Icebox

Clak clak clak clak...

The sound pierced through the still air of a hall in Atma Academy, not
very high in the decible range, but definitely audible in the nocturnal silence.
Its source was behind a pair of doors leading into a huge, warm room bedecked
with various wooden and metal objects. At one end, a slightly chubby green-
tressed form stood. The camera of the mind's eye zoomed in, showing the figure to
be a young man with a knife, his eyes squinting slightly through his spectacles,
intent on his work.

Clak clak clak clak....

The boy didn't turn around when a door creaked open and lantern light
sillhouetted him against the wall. He did, however, cease his task of cutting
something into tiny pieces.

"Who are you? What are you doing in the kitchen?" demanded the newcomer.

"'m Justice Seffaszi," the cutter responded, half-turning and shading his
eyes against the light, "I was just cutting some meat up. Is there some sort of
rule about students preparing food that I haven't heard about?"

The lantern-bearer was not amused. "No, but curfew was a quarter of an
hour ago. I believe this will earn you a demerit, Mr. Seffaszi."

Justice contemplated this turn of events for a moment. "Then I suppose,
as I've already given my punishment, that I can finish the meat and put it in the
icebox, right?"

Without waiting for an answer, he returned to his work.

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