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GAZE Volume 1: Part 1
CHAPTER 16: Another camp day

CHAPTER 16: Another camp day

The sun barely broke through the thick canopy, casting dim slivers of light over the campsite. A shrill alarm tore through the silence, signaling the start of another grueling day. The Achievers were the first to respond. They headed to the bathrooms without needing to be told. Some eager to score points, had even begun helping the teachers with breakfast prep.

In contrast, the Mavericks dragged their feet. Those already awake were scattered around, some nursed half-eaten bowls of cereal and chatting while others still lay buried in their sleeping bags, barely stirred by the chaos around them.

Axka, with a few Mavericks who had managed to get up, sat cross-legged with his friends, spooning cereal into his mouth with little enthusiasm. “Where’s Mr. Caden? Off doing his own thing again?” someone muttered, glancing around.

Another boy, peering over his cereal, shrugged. “Now that you mention it, he’s nowhere to be seen.” His voice stirred a mild curiosity among the group, but no one cared enough to pursue it. Axka scanned his surroundings, searching for his mentor.

Maybe he’s going to hospital for his medicine again…

From a distance, Mr. Lawson observed the Mavericks with a growing sense of dissatisfaction. He couldn’t wait for the officers to arrive, as their 'discipline guide' was sorely needed for this group.

By now, the Achievers had finished their breakfast and were ready for the morning activities. Ms. Lyra approached the Mavericks, her voice stern yet gentle. “Everyone, please make haste. We’re about to start the morning activity!”

Kazimir, always quick with a retort, looked up with a grin. “I guess we need to finish our breakfast first, Ms. Lyra, right boys?” A chorus of “yeah!” erupted from the Mavericks.

Mr. Lawson stepped forward, his impatience evident. “It’s fine. We’ll continue the activity with the Achievers. They’ve been waiting long enough.” Just then, the officers arrived, and Mr. Lawson wasted no time greeting them.

Seeing the officers, some of the Mavericks finally started to move. “Hey, it’s them. Let’s take our cue now,” one boy said, prompting a slow, reluctant shuffle towards the bathrooms. Axka and his friends stood up, ready to follow suit.

While the Mavericks moved out, Axka was getting ready with his stuff. “You guys got any toothpaste?” he asked, rummaging through his things and realizing he had forgotten to pack the most basic of necessities.

“Aime's got extra,” Smitty came out from his tent, towel on his shoulder.

Axka turned to Aime, who was always prepared. “Thanks, rich boy,” he teased with a smirk.

Before Aime could respond, the air seemed to shift. A deathly silence swept over the camp. The familiar dread crept up their spines just as a booming roar tore through the stillness.

“MAGGOTS! GATHER AT THE ASSEMBLY NOW!”

Officer Schmidt’s voice crashed through the camp, sharp and cold, cutting through the silence like a blade. Every head snapped up, hearts pounding in unison. The birds in the trees scattered at the noise, their wings flapping desperately away from the chaos.

“Ah, damn,” Aime muttered under his breath, his irritation almost drowned out by the officer’s roar. “What’s it gonna be this time, man?”

“I’M COUNTING TO TEN!” Schmidt’s voice boomed again. “IF YOU’RE NOT HERE BY THEN, THE ‘GUIDANCE’ WILL BE HARSHER!” He started counting, and all Mavericks broke into a chaotic run toward the assembly area.

When they arrived, some guys were already doubled over, trying to catch their breath. Officer Schmidt glared at them. “DO YOU KNOW WHY I CALLED YOU MAGGOTS HERE?! IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE ALL WORTHLESS AND CAN’T MANAGE SIMPLE THINGS!”

He paused for effect before continuing, “I’ll give you time to take a bath! NOW GO!”

The moment the words left his mouth, they all sprinted toward the bathrooms. Axka pushed himself to run faster, but the more athletic guys quickly overtook him, claiming the bathrooms first.

Axka was one of the first in line outside the bathroom, followed closely by the others. Inside one of the stalls, one of the runners that had outrun him was humming a carefree tune, the sound echoing lazily from the bathroom. Axka rapped his knuckles against the door, a sharp burst of frustration slipping through. “Hurry up, man!”

“Chill, dude. Just wait your turn,” came the voice from behind the door, still relaxed and followed by more off-key singing. Axka tapping his foot impatiently.

Kazimir stood beside him waiting for the stall next to Axka's, leaned over with a grin. “Relax, Ax. We’re just supposed to wash up—no rush.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Axka muttered, unable to hide his irritation. He wanted to push them to hurry, but Kazimir’s casual tone gnawed at his frustration, softening the mood. Kazimir nudged him playfully. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

Axka huffed, his annoyance ebbing. “I don’t know, maybe another torture?”

It had only been a few minutes, Officer Schmidt’s booming voice cut through the air again.

“ONE...”

Axka’s eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. “What the fuck?” he muttered, glancing around, suddenly aware that time wasn’t on their side anymore.

“TWO...” Schmidt's voice boomed, cutting through the camp like a gunshot.

Kazimir’s playful smirk vanished. “You fucking jinxed it, man,” he whispered, his face draining of all humor. “It’s time again. Fuck, let’s go!”

Without another word, he dashed toward the assembly area, and the rest of the Mavericks scrambled to follow, abandoning their place in line as urgency overtook them.

They cut through the camp, feet pounding the dirt. Some of the slower boys tried a shortcut through the tents, but before they knew it, one tripped. It was like watching dominos in slow motion—one boy hit the ground, his arms flailing, while the others followed suit in a tangle of limbs and curses. Aime’s laughter was uncontrollable, even as he gasped for air, “Oh, shit!”

“Fuck they were doing!?” Aime gasped between breaths, his laughter breaking through despite the situation. Takoda doubled over, still running, his laugh turning into a desperate wheeze as he clutched his side. “Oh, man!” he managed to choke out before the air left his lungs, the urgency snapping them back to their pace.

The sight of the fallen Mavericks was ridiculous, but there was no time to help or even appreciate the humor. They had to get back to the assembly—fast.

Axka arrived at the assembly just in time, with the rest of the Mavericks trailing behind him. Soon, even the stragglers who had been in the bathroom came running, towels wrapped around their waists, shampoo still foaming in their hair.

Axka and his friends tried to stifle their laughter, their faces turned downward to hide their grins. Across the way, some Achievers were also laughing, while Mr. Lawson merely smirked, his expression clearly saying, “They deserve it.”

Those who didn’t make it in time catching on their breath, muscles trembling under the weight of exhaustion. “Push-ups, now!” Officer Schmidt barked, his voice devoid of sympathy.

The boys dropped down without hesitation, legs already burning from the sprint. Sweat poured off their faces. But the officers watched with cold, unblinking eyes, daring them to stop.

A few minutes passed, Schmidt glanced over at Mr. Lawson, who gave a signal by nodding. “All right, you maggots! Right now, I want you to join your teachers for the next activity,” Officer Schmidt barked, finally allowing the Mavericks including the latecomers to rise from their push-ups. Some of them whispered, “Dude, I still smell like shit, and he wants us to do another activity again.”

The Mavericks moved to join the rest of the campers near the iron fence on the other side of the road, barely catching their breath after the punishment. Mr. Lawson's voice cut through the chatter, dry as ever: “Pair with your tent-mate. Each of you will build trust by doing a trust fall.”

Takoda glanced at Axka, exchanging a quick smirk. “Trust fall? Easy,” he muttered. They had been through worst together; this wasn’t going to break them.

Without hesitation, Axka leaned back and Takoda caught him effortlessly. They moved through the motions, their exhaustion simmering beneath the surface, but it wasn’t enough to slow them down. The officers watched, clearly unimpressed, but the Mavericks didn’t care. The sooner this ended, the better.

The activity wrapped up quickly. By the time Mrs. Lyra called for lunch, the Mavericks were already thinking ahead to lunch. Their limbs were heavy with exhaustion, but the promise of food kept them moving.

“Finally, time to eat,” Takoda muttered, stretching his sore arms. Axka nodded in agreement, already heading toward the food area, his mind on one thing—hope it’s not getting worse.

***

After lunch, some of the Mavericks began finding excuses to slip away to the back of the bathroom, one after another, including Axka and Takoda. Mr. Lawson aware of this routine, had already reported the misbehavior to Officer Schmidt, who agreed to catch them in the act at the right moment.

Gathered at the back, they smoked, laughed, and chatted. Suddenly, Officer Herman, who had been strategically passed through by Officer Schmidt, appeared. “HEY!” His voice cut through their chatter.

“Oh shit!” someone exclaimed as they all hurriedly threw their cigarettes away. Officer Herman approached them, his glare stern. “What are you doing back here?”

“Nothing, we’re just chilling,” one of them replied from the back, trying to act like nothing happened to hide their misconduct.

Officer Herman sniffed the air, catching the lingering scent of smoke. “YOU! Hand over your palm!” He pointed to one of the boys. He sniffed the boy’s hand and as expected, detected the smell of smoke. “Gather over there!” he ordered, then turned to the rest of the group. “All you maggots, line up now!”

One by one, they extended their hands for Officer Herman to sniff, each of them failing the impromptu test.

“Damn, I shouldn’t have followed you guys,” Axka muttered to Takoda, regretting his decision.

“Too late now, bro,” Takoda replied from behind, resigned to their fate. Axka glanced ahead and froze, watching one of his friends from other class, casually scratch his ass.

“Bernie, what the fuck are you doing?!” Axka whispered, his voice barely containing disbelief. It was such a ridiculous sight that he had to fight back laughter.

“I’m not that dumb to get caught, Axka,” Bernie gave a sly smirk.

“Next!” Officer Herman shouted. It was Bernie’s turn. “Good luck with that shit,” Axka murmured under his breath, still giggling from his laughter.

Officer Herman bent down, his nose hovering over Bernie’s hand. For a moment, he stayed still, squinting in suspicion. Then, with a sharp inhale, his face twisted in disgust. “WHY DOES YOUR HAND SMELL LIKE SHIT?”

Bernie froze, his face a perfect mask of innocence, though the glint in his eyes betrayed the mischief lurking beneath. The tension in the air crackled as a few of the boys fought back snickers, their shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter. Bernie might have been caught, but the smirk that tugged at his lips said he didn’t care.

“What’s your name?!” the officer demanded, his voice filled with irritation and face hardened.

“Bernando Esposito, sir.” His tone softened covering his innocent act.

“YOU MAGGOT, WAIT OVER THERE. I’LL MAKE SURE YOU GET IT WORSE!” The officer pushed Bernie aside, separating him from the rest. Takoda and Axka tried to hold in their laughter, but they ended up snorting instead.

“Next!” It was Axka’s turn, he immediately turned his face to neutral expression. The officer sniffed his hands. He paused and sniffed again, doubting him for not smoking.

“You’re clean,” He leaned back, nodding as he assured that Axka was not smoking with them. “But you’re still gonna join them. Go!”

Axka blinked, stunned by the accusation. 'Wait, what? Why?!' His voice cracked with disbelief, frustration boiling beneath his skin.

“You’re not smoking, but you’re not stopping them, so I just assumed you’re no different from them,” Officer Herman replied, his intense glare locking on Axka. He stood there, stunned. “You too! The last one!” the officer pointed to Takoda.

All of them got caught, leaving three out of the four from the Mavericks batch. Some who didn’t get caught still lingered around the camp area, unaware of the situation. As Herman brought the caught misconduct behavior Mavericks, officer Schmidt approached them.

“Kazimir,” he began, his voice low. “As their worthless king, what do you suggest to guide all of you?”

Kazimir, straightened up as he quick on his feet. “Push-ups are quite enough, sir!” Schmidt nodded in response.

“LISTEN UP, MAGGOTS! 100 push-ups—and don’t think you’ll get off easy. Each one counts as just one, and you’ll be repeating it 100 times!” he barked, his voice dripping with the cold authority of someone who enjoyed seeing them squirm.

“Except you boy, you got ten times over.” Officer Schmidt pointing to Bernie, whose seperated from the rest. The group glanced at him with their lips pressed, trying to contain their laughter.

Beneath Schmidt’s hard exterior, there was a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth, as if the chaos unfolding before him was rare entertainment.

“Man, this gotta be tiring.” Takoda muttered under his breath.

“Yeah, good luck, guys,” Smitty responded to Takoda’s complaint.

“Negus, What?” Aime and Axka questioned simultaneously, confused by Smitty’s tone.

Smitty strolled toward the officers, a smug grin creeping onto his face. Slowly, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. The group watched, confusion turning to irritation, as Smitty handed it to Officer Schmidt with a confident nod. It was a medical certificate—one he had bought in advance, exempting him from the day's grueling activities.

Officer Schmidt scanned the certificate, his eyebrows raising slightly as he glanced at Smitty. After a moment, he sighed, clearly irritated but bound by the rules. “Go sit over there,” he muttered. The officer’s tone was sharp.

Smitty’s smirk was infuriating. The others exchanged furious glances, their faces twisted in disbelief. The anger in the air was palpable, but Smitty just shrugged, leaving the others to face their punishment.

“Smitty, you traitor!” someone shouted.

“Motherfucking Smitty!” another echoed.

“Shit, Smitty, tricky as ever,” Axka muttered under his breath, but the words felt too small to capture the pang of anger burning in his chest.

“SHUT UP!” Officer Herman bellowed. “NOW DO IT!”

They dropped to the ground in the middle of the open space, right beside the camp, with the bathrooms in full view. Dirt clung to their hands as they struggled through the push-ups. Some boys shook, muscles trembling. Others froze halfway down, unable to rise again. Schmidt stood over them, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

As Axka’s arms burned with each push-up, the sight of his friend sitting there, untouched by the punishment gnawed at him. He pushed through, his arms burning. Only his anger kept him moving—at the officers, at himself, at the world for making his life feel like survival.

“Fuck,” Aime muttered, collapsing with a thud that echoed off the dirt. His body had given in before his mind could protest.

“Get up!” an officer’s boot prodded Aime’s side.

Aime didn’t move. “I can’t, sir. I’m tired… I really can’t,” Aime groaned, his voice cracking under the weight of exhaustion.

Schmidt’s smirk widened, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Then go join your friend over there.” He gestured at Smitty, who lounged in safety.”

The Mavericks paused, sighed with relief as they were expecting the officer to ease up. But instead, the only to hear Schmidt bark, “Since Aime’s too tired, you’ll all finish his share.”

Groans erupted, followed by a tense silence as Officer Mendoza’s voice cut through, “Silence!” Officer Mendoza shouted from a distance.

Kazimir shot Aime a quick glance, a mischievous glint in his eyes. With a dramatic sigh, he smirked and let himself collapse to the ground, mimicking Aime’s earlier stunt. “Good idea, Kaz,” Takoda muttered, following suit as the rest of the Mavericks dropped one by one, pretending their bodies had given in to exhaustion.

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Officer Schmidt nodded repeatedly, as if pleased with his own idea. “Alright, stop,” he announced. Bernie, not far from Axka, murmured a relieved “Yes!” under his breath. But Schmidt wasn’t finished. “If your hands are really that tired, it’s time to use your legs. Now, this time, run around the field. Ten laps count as one, repeat it ten times.”

Kazimir straighten on his knees. “But sir, how about Aime?” He gasped for breath, wiping his sweat dripping on his chin.

Officer Schmidt smirked menacingly, walking past the Mavericks. “Oh him? I only gave a chance to one person.”

A chorus of complaints erupted from the group, frustration building. “Now start!” Schmidt barked, cutting through the noise.

With groans and complaints, they began the grueling run. The runners pushed forward, their bodies aching with every step. The field stretched endlessly before them, every breath felt like fire.

The Achievers and the remaining Mavericks who had evaded punishment busied themselves with cleaning duties. The other teachers oversaw the students, their expressions varying between concern, amusement, and indifference as they watched the officers ‘guiding’ the errant campers.

“Mr. Lawson, isn’t this too harsh on them?” Ms. Lyra asked, her voice tinged with worry.

Mr. Lawson replied, “The public school system is already harsh for them. If they want it easier, they should go to an institute or an academy. Those high-class and private schools are more suitable for them if they can afford it.”

“But we’ve already punished them at school with caning. This doesn’t make any diff—” she began, but Mr. Lawson cut her off. “Remember the program’s name, Ms. Lyra.” His voice firm, reminding her of the camp's tough-love approach. She sighed and reluctantly complied.

“Alright, everyone, we will continue with our earlier activities. Next will be ‘water relay’ and ‘minefield.’” Mr. Lawson announced, shifting the focus back to the schedule.

Every time the runners passed Aime and Smitty lounging comfortably on the sidelines, the exhaustion boiled over into rage. “Fuck you!” Most of them yelled between ragged breaths, their chaotic voices cracking with frustration. Some even slipped a chance to flash a middle finger in their direction. Aime just smiled back, a picture of relaxation, stretching his legs out even more as if to rub it in.

As they hit the ninth lap, the Mavericks started to falter. Their legs dragged, breaths coming in sharp bursts. Up ahead, one of the boys suddenly doubled over.

“Oh fuck,” he gagged, vomiting onto the dirt. The sound of retching cut through the air.

“Shit, don’t throw up near me!” Axka barked, jumping to the side.

The stench almost hit someone near him, the boy stomach flipping. He waved a hand in front of his face. “Nasty ass,” he panted, glaring at the boy as he wiped his mouth and stumbled back into the run.

Despite the grueling exercise, it wasn’t meant to be cruelty. The officers were making a point, making the Mavericks understand the consequences of their actions. Officer Schmidt showing a sliver of mercy, already instructed Aime and Smitty to carry over a few cartons of water. They placed them near him as he grabbed a megaphone, addressing the runners who were now on their thirteenth lap.

“Maggots, gather here,” Schmidt called out with his megaphone.

The runners approached him, their breaths ragged and labored. Even Takoda seemed to be reaching his limit, while Axka, though equally exhausted, managed to stand somewhat steadily. “Each of you, take a bottle,” Officer Schmidt commanded.

The boys grabbed the bottles eagerly, collapsing onto the ground right after, trying to regain their energy. Some were too worn out to even reach for the water, forcing the officers to hand the bottles directly to them.

“You have one hour to rest. Make it count,” Schmidt ordered, his voice firm and final.

The boys lay sprawled on the ground, too exhausted to do anything but listen, barely able to process anything beyond the relief of finally stopping.

As soon as Axka grabbed a bottle, he made his way over to Takoda, who was lying on the ground, too exhausted to talk. He just clutched his bottle, catching his breath. Axka’s eyes drifted to Smitty and Aime, sitting not far from them, looking far too comfortable for his liking. When they glanced in his direction, Axka flipped them the middle finger, making sure the officers didn’t catch it. The two just smirked back at him playfully, clearly enjoying their free pass.

Sighing, Axka sitting on the ground beside Takoda. “Fuck them both,” Axka muttered under his breath, but the words felt hollow.

“Yeah,” Takoda panted beside him, offering nothing more. Exhaustion weighed on him more than anger now.

In the quiet that followed, Axka realized it wasn’t Smitty and Aime he hated—it was how he face the punishment without them by his side, thinking they were in this together. But in the name of friendship, he pushed that to the side.

***

It was already late in the afternoon when the ‘guided’ Mavericks finally rejoined the rest of the group, who were taking a break from their recent punishments. Though the Mavericks were late, they managed to catch the tail end of the current activity, squeezing in a few moments of participation before it ended.

After their short rest, the entire camp resumed their activities, this time with the previously punished Mavericks back in the mix. The atmosphere felt more unified, though weariness from the day’s exertions hung over the group. As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, signaling the end of the day’s events, an announcement rang out: “Everyone, gather at the assembly.”

Teachers and officers moved in the background, heading toward the assembly area. Some Mavericks began to speculate, hoping the officers were finally leaving.

“Thank God-King,” someone mumbled in mock reverence.

“Heck yeah!” another murmured, sounding more relieved than celebratory.

They all moved to gather, the teachers standing to the side of the podium while the officers took their place on the stage, ready to address the tired but attentive campers. Everyone waited, the tension of the day still lingering in the air as they braced for whatever would come next.

“I really need to sleep early tonight,” Aime muttered, sounding utterly exhausted.

“Yeah, I wish, but I think they have another activity tonight,” Smitty replied, shaking his head.

“But Mr. Caden will be here tonight, right? I bet it will be fun!” Takoda chimed in, trying to lift the mood.

“Yeah, y’all gonna have to wait 'cause he’s gonna bring me to my house,” Axka raised his brow, his face etched with fatigue.

“Damn, don’t take too long, dude,” Aime responded.

Axka’s irritation simmered as he replayed the day’s events in his mind. They weren’t even as tired as he was, and yet they still had the nerve to tell him what to do. “You two can fuck—” His words were abruptly cut off by Mr. Lawson’s sharp announcement, pulling everyone’s attention back:

“May I have all your attention, please. I have an announcement for our night activity. We will need officers to ensure we are safe. Further details about the night activity will be announced right before it starts.”

The Mavericks groaned in unison. “So, they’re staying?” someone murmured. “Shit, mate, I thought they were leaving,” another babbled under their breath.

“Silence, everyone,” Mr. Lawson said firmly. “Now, as usual, we need to prepare for our dinner.” With that, everyone started moving, slipping into their routines.

As dusk settled over the camp and the preparation for dinner was underway, the sound of a bike approaching the gate broke the quiet. Mr. Caden arrived earlier than he had the previous day.

“Look, it’s Mr. Caden!” someone pointed him out. Everyone paused for a moment, watching his arrival with cheers and welcoming gestures. Caden raised his hand in acknowledgment, waving back as he made his way toward Mr. Lawson.

“Mr. Caden, you arrived early today,” Mr. Lawson said, attempting to hide his mild irritation.

“Well, it’s for the night activity. I need someone to help me carry the equipment,” Caden stepping off from his bike, he glanced at the police vehicles. “I see you brought some of my ex-coworkers.”

Mr. Lawson’s voice sharpened, his words clipped with barely-concealed irritation. “You’re not the only one. I intend to control ‘your’ kind. It's more fitting to bring them from the Juv—”

But before he could finish, Caden’s smirk widened. “Anyway, I’ll borrow your car for the boxes,” he cut in smoothly, brushing aside the tension with casual authority.

The grin never left his face as Mr. Lawson’s eyes narrowed, clearly displeased, but he handed over the keys with reluctant fingers. His car was a brand-new model, and the thought of it being damaged irritated him. “If I find even a scratch—” he started to say, but Caden interrupted again. “Thank you, kind sir.” He took the key without another word.

As Caden moved toward the preparation area, Officer Ron’s eyes followed him, suspicion flickering in his eyes. He leaned into his partner, whispering something as they both stared at him. Caden, feeling their stares on his back, didn’t even flinch. He kept walking, his movements measured, as though their opinions didn’t matter.

“Axka, over here, little brother,” Caden called out, his hand raised in a casual wave. Axka caught the gesture and made his way over, noting the slight weariness in Caden’s eyes. Despite the tiredness, Caden stood tall, his presence steady as ever.

“Come with me. I need your help with taking stuff for the night activity at the school,” Caden urged, waiting Axka on his side for them to walk side by side.

“Okay,” Axka replied. As they walked towards the drop point, Axka asked, “Yeah, I heard about the night activity, but Mr. Lawson didn’t say what it’s about.”

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna be fun,” Caden chuckled, then coughed.

“Are you really okay?” Axka asked, getting suspicious as Caden kept coughing.

“Just a sore throat,” Caden said, dismissing it as they entered Mr. Lawson’s car.

As they drove off, the radio played oldies in the background and they sang a bit to pass the time. “I loaded everything earlier this morning,” Caden said, cutting through the music. “You just have to move it into the car.”

“So, that’s why you left early this morning,” Axka said, raising an eyebrow.

Caden nodded, offering a tired smile. “Yeah, and now you get to carry everything—I’m wiped. The quicker you move, the faster we’ll be done.”

“It’s okay, I got it,” Axka shrugged. His muscles were already aching, but there was no point in complaining.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a few light boxes,” Caden added, his tone reassuring.

“Alright.” Axka muttered, glancing out the window as they arrived at their school. His muscles ached, but he pushed the weariness aside—there was still work to be done.

“Okay, it’s all in the storage room, already labeled,” Caden said as they pulled to a stop. Axka barely registered his words, his thoughts still spinning from the long day. He took a steady breath, pushing aside his fatigue as he readied for the next task.

As Axka carried the boxes into the car, one after another. In the back, Caden shifted things around, clearing space with quick, practiced movements.

“Just a few more,” Caden called over, his voice slightly hoarse.

Axka hefted the last box into the car. As he moved, his thoughts began to drift. How was he going to sneak out later? Mika would still be awake, and there was no way he could slip out unnoticed.

He’d done it before but Mika was getting smarter, he was growing up. He needed an excuse solid enough that Mika wouldn’t question him. He’d need Caden’s help—he just had to figure out the right excuse.

After some time, the boxes were all loaded, and they started driving to Axka’s home.

“Caden,” Axka started, his voice low, “I need your help with something.”

Caden’s eyes locked on the road. “Excuse for sneaking out again, huh?”

Axka nodded. “Yeah. I need a good one.”

Caden smirked, glancing at Axka with a knowing look. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out when we get there.” As they drove toward Axka’s house, the roar of camp life faded, replaced by the hum of the car’s engine and the soft buzz of evening traffic.

They arrived at Axka's house. He stepped inside, the quiet house unsettling. “Mika?” he called, his voice bouncing off the walls. No answer. A flicker of concern sparked in his chest—where could he be? His eyes scanned the empty rooms, his frustration rising with every second Mika didn’t appear.

Caden sank into the couch with a groan, stretching his legs, but Axka barely noticed. His focus was elsewhere—he paced the room, glancing toward the hallway where Mika’s door remained closed.

The bedroom door creaked open, and Mika appeared, rubbing his tired eyes. “Axka,” he started, his voice soft, “sorry, I was about to sleep, but I heard a voice calling me outside.”

“You were about to sleep without eating anything?” Axka’s voice grew sharp, though he tried to keep it steady.

Mika’s shoulders slumped, his voice barely above a whisper. “Y-yes…”

“Mika…” Axka’s voice came out sharper than he intended, laced with frustration. Mika flinched, eyes wide and downcast. He stared down at the floor, feeling the guilt

“You could’ve gotten sick, you know that—” Just as Axka was about to continue, Caden called out from the living room, his voice calm yet firm. “Axka…”

Axka glanced at him, catching Caden’s soft shake of the head. Without saying another word, Caden’s look was enough to remind him not to get carried away. Axka’s anger faltered, he exhaled slowly. He muttered, “I’m gonna make a quick meal for us. After you eat, then you can sleep.”

Mika’s shoulders sagged, his eyes fixed on the floor, refusing to meet Axka’s glare. “Okay...” he whispered, his voice so quiet it almost disappeared. The single word hung in the air, cut deeper than Axka expected. It wasn’t just the sound—it was the way Mika refused to look at him, the quiet surrender in his posture. Axka felt the weight of failure settle in his chest, heavy and suffocating.

How did it come to this? The anger that surged through him moments ago now drained, leaving behind nothing but an ache in his chest. Guilt twisted inside him like a knife. He had promised not to become rough and harsh again, yet here he was, turning into the very thing he swore he’d never become, made him feel like the world’s worst brother.

For a moment, he felt an unfamiliar sting—a sharp twist of guilt and self-doubt, a realization that beneath all his bravado, he was failing in the one place it mattered most.

Caden, always quick to lighten the mood, smiled at Mika. “Hey Mika, let’s go see the city from the verandah,” he suggested, giving Axka the time he needed to cook.

Axka stepped into the kitchen, the quiet hum of the rice cooker filling the small space. He cracked the eggs into a bowl, their shells cracking loudly in the stillness. He chopped the onions quickly, ready to put them into the pan. The sounds of sizzling onions filled the warm kitchen, but it couldn’t ease the heaviness in his chest.

As he cooks, fires in kitchen sparking along with his whirlpool of thoughts—memories of his mother’s gentle smile, the way Mika used to laugh without a care in the world.

“Promise me…”

The voice of the promise came, the one to making sure Mika safe. Yet here he was, caught in the same cycle of anger, raising Mika into the mess he called a life.

Why am I lashing out to him? Is it because of today’s? Axka wandered, searching for the reason for his anger at his own brother. He has nothing to do with all that, what is wrong with me…

Pushing aside his raced mind, he tried to focus again on making their meal.

The cool night air brushed against their skin as Caden and Mika stood on the verandah, gazing out at the faint twinkle of distant city lights. The quiet hum of the night contrasted with the earlier tension in the house.

“He’s just worried about you, Mika,” Caden glanced at Mika, his voice comforting. “Don’t misunderstand your brother. He cares about you, just frustrated. He just doesn’t always know how to express it.”

Mika hesitated for a moment, his eyes fixed on the city. “I know...” he whispered, his voice barely audible. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly at Caden’s words.

Caden smiled softly, his hand gently ruffling Mika’s hair. For a moment, Mika leaned into the touch, finding comfort in the quiet reassurance.

Axka glanced up from the stove as Mika and Caden were outside. “Food’s done,” Axka called out, his voice softer now. Mika and Caden stepped back into the house, the warmth of the kitchen greeting them after the cool night air. Mika ate in silence, his movements slow and deliberate. He finished quickly, scraping the last of his meal before rising.

“I’m going to sleep,” he mumbled, barely loud enough for them to hear as he took his plate to the sink. “Good night.”

“Good night, Mika,” Axka and Caden replied in unison as Mika shuffled off to bed, his body heavy with exhaustion. After a moment, Caden turned to Axka, a knowing look in his eyes. “Alright, finish your food. We’ve got to get back to camp.”

When they finished eating, Axka quietly opened the bedroom door to check on Mika, watching him sleep soundly.

Sleep well, Mika, Axka wished him good night, guilt and protectiveness weighing on him. I’m sorry about things earlier.

The drive home passed in silence, the engine humming steadily as trees blurred past the window. Axka stared outside, his thoughts heavy with everything left unsaid. The world seemed to move in slow motion, but inside, his guilt kept pace, relentless.

Caden sensed the weight of Axka’s thoughts, his own stare fixed on the road ahead. He knew Axka very well, always reflecting on his actions toward his brother. “You’re thinking too much, little brother,” Caden’s voice broke through his thoughts, hoarse but steady.

“I know you didn’t mean it, but you’ve got to learn how to handle things without hurting people,” Caden said gently, his voice warm and calm. “It’s not easy, but you’re learning.”

“I’m trying,” Axka muttered, his voice filled with uncertainty “But every time I think I’m doing the right thing, it just feels like I’m making things worse.”

“Plus, we fought a lot when I reunited with him again,” Axka admitted, his voice quieter now.

Caden chuckled softly, recalling memories from his own life. “Siblings fight, Axka. Trust me, other brothers and sisters have it worse. You and Mika? You’ve got one of the most peaceful brotherhoods I’ve ever seen. You were more aggressive back then, but I see the way you’re changing. And you’ve got to keep doing better.”

“I still have a lot to learn from you,” Axka admitted, pushing his mouth to the side of his cheek.

Caden glanced at him, a knowing look in his eyes. “Not just from me, Axka. You’ve got to learn from everything in life.”

Without Axka realizing it, they had arrived back at camp. “Here we are. Call the others to help you,” Caden said as he pressed the button to open the back of the car.

As Axka stepped out of the car, the cool night air hit him, a welcome contrast to the stifling tension that had been building since they left home. The camp was already buzzing with movement, everyone gathered at the assembly area. Takoda spotted him and waved.

“Hey guys, need some help here!” Axka called, making his way toward him. The exhaustion still clung to his muscles, but the familiarity of the camp routine grounded him. Takoda grabbed a box, smiling. “Hey, I saved you some food. You look like you could use it.”

“Thanks, I’ll be back in a sec,” Axka replied, heading off to grab his food. As the boys carried the boxes, Caden lit a cigarette and walked toward the podium. Officer Schmidt, standing nearby, noticed him. “So, it is you,” Schmidt said, approaching.

Caden took a slow drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke linger in his lungs for a moment before exhaling. “Officer,” he replied, his voice cool and measured.

Schmidt stepped closer, his glare lingering on the tattoos peeking from Caden’s nape. “My partner said something about you earlier. Those tats... why a teacher?” There was a challenge in Schmidt’s voice, his tone laced with mockery.

Caden took a slow drag, the smoke curling in his lungs. His eyes, steady and unblinking, remained locked on Schmidt. “I changed,” he said, his voice steady. His eyes remained locked on Schmidt, daring him to challenge the statement.

Schmidt chuckled sarcastically. “Your puny gang’s records are still in our system. We could take you in if we wanted to.”

“Decades-old and case-closed records,” Caden taking a long drag. The calm exterior Caden maintained was a thin shell, barely covering the thorns of his past that still pricked at him, reminding him of the man he used to be. He couldn’t decide whether the ache in his chest was regret or a slow, simmering anger at himself for ever walking that path. He exhaled slowly, wondering if anyone—least of all himself—would ever forget.

“We’ll see if ‘Raging’ still suits you,” Schmidt muttered, walking away with a dark chuckle.

By the time Axka and the others finished unloading the boxes, Caden almost finished his smoke. Schmidt’s words cut deeper than he wanted to admit. He took a drag, hiding the flicker of anger. No matter how far he ran, the shadows of his past followed him, lingering in the corners of his mind.

Caden watched the cigarette burn down to the filter, the last wisps of smoke curling into the cold night air before fading into nothing. His past would always be there, a shadow lurking just behind him. But he had the power to decide where he went from here.

He stubbed out the cigarette, a quiet but firm declaration to himself.

I couldn’t change where he came from, but I could change the man I became.