Jarin was partially correct when he said that the rumors about Mr. Zitrind's death would pass. Before even a week had passed since the death of David Zitrind, the school had all but forgotten the event's association with Operation Anarchy. The anxiety felt through the school, however, didn't cease. Quite to the contrary, interest in the cause of death increased.

The official report was that he was, in fact, murdered, and that they knew the cause of death was his mysterious lack of a nervous system, but it was a complete dead end. Anti-vandalism cameras in the hallway saw nothing, and nobody could figure out why anyone would want to kill David Zitrind.

Students found this very intriguing. It was a mystery, existing right within the walls of their own school. Though few of the teachers knew of it (and if they did, it wasn't mentioned), small groups of students had formed together to conduct investigations of their own. Operation Anarchy was not one of them.

"It's really disgusting," Mia had said one day at lunch, raising her voice just loud enough so that the group of freshmen seated behind her were thrown from their trains of thought and their discussion of a conspiracy theory involving Mr. Zitrind and a newly invented local mafia. "People just don't respect that the man is dead." She put a sharp emphasis on the last word, causing one of the younger kids behind her to cringe. "Really, you'd think people could at least not accuse the poor man of working with the 'town mafia'."

"Apparently not," added Sarnrei, turning to shoot a cold glare at the now ashamed looking group of freshmen. "But of course we all know about the mafia guys, right?" Jarin and Chris played along, nodding and making small grunts of approval. "Yes, everyone knows how so many of the teachers are secretly super evil crime overlords who have gang fights through the streets at night." His tone grew more and more rife with sarcasm.

"Hey, knock it off. It's just an idea," said one of the freshmen who had turned around, giving Sarnrei his best glare, which was almost comical to watch. Sarnrei was of a huskier build than most people.

"Show a bit of respect," he spat.

"What?"

"I don't think I stuttered." Sarnrei's glare at the kid seated behind Mia was piercing, and the kid's friends had long since turned away. Even Mia had made no attempt to calm her boyfriend. Chris' and Trevor's gazes remained fixed on the kid, and Jarin's bounced between Sarnrei, the freshman and Mia, the tense silence filling both groups and almost quieting the conversations happening around them.

Finally, the freshman returned to his food, and Sarnrei, without another word, turned back to his in like fashion. Only then did Mia loop her arm through his, not for calm but for thanks.

That would not be the end of it, however. In fact, if anything, the obsession grew around them to the point where it might as well have been that Operation Anarchy were the only people in the entire school who had the slightest bit of respect for the deceased man they didn't even like.

Theories on Mr. Zitrind's death varied in certainty, believability and credibility, ranging from organized crime to a disgruntled mistress to suicide from grief over the child nobody had ever heard of.

Though none of them cared much for it, Chris was the one who felt the most resentment every time he heard another student mention their deceased network administrator. Jarin, interestingly enough, had found himself oddly silent during the conversations that he and his friends had about the disrespect displaid by the rest of the school. The fact is, he was curious too. What on earth could the network administrator for the school district of a small town possibly do that would provoke a murder?

So he began to dig. The most obvious place to start, of course, would be the computer at which he was killed - the workstation in his classroom. Alone, in the corner of the library during the history class he was supposed to be using for research, he worked at the network which, after 20 minutes and one prompting from his history teacher to do some actual research, yielded access to Mr. Zitrind's files. At first glance, nothing popped out at him. His luck didn't change the second time over, either. Nor the third. In fact, absolutely nothing was unexpected. Grades, lessons, college theses, emails and attendance spreadsheets were all that was found.

Discouraged, but no less curious, Jarin closed the connection.

The class ended abruptly. He'd zoned out working on the network, and found himself with disappointingly little research done for the draft of the essay that was due the next day, but that wasn't of concern to him, as he'd long since convinced himself that the unfortunate lack of effort he put toward his schooling was perfectly acceptable.

Outside the library, Jarin was met with an odd sight: Chris and a girl from his dance class, Sam Strauss, were waltzing silently in the otherwise empty hall. Jarin paused to watch for a moment, smirking. Sam's eyes were closed, and she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself, but Chris' gaze was fixated on her. His smile warm and content, the two of them glided gracefully across the tile floor, stepping in time with Chris' quiet humming.

Jarin cleared his throat.

"Oh! Hi." Sam had jumped, letting go of Chris, whose thoughts and fantasies came crashing down around him as she, looking entirely embarrassed to have been caught acting so foolish, glanced around for an escape route.

"Sorry," Jarin replied, more to Chris than to Sam.

"I should..." Sam paused. "My stuff is still in the room, and I'm meeting Borad for lunch." The hall behind the library, despite the between-class shuffle, was still otherwise empty. It must have been obvious to Jarin, who continued to stand looking awkwardly between Sam and Chris, why they'd been here.

"Yeah," agreed Chris, a note of dejection in his voice as he shot an annoyed glance toward Jarin, who merely made an apologetic face once Sam had turned to leave. "I'll come with you." She seemed indifferent to this notion, and for the fleeting moment that Jarin spotted Mia and Sarnrei pass the end of the hall in which he stood, he understood precisely how Chris felt.