At dawn, Axka slipped into his house, the creaking floorboards threatening to betray his presence. The early morning air inside was still cool, with a faint scent of the previous night's chill lingering in the hallway.
In the kitchen, he prepared their usual breakfast. Setting the plate down, he glanced toward Mika's room.
“Good morning, Axka,” Mika greeted, limping as he walked out with the walking sticks Axka had found in the discard pile the day before picking Mika up. Despite being discarded, Axka still found them quite useful.
Axka's stern expression softened, though a worry lingered in his eyes. Mika’s slow recovery gnawed at him, but he hid his fatigue behind a determined smile.
“G’morning, Mika. There’s your breakfast”, Axka replied, preparing himself in school uniform. Mika, still in recovery, would be staying home today while Axka had school to attend.
“I gotta get going,” Axka began, “just call me if you need anything, okay?” Axka said as he prepared to leave. Phones weren’t allowed at school, but he didn’t care. Rules seemed trivial when your world had already been turned upside down.
“Alright, be careful,” replied Mika, as he settled down for his breakfast.
As Axka trudged to school, the morning chill cut through his thin uniform. Each step echoed in the silent streets, the crunch of his worn sneakers on the gravel a steady rhythm, mirroring the turmoil in his mind. He adjusted the strap of his bag, feeling its weight dig into his shoulder. His eyes dropped to the ground, his brow furrowed in deep thought. He slowed his pace, a faint sigh escaping his lips as the familiar doubts crept in, relentless and unyielding.
His mind wandered, replaying the same question over and over:
Was I doing enough—enough for Mika? Was I doing everything I could, or was I just fooling myself into believing that being there was enough?
The question gnawed at him, a constant, nagging doubt that settled deep in his chest, heavy like the tattered bag slung over his shoulder.
Was I being the brother Mika needed? The weight of doubt pressed on him, more suffocating than the cold air.
His eyes remained fixed on the ground, brow furrowed in deep thought. He had barely slept, his body moving on autopilot, driven more by obligation than will. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as the school gates loomed ahead in the misty morning light. The gates remained shut until 7 a.m., but Axka arrived unusually early. The crisp morning air gave him a brief jolt of energy.
Leaning against the wall by the entrance, he let his mind drift back to the present. His responsibilities, his fatigue, all of it could wait. At that moment, he just wanted a break from the relentless weight of his thoughts.
As he waited, he spotted his sworn brother and closest friend, Takoda approaching, a smirk already forming on his face—a welcome distraction from the internal chaos.
Takoda's eyes met Axka's, reflecting a shared pain from their past. They had both lost their parents at a young age, forced to leave their Ancestor’s land during the conflict, and had forged a deep bond in each other's company in this new city, new country, new land.
“You look like you've been up all night, Axka. Is Mika okay?” Takoda asked, his voice carrying concern masked by a casual tone.
“Yeah, Mika’s hanging in there,” Axka said, a grin tugging at his lips as he ruffled his long hair. “You know me, though. Gotta keeps an eye on him.”
Takoda snorted. “There it is—Axka the softie. Pretending to be tough, but a big softie.”
“Shut up, asshole,” Axka laughed, shoving him lightly. “Like you’re any different.”
Their laughter provided a brief respite from their weariness. Then Takoda's tone shifted, becoming a bit more serious. “You know you’re gonna pass out in class again, right? Just don’t let Mrs. Meiyi catch you in math, man.” His reminder was a blend of sarcasm and concern.
“I don’t know, bro. It’s hard not to get caught when someone’s watching.” Axka yawned. “A little shut-eye would be enough for me, at least,” Axka said, squatting down and resting his head on his arms.
“I might wanna tell Ms. Meiyi that you’re sleeping in the class then.” Takoda chuckled, trying to ease the mood.
“I’m going to pull your pants off if you do that,” Axka responded, still resting on his arms, the ground reflecting his voice.
Suddenly, the school’s gate makes a grating sound as it slides open. A few students that arrived early already made their way inside.
“Hey, it’s open. Let’s get inside. You might get a chance to sleep in the class before the literature class.” Takoda lightly nudged Axka to signal him to get up. He groaned in response but eventually straightened up and walked inside, side by side.
Stepping into their classroom, Axka was greeted by the familiar scent of chalk dust. He dropped his bag next to his desk and immediately laid down on the table. The weight of exhaustion embraced him.
After a few moments of students from class 11-D shuffling into the classroom, the bell rang, signaling the start of their literature class. Axka woke up, seeking solace in the room’s familiar surroundings.
In the class that follows, the teacher’s monotonous and repetitive voice serves as the perfect lullaby for Axka. He slept like a baby behind his standing opened book, which forms a makeshift barrier, gradually surrendering to sleep. Next to him, Takoda keeps a watchful eye on his sworn brother, a slight, knowing smile on his face.
To others, Axka might appear as just another indifferent, lazy student but Takoda understands the true weight behind his exhaustion.
As Axka drifts off, his knee inadvertently bumps the desk, drawing the teacher's attention, “What’s that?” The teacher said.
Damn, I gotta do the same sound or else, Axka get caught. Takoda immediately mimics the sound by knocking his own knee against his desk
“Oh, it was you, Takoda.” The teacher glanced at him. Takoda nodded in response, skillfully diverting the teacher’s suspicion away from Axka that hiding behind his book. “Alright, let me continue from the last part.” The literature teacher continued from where he left off. Takoda sighed of relief, an attempt for distraction of the day succeeded.
An hour passed, the bell signaling the end of literature class rings. Takoda's concern shifts to the upcoming math class, where their usual tricks won’t work. His face registers a mix of surprise and anxiety, while Axka, still deep in slumber, remains oblivious.
As Takoda leans over to rouse Axka. “Hey, Axk—” he begins, but is abruptly interrupted.
Mrs. Meiyi, their math teacher, stormed into the room, her presence as sharp as her voice. A veteran teacher with a reputation for no-nonsense discipline, she had a quick temper and a sharper tongue especially for students like Axka who tested her patience.
Her eyes narrowed as she caught sight of Axka asleep and without missing a beat, she began hurling objects from her desk—Marker pen, erasers, whatever her hand could grab.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Her aim was off, and in the chaos, she hurled a few objects at Takoda, knowing he was covering for Axka. Takoda deftly dodged the projectiles, but one piece of marker pen slipped past him and smacked Axka squarely on the forehead.
Axka jolted awake, red-eyed and disoriented, the imprint of his drool still visible on his cheek. The classroom erupted into laughter, and he blinked rapidly, trying to piece together what had just happened.
Mrs. Meiyi stood at the front, arms crossed, her glare as sharp as the chalk she’d thrown.
“Nice of you to join us again, Axka,” she sneered, her sarcasm cutting through the lingering laughter.
Takoda's eyes met Axka's, a mixture of concern and suppressed laughter playing across his face. Axka managed a weak grin, slowly getting aware of the situation he’d caused.
“Both of you, sit right here. I don’t want to see you sleeping again, Axka, and stop telling Takoda to cover for you.” Mrs. Meiyi pointed to two empty seats at the front, directly under her watchful eye.
Not even a chance for a peaceful sleep. Axka groaned internally, gathered his books, and moved to the front. He sighed, acknowledging that his naptime was officially over.
As they settled into their new seats, Axka leaned over to whisper to Takoda, “Thanks for trying, man.” Takoda shrugged, a grin on his face.
Math class dragged on, filled with numbers and equations, but Axka’s mind was elsewhere. He was still reeling from the exhaustion that had pulled him into such a deep sleep. The weight of his life outside these walls—the constant juggling of being a brother, an underpaid part-time worker, and sometimes a student—felt heavy on him.
Trying to lighten the mood, Axka noticed Takoda glancing at him. He turned slowly, tilting his head with a big, exaggerated smile, his red eyes wide and comically marked with a drool streak on his cheek.
Takoda struggled to contain his laughter, pressing his lips together tightly but unable to hold back a snort of amusement. Just then, another object from the front of the room hit Takoda squarely.
“Oh shit,” Axka whispered, immediately pretending to focus on the lesson.
“Focus!” Mrs. Meiyi called them both out, the class continued its routine. The familiar rhythm of school life surrounded them once more.
***
The break bell finally rang, a welcome relief from the morning’s grueling lessons. Axka stretched, feeling every ache in his tired muscles. His thoughts drifted home, to Mika. Alone. He pictured his brother’s pale face, the way he’d last seen him, and his stomach tightened.
Was Mika managing okay?
For a moment, he was lost in his thoughts, but the buzz of the classroom chatter pulled him back. He needed a break—not just from the classroom, but from his own relentless thoughts. He swallowed hard, trying to shake off the creeping guilt.
As the students filed out along with Axka and Takoda, the familiar sight of their friends brought a brief respite from the monotony. Aime and Smitty, always eager for a new adventure, sidled up to Axka and Takoda. Aime's eyes were wide with excitement.
Aime, a natural-born talker with a penchant for exaggeration as his family are one of the nobles in Alpenreich, he thrived on the thrill of the unknown even he wasn’t brave enough for it. His eyes were already wide with excitement as he leaned in, started, “Yo guys, hear me out.”
Axka glanced at him. “Did you hear about the old warehouse down by the streets? Rumor has it there's some sort of secret club meeting there tonight.” Aime said, barely containing his enthusiasm.
Axka glanced at him, half-interested, half distracted. “A secret club, huh?” he muttered, still shaking off the morning fog.
Smitty rolled his eyes playfully, a habitual skeptic whose collected demeanor often masked his sense of curiosity and assumptions. Smitty, who had grown up in a peaceful neighborhood near Aime’s, was trying to be different from the others.
“You and your rumors, Aime.” He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, his mind weighing the risks even as a smirk played on his lips. Then, raising an eyebrow, he added, “But I have to admit, I’m curious.”
In the bustling corridors of the school, the four friends stood out. Two pairs of friends converged, forming a group bound by shared experiences and a love for mischief. It wasn’t just about causing trouble but also about having fun along the way.
Their school named them ‘The Slingers’ for their iconic sling messenger bags, they were adventurous, mischievous, energetic, and agile. They pushed boundaries, explored the unknown, and faced challenges with excitement.
They stepped into the cafeteria, a lively yet spacious area where everyone seemed to live in their own world while they lived in theirs. Takoda and the others queued for the day’s breakfast, while Axka headed toward the drink stand, about to grab a banana from the display.
Suddenly, a large hand swooped in, grabbing everything from the display in one swift motion. Axka’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“What the— Hey! Don’t take all of it, shithead,” he called out, his voice steady but edged with irritation.
The guy, a hulking figure with a sneer that seemed carved into his face, turned slowly, his eyes narrowing with contempt.
“All mine, you little immigrant fuck,” the guy spat, his voice dripping with malice. “Why don’t you go dig something out of the trash?”
The insult wasn’t new, but today it struck a nerve. Axka’s face hardened, his eyes narrowing as he squared his shoulders, changing his weariness into the pump of adrenaline.
“Please say it one more time,” he growled sarcastically, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble, every muscle in his body tensing like a coiled spring ready to snap.
The usual buzzing of students’ chatter died down, replaced by the soft shuffle of feet and the low murmur of whispers as students drawn to the impending clash like moths to a flame as Axka locked eyes with him.
A cold tension settled over the cafeteria, the air crackling with a mix of fear and anticipation. Axka’s jaw clenched so tight he could hear his teeth grinding. His fists curled so tightly his knuckles turned white, each breath shallow and sharp like a knife’s edge, cutting through the thick tension hanging in the air.
Across from him, the guy’s gang shifted, their presence looming like a dark cloud, ready to rain down trouble. Takoda and the others glanced at each other, their breaths held, waiting to see how the confrontation would unfold and ready to fight alongside him.
Annoyed, the guy glanced away briefly and in a split second threw a cheap shot, swinging a wild punch at Axka's head, but Axka was used to this and expecting such a move.
His body moved on instinct, ducking low just as the fist cut through the air above him. He felt the wind of the missed blow brush past his hair. Planting his feet, Axka shifted his weight back, his muscles coiling like a spring. With a swift twist of his hips, he countered with a sharp jab to the guy's jaw.
The impact was solid—a dull, satisfying thud reverberating through his knuckles. The guy’s eyes widened in shock before glazing over, his body going limp almost instantly. He crumpled to the floor, collapsing like a puppet with its strings severed, the cafeteria erupting into a stunned silence.
His gang froze, their confidence evaporating instantly. Axka looked around at the silent crowd, his eyes locking onto each member of the gang one by one, daring to react.
“Anyone else got a fucking problem?” he said, his voice calm but carrying a sharp edge. The gang remained silent as they stood frozen, their confidence shattered.
His friends burst into laughter, their voices echoing off the cafeteria walls, a sharp contrast to the still, shocked silence that followed the fight. The laughter was almost manic, a release of the tension that had gripped them moments before.
But Axka wasn’t finished. He picked up a banana, peeling it as he looked down at the unconscious guy. With a dark, mocking tone, he held the banana to the guy’s mouth, shoving it in and out.
“Know what this is? You like it, huh?” he taunted, pulling the banana back and forth, simulating like an oral intercourse. After leaving it in his mouth, he took a bite of the last banana, placing the peel on the guy’s head.
“Monkey,” he mocked, pointing down at him with a stone-cold expression.
His friends howled with laughter at the crude joke, but Axka wasn’t done. He bent down, whispering to the unconscious guy, ensuring his friends heard every word, his voice dropping to a whisper that carried a cold, calculated menace.
“Next time,” Axka began softly, “you want to start shit over something as stupid as bananas, think thrice.” He stood up, leaving the guy there as a clear demonstration of what happens when people pick the wrong fight.
Axka stood at the center, his eyes locked on the gang members, daring anyone to make the next move. The cafeteria was deathly silent, every student frozen in place, waiting. The weight of what had just happened hung heavy in the air.
As his friends’ laughter continued, it gradually faded in Axka's ears, drowned out by his sharpened focus on the gang. The immediate threat was over, but he knew there were still challenges ahead.