Jerry's body lay twisted on the ground, his glassy eyes still frozen in shock. Alex stood over him, chest heaving, red glow fading from his eyes.
"How do you feel after killing him?" Arthur's voice slithered into his mind, smooth and curious.
Alex stared at the corpse, face blank. "I don't feel excited. It's not fun."
Arthur chuckled darkly. "Well—"
"But," Alex interrupted, "it serves him right. He crossed the line too many times."
"Mmm. I assure you, it will become fun, Alex. Once you make it part of you."
"I don't think it ever will." Alex turned away from the body, walked to Raphael, and began untying his chains. When the boy collapsed into his arms, Alex's gaze hardened at the bruises covering his skin. "If I had come sooner… this wouldn't have happened," he whispered, regret heavy in his voice.
Arthur's voice cut through his guilt like a blade. "Is he worth it? You killed someone because of him. Tell me, Alex—does he deserve that?"
Alex's grip tightened around Raphael's limp form. "I don't know if he's worth it. But he chose me as his friend… so I'll act like one. If protecting him means killing—then yes. I'll do it again."
Arthur chuckled, amused. "Very well. I like your spirit."
Alex rose, carrying Raphael in his arms, and left the scene.
He carried Raphael until they arrived at the infirmary and then gently on one as the nurse hurried over.
"You again?" she muttered, eyeing Alex with suspicion before turning to the wounded boy. "Did he get hurt because of you?"
Alex gave a stiff nod.
"I see," she sighed, then examined Raphael. Her frown deepened. "He's lost too much blood. Weak, but alive. With panacea, he'll wake."
"Thank you," Alex said quietly, guilt biting deeper. He lingered at Raphael's side, blaming himself for every bruise.
The door creaked open. Kelvin entered, disappointment written across his face. The nurse looked uneasy, but Alex knew at once why Kelvin was here.
"Follow me," Kelvin said flatly. "The Dean wants you."
Behind the heavy desk sat the old man himself, anger smoldering in his eyes. Beside him stood a student—one of Alex's classmates—his arms crossed, his gaze accusatory.
"Repeat what you told us," the Dean commanded.
"I saw him," the boy said coldly, pointing. "I saw Alex kill Jerry."
The Dean turned his stare on Alex. "Is it true?"
Alex kept his eyes low. "You already know the answer."
The Dean slammed his fist on the desk, voice rising like thunder. "Then explain yourself! Now! Or you will cease to be a student here!"
"Dean, please—" Kelvin began, but the Dean's glare silenced him.
"You brought him into this school," the old man spat. "Because of you, I have lost one of my students!"
Kelvin fell silent, guilt heavy on his shoulders.
But Alex finally raised his head, meeting the Dean's burning eyes. His voice was calm, cold, unflinching.
"Don't blame him. I killed Jerry. Because he deserved it."
"What?" The Dean staggered back, shocked by the bluntness. He sank into his chair, face pale with disbelief. "No remorse… none at all." He slammed his hand down again. "Kelvin, take him away. He will be punished. Severely."
"Dean," Kelvin protested, "at least hear the full story. I'm sure Alex had a reason—"
"Enough!" the Dean roared. "I do not care for excuses! A life was taken under my roof, and there will be consequences!"
Kelvin's jaw tightened, but he obeyed. He led Alex out into the night, silence hanging heavy between them.
Finally, Kelvin spoke, voice low and strained. "You shouldn't have done it. Killing… should always be the last option."
Alex's reply was firm, unwavering. "If I hadn't, Raphael would have suffered again. He would never stop. I only ended it, that's all."
Kelvin sighed, rubbing his temples. "I'll try to speak to the Dean again when he calms down. Perhaps I can—"
"No," Alex cut him off. His eyes were steady, his tone certain. "I'll face the punishment. My father always said we must take responsibility for our actions. I did what I had to. To save Raphael, I'd do it again. A hundred times."
And with that, Alex turned and walked into the dark corridor, leaving Kelvin staring after him, helpless.
Kelvin's hand clenched at his side. His chest ached with something he couldn't put into words—fear, sorrow, a strange fondness he had never wanted to admit. He could only whisper to the empty hall:
"Please, Alex… don't let this destroy you."
But the Dean had already decided. By tomorrow, punishment would fall. And Kelvin feared that if it was too severe, Alex's path would twist into something neither of them could undo.
----------
Raphael's eyelids fluttered, his body heavy as stone. He woke to silence, the infirmary lit only by the faint glow of morning sun spilling through the windows. The first thing he did was look around. His lips parted in a hopeful whisper:
"Alex…?"
But the room was empty. His face darkened with disappointment.
Outside, footsteps echoed down the corridor. He overheard voices as a group of students passed by the door.
"Did you hear? The new kid's punishment is today," one girl said to her friends. "For killing Jerry two nights ago."
Raphael's heart lurched. He stumbled out of bed, rushing to them, grabbing one of the girls by the arm.
"What did you say? Alex—where is he?!"
The girl shoved him away with a glare. "Isn't it because of you? He killed Jerry trying to save you. Thanks to you, he'll be executed. You're cursed! Stay away from us!" She spat at him, then stormed off with her friends.
Raphael staggered back, numb. His chest tightened as guilt crashed over him. So that was why Alex hadn't been there when he woke. Not because he didn't care—but because he had suffered in his place.
Tears blurred his vision, but he wiped them away and bolted. The nurse entered the infirmary just in time to see him rush past, her voice calling after him unheard.
He ran to the Dean's office, but it was empty. Panic set in—where was Alex? He didn't even know where to search. His fists clenched, frustration shaking him, until a calm voice cut in.
"You're looking for your friend, aren't you?"
Raphael spun to see a boy watching him. His face was grim, but not cruel.
"I don't agree with what he did," the boy admitted. "But I can't blame him either. If you want to see him… follow me."
Raphael didn't hesitate.
The boy led him behind the Dean's office, to an isolated house sealed with a rusting metal gate. "No students come here—it's forbidden," he explained. "Two days ago, I saw him dragged inside by the Dean and the teachers. Whether he's still alive…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "Good luck."
Then he left Raphael alone.
Raphael pushed the gate. It groaned open, revealing a room steeped in shadows, lit only by a faint shaft of light from a hole in the ceiling. The smell of blood was thick in the air.
In the center, Alex hung by his wrists, shirt soaked scarlet, skin cut and bruised.
"Alex!" Raphael ran to him, frantically untying the ropes. Alex's body sagged into his arms, heavier than he expected.
"Why… why did you let them do this?" Raphael's voice broke. He knew Alex was strong enough to fight back. Why hadn't he?
Alex's eyes flickered open, bloodied lips curling into a weak smile. "Raphael… you're awake." He coughed, then chuckled faintly. "Don't worry. These little wounds aren't enough to stop me."
Raphael tried to push him back down, but Alex stubbornly rose to his feet. He was worried about Alex, not minding that he was injuring himself the more by speaking when he knew he wasn't supposed to.
"You've heard the news, haven't you?" Alex asked softly. Raphael nodded. Alex's smile faded. "They've branded me a murderer. My parents must be… ashamed, wherever they are."
Raphael's throat tightened, but no words came. He could only rest a trembling hand on Alex's shoulder.
"They'll be back soon," Alex warned, voice suddenly sharp. "Raphael, you need to leave. Don't get caught up in my mess."
Raphael shook his head fiercely.
"I won't protect you when the trouble comes," Alex warned, but Raphael refused to move.
Footsteps echoed outside. A silhouette darkened the doorway.
"Kelvin…?" Alex blinked in surprise.
Kelvin stepped into the room, jaw set. "We're leaving. Now."
"You'll get yourself into trouble," Alex said, frowning.
"I already did the moment I brought you here," Kelvin replied firmly. "But I don't regret it. I made my choice—and I'll stand by it."
Alex's chest tightened. For once, warmth cut through his cold resolve. "Kelvin… thank you."
Kelvin smiled faintly and untied the last of the ropes. Supporting Alex, he led both boys out—only to be met by the Dean himself. Behind him stood teachers and several students, their faces grim.
"Kelvin!" the Dean's voice thundered. His face was flushed with fury. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Uncle," Kelvin said, eyes steady, "I cannot watch you torture him any further. You used Raphael as bait, locked Alex up for two days, and now you plan to kill him. Doesn't that make you the murderer?"
Raphael froze, the words sinking into him like daggers. Now he understood. Alex had endured the punishment—because of him.
The Dean's eyes blazed. "How dare you! Who are you to question me? Kelvin, if you still recognize me as your family, you will obey. Hand him over."
"I'm sorry, Uncle," Kelvin said firmly. "But if you want him, you'll have to go through me."
The Dean's fury broke loose. He raised his palm, light swelling into a glowing sphere. "Last chance. Step aside, or I will strike you down!"
"Do what you must," Kelvin said, standing tall. "I won't hand him over."
The words had barely left his mouth when a sudden force shoved him and Raphael aside. Both stumbled, looking back in shock.
Alex stood where they had been—just in time to take the Dean's blast head-on. The sphere of light slammed into him, sending his body crashing back into the dark room.
"Alex!"