Chapter 3 After-School Chaos
The school bell rang, echoing through the old wooden building. Students began packing their bags some rushing off to cram schools, others strolling and chatting, typical of teenagers who had just escaped a tedious day of classes.
Ter led his large group of friends toward the school front. His white shirt was untucked, and his school shorts were pulled up high, defying regulations. His broad back and "tough guy" stride made people instinctively clear a path for him.
"Hey, heading to the usual spot? I'm starving," one friend laughed.
"Let's go. I'm hungry too," Ter nodded, cracking his knuckles as if he had excess energy yet to be released.
However... their peace was always short-lived. At a deserted corner at the end of an alley, a rival group stood blocking their way. Their eyes burned with malice, and the air suddenly grew heavy with the scent of an impending clash.
"You're not getting away today, Ter! I'm gonna teach you a lesson you won't forget!" No sooner was the challenge issued than the first punch flew.
The sound of flesh hitting flesh Thud! Smack! mingled with frantic cursing. Ter traded blow for blow with practiced skill. Even while outnumbered, he stood his ground as a shield for his friends.
"Hey! Stop right there! The police are here!" A shout echoed through the alley. The appearance of uniformed officers sent the brawling students scattering in all directions to escape.
"Ouch!"
A startled cry rang out as a slim figure lost his balance. Ter instinctively lunged forward to catch him, and they both tumbled to the ground together. The impact left Ter dazed for a moment, but a familiar scent in his arms made him freeze... that clean, faint fragrance. Only one person he knew smelled like this.
"Get up! You're heavy..." Ter growled softly to hide his racing heart. He tried to maintain a fierce face, but his heart wavered when he saw Tonhom looking up at him with wide, trembling eyes.
"I'm sorry! I... I didn't mean to." Tonhom scrambled to his feet, frantically dusting off his chest and straightening his clothes. But then, his eyes caught the fresh, bleeding wound on Ter's cheekbone.
"Wait... why are there so many bruises? Ter, what happened to you!?" Tonhom stepped forward to block Ter's path, staring intently at the injuries with concern. His voice wasn't soft like it was during tutoring; it was filled with panic and resolve.
Ter quickly turned his head away, his jaw clenched tight. He tried to hide the vulnerability and exhaustion surging in his heart. He didn't want the person in front of him to see him in such a pathetic state.
"Don't bother me..." he snapped, his voice echoing in the narrow alley. He tried to push past, but his prideful back now seemed to tremble slightly from exhaustion and pain.
However, a slender hand one that looked like it had no strength at all grabbed Ter's wrist firmly. The grip was strong enough to bring the tall boy to a dead halt.
"Wait! Let me treat your wounds."
"Let me go! I told you not to bother me, damn it!" Ter roared, pulling back with all his might to break free. But when he looked down to glare at the smaller boy, he was the one who froze. He met Tonhom's narrow eyes, which shone with a stubborn, genuine concern he had never received from anyone before. Ter felt his strength melt away. His defensive walls crumbled because of a single look.
"I won't let go! Not until you let me treat your wounds," Tonhom insisted firmly, his lips pressed into a thin line. He wasn't backing down, no matter how much he was yelled at.
Finally, the leader of the Bottom Class let out a long sigh. His tense shoulders slumped in defeat. He allowed himself to be pulled by the "nerd" to a secluded wooden bench next to a small pharmacy. His thick wrist was still held tight by those slender fingers. Ter watched Tonhom's back, wondering where such a small person got so much strength.
As they sat on the old bench, Tonhom opened a bag of medicine he had just bought. His cool, damp hand gently touched Ter's face. The touch was so soft and tender that Ter involuntarily held his breath.
Tonhom carefully dabbed the blood with a saline-soaked cotton ball. His eyes, behind his glasses, were fixed on the wound with such intensity it felt like his entire world had shrunk down to that single bruise. Ter didn't know how to act; he could only watch Tonhom's focused expression in silence.
"Ow... go easy. That hurts, man," Ter grumbled, his face contorting slightly as the cold cotton hit the raw wound.
Tonhom let out a small smile one Ter had never seen before. It was both gentle and playful.
"When you're out there fighting, you don't seem to complain about the pain at all, do you?"
"Mind your business! You're so annoying!" Ter narrowed his eyes and made a grumpy face, but his reactions were noticeably slower. His fierce face flushed a deep red that spread to his ears, failing to hide his embarrassment.
"I don't want to be annoying... I just feel sorry for you."
The word "sorry" made Ter pause. His eyes flickered as if a raw nerve had been touched. He pressed his lips together before suddenly standing up. The force of his movement made the wooden bench creak, startling Tonhom.
"Don't feel sorry for me. I'm not a little kid," his voice turned cold and hard, as if he were building a wall to protect himself.
Without another word, he turned and walked away. His footsteps were hurried, as if he were running away from a feeling.
He left Tonhom standing there, holding the cotton ball in mid-air, looking at his retreating back with confusion. The surroundings became lonely once again.
Tonhom walked home in silence. The setting sun dyed the sky a deep, melancholic orange. He thought about Ter's eyes... they weren't the eyes of an aggressive person, but of someone who was lost and carrying a heavy burden alone.
He had no idea that while he was walking into his house, the tall boy who had just run away was actually following him from a distance the entire way. Ter stood hidden in the shadows in front of Tonhom's house until he saw the bedroom light turn on. Only then did he quietly turn back toward his own home.
Ter's POV
I hate it when I look this bad... I hate showing that I'm hurt or weak to anyone. In my world, weakness is a sin. If I fall, no one helps me up; they only trample me further. That's why I have to build a tough shell. I have to clench my fists tight, even when my heart is shaking so much I want to cry.
When I bumped into Tonhom, I just didn't want him to see me in this state. I didn't want him to know about this dirty side of my life. But it's strange... why wouldn't that nerd let go of my hand? Even when I yelled at him, even when I was being stubborn, he looked at me with genuine worry not with pity or mockery like everyone else. Does he really feel sorry for me? Or is he just this kind to everyone?
I don't know... but the moment his cool fingers touched my face, the pain strangely faded. Maybe, deep down, I just want someone who sees the real me beneath these scars.
I'm still scared... scared that if I open up, he'll change once he realizes I'm not as cool or strong as everyone thinks.
I don't want to be a burden to anyone. But if having so
meone to treat my wounds feels like this... maybe it's not so bad, right?