Everyone knew about Shum Deil of H Junior High as well as P district’s II Junior High School. He was the kid who got kicked out of District II and made to transfer to H in the middle of his last year of junior high. The cause of transfer only stated: violation of school rules.

With kids at that age, there was no satisfaction in hearing something mundane as the formerly stated reason. So, of course, wild guesses started circulating in half a day. They ranged from theft, gambling and indecent acts on school grounds to damaging school property and bullying. Their variation went on a pretty big scale, sometimes sprinkled with rather creative ideas like,

“Did you hear that Shum Deil got kicked out of District II for joining a street gang?”

The boy who heard this sneered. “That’s bullshit. Have you ever seen street gangs around here?”

The kids around them snickered. It was recess time and everyone clustered in groups for discussion.

The girl who started the guessing got a rosy tint in her cheeks right away. She was flustered by getting called out like that. Flinging her long hair over her shoulder, she turned sideways in her seat. “Th-then what do you think it was?” She humphed, jutting her chin out.

The boy got a glint in his pale brown eyes. He was lounging on the top of her desk, one of his legs flinging back and forth as he looked down at the obviously flustered girl.

“He beat up a teacher.” The boy made a fist with his hand and aimed it at the girl’s chin with a light punch.

The others laughed, but the girl’s eyes widened.

At that moment, a male classmate passed by their desk. The boy jumped down from the table hooking his arm around the oncoming classmate’s neck. “What do you think, Sae?”

Sae pried the arm from his neck and looked at the little group anticipating his answer. “Nothing. It’s pretty obvious that it’s nothing but a rumour. Otherwise, it’d be school violence, no?” His voice sounded decidedly uncaring. Sae adjusted his glasses and waited.

When he said it like that, what could the others say? They did not answer and after a while Sae walked away, no longer interested.

This was H Junior High, the day after the incident. Being the only other school in their district, even if kids knew each other from the two schools, they could not match every detail just yet.

The lines of communication only stretched far enough that they heard about the dismissal. Putting two and two together, it was easy to calculate where the transfer’s destination would be. The two schools exchanged messages overnight but even District II’s students did not know exactly what went down behind the closed doors of the teachers’ office.

So to say, it was quite boisterous on both the sender’s and the to-be receiver’s end.

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On Monday the 26th, Shum Deil, the name that crawled onto everyone’s lips and then fluttered away just as fast – jumping from mouth to mouth – stepped over the gates of H Junior High to all of its students’ highest anticipation.

In a little over one week’s time, the degree went from a wild goose chase like joining a gang, to concrete facts of assault that was actually committed outside of school grounds. But that was hardly the point.

“What I’ve heard is that he got into a fight with a bunch of kids near High Street,” announced a girl one morning in front of the entire class, her speech so fast that she slurred some of the words. She had to stop and swallow. “Even the police got involved.”

And so, the buzzing of whispers in the senior year’s humanity class of H Junior High, the first junior high in P. district, did not cease even after the teacher walked in. Of course, this piece of information was way more interesting than basic geometry. The poor man in his fifties had to smack a book on the podium to make everyone shut up and pay attention.

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Unfortunately, this was not Shum Deil’s first offence. In truth, no matter how good of a student the boy was on paper, in reality, he was a real headache to deal with. After more than one teacher got their hands full of the absurdity of his affairs, and when at last, even the police got involved; his previous head teacher gave up as well.

It seemed, quite frankly, an impossible challenge.

“Senior Year, Science Class II, that's class D. That will be you ‘til the end of the year, and I will be your head teacher,” the man’s tone was solemn as he tapped his fingers on the tabletop.

Deil stood before his new head teacher’s desk in the teachers’ office with freshly printed documents shoved into his hands. His eyes boldly gazed around, and the bruising on his face made him look more hostile than he actually was.

“You know my name, right?” the teacher asked, looking over the rim of his glasses.

A few seconds passed without a sound from either of them. A phone ringing in the background made up for it, but that did not mean a lot.

Finally, right when the man was about to open his mouth, utterly irritated, Deil said, “Yes.”

“Good.” The teacher gave him a look. “You can call me Sir or Teacher Beyan. My phone number is on the top of the class roster.”

Deil looked down at one of the papers in his hand. The phone number really was there, neatly printed out. It made him furrow his brows; he never knew any of his past head teachers’ phone numbers.

“I’ll add you to the class group chat today and...” Teacher Beyan leaned back and looked over the youngster standing before him. “What to do about the uniform? Hmm, you’ll need to take care of that.” His fingers tapped away on the desk’s glass covered surface, his eyes wary and a bit judgemental.

Deil dotted his old school uniform with wrinkled lines on his white shirt, the hem half tucked in.

“After classes today, I want to speak with you in the consultation room. Meet me there at 3 on the second floor.” This time, the teacher did not wait for an answer. “If I’m not there for some reason, you come back here to look for me. I’ll take you to class now.” He stood up, grabbed his class book and ushered Shum Deil to the classroom of science class II.

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One teacher and one student passed by in the hallway. From classrooms lining their path, kids brimming with curiosity stuck out their heads. In the humanities class, a big group caused a ruckus, pulling and pushing each other to the windows. There was a variety of commentary, some whispered, some loud and clear to the ears:

“I think he’s more handsome than in the photos. Someone said he continually gets first place in his year all the way back to elementary school.”

“And you believe that! Would he still be a delinquent if he’s so smart?”

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"Eyy, looks scary."

“Yo, have you seen the bruises? Badass!”

“He’s not tall at all. I doubt he beat up five older kids.”

The commotion stirred even Sae’s attention, making him look up as the teacher and Shum Deil passed by the door of their classroom. Sae caught a glance of Shum Deil’s jet black hair and the worn bag strapped over his slouching body. At first glance, he did not look like an evil-doer; neither did he look anything reputable.

Just then, class C’s head teacher arrived and the kids gathered in the hallway dispersed. The students of the class returned to their seats, still quietly chatting.

Their head teacher was rather young, very ambitious, but seemed to be perpetually on the verge of passing out from lack of sleep. After the class greeted him, everyone sat down.

“Teacher, which class will Shum Deil go to?” someone asked.

The teacher answered without much interest. “Class D.”

“Why Class D?”

“Because he’s a science class student.”

“Who cares about that?” someone rebuked, “Teacher, is it true that he was held in custody?”

Soon, others called out their questions as well, and the din intensified. The head teacher held a hand to his forehead, then pinched the bridge of his nose. He knocked on the podium a few times. “Quiet down. Ask him yourselves if you’re that curious. I’m not going to talk about this now, taking up class time.”

The students let out disappointed grunts.

After they settled down a bit, the head teacher clapped his hands. “Now! As you all know, it’s time to have our consultation about your further education choices. I’ll consult five people every day, starting today. Everyone, come to me after classes in order of your class number. Number one: Hoh Saering.”

Another wave of grunts.

“Settle down. Today we’ll resume where we left off last time. Open your books on the latest chapter, the lesson’s topic...”

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At recess, Sae had to collect everyone’s notebooks and take them to the teachers’ office. Even though he was not the class rep, the English teacher liked to entrust trivia to him from time to time; collecting or handing out papers being one of them. In all honesty, the task was unpleasant and a pain, but Sae did not have a strong opinion about it. He methodically went over each desk, reaching out his hand and waiting for the kids’ cooperation.

“I spoke to Susu next door and she said Shum Deil didn’t say a thing other than his name all morning,” the girl with long, deep chestnut coloured hair pointed to the classroom at the end of the hallway: Class D, science class II.

“Do the kids fear him?” Someone wondered aloud.

“What’s there to fear?” jeered Teo, his pale eyes radiant with defiance. More and more students left their seats and navigated to this group. “It’s not like he did anything good to get here, and you all are ready to treat him like some celebrity.”

“Bold of you to say this, when last week all you did was talk shit about him!”

Teo gave a bellowing laugh. “Hey, who said that?” His leg swung back and forth over the edge of the desk and he very much enjoyed the attention. “It’s not like I said any––”

“Teo, your notebook,” Sae called over. His voice wasn’t very loud, but it was crystal clear. Maybe it had to do with how equally self-assured and collected he sounded in every situation.

Teo jumped from the desk, “Coming.” Although he left, the makeshift little crowd lingered, gossiping.

“Sae, what do you think?” Teo rummaged for his notebook in the book basket of his desk. There were books and notes on and under it, and all around its perimeter.

Sae patiently waited, but hearing this, he raised one of his eyebrows. “About?”

Teo looked up, surprised. Wasn’t it obvious? “The transfer student, Shum Deil.”

Is there anything to think about? thought Sae. Outwardly he said, “Nothing.”

“You think you could take him on?”

Sae sighed, growing a bit impatient. He stretched out his hand, “Teo, the notebook.” His intention was not to waste time chatting.

“OK. Here.” After Teo handed the notebook over, his hand made a few slicing motions next to the tip of Sae’s ear. “You’re this much taller. I think you’d definitely take him.”

Sae silently looked at him, eyes unfathomable.

“Teo!” The long haired girl called. When Teo looked back, Sae had already moved on.

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“So you’re going to stay in the district? M High,” the teacher repeated somewhat solemnly. He looked from the career plan questionnaire in his hand to the screen of his computer. "That’s a foundation school."

Sae's eyes swept through the teacher's desk. Every teacher had the same kind of cubicle styled space with a glass topped desk, a laptop, and filing boxes. Some tables had a few pictures or other personal objects cluttered around. Laid out in front of Sae on the desktop were several guidelines about the admission process of prestigious high schools. They specialised in foreign languages, science, and arts.

He glanced at them without touching, curling his fingers into a fist. Sae raised his eyes to his personal file opened in Word. Currently, he was sitting on the left side of his teacher, so both of them could see the computer screen.

The head teacher scrolled down some. “You could aim higher than this, no? You're first in class, first in humanities...”

But not in the whole year.

Sae's foot bounced up and down in quick succession. He was a bit sleepy, already bored and wanted to head home.

"I see you went to a few competitions and maintained first place almost all semesters. You never caused trouble, don’t have any demerits...Tell me, why do you want to go to M High so badly?"

"They have scholarships," replied Sae, plain and simple.

The head teacher's lips settled into a thin line. "If you're going for special admission, well, doesn't everyone have similar grades? How about you try taking the entrance exam? You're smart; you could get into any prestigious high school with ease. Think about it... a better high school ensures a smoother ride for university. Not to mention you could carry on H Junior High's high values."

Ahh... So it was all to boost H's reputation? No wonder the teacher who never paid extra attention to him zeroed in on him so firmly, all of a sudden.

"You could soar up however high you want. Isn't it a shame to waste that potential? Don’t you know what you want?" The head teacher tried to encourage him with a smile.

Sae's foot stopped. "Teacher, I'm––"

"Alright alright. You know what? I'll talk to your mother,” the man said, “Bring her in and we'll talk this through."

"No," Sae objected, “She can't come in.”

The teacher seemed a bit flabbergasted. Sae could imagine the thoughts coursing through the man’s head. Wasn't this about the child's future? What parent would decline an opportunity to listen to the head teacher’s advice? That was, essentially, the school’s stand on a child’s prospects in the future.

He tried to dampen his tone, explaining, "She's working."

The teacher waved his hand. "I'll call her."

Hearing this, the boy jolted forward. Stop.

The teacher searched for his mother's number, then checked his watch. He did not catch Sae's unusual demeanour.

In the end, Sae didn't actually grab the phone out of the man’s hand however much he wanted to. A student could not act so wilful towards his teacher. He only looked on with a blank expression.

After half a minute passed, the teacher looked up. "What are you still doing? Go on. Tell the next one to come in."

Sae stood up to leave with a small sigh.

"In the meantime," the teacher called after him, "Think about it, okay? Think about what you want. Is it something mediocre, or is it to fulfil your dreams."

Sae stared at the man for a second. He paid his respects and turned to go.

As the door to the teachers' office opened he almost crashed into someone. A boy with bruises on his face looked at him with irritation, his eyes shrouded under different shades of yellowish-brown. The boy was unfamiliar in a sense that Sae's eyes and mind had not gotten used to its contours and features, but familiar in a sense that he immediately knew who the other was.

Shum Deil raised his head to look at Sae with annoyance and an air of arrogance.

They were both in the same year but while Sae qualified as an old-timer in the school, Shum Deil only started out this morning.

Sae's gaze was cold as they stood in a stalemate, neither of them moving out of the way.

It was like a game of nerves to decide which one of them was more stubborn.

The rebellious youth adjusted his posture, standing as tall as he could – unlike earlier this morning when Sae had seen him.

Teo was right, even with Shum Deil's back ramrod straight, his hair could only brush the tip of Sae's forehead. And Sae wasn’t tall to begin with. Continuously waiting for that growth spurt to arrive proved quite inconvenient.

He sighed, indicating that this little demonstration of strength was truly enough. He got the message; the other party should move on now.

But the boy didn’t. Shum Deil trailed his eyes on him, travelling from his forehead to his chin.

What now?

A dark look crossed the other's face and the glare in his eyes turned nastier. He stepped closer and to the side, so his shoulder purposely bumped into Sae while he prompted in a low voice, "Where the fuck do I know you from?"