Chapter 149
SORRY
Back in the middle of the protest, the chaos IAM had left behind still lingered like a bad aftertaste in the air.
The six bullies stood frozen, their expressions a mixture of frustration, confusion, and disbelief.
Their eyes darted around the dispersing crowd, trying to make sense of what had just happened. None of them spoke for a moment, still processing how the situation had turned on its head.
"Quick—we've got to get out of here," one of them finally muttered, voice low and urgent.
Another nodded, scanning the dispersing protest crowd. "Grab the others. Meet up with the rest. Now."
They moved without hesitation, weaving through the bystanders who instinctively stepped back, some still frozen in disbelief, others already with their phones out. The crowd, which had moments ago been a mass of protest and purpose, now shifted uneasily, parting to let the six pass through.
One of the bullies leaned in close, whispering with a scowl, "We better get paid more for this... Even with those guys interfering, somehow that actually helped us."
"Just shut up and move," another hissed, clearly on edge. "Unless you're volunteering to deal with the cops when they get here."
"Alright, alright—jeez. Why are you so crabby?"
They didn't answer. Tension rippled between them like the echo of thunder in the sky. They moved faster now, half-carrying their two friends.
Back in the thick of the crowd, the first pictures and videos were being posted online.
...
It was raining heavily now.
The sky had split open, releasing great drops that hammered the earth below—each one falling like a judgement from above. The clouds, thick and bruised with darkness, snarled with thunder, ripping through the sky's with deafening force. Lightning painted cracks across the sky like broken glass.
The world had turned grey.
People fled beneath, umbrellas bloomed like desperate flowers, and doors slammed shut as they retreated into shelter—into dry, protected corners where the storm could only be heard.
But out in the open, lying motionless on the drenched grass, was a boy.
His body sprawled limp against the soaked earth. Were it not for the faint, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, one might have mistaken him for a lifeless thing.
There was no struggle in him.
He let the water wash over his face, into his mouth, through his hair, soaking deep into his bones. As if he believed, foolishly or cruelly, that the rain could erase what had just happened.
Or maybe he didn't believe in anything at all.
The sky screamed above him, and he remained still.
The thunder begged to be noticed, but he had nothing to offer it.
And if the storm was the price he had to pay to feel clean again...
Then let it rain.
...
Henry sat on the middle bed, his shoulders hunched and rigid, his was l jaw clenched. His eyes kept darting toward the door, then falling again to the floor. Over and over. Each time his gaze returned to the ground, it was as if he were bracing for impact. The silence in the room felt like it was stretching around his neck.
Reuel was sprawled across IAM's bed, but he wasn't resting. His eyes fixed on the ceiling like he was waiting for answers to be written across it. His gaze was unfocused.
Yohan stood silently by the door, chewing on his tongue. His arms were crossed, but his fingers tapped anxiously against his bicep. The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on.
"Do you think they got him?" Reuel asked suddenly, his voice flat.
Several long seconds passed—seconds that felt like hours—before Henry suddenly shot to his feet. His movement was abrupt. "I have to find him," he said, voice cracking just slightly. "This is all my fault."
Yohan looked up just in time to see Henry reach for the door. But before his fingers could touch the handle, it swung open on its own.
The room froze.
Henry stumbled back a step. Yohan flinched so hard he bit his tongue, his eyes going wide. Reuel bolted upright, his spine snapping straight like a struck chord.
There, framed in the doorway, stood IAM.
Soaked to the bone. Water poured off his clothes, dripping in heavy, rhythmic splats onto the floor. His hoodie was dark with rain, sticking to his frame.
His expression was unreadable.
"Y-you're back!!" Reuel choked out, his voice breaking with relief. He lurched forward, arms outstretched to hug IAM—but IAM stepped aside, letting him pass like a breeze.
Henry took a cautious step forward, the worry on his face raw now. "Are you okay? What happened to you? Why did you take so long? Where did you—?"
IAM cut him off without a word—just a tired wave of the hand. "Let me clean up first," he said dully. "I feel disgusting."
He didn't wait for permission. He trudged toward the bathroom, leaving a small trail of water behind him like evidence of a storm that had passed through.
Henry made to follow him, half-reaching forward—but before he could take another step, a hand gripped his shoulder firmly.
Yohan.
He shook his head silently.
Henry hesitated, then slowly lowered his arm. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and sat back down heavily on the bed.
Twenty minutes passed.
The bathroom door creaked open, and steam rolled out into the dorm room like a ghost escaping a cage. IAM stepped out slowly, now wearing a plain vest and a pair of thin shorts that clung to his legs from the dampness still lingering on his skin.
He didn't say a word.
He trudged forward in silence, dragging his tired body across the floor. The sound of his bare feet sticking slightly with every step.
Without any ceremony, IAM reached his bed, glanced at Reuel sprawled across it, and simply shoved him off without saying a word.
"Ow—!?" Reuel yelped, falling with a thud to the side, his voice muffled slightly as he landed in a tangle of limbs and surprise. But IAM had already laid himself flat on the mattress, arms sprawled out as he stared blankly at the ceiling, eyes half-closed with exhaustion.
Henry stood up.
As he looked at IAM for a bit.
Then...
His right hand—subtle at first—began to tremble. Just a twitch. But then it worsened. It shook violently at his side like something was trying to escape from under his skin.
Reuel blinked from the floor, rubbing his elbow. "Uhhh… are you okay?" he asked, eyes narrowing as he caught the odd motion.
Henry didn't respond at first. His breathing shortened, small gasps escaping his lips like he was fighting against his own chest. He looked down at his hand as though it were betraying him.
Then, with effort, he reached across his body and grabbed his shaking right hand with his left, gripping it tightly and stuffing it deep into his pocket. His other hand balled into a trembling fist as he closed his eyes.
He took three deep breaths and opened his eyes again.
"Sorry about that…" he murmured. "I… I… never mind."
His voice cracked on the last two words.
IAM tilted his head slightly, eyes still trained on the ceiling, unmoved.
Henry took a hesitant step forward, then another, and then—finally—he spoke again. This time with his full voice.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice tight, like the words hurt coming out. "I was being selfish back there. I was stuck in my own head, so wrapped up in my pride, in my ego… I ignored what you had to say. I pushed your opinion aside, and in the end, you helped anyway—even though you didn't have to."
The room was quiet.
Henry kept going, his voice breaking slightly. "Not just you. I dragged the others into it too. Reuel. Yohan. I messed up. I take full responsibility for that."
He lowered his head.
He bowed—deeply. Reuel and Yohan blinked in surprise. Neither of them had expected that from Henry.
Then Henry turned around, without hesitation, and bowed to them too. First to Yohan. Then to Reuel.
"I'm sorry," he said again, his voice quieter this time. "Truly."
And then he turned back to IAM, who still hadn't moved. Still hadn't said a word.
"I know I can't undo any of it," Henry continued, now sounding awkward and unsure. "But I will teach you—swordsmanship. I'll give you my best. And I know that's still not enough, so… I just want you to know I owe you. I really do. And I… I'm sorry. I really am."
IAM let the silence sit.
He was thinking.
He couldn't help but reflect on just how bizarre this all was. In only a handful of days since entering the academy, he had been apologized to three separate times—by three entirely different people. Yohan. Reuel. And now Henry.
What was this, a pattern?
A strange thought crossed his mind, and he almost chuckled. He hoped this didn't become a trend.
He let out a slow breath and finally spoke.
"You know," IAM said, "when people do something for someone—go out of their way, even risk getting hurt in the process—the last thing they want to hear is 'I'm sorry.'"
Henry blinked.
"They want to know it was worth it. That what they did mattered. So instead of saying 'I'm sorry'..." IAM turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting Henry's. "You should say… 'Thank you.'"
Henry's mouth parted slightly, the shine in his eyes growing. He looked like he was fighting to keep tears from spilling out.
He lowered his head again, trembling.
"Thank you," he whispered. Then louder: "Thank you… truly."
IAM watched Henry bow his head and for a moment, he wondered why the boy was being so dramatic. His right hand trembled ever so slightly, and IAM's mind instinctively traced the motion—but he quickly pushed the thought aside.
It would be insensitive of him to try and pry.
From the corner of the room, Reuel muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. "Why… didn't I get this when I said sorry?"
IAM's gaze snapped toward him, eyes narrowing sharply as if to pierce through the other boy. "You…" he started, the words cutting into the quiet, only to catch himself in time.
"Never mind… I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed."
Without another word, he turned his back on the group, the exhaustion in his movements dragging him down.
IAM closed his eyes, letting sleep grab him and pull him into its arms, unaware of the surprise that awaited him tomorrow.