Path of the Extra

It was the second day of the festival.

This time, the school doors were open to everyone who wasn’t a student—as long as they had a ticket.

“Gahh! You! What is wrong with you?! I’m your classmate! You aren’t supposed to scare me!!”

At one of the gyms, the haunted house had drawn a crowd. And right outside its entrance, an even more entertaining spectacle was unfolding—one that wasn’t part of the attraction at all.

A boy dressed as a zombie sat on the floor, his costume impressively detailed: old, torn clothes stained with fake blood, grey contact lenses that made his eyes look dead, and realistic-looking wounds across his face—bite marks and gashes painted on with care.

It would’ve been a truly cool outfit…

…if that same zombie boy weren’t currently crying.

He looked up from the ground, weeping, at a clown standing over him.

And that clown was downright terrifying. The mask locked into a wide, split smile that made it look like the face had been torn open. It didn’t help that this was one of the few gyms hosting activities with explicit warnings—kids under twelve weren’t allowed inside without adult supervision.

“P-please… go… go away…!”

The funniest part was that the zombie boy wasn’t scared of the haunted house. He was part of the class that built it.

No—he was shaking because the clown had snuck up behind him the moment he stepped out for a break, and then jump-scared him at point-blank range.

Instead of helping, the people around them watched with amused faces—some even recording with their phones.

Dave looked like he was about to piss himself as he stared up at Leo in the clown costume. If there was one thing Dave was genuinely terrified of, it was clowns.

Nathan knew that.

And Dave—who bullied Nathan whenever he got the chance—had unknowingly handed him the perfect opportunity. Like some mastermind, Nathan had anticipated this exact scenario and set it up carefully.

So now that Leo was seeing the payoff…

He wasn’t annoyed at Nathan anymore for choosing the costume for him.

It was absolutely worth it.

“C-come on!” Dave sobbed, forcing out words through shaking breaths. “At least say something! I-I know it’s you under there, Leo! Y-you won’t scare me!”

Despite the pathetic attempt at bravado—one nobody believed—Leo stayed silent.

Why would he need his voice to be creepy when his presence alone was enough?

Still… the cruelty of it all was hard to ignore. Kids and adults alike stood by, entertained, while Dave broke down.

Tears streamed down Dave’s face. He scrambled to his feet and ran—only to trip and slam his face into the floor once… then twice… before finally managing to stumble out of the gym.

A classmate approached Leo, grinning like he’d just watched the best scene of the day.

“It’s hilarious how long he avoided you the moment you showed up in the clown costume, but you couldn’t hold yourself back, huh?” he said, laughing. “I mean—damn. You haven’t said a word all day, and you still scared so many people just by standing there.”

Then he continued, practical again.

“Anyway, good work. We’re basically done for now. It’s lunch, but after that we’ve got the sports festival. Our class is participating in the hundred-meter sprint, so make sure you watch us, alright?”

Leo stared at him through the mask and nodded slowly.

After a brief hesitation, Leo spoke—his voice quiet and muffled through the costume.

“…Good work.”

The boy blinked, surprised, then smiled like he’d just been rewarded and returned the words before heading off.

With no reason to stay there, Leo left the gym as well.

The hallways were packed: students, parents, and families moving from activity to activity, laughing and talking over each other. The whole school felt loud, crowded, alive.

Leo wanted none of it.

He headed toward the stairwell, planning to go up to the roof and eat the lunch he’d bought in peace.

But as he reached the stairs and started to move, a familiar voice stopped him immediately.

“Mom! We’re too late!”

“It’s alright,” another voice replied. “I’m sure we’ll—”

Leo took a few steps back and glanced down.

Coming up the stairs—threading through the crowd of students and adults—were his mother and his little sister.

Leo hadn’t seen his mother in two days because of her work. And Lia… he’d barely seen her either, with her being outside when he got home and him retreating straight to his room afterward.

“Mom! Look—a clown!” Lia gasped, eyes shining. “So cool!”

She spotted him first.

And she didn’t recognize him.

Of course she didn’t, Leo thought. They’d have no way of knowing he was the one behind the mask.

Or so he assumed.

Because when they got closer, his mother’s brows rose.

“Leo?”

A faint awkwardness settled in his chest.

He lifted his hands and removed the mask, revealing his face.

Lia’s jaw dropped in a way that was cute—stunned that her older brother had been hiding under something that was, in her eyes, more “cool” than creepy. At least she had more backbone than Dave.

Leo’s gaze lingered on his mother for a few seconds longer than necessary before he finally spoke, tentative.

“…I didn’t think you would come.”

Obviously, she should have been at work. And Leo had held no hope of his family coming to the end-of-year festival. Yet instead of feeling happy, he only felt uneasy—disturbed, even—by the coldness lurking behind eyes that looked uncomfortably similar to his own.

Whatever she wanted to say, she wanted to say it privately. Jeanne’s gaze shifted toward Lia, who was practically glowing as she scanned Leo’s costume from head to toe.

“Lia,” Jeanne said, calm but firm, “I need to speak with your brother for a moment. Why don’t you look around, but don’t go farther than this hallway, alright?”

Lia blinked up at her, confused for half a second—then the idea of being allowed her own little adventure lit her up again. She nodded quickly.

“Okay!” she chirped, and then she ran off.

Leo watched her go. His mother watched her too, a worried gentleness in her expression—soft, protective.

For a moment, something dark flickered behind Leo’s eyes.

Then he swallowed it down.

“Follow me,” Jeanne said casually.

Leo obeyed, walking beside her as they headed in the opposite direction from Lia. They passed classrooms with open doors, teachers hovering near stalls, students calling out to each other over music and laughter. The festival noise followed them like a curtain, thinning as they moved farther away.

Jeanne looked him up and down, her attention landing on the costume.

“Why the clown outfit?” she asked. “Is your class doing a circus?”

There was a faint edge to it—something that sounded too close to ridicule. Leo’s eyebrows drew together, only slightly, before he forced his face smooth.

“A haunted house,” he said. “Though it’s not like I was able to help much. I’ve been busy as the captain of the festival committee.”

As he said that last part, he glanced at his mother with the smallest glimmer of hope—like the title might mean something.

But Jeanne only kept scanning the surroundings, eyes drifting over posters, props, the decorated doorframes.

The spark died almost immediately.

’Did I do something wrong…?’

Leo couldn’t understand why she was so cold today.

Of course, when it came to Lia, he couldn’t compete. He knew that—he’d learned it eventually. But that didn’t mean she had to look at him like this.

There was affection for him. It just wasn’t visible when compared to Lia.

And then he looked into her eyes again and felt sick.

The way she looked at Lia, and the way she looked at Leo, were worlds apart.

Lia—her lovely daughter, bright and open, so effortlessly human.

And then Leo—

It made him nauseous, the way Jeanne’s gaze seemed to catch on him like she was seeing something else.

Like a—

Like a monster.

“Mother,” Leo said at last, forcing the word out. “Is something wrong?”

Jeanne stopped. Leo stopped too.

They’d reached the corner of a hallway, a quieter stretch with no classrooms ahead. Hardly anyone came this way.

Leo stared at her, waiting.

Jeanne met his eyes without flinching. With no one around to perform for, the coldness sat on her face more openly.

Then, suddenly, she lifted a hand and pressed her palm gently against his cheek.

Leo froze.

Her touch was warm, and the coldness in her eyes softened—just a little—but anxiety crept in its place, as if she were holding something back.

“Have you eaten?” she asked softly, worry threaded beneath her voice.

“…I was going to,” Leo said. “Before I saw you two.”

“I see.” Jeanne’s thumb moved slightly against his skin, absentminded. “Then we got lucky. We planned to come earlier, but we were too late.”

It was a lucky coincidence—meeting on the stairs like that.

But Leo still didn’t understand why they were here, or why she looked so anxious.

“I didn’t think much of it,” she said, “but it seems you’ve taken more interest in this school festival than I expected.”

Something about her tone made Leo’s chest tighten.

Angry. She was angry.

“I… I guess.” Leo swallowed. Seeing that look on her face made him want to explain—made him feel like he had to. “I don’t know. I just… wanted to be more involved, I think. Everyone kept saying this is the last time they’ll be in middle school, and they wanted to make this final Chapter… fun.”

“At the expense of cutting back your piano lessons,” Jeanne said immediately, “and everything else that’s actually important?”

The coldness in her voice made him flinch.

Her hand left his face.

In its place, she gripped his wrist—tight, possessive, like she was refusing to let go.

“Kaya offered to tutor you this week despite the festival,” Jeanne continued. “You refused. And I know you haven’t been practicing much.” Her eyes narrowed. “Barely at all, last week and this week. Sarah told me she spotted you with that girl—what was her name? Right. Lea. The two of you went out shopping.”

Leo’s throat went dry.

“That—that was for the festival,” he said quickly. “We needed extra costumes because—”

“So?” Jeanne cut him off, her expression hard, uninterested in his explanation. “I don’t care whether you went outside with someone, or whether you needed something for a festival. I care that you’re wasting your time on needless things.”

“But—”

“Enough.”

Her voice rose just slightly, but it snapped like a thin branch.

“Get it through your head, Leo. You are not supposed to spend your time on worthless festivals or childish fun. Your world and theirs are the difference between hell and heaven.”

Leo stared at her, eyes wide.

“No, it’s—”

“I have let you throw your harmless tantrums and pranks over the years,” Jeanne said, her grip never loosening, “because I believed they didn’t affect your performance. But it seems all it did was make you think you could push further. Try worse things.”

“That’s not what I do—”

“I will allow you to spend the rest of this week on this festival,” Jeanne said, “but after that, during vacation, you’ll go to Kaya’s house every day to practice. You need to make up for all the time you’ve wasted on—”

“IT’S NOT A WASTE!”

The words tore out of him.

Loud enough that anyone passing by turned to look.

For a second, Jeanne’s face flashed with shock. Leo felt it too—his own outburst hitting him like a slap. A hot, horrible awareness of what he’d just done.

No one said anything. A couple of students stared, then quickly looked away and hurried on, pretending they hadn’t seen.

Leo’s mouth moved, useless.

“No— I meant… I-I—”

He didn’t even get the words out before pain detonated in his wrist.

“Ugh—!”

Leo looked down.

His mother’s nails were digging into his skin.

Blood seeped out in thin lines, bright against the pale skin of his wrist, as he dropped the clown mask.

Jeanne’s eyes hardened again.

“What is the meaning of this?” Jeanne demanded, voice trembling with indignation. “Even when I’m being so generous toward you, why are you shouting at me as if I’m in the wrong?”

“Agh—m-mom, it hurts,” Leo whispered. “P-please—”

The pressure increased. He felt skin tear. He panicked.

He clamped his other hand over his mouth, forcing the sound back down before it could become a real scream.

He couldn’t risk a scream. He couldn’t risk attention.

If anyone saw this clearly, it wouldn’t end well.

And there it was again—plain on her face.

That anxious look.

She stared at him with it now, as if she were terrified of something… yet entirely unaware of the pain she was causing him.

“Why can’t you understand?” Jeanne whispered, voice urgent, pleading. “I’m saying all of this for your own good, Leo. I only want what’s best for you. No one here wants to see you succeed except me.”

Her words blurred behind the ringing in Leo’s ears.

“You can delude yourself as much as you want,” she continued, “but you will always be different from the others. Even if you think they’ll be your friends, they’ll only hurt you in the end. But as long as you listen to me, you won’t be alone, and—”

He couldn’t hear any more.

The ringing drowned her out.

He felt sick—sick from the pain, sick from her anxious expression, sick from the way her eyes could look so kind while still failing to see him.

Those eyes couldn’t see him for who he was.

Leo swallowed hard.

’It hurts…’

Leo hated pain. Always had. Even a small cut—he couldn’t stand it. He needed it gone immediately, like it was poison under his skin. Now the ache was deep and raw, making his stomach churn.

Jeanne lifted her free hand and touched his face again, gentle—while still crushing his wrist like it didn’t matter.

Didn’t she notice?

Why wouldn’t she let go?

Leo slowly lowered his hand from his mouth, breathing shallowly through the nausea, and carefully—quietly—tried to pry her fingers off his wrist.

“Just know this,” Jeanne whispered.

“I’m your family, okay? You won’t belong anywhere else. No one can accept someone like you.”

Ah.

Right.

He knew that.

She’d drilled those words into his mind enough times for them to feel like his own thoughts.

Finally, he managed to peel her grip away. It hurt as the pressure released, the skin stinging where it had torn, but at least the crushing stopped.

Jeanne’s expression smoothed out like nothing had happened.

“I’m going to get food with Lia,” she said, calm again, smiling like a normal mother. “Will you join us?”

“N-no,” Leo said in a small voice. He held his wrist, trying to cover the wound and stop the bleeding.

Jeanne didn’t look at it. Not once. Either she didn’t see it, or she chose not to.

Leo’s face felt pale and far away. His head swam—lightheaded, feverish, like his body was trying to leave him behind.

“I see.” Jeanne’s voice stayed gentle. “Make sure you eat something, alright? I heard your class will be participating in the sports festival. Will you be as well?”

“…N-no,” Leo said again, without thinking.

“Alright.” Jeanne nodded as if that settled everything. “Then come spend some time with your family later, if you can. We’ll probably be here until the end. I took a day off from work for you.”

Leo didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Jeanne leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

“I love you,” she said, and then she turned and walked away.

Leo stood there, staring at her back with a dull, lifeless gaze.

…He didn’t feel like having lunch anymore.