I don’t have anywhere to go, I don’t know what to do. I’m just stuck. So I… I ran.”

The man, whose eyes were trained on the flames, sat considering its words. “I have been where you are. I know. I once went to college, a long time ago. I also got stuck. I may not have jumped into a river but I certainly jumped out of the pool, out of the deep end. Four months. Four months and I would have not been living here, under this beautiful bridge.”

The Lam flicked at the joint by its leg. “Well, where did you go wrong?”

“I walled myself off. I never had any friends, I never went to parties. I lived a pathetic existence where I never once had fun. I wasted all those years over a simple lack of willingness to put myself out there. I was put down for my lack of action by everyone around me.”

“Well, how do I avoid doing that?”

“Find something you love, more than anything, and do it. Do it until your fingers bleed. Find people you love, and love them. Simple as that.”

Silence enveloped the bridge. It was the kind of silence which picked its mood. Upon those of sound conscious, it bestowed a serenity. Upon those that battled with themselves, it forced a conclusion. Soon, The Lam grew tired of keeping up its faux face and finally removed the mask on its tongue. “Truth be told, I am no human. I am no student. Merely an animal caught within a lie within a lie. I am no better than a liar to you, those I called friends, and to that which I call myself.”

The man took a large sigh, his breath creating steam in the early winter air. “Why do we call ourselves all this… stuff? Isn’t it harmful to label things? I think we should be the trees. They don’t call each other nothin, they just grow with each other.”

When was it that The Lam had started to categorize itself? First a hunter, an animal, a human, and now, a woman. 

In nature, no labels meant anything. A spider was not called small by those greater than it, it is merely known by its name. A snake was as revered as a lion, which is to say that it was not revered at all. There was merely fear and courage, it was these that defined where it was in nature that any creature would sit. It was humans that had begun the labels. They would call each other many things: black, white, man, woman, young, old, serf, king. They would then use these labels to start wars, to create friends, and to tear the souls of men into too many pieces to put together again. 

Such had occurred to the man with which it now sat. He too had been called many things: poor, unintelligent, and worthless. Yet, his soul had remained in one piece. He had pushed through this tirade of insults like salmon swimming upstream. Truly, he was as nature intended. 

The Lam smiled, a pained but slowly softening smile, and took the joint which the man had put on the blanket before it. It knew that it lacked the ability to get high but perhaps it was the glow of the flame that seemed to comfort its mind. 

“Yes, like the trees. Well, maybe labels are not so terrible. Without a name or a nature, we are no better than moss on a cosmic stone. I don’t think the point of our lives is overcoming our labels but rather finding those that we find define us the way we wish. I chose this label of human, the label of student, and the label of Amami. Fate may have had a hand but it is yet powerless to our own stubborn nature.”

When the man said nothing, The Lam looked and saw the glint of tears within his eyes. It looked back out at the river and simply continued to pull at the joint until nothing was left before finally eating the end. 

For hours, they just sat, doing nothing, saying nothing, watching the night fade to day. When the sun finally arose, The Lam stood with the intent to return in its heart. Before it could thank the man for opening its mind, The Lam was suddenly wrapped in a bear hug not unlike the one which Miki had given Fuyuko all those months ago. In a mellow yet hope filled voice, the man thanked it for sitting with a poor fellow like him, even if just for a night. Unable to think of anything to say, The Lam simply nodded before walking into the shine of a new day. 

Part 3: Go Wolves!

Week Six, Monday

Over the last week, Dr. Lona had them read all of these tragic stories such as Hamlet and Othello, both of which end rather poorly. Today was different. Onto her desk, she dropped a stack of thin books the color of fresh cut grass. “Well, I think we will be done with the tragedies for now. Everyone come up and get a Midsummer Night’s Dream script. Yes, I said script. We are going to be acting this out in small groups.”

Shortly after all the books had been passed out, the immense lecture hall was divided into four groups of eighteen actors. Each person was given a role in accordance with their comfortability reading out loud. Fuyuko was given that of Snug, an actor who portrays a lion on a stage within a stage. 

Briefly skimming her lines, she found Snug to be quite the sensitive soul. He worries about scaring the audience of their little play for the lord of Athens with his lion’s roar. So, he convinces his director, Mr. Peter Quince, to allow him to make an announcement at the beginning of the play that he is not a lion, just a man in a mask. Sure, some people might think this as a coward's way out, that he is afraid of fear but, as Fuyuko saw it, his admittance that he is just a man was perhaps another form of bravery. Instead of ducking behind a costume and false face, he stands before everyone and shows just how human he really is. 

Soon after the reading commenced, starting with Act One, she found a smile forming under her own mask. The forest and the rejection from Athens brought her to good spirits. It was refreshing to see someone go through what she had, albeit in the opposite nature.

Perhaps Shakespeare was not so bad. 

When class ended, surprising Fuyuko, she walked back to the dorm with a fire in her heart. She knew what she had to do.

“Hey, Elsa? I want to show you something.”

Cross legged on the floor between their beds, the two residents of room 236 on the second floor of Sutland Hall faced each other in much closer vicinity than they ever had before.

Bending her neck, Fuyuko put her head closer to her roommate’s chest. “I want you to remove my mask.”

“Uh… ok?”

Elsa, although flustered, lifted her hands, the ceramic smooth and cool on her fingers. Slowly, she pushed the mask up and over Fuyuko’s hair.

“You can call me Amami, by the way.”

When the mask was fully removed, Elsa didn’t flinch, nor did she scream. Her head simply tilted like a dog examining something it can’t quite understand. 

“I’m sure you can tell that I am not a human, correct?”

Elsa nodded. “Well, what are you then?”

Fuyuko thought about it, The Lam thought even harder. “A friend.”

Elsa nodded even more, a slight smile starting to form across her lips. “Well, I will never ever turn down a new friend. Guess this means you won't be needing your mask then.”

Fuyuko shook her head. “No, no. This is a very dangerous world for those that humans do not understand. I won’t need my mask in the room but I will need it out in the world. You are not to tell anyone, can I trust you to do that?”

Elsa affirmed. “Girl, I am a lot of things, but I ain’t no snitch. Especially not with my friends. Your secret is safe with me, Amami.”

Week Seven, Wednesday

As was usual with Poetry Workshop, it was a presentation day once again. The topic was family. 

Already, Fuyuko’s day was off to a strong start. On the way to class, she had run into Howie and his friend Jayla who was also a Creative Writing major. Together, they entered the room and sat at the customary seats at the front left corner of the room, just across from Mr. Smith’s desk. Eventually the other three members of the group joined them and class began. 

After a few opening remarks, Mr. Smith called for volunteers. Fuyuko, of course, raised her hand but at a more leisurely pace. When she turned to face the students, a despondent and disheartened Johnson caught her eye. He may not have been her favorite person in the world, far from it, in fact, but she could still tell something was off. His usual smug and stiff nature had eroded down his eyes and posture. 

Setting aside her thoughts about Johnson, she began to read out loud the poem in her hands.  

Family is a choice

Choices are hard

Family is hard

Sometimes you are the one that chooses

Who it is that is your family

But, most of the time,

It is them at chooses you

For better or worse,

Through thin and thick

They will be there

As will you

Despite their choices

It comes down to you to stay

I will stay.

Although the usual parade of snaps marched through, she still could not take her eyes off the boy in the corner, bowl cut and all.

After class, she told Howie to go on to the food court without her to which he nodded, not questioning her motive for staying behind. 

For a minute, she stood outside the classroom until the final student exited, the person she was waiting for.

“Why the hell are you here? Don’t you have lunch with your pack of lackeys?”

Johnson didn’t look up at Fuyuko, he didn’t need to. There was something just strange enough in the way she held herself that you could simply tell she was there. 

Fuyuko let out a light chuckle. “Yes, well, I thought you needed someone to walk with, that's all.”

Johnson scoffed and began to walk away. “Where’d you get that idea?”

She caught up in one easy stride. “You didn’t share your poem today.”

“Yeah? What’s the big deal? It wasn’t any good anyway. Better off not writing it at all. Why are you being so nice to me? I’m awful to you, to everyone.”

The Lam took a deep breath, regaining any composure it might’ve lost. “Someone once told me that anyone had the capacity for good. That just because you believed yourself to be a monster doesn’t mean you have to be one. Now, care to walk with me for a while?”

“Can you read me your poem?”

Although there had been no verbal confirmation, Johnson had walked alongside Fuyuko most of the way around The Con before stopping and sitting on the grass. Seeing his hesitation, she held out her hand. “Can I read it to you?”

After a moment of consideration, he handed over his small blue notebook with the page turned to the poem labelled ‘Wednesday - Family’. 

Without a second glance, she began to carefully place every word on her tongue.

What the hell is family?

Never once has one presented itself

Do I belong?

Where?

Why?

If man is just an animal,

Why must we be a pack? 

Wolves are just fine

On their own

Why can’t I be as well?

Shutting the notebook, Johnson tore it out of her hand and shoved it back in his bag without a word. As he did, the strange girl’s hand appeared on his knee. 

“I liked it.”

“It was crap.”

“No, no it wasn’t. However, I think you got something wrong.”

Johnson continued to stare at her hand, at the sun reflecting off of her bright red nails. “Oh yeah? What then?”

Fuyuko removed her hand and instead held it up before the young man. “Wolves aren’t lone animals. They live and survive in packs, together. So do we.”

Johnson looked up at the kind eyes behind the mask then down at the hand. 

“Come to lunch with me. I promise you won’t be alone.”

He considered it for a moment before begrudgingly taking her hand. “Fine. But, if they hate me, it's all your fault.”

“That’s a risk I am willing to take.” 

Week Eight, Tuesday

“Uh, why are you here?”

“I invited him, now sit down Jayla.”

It had nearly been a week since Johnson had accepted Fuyuko’s invitation to the food court. It took every day since to build up courage to go. Reaching out to new people was never really his thing. Since he could remember, people hated everything about him: his attitude, his voice, and even his want to excel. It was this disconnect that made it hard for him to make any real friends. Instead of turning to people his age, he tended to talk to his parents. Not that his parents were any help, sometimes a brick wall was better to talk to than nothing. 

Now, here he was, sitting at a round table with his first friend in years and a group of strangers. While she was warm, the others were cold as ice. However, he braved the cold because it was Fuyuko who helped to lessen the frostbite. 

Once everyone was seated with their food, Fuyuko raised her voice above the din of the food court. “Now that we are all really here, I wanted to make a proposition.”

Although they had always seemed to be a rowdy bunch, Johnson was amazed at how they all sat up straight and became quiet at the sound of her voice. Sometimes he wished he could command a room like that.

“Over the last week or so, we have been planning, of course, to start an official poetry club. As of now, there are six members.” 

She went around the table as both a way to take inventory of who was present and as a covert way of giving Johnson all of their names. “Howie, Jayla, Robert, Chloe, Sean, and myself. My proposition is that we add one more initial member.”

The others began to groan. They all knew what she was about to say.

“- Johnson.”

Once their sounds of protest ended, Howie, who was seated next to Fuyuko, whispered into her ear. She turned to him, her mask seeming to extrude a certain strictness. “Do you not trust me? I brought him here, with us, for a reason. Believe me when I say this: this will be good for all of us. Are there any that truly object to this? Put down your hand, Johnson, I know you want to.”

Looking around the table, she found that there were none. “So it is decided then. Next week, Monday night in the library, we will begin the meeting in the second floor study room. All seven members, yes, seven, are required to attend this first meeting. Understood?”

All of the poets around the table nodded timidly. This tall girl was quite frightening and yet there was a certain wisdom about her, that of a great leader and an even greater friend. 

Johnson was nearly ecstatic about the idea of the club. Finally, a chance to connect. A way to show himself as he really is and not just that which people believe him to be.

Are you watching, world? Johnson Bailey is finally showing his true self.

Week Nine, Monday

Out of breath, and out of time, Johnson Bailey made his mad dash across campus, hand written paper in hand. 

“Late as usual, eh Johnson?”

“Oh, ha ha ha. Shut up Howie.”

Although Howie laughed, Fuyuko, who stood at the front of the study room in the library, simply waited patiently for him to take a seat before beginning the opening rites.

“Welcome all, dreamers and the like, to the first meeting of the nearly official Maplehurst Poetry Club. I am Amami Fuyuko, your Poet Laureate for but this humble well from which we draw our creative wits. As will be with all meetings henceforth, a poem chosen by the seated Laureate will be read out loud to commence the sharing and writing of all poems thereafter. There will be no other poems spoken before the opening rites which the Laureate will decide prior to each meeting. Any questions?”

When her question was only answered by eager eyes, she turned back to the paper and flipped to the next page. “The current Laureate has chosen a very special poem: The Road Not Taken by the esteemed Robert Frost.”

-I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

When the opening rites ended, the room was filled with excited silence. “Now, we may begin. The topic for today's poetry club is discovery. Do with that as you will. We will write for ten to fifteen minutes then everyone will share.” 

Shortly after she finished speaking, pencils began to scribble furiously on their respective notebooks even up to the last minute.

When fifteen minutes passed at last, Fuyuko stood up once again. “Who would like to kick off the sharing of poems?”

Despite the cacophony of writing earlier, the classroom became as still as death. Even to Fuyuko’s gestures, no one stood up to share a poem. Desperate for what to do next, she thought back to Katsura. Perhaps there was wisdom in putting yourself out there first. Putting her script down and reaching for a torn out piece of notebook paper, she began to speak out loud, her voice filling the space as it never had before. 

Once more, forward my friends

We reach towards new horizons

Those we have yet to see

I used to hate travel

The open world,

That which was beyond my reach,

Was my enemy.

Now, now I see

The things that hurt the most

Are simply the best of moments

Hiding and in need of 

Discovery.   

Week Nine, Friday

Never once had Fuyuko heard such a great noise from just one place. The Lam had heard wars before, Japan had experienced numerous over the immense span of its lifetime. Twice it had heard the sun fall onto the earth and, each time, the wailing that had followed. However, it was as if all the war cries, the drums, and gun shots had been shoved into one singular oversized house labelled with the bright blue greek symbols, phi, chi, and pi. It dreaded the idea of a war, even more so that of a fraternity.

Elsa tapped her on the shoulder, snapping Fuyuko out of her trance. “Don’t worry about it, Amami. You’ll have a good time. This is an important part of the bonafide American college experience. Frat parties are also a great way to get to know new people and maybe get a couple of nice guys to take you home.”

Elsa had given her this speech before and, at the time, she had believed it. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Against every survival instinct within her body. Fuyuko allowed herself to get dragged through the doors, past the guest list, and into the party beyond.

As is the case with all great introverts, Fuyuko ended up sitting in a folding chair in the far corner of the living room, a small red cup of golden liquid in her hand. At first, she had lapped up a small amount of the drink before deciding it made her sick. Now, it was simply decoration. Something that Elsa said would make her more approachable. This too was sound advice at the time. But now, as a very drunk track athlete, who exclusively called her ‘big lady’, begged her to pick him up by his ankles and swing him around like a throwing hammer, Fuyuko doubted the perks of being sociable. 

Even so, sitting alone, you tend to hear the strangest conversations. 

At the billiard table just a few feet away, The Lam’s sensitive ears caught a wayward phrase which caught its attention in a choke hold.

“-not like it was really something to be worried about, didn’t you see how it ran?”

“Actually, not really. It was just there then not. I don’t think human has moved that fast before.”

There was the sound of ivory hitting ivory.

“That wasn’t a human, are you stupid? If it was human, we would want to hunt them down, would we?”

“Hmm, I suppose… yeah, makes sense. I guess that's the purpose of your little cryptid shindig.”

“That's damn right, now take your shot you drunk idiot.”

Something about this wayward conversation amused The Lam, something else made it concerned. Now that it had been spotted, it would no longer be able to prowl around at night. It wasn’t too afraid however, if everything went right, it would never have to prowl again. Even so, the thought was sobering.

Up till this point, Fuyuko had experienced a rather mediocre time in this large house. However, her night quickly made a turn around when it came time for beer-pong, the great American game of throwing ping pong balls into the opponent’s cups of beer and, should the ball land true, they will then be forced to drink the contents of the cup. This goes on until either one side’s cups are gone or one side has passed out under the table. At first, Fuyuko found this game a ridiculous display of debauchery. This sensibility was swiftly pushed from its mind as The Lam was challenged by the boy it had met earlier. The Lam, lacking most of the ability to become drunk and better coordination than most humans, especially better than anyone drunk enough to want to be thrown like a hammer, proceeded to miss only one ping pong shot in its first game. Not that it mattered as Liam, the track athlete, slowly lowered his wobbling legs to the floor after four shots. 

Over the next fifteen minutes, Fuyuko remained undefeated in beer-pong and was having the time of her life. For the first time in quite a while, it felt like it was truly enjoying herself.

This win streak became such a phenomenon that the president of the Phi Chi Pi, a tall man called Aaron, decided to step in and challenge her. He had been sober all night and figured he might have some fun and give the foreign exchange student a proper P-C-Pi welcome.

Immediately as he stepped up, she knew this was no normal match up. From the various chanting, she knew that Aaron was the undisputed Phi Chi Pi beer-pong champion. A couple shots in and they were tied at three cups left each. The Lam, despite not getting drunk as easily as humans, was beginning to feel a little tipsy. 

It focussed as hard as it could but every shot was met in kind until only one remained. Fuyuko went to throw the ball but her finger slipped off the ball and she was only there to watch as her win streak was put to sleep under the table. Not that it mattered, Aaron was a great sport and even drank his cup too. He smiled at her, this wide grin and patted her on the back before bestowing upon her a rare P-C-Pi nickname: Bullseye. 

That night, The Lam couldn’t help but think about the name. Funny. It had many human friends but never once did they give it a name other than its own. Was this what having a family felt like? Maybe it was home after all.

Week Ten, Saturday

“That's a twelve yard gain for another first down… MMMMMMAPLEHURST!”

All at once, the whole student section chanted back. “Tow the line, tow the line, go Wolves go, Yah!”

The Lam was never one for sports. They were crude displays of strength which were below it, although it was no stranger to the idea of competition. Many times, it had witnessed the action of Kendo, Japanese fencing with bamboo armor, in cleared out sections of the forest where it once lived. Despite it seeming to be rather gratuitous, humans were almost entranced by it, even going so far as to shout out in sprees of anger and cheer. At the time, it couldn’t understand this spirit which came over them while watching the competitors spar. Now, it understood it a bit better.

“Lets go Wolves! RAAAAAHHHHHH!”

Fuyuko couldn’t remember the last time it had let out a roar with such fervor. Not even when it was hunting did it scream in such a way. Yet, here she was, shouting guttural chants at a simple game of American college football. It was as if something primal in the act of winning, combined with the sheer electricity in the air of the students, had overcome her. With every time she cheered, a couple chains fell away that were holding her back. 

Eventually, there was a time out. It was the second quarter and the Maplehurst Wolves were beating out the University of Montana Griz fourteen to nothing. 

During this time, the cheerleaders came out onto the field to do a routine. A couple flips and tosses later, and they formed a tall pyramid. At the top, Fuyuko could see the face that had dragged her to the game to begin with: Elsa, smiling and proudly waving at the crowd, at Fuyuko. Although the whole stadium cheered, Fuyuko was certain she was the one cheering the loudest. “That’s my roommate! I know her!”

Once the long time out was done, and the marching band was finished with their intricate half time ritual, the game was back on. The Griz scored twice creating a tie. This tie lasted all through the match until the last few minutes of the whole game. A couple yards short of a touch down, the Griz took a field goal, putting them three points ahead of the Wolves. 

It came down to the last minute, the Wolves were halfway down the field. They were on their fourth down, their last chance otherwise the Griz would have the ball and would likely take the game. The stadium held their breath, anticipation creating condensation on the turf. 

A moment passed, and the teams took the field, sweat dripping off their helmets. The quarterback called the shots and the ball was launched into play. He shuffled left and right and left again, eyes scanning for the right moment to strike. When the moment didn’t present itself, he took matters into his own hands. Quickly side stepping an oncoming player, he began to bolt through the muddled crowd, weaving a path from nothing. When he had passed the scramble, he broke into the clear. Trotting down the field, the blur of green and silver fought his way towards victory, the other team in hot pursuit. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was hit from the side launching the ball from his gloved hands. 

As quickly as he was taken down, every player on the field began their mad dash for the discarded ball as it rolled across the field, through a Griz player’s hands, past the feet of several others, and, just when Maplehurst believed all to be lost, there stood a brave beacon of green, hands outstretched with the brown ball in hand. Fleetfooted as a fox, he ducked and dodged through the encroaching armies and, with the grace of a swan dive, he landed squarely in the in-zone for a-

“TOUCH DOWN, MMMMMMAPLEHURST!”

It was as if an entire dam had been released at once. All the tension and eagerness created for itself a roar which shook the whole stadium as the crowd erupted in celebratory cheers. Fuyuko, having forgotten all of her inhibitions, yelled alongside them. 

Over all of her ten weeks at Maplehurst, school spirit had been a far off thing which only the faculty and fliers spoke of. Now, the spirit was within her, and she was finally proud to be a Wolf. She was proud to be where she was. She was proud to be home. Finally, home.

The game came and went, the adrenaline had exhausted its reserves, and everyone shuffled home to the tune of the Maplehurst fight song: ‘Keeping The Colors High’.

When Fuyuko arrived at Sutland Hall, she felt as if she had been worn to the bone. Fumbling with her key, she fell into her room, removing the mask once the door was closed. Elsa wasn’t home yet but that was ok. As a cheerleader, she had things to attend to anyway. 

With a large smile across its face, The Lam collapsed into its chair in the newly opened cave. After sitting in the silence for a while, its eyes wandered to Miki’s crane on its desk and her note upon which it stood. Without a second of hesitation or of other thoughts, it reached over and took the small piece of folded paper. Ginger fingers opened it and it finally began to read its contents.

Never thought I would find someone like you 

Against all odds, you made it

You should be proud

As I know that I am.

Poet, student,

Sister, friend,

Fuyuko, Lam,

Human.

You are so many things

And I know you will be so many more

You shall put down new roots 

Bloom brighter leaves

But, like the humble salmon

Please never forget home

Never forget me.

I love you, Amami!

You will do great things!

Was The Lam crying? It rarely ever cried. It had no idea the last time that it had cried, maybe it was aeons ago. Maybe it never had before but now, now it did. It wasn’t that it was sad, why would it be? The Lam was not quite sure what this feeling was. Relief? Hope? Not that it mattered. What mattered was that it felt good. And that was good enough for The Lam. 

Maplehurst's Fight Song: “Keeping The Colors High”

Keeping the colors high, oh boys

We reach for the victory!

Show the riff raff how its done

And push forward, mighty green!

Keeping the colors high, oh boys

We surely will prevail!

With courage, grit and loyalty

The Wolves will never fail!

メイ�-ルハーストのファイトソング:「�™�'高く保つ」

�™�'高く保って、ああ、み�"な

勝利�'目指す!

チン�"ラどもにやり方�'見せてやれ

そ�-て力強く前�™せよ、�'よ!

�™�'高く保ち、ああ、�'年たちよ

私たちはきっと勝利するだろう!

勇�-、根性、そ�-て忠誠心�'もって

ウルブスは決�-て失�-�-ない!