Ding! Ding! Ding!
The loud sound of the bell echoed through the cafeteria, prompting all the students to return to their classes. Leaman, Xuval, and Jailen left Theodore lying on the floor, his body battered after delivering his final blow. Shiny and Wisley immediately rushed toward him.
"I'm fine," Theodore said, wiping the blood from the corner of his lips.
His eyes, sharp and intense, locked onto the backs of the three bullies walking away. A chilling smile crept onto his face—one that only Shiny noticed.
"Theo, your wounds are getting worse!" Wisley exclaimed, concern flooding his expression as he stared at his friend's bruised body.
"Shiny, you'd better head back to class. Wisley and I will go to the infirmary, so don't worry," Theodore said as he struggled to stand, his body aching all over. If he went home like this, Allita would surely panic—or even cry.
"All right… I'll come check on you later after school," Shiny replied softly, clearly disappointed.
"There's no need. Starting today, it's better if you keep your distance from me," Theodore said, his words cutting through Shiny's heart. He then grabbed Wisley's arm to support him as they walked toward the infirmary. Wisley, a kind friend, helped Theodore along without complaint—though it was clear Theodore was the one who truly needed support.
"Why did you say that to Shiny? She's such a nice girl," Wisley asked, shaking his head. He couldn't understand Theodore's coldness, knowing those words would surely hurt Shiny.
"It's for the best. Besides, I don't like girls who are too nice," Theodore replied curtly as he pushed open the infirmary door, surprising the school nurse sitting at her desk.
"Oh, Theodore again! You're always getting hurt," the nurse exclaimed, hurrying to help him sit on one of the beds. She treated his wounds quickly, tending to both Theodore and Wisley with care.
"All done. You two should rest for now. I'll inform your teacher so you're excused from class," the woman said kindly as she tapped away on her phone, sending a message to the teacher of Class 3-B.
She was one of the good teachers—always ready to help any injured student who came to the infirmary, often breaking up fights and treating everyone equally without bias.
Pain and violence were ordinary things in this school; everything revolved around status. The rich held the power, and the weak suffered. That was why Theodore had always been powerless to fight back. But now, things were different. He would make them pay for every injustice he'd endured.
Theodore sat cross-legged while Wisley had already drifted off to sleep in the bed beside him. He exhaled softly, glancing at his friend who had fallen asleep so easily. Unlike him, Theodore began drawing in the natural energy around him, channeling it into his body—strengthening himself.
After an hour of meditation, he could feel faint energy flowing through his veins. He stood before the window, inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly. His hands began to move in slow, deliberate circles, soon followed by his entire body.
A faint bluish light enveloped him, radiating a cool aura like falling snow. He continued this for nearly an hour, until the sound of the bell broke his focus. Theodore stopped, sat beside Wisley's bed, and nudged his sleeping friend.
"Wake up. Time to go home," Theodore said, gently shaking him.
Wisley groaned, annoyed at first, but soon opened his eyes to see Theodore standing over him.
"Oh, it's already time to go home?" The chubby boy yawned widely, stretching his arms before getting up.
"Let's go!" he said excitedly—but then froze, his eyes narrowing in confusion as he stared at Theodore.
"Wait! What medicine did the nurse give you? Your wounds are gone!" Wisley exclaimed, shocked. He couldn't see a single bruise on Theodore's face.
He even lifted Theodore's shirt slightly to check—and sure enough, the injuries had almost completely vanished. Then he looked at his own body, still covered in bruises.
"This is weird… why didn't I heal like you?" Wisley muttered, pacing the room with a puzzled expression.
"Go home, or I'll leave you behind," Theodore replied calmly. That was enough to make Wisley hurry after him, still mumbling questions Theodore ignored completely.
"See you tomorrow, Theo!" Wisley waved as they parted ways. Theodore merely lifted a hand in response.
He walked a short distance before spotting Allita standing on the sidewalk, reading a book. The girl noticed him and waved cheerfully.
"Waiting for me?" Theodore asked once he reached her side. She nodded cutely.
"How was school, big brother?" Allita asked, studying his face—perhaps wondering where his bruises had gone.
"I should be the one asking you that," Theodore replied, smiling faintly as Allita giggled. She proudly showed him a white paper filled with excellent grades.
"That's a good score," Theodore said, unsure how to express proper praise. Allita pouted playfully, pretending to be upset.
"What? I said it's good. Did I say something wrong?" Theodore asked, confused.
"You're right, big brother. But… you didn't pat my head," Allita said, still pouting. Theodore blinked, surprised, then chuckled softly.
"You're acting like a little kid," he murmured, placing his hand gently on her head and patting it. It was the first time he had done something like that in hundreds of years. "Good job, Allita," he added warmly.
Allita's face brightened, her small smile returning. Theodore sighed quietly; this kind of life still felt strange to him. And when they arrived home, there was no food waiting.
So Allita began cooking—though all they had left was a bit of rice. Lunch, after a long and tiring school day, ended up being plain rice sprinkled with salt. Theodore ate without complaint; hunger was worse than the taste of it.
He looked at Allita, who ate quietly, showing no trace of sadness. This was normal for them. Even now, they had to save some rice for their mother, who was still at work.
Theodore lifted his gaze toward the cracked ceiling, his mind wandering to a distant past. A life of wealth and power. Servants who catered to him. A dining table overflowing with food. And now—look at him. How pitiful he had become.
"I'm done eating. If you need me, I'll be in my room," he said, leaving the table.
He sat cross-legged in his room again, focusing on strengthening his frail body. At least now, whenever he was injured, his wounds would heal faster when he channeled the natural—or rather, magical—energy.
"Is Brother Theo getting tired of eating like this?" Allita murmured softly, gazing at his closed bedroom door.
But there was nothing she could do. No one would hire a child her age for work. And even if someone did, it would be hard labor—something their mother would never allow. The thought of her daughter suffering for a few coins would break her heart.
Their mother too was powerless—a woman who couldn't even provide her two children with proper meals. This was their life: a small family of three, struggling to survive. Allita busied herself cleaning the house until evening, while Theodore remained secluded in his room.
"Is Brother Theo asleep already?" she whispered, glancing again at his door. "I shouldn't bother him," she decided, sitting down to work on her homework instead.
When their mother finally came home, Theodore stepped out of his room to greet her.
"Let me massage your shoulders," he offered gently.
He placed his hands on her shoulders and began to massage them, channeling a bit of his energy into her body—to ease her exhaustion.
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