Honu grinned, flipping the page of the book with a flick of his wrist. A low, crooked chuckle escaped him. "Hehehe… Sheesh. That's rough, Kevin, man," he muttered, his eyes scanning the next passage with an unreadable mix of fascination and disgust.
From the desk beside him, a voice pierced his focus. A classmate leaned over, eyebrows arched. "Smutt? Seriously, Honu?"
Honu shrugged lazily, tossing the book onto his palm like it weighed nothing. "What? It's what women read. I might… learn something." His grin widened, teasing.
The girl gave a dismissive glance, turning her attention back to her nails. "It's not about what you want to learn, idiot. It's the girlfriend's preferences you should be asking about."
Honu's eyes narrowed. "I don't have one." He leaned back, tilting his head, voice dripping with casual charm. "What about you, Amara? What do you prefer?"
The back row erupted in cheers. "Eyyy! Go get that valentine, man!" The group hooted and hollered like they were at a sports match. Honu gave them a sly wink, but Amara had already turned away, shaking her head with amused irritation.
His confident smile faltered, replaced with a mock pout. "I'm romantic!" he called after her. Amara didn't even look back, just raised her middle finger in perfect, scathing symmetry.
Honu groaned, scowling at his friends. "You guys are impossible. I might've actually gotten an answer if you weren't acting like idiots."
Kevin leaned over, smirking. "Get your ass over here, man. We're heading to billiards after class. You know… the usual chaos."
"Aight, bet." Honu slapped Kevin's fist with a practiced bump, his grin returning.
Ezekiel clapped him on the back with exaggerated force. "That's our virgin boy, always in the game!"
Honu swatted his hand away with a scowl. "Fuck yourself," he muttered, slumping into his seat. Shaking his head, he tossed the smut book aside. "Shit." A sharp exhale, a nervous laugh—he tried to shrug it off.
"Hey," Kevin said, balancing a pencil on his nose, "wanna add booze at billiards later?" He tilted his head, the pencil dropping to the floor. The others responded with approving thumbs-up gestures.
The classroom door swung open as the professor entered, and the lively chatter died down. Time passed sluggishly, punctuated by the scrape of chairs and the occasional cough. Finally, the dismissal bell rang.
Outside, the boys bickered and laughed, nudging each other playfully as they walked toward their usual hangout—a small, private billiards room not far from the academy.
"Usual room, Hans? It isn't occupied, right?" Ezekiel asked as the owner, Hans, leaned lazily against the doorway.
Hans smirked and tossed a key to him. Ezekiel caught it with a bow. "Thank you, your majesty," he quipped, grinning.
Inside, the room smelled faintly of chalk dust and worn leather. Honu dropped his bag with a soft thud in the corner, immediately grabbing his pool stick. "The bet? What's it this time?" He began dusting the tip with chalk.
Kevin popped open a bottle of beer for everyone. "Losers shave their heads bald," he announced. Laughter erupted from the group.
Honu ruffled his hair, groaning. "It took me months to get this perfect hair," he muttered, but he leaned over the table and struck the first ball with precise focus.
Bottles clinked, laughter rang out, and the sound of balls cracking against each other filled the room. Honu barely restrained a groan when he thought he'd lost a round. Ezekiel slapped him on the back. "Drama queen," he teased, laughing.
The friendly chaos came to an abrupt halt when the door swung open. Lucas stumbled in, eyes bloodshot and wild, his gait unsteady.
Kevin frowned. "What's wrong with you?"
Lucas waved them all over, his grin unnerving. "Everyone, gather up."
Reluctantly, the group huddled into a circle. Angelo wrinkled his nose. "Dude… you reek of piss."
Lucas produced a small, white pouch from his pocket and held it aloft. "Take a look at this, baby snow," he said, his voice vibrating with excitement. "I got it for free as a tester. Strong as fuck, works instantly."
Everyone froze. Honu instinctively raised his hands, stepping back. "No, no, no… we don't do snow. Just booze and laughs, man."
Ezekiel extended a hand. "Give it to me, Lucas. We can help you."
Lucas' grin twisted, the glint of a gun catching the dim light. He raised it toward them. "Just a sniff!" he barked. "Come on! You'll love it!"
Kevin's voice was steady as he approached, hands slightly raised. "Put the gun down. There's no need for this."
Lucas clicked off the safety lock. A ripple of tension ran through the group. Honu's throat went dry, eyes darting between the gun and his friends. "Okay… fine… I'll taste it," he said, his voice trembling just slightly.
Lucas' grin widened, victorious.
Honu bent toward the pouch, but with lightning reflexes, he grabbed Lucas' arm and yanked it upward.
BANG!!!
The gun discharged with a deafening bang, the bullet ricocheting off the ceiling. The room erupted in chaos.
They tackled Lucas to the floor, kicking the gun aside. "Someone call for help!" Honu shouted, his chest heaving as adrenaline surged through him.
Hans barreled in, phone already pressed to his ear, shouting into it for emergency services.
Honu wiped sweat from his brow with trembling hands, trying to steady his breathing. And then… he noticed Carlos.
In the corner, near the wall, the man was hunched over, bloodshot eyes glinting, sniffing something from a small bag. Honu's frown deepened. "Hey, Carlos. What are you doing?"
Carlos' head snapped up, an unhinged smile spreading across his face. "What the—"
Before Honu could react, Carlos lunged, scissors clutched in his hand. Honu barely managed to block the first stab, but the metal blade jabbed into his stomach. Pain exploded across his abdomen, hot and sharp.
He crumpled backward, chair toppling as his body hit the floor. The room was a cacophony of screams, shouting, and chaos. His friends moved to restrain Carlos, pulling and grappling with him. Hans barked orders into his phone, panic threading his voice.
Honu could barely breathe, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. He saw blurred shapes—friends' faces, frantic hands, the chaos of bodies moving in the dim, flickering light.
Somewhere, a voice shouted his name. He tried to answer but the world tipped sideways. Pain radiated through him, but… a small smirk curved his lips as his vision tunneled toward the ceiling.
And then darkness claimed him.