A wide land with a variety of buildings to be seen, in one of its parts, built with many houses ranging from classic to wealthy looking, a young man can be seen walking so calmly.
His hand is swinging gently whilst his other hand is holding the strap of his bag hanging on his shoulder.
He opens his mouth a bit, taking in some fresh air, he closes his lip. "When will I see a new day that has people with different mugs? All of the people that I see every day, all of them are unappealing to my eyes."
An old man riding his bicycle stares at him. He waves his other hand while wearing a light smile on his lip. "Hey, good morning, young man!"
He narrows his eyes without moving them, and the old man's bottom lip drops a bit while his eyes linger on him.
"Just leave me alone," the young man spoke to himself.
A few minutes pass by, and the young man halts in front of a huge building, and many men are attaching a variety of parts to it.
He raises the lunchbox from his shoulder bag and yells, "Tortoise!"
A bald man who's slamming a hammer on a nail looks at the middle-aged man whose body is thin.
He smiles widely while generating deep but loud laughter. "Your arrogant grandson is here, Pedro."
He stands up from crouching in front of a wall with cracks, therefore, he walks toward the young man.
He yanks the lunch box from the young man whose eyes remain calm while staring at him.
"Fool!" he swings his hand towards the young man's head, "I told you to go to the academy!"
The young man blocks his hand on the incoming slap from the old man.
"You still got it! I knew you were going to evade my slap!" the middle-aged man's bored expression brightened up.
The young man brushes his hands against each other while remaining calm.
"Just admit it, you're slowing down and your skin is beginning to look like the folds on my clothes from the laundry." the young man slid his hands inside the pocket of his brown pants.
The middle-aged man looks up and giggles like a man who consumed 5 strong alcohols.
He grabs a rolled paper from his pocket and then points it at him. "Go and prove to them that you're strong."
"This is the 55th time you've given me that application form," the young man grabs the paper from his hand, "your will is high like when you're drunk on my 18th birthday."
The middle-aged man remains laughing while looking up, and then he stops laughing. He looks back at the young man and puts his hands on his waist.
His eyebrows meet as his eyes narrow looking at the young man. "Even if it were my 100th or 1000th time lending you the same application, I won't back down."
"You got a head that is hard as a diamond. Damn, you won't stop, right?" the young man took a deep breath.
The old man slaps his shoulder. "If you enroll in that academy then I will work night and day even if I won't eat the whole day! I will do everything just to give you a future that you deserve."
He gently strikes his grandfather's hand from his shoulder while closing his eyes, and wearing an irritated expression.
"Then eat many meals from now on," he turns around, "I don't want that future, tortoise."
The middle-aged man continues to stare at the young man as he disappears from his sight.
He laughs softly. "Do as you please, stinky head."
The young man ambles until he walks across multiple houses, and then, a slight smile appears on his lip.
"My favorite place, the library," he said.
He enters the establishment by pushing the glass doors. Cold wind touches his exposed skin, and an aroma of flowers welcomes his nose.
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Numerous teenagers are sitting on tables with chairs; their eyes are fixated on the pages of the book they're holding.
He walks toward the counter, and while walking, a thought appears in his mind to which he whispers, "Why are there so many people today?"
He halts in front of the old lady at the counter.
She speaks while looking at him. "You're wondering? It's because the day of the entrance exams of the Central Elemental Academy is arriving."
"I want to rent a seat," he brings out his wallet, therefore, brings out cash, "and when I say "rent a seat" I want my seat isolated from those dreamers."
She quickly moves her eyes at him raises her eyebrow, and gently pulls the money from his grasp.
She inserts the money into the cash drawer and sighs. "Are you not dreaming of fighting for our country? Protecting people?"
He looks straight into her eyes, his eyes full of calmness. "Listen, ma'am, I came here to learn from the knowledge in a book, not to learn from your illogical knowledge."
She stares at him and remains quiet, her hand slowly extending a card at him.
He swiftly grabs the card from her grasp, hence, he walks a bit fast in a certain direction with glaring eyes.
Later on, he's sitting on a chair facing a wall with a desk, and a wall is blocking the person sitting next to him.
"Interesting."
He flips to the 999th page of the book he's reading until he reaches the final page.
"Hey, you're also a fan of reading the life of criminals," a young man rested his back on the desk next to him.
"My name is Jeremiah Nicholas Estrada, how about you?" he leaned his hand toward the quiet young man.
"I believe that name is a sacred belonging of a man," he slowly moves his eyes toward Jeremiah, "and it seems that you know this book. So in exchange for a name, tell me what happened to Christopher?"
Jeremiah raises his hand and points it to the young man's shirt. "Tinta is your name."
Tinta's eyes widen a bit and he stands up and narrows his eyes at Jeremiah.
"But that doesn't answer my–!"
Jeremiah gently pinches his chin while looking at Tinta with twinkling eyes and a smirk. "Cristopher is known as a hero, he was the one who saved multiple people from the criminal 01.
"Ha also ran as a mayor of Manila, and won due to his good deed. But before defeating 01, he grew up in poverty and got a scholarship causing him to study for free.
"With the great opportunity given to him, he pursues his dream of being a policeman."
"Well," Tinta pinches his forehead and remains serene. "why did he pursue his dream of being a policeman? Is it because of his ambition to protect innocent people or is it because of the salary of being one of the policemen?"
Jeremiah tilts his head with a smirk. "Your question is confusing but if I was the mayor back when he thought of pursuing his ambition, then I would have the reason to rise from poverty because I was born to have a poor life.
"Then let me die to be a man who is not poor but a man who bought what I want, especially, the things that my parents desired to have."
Tinta throws his book at him and he raises his hand, hence, he catches it as his body jerks.
Tinta slides his hand inside the pockets of his pants, and he whispers as he reaches Jeremiah's left side. "A loving son. I want you to read that book, Jeremiah, you'll learn more about our mayor."
Jeremiah turns around and all he can see are people walking in different directions.
"Well, not bad," Jeremiah inhales deeply and laughs, "I want to meet you again, strange friend."
The once orange skies turn dark as dots are twinkling on it, along with the bright moon that has the form of a curve.
The thick and short clouds move across the moon but they never distract its light and its beauty to be seen by the naked eyes.
Tinta opens the orange gate of a small house, and he closes it once again. He steps inside the house and is greeted by an aroma of vegetables with pieces of cow's flesh cooked in beef broth.
"Nilagang Baka, your favorite," Tinta sits on the chair facing his grandfather across the wooden round table, "you already worked hard, you should have informed me then I should have aided you."
His grandfather whose eyes are closed while sipping on the warm beef broth, puts his spoon from his lip.
"Cold season is coming in our country, do you want me to serve adobong baboy? Let me tell you this," he points his spoon at Tinta, "there will be a day that I will not be able to make these hot soup meals for you, so just stay quiet and enjoy this meal, stinky head."
Tinta scoffs, hence, he holds the mitten and picks up the rice pot. He puts rice on his round ceramic plate together with the beef broth, cooked vegetables, and some chunks of beef.
His grandfather smiles at him while giggling.
"My prideful grandson just wants to be begged, how awful." he wiped the tears of joy from the corner of his eyes.
"Oh, shut up, tortoise," Tinta sighs, "your meal doesn't have any salt in it, and it has too much pepper."
His grandfather clicks his tongue while looking at Tinta. "This is a sacred dinner, you're not supposed to lie, bad Tinta, bad."
After that day, at noon, Tinta and his grandfather are standing in front of each other. His grandfather stares at him while his left hand is on his waist and his eyes are staring at Tinta's dark eyes.
Tinta narrows his eyes and his eyebrows meet. "Just so you know, I won't enter any academy even if it's not prestigious or not."
"Building the new city hall brings me down every time," his grandfather cracks his neck and back, "seeing you enter the academy will be the greatest and priceless gift that you'll give me."
"You're just growing old, stop giving lame excuses," Tinta told him.
His grandfather grins. "If you would enter that academy then I would buy your favorite book."
Tinta shakes his head. "I don't want it. I would rather read a newspaper than read that book."
His grandfather turns around and waves at his workmates. He turns once again to Tinta and gently slaps his arm.
The grandfather turns around. "See you at dinner."
Tinta remains standing as the seconds go by while his grandfather is walking away from him.
He halts and blinks gently. He turns around to Tinta and says, "Hey, don't miss your grandfather too much."
"Do I care?" Tinta closed his eyes and clicked his tongue.
His grandfather chuckles and makes his step away from him.
"Hey!"
Pedro's grandson's word causes him to stop, therefore, he doesn't turn around but he listens to his grandfather's words.
"Take care of yourself, tortoise."
A smile manifests on his lip while he ambles away.
"I will." he chuckled.