Loma had finally been discharged from the hospital. Today marked his first day of recovery.
Day 1
He dressed himself carefully, every movement reminding him of the injuries still healing. As he buttoned his shirt, Darok leaned against the doorway, arms crossed.
Darok: "Loma… where are you going?"
Loma: "School. I haven't been there for days now."
Darok's brow furrowed, concern flickering in his sharp eyes.
Darok: "You should be resting."
Loma tightened the strap of his bag, his voice steady but soft.
Loma: "Yeah… don't worry. I'll make sure to."
They sat for breakfast. Loma ate quietly, gathering strength in every bite, then rose and stepped outside into the cool air.
On the Way to School
The streets felt different. Quieter. Every step echoed in his mind.
Loma (thinking): I wonder what's happening to the others… Xoza, Vamos. Stay well.
His grip on the strap of his bag tightened as he walked faster.
At School
As Loma entered the gates, students turned. Their greetings carried a mix of surprise and respect. This wasn't the same Loma who once walked timidly through these halls.
Whispers followed him. His presence felt… heavier.
Then—she appeared.
A girl, beautiful and popular, walked straight toward him. Her presence commanded attention, yet her smile was soft.
Girl: "Loma, where have you been? It's been days… and what happened to your hand?"
She reached out, her fingers brushing close to his bandaged hand.
Loma flinched slightly, pulling back with a shy stiffness.
Loma (awkwardly): "We… can't shake hands. My injuries might open up."
She paused, then smiled warmly, her expression glowing with kindness.
Girl: "Oh, it's alright, Lomaa. Oh! I haven't introduced myself properly, have I?"
Loma: "No… you haven't."
Girl: "I'm Tsuriki."
Loma (smiling faintly): "Nice to meet you, Tsuriki."
Tsuriki: "Well then, see you later, Loma."
Her voice lingered in the air as she walked away, leaving behind a warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold aura of the halls.
In Class
The classroom buzzed as he entered. Students went quiet, eyes widening as they noticed the shift in him. He wasn't the same boy they had once mocked.
The teacher stepped forward, surprise softening his face.
Teacher: "Loma… where have you been?"
Loma: "I was sick."
The teacher nodded. "It's okay."
Loma moved to his seat, calm, composed.
Then came the taunt.
Koza: "Oi, weakling."
But the words fell flat.
Loma turned his head, his gaze steady, his presence cold and unshaken.
Loma: "What?"
The single word carried weight. The air shifted. Even without raising his voice, something pressed against Koza—like invisible gravity.
Koza froze, his smirk vanishing. The class grew silent, the only sound the faint rustle of papers.
For the first time, Loma didn't look like prey.
He looked like someone who had endured storms… and survived.
Chapter 62 End