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The burn marks were slowly healing, but the pain still remained as the school tried its very best to retain its pristine, porcelain identity with putting the blame on their esteemed gym instructor.

It's own type of healing.

He couldn't believe the lies that were emblazoned in text, not even dumping his copy into the recycling bin did much to quell the anger, and the boogeymen that refused to admit that something happened. That official ceremony for Red's retirement was a total farce and he was glad to be on bedrest than go and see that nonsense.

It was difficult to understand why they would go to such lengths to mask the truth, and go through a proper mourning for Red. What the boogeymen's true agenda was left him feeling wary of their presence.

But the sudden summon that rang out in his mind felt proper, secretive but proper. And he didn't waste no time in following the directions through the commonly traveled forest toward the figures that shimmered crimson in the dark sky's dim light. Not a word was uttered when he arrived and he decided to hold true to the silence, it was for Red afterall. The material was sleek and comfortable, as he picked it up from the box and donned it and smoothed it out on his form and flicked the hood up and let the front hang low over his face. It was clear that labor went into this, and quite a bit from the amount that was there.

Why did the student body have to do the memorial correctly and in secret? It just didn't seem fair to the dearly departed.

She wasn't sure when the cloaks would come in handy, but it seemed like today was the day - she heard the voice, and it was so obvious what Riley meant, what she wanted to do... So she just followed, heeding the instructions given and walking over to the weeping forest.

The boxes earned a quick look from her before she was given an item from each; they had made sure to make different sizes of cloaks, but she somehow managed to get one that fit her right. Slipping into it, she put on the pin, her fingers trailing along the circumference, before pulling the hood up, making sure that her hair was tucked away from view.

She then left to join the others, glancing around, curious as to who might be who - they were not supposed to speak, but she was sure that there must be a way to identify her friends...

When the voice had beckoned him to the forest for something involving the late teacher, he had not hesitated to follow it. He'd been there when the faculty member fell, been part of those she died to protect. Even though he hadn't known her, she had still protected him and those around him.

There was no way he would miss her true funeral.

He was glad he had not seen the failure of a cover-up that the boogeymen were trying to pull over on them. It would have only shamed their poor teacher more.

He found himself arriving after several others had appeared, noting the red cloaks and quietly moving to pick one up himself. He slipped it on, pulling the hood up over his head and removing himself from in front of the boxes so others could claim one. He noted the chest that was apparently a mourning chest for those who wished to give something to their gym teacher, but he realized he had nothing to give her now. He'd already given her all he had at his disposal previously at her actual skeleton.

He moved off to the side, out of the way so others could mourn, and stood near the edges of the gathering to watch.

Typically he didn't like certain voices in his head, but he had been resting and taking it easy as well. They were all still healing, but for those who had witnessed Red's passing, there was a calling in just having her face brought up. He had not attended her official funeral. It seemed strange to when there was no body and after the twisting words that were going around. He was far too exhausted to get angry and there had already been a funeral at the time when she left them - his pin somewhere in her ashes.

So why would he head the call now?

There was something strange about it, and ever curious, he felt a sense that he had to attend. There had to be a reason for the secretly, the unofficial notice, or the fact that the other funeral had already passed. Was this news about Red's passing? Did they find out something?

He wanted to know.

When he arrived, he slipped on the red garments and followed, looking out for any sign that his friends were near and hiffing the air for their scent.

When a familiar voice trickled into his mind, his first instinct (at the sudden voice invasion) was fear, but one he realized who it was... it was fine. While they had not exactly gotten off to a great start, he did trust the student council president.

Moving towards the forest, alone as demanded, he soon noticed that he was not the only one here... and probably not the only one yet to come. The subject of such a meeting was one he had a hunch that many of them still felt. Mentally the blow was devastating, the loss of a beloved teacher. Physically he knew he was still recovering. Some of the bruises were almost gone, but a few of the nastier ones still plagued him as he walked stiffly towards the boxes.

Reaching within he grabbed a red cloak and quickly pulled it on. Pulling it around him and finally lifting the hood over his head, the boil heaved a heavy sigh. He looked like the rest of them now. Sure some were tall and others short, and some signs of who they were underneath would be apparently no matter how hard they tried, they were all here for the same reason. United under a single color, a color that will forever remind them of someone whom had once made a impact on each of their lives.

Moving closer to those standing, the boil pulled out a piece of the grey skull he had brought back with him. While it was just a part of what he had... he couldn't bring himself to give up all of it. It was a memory he would always have with him, to remember and to haunt. He gave up a larger chunk of the object, only keeping a smaller fragment which he will probably add to his kitsune mask when he decided how he wanted it added. Biting his lip, he set the large piece down next to the others, mentally adding a 'welcome home' as he stepped out of the way.

He approached, limping precariously towards the huddle of fellow students after he'd retrieved his cloak. With it wrapped around him his figure was hardly distinguishable as spikes and spines lifted the fabric here and there spontaneously. It was as if a hedgehog had crawled its way under a red sheet.

This boil had nothing to give Red that he hadn't already and had taken the only thing he could never be able to repay her with and that was her protection. Now, he had nothing. Perhaps the other cloaked figures would provide the 'anonymous' comfort he so desperately needed.

Without a word he approached the circle that leaded to the field outside the gym. Sniffing the cool air he was able to hold aside his shivers from the cold as this ceremony numbed him over itself. How would it all turn out? What were they going to do? There weren't any staff members here right? Surely not. If anything the boil had his eye out for any boogeyfeet. This would be a challenge to say the least.