Five years ago.
The teacher walked into the classroom and just as she sat down, Nahuel made that fart sound as he placed a hand under his armpit and pressed his arm down.
All the children in the classroom let out an energetic laugh.
"Very funny, Nahuel," said the teacher, although from her expression she didn't think it was "funny" at all.
The truth is that twelve-year-old Nahuel liked to be the "clown" of the class. For him, there was only one thing better than laughing and that was making others laugh. However, not everyone laughed at Nahuel's tasteless jokes. Oh no. There were others who wanted to wipe that goofy grin off his face.
At lunchtime, Nahuel was chased through the corridors of the school. the two biggest boys in middle school were chasing him. Frank, a fat and tall boy with acne, and his friend Roger, a wealthy thirteen-year-old boy, massive for his age. Nahuel, on the other hand, was weak, small, and an easy target for bullies.
Little Nahuel ran up the stairs, but Frank blocked his path.
"This is as far as you go, clown," he said threateningly.
"Really? 'this is as far as you go?'" Nahuel replied, "A bit of a cliché, isn't it?"
"What?"
"Frank, you're not very bright, are you?"
Frank gritted his teeth and grabbed Nahuel by the collar of his shirt. Roger went up the stairs, just behind Nahuel.
"He's being funny," said the wealthy boy, "just like he was being funny to us yesterday."
"Oh come on," replied Nahuel, "it was an innocent joke. It's not that big of a deal, guys."
"You called me a meatball with legs," Frank growled.
"And you told me that I should be grateful to have money," added Roger, "because otherwise, I couldn't be successful in life."
"Well, that's all funny, isn't it?" Nahuel smiled playfully, "come on guys, have a little sense of humor. Or is it that your brains don't give you that much?"
Frank stammered something that sounded rude and threw Nahuel to the ground. Roger took advantage and kicked the little boy, several times in the stomach.
"You think you are very funny, clown!"
"STOP! IT HURTS!" Begged Nahuel, but the more he begged, the harder they beat him. He felt like he was short of breath.
Roger bent down and spat in the little boy's face.
"Let's see if you learn to never mess with us again."
Nahuel squirmed and coughed a lot, trying to catch his breath.
Roger and Frank turned and left him lying on the ground. With broken dignity and a little less air.
'I hate being so weak,' he thought.
Later, he was summoned to the principal's office, who scolded him with a frown and words of disappointment.
"Why do you insist on provoking them?" Mr. Brooks asked.
"Roger thinks he's better than everyone because he has money," Nahuel replied, "and Frank steals the six graders' lunch. That's not fair!"
"And you insist on provoking them."
"Sir, shouldn't you reprimand them for hitting me? Did I miss something? Since when am I to blame?"
"Of course, I will reprimand them. But it is useless if you do not learn that peace is on both sides. You don't bother them and they don't bother you. You forgive them and they forgive you."
Nahuel narrowed his eyes. There was something in that speech that didn't seem right. It was as if Mr. Brooks was being hard on him, but soft on the boys who kicked the air out of him.
'Why do schools so so easy on bullies?' Nahuel wondered.
Mr. Brooks was wrong. Nahuel wanted to make peace. He tried to apologize, but Frank and Roger bullied him even more. They beat him almost every day. And what did the director do? Nothing!
Nahuel came to think that he was simply afraid of them or their parents. The bullies were never called into Mr. Brooks's office, nor were their parents.
Julia, Nahuel's mother, had enough one day.
"You're going to karate class!" She told the boy.
Nahuel was not very convinced. Karate? Really? Someone as small and emaciated as he could never fight, no matter how much training he had.
'I was born with bad genes,' he repeated to himself.
But from the first class, she would know a world that she never imagined. One of discipline, self-control, and strength of spirit. He would soon discover that he could fight better than anyone else.
-----
In the present.
Nahuel carried Elian's body on his back. The masked boy had been unconscious for a few minutes. Fortunately, he didn't weigh much.
"Damn, friend, what happened to you?" Nahuel whispered.
Elian responded with some unintelligible babble. What had he said? Was he hallucinating? Having nightmares?
The tunnel seemed endless. Nahuel had no idea where he was going. He just walked aimlessly, looking for some path that would lead to the surface, while he prayed he didn't run into a monster.
"Friend, I need you to wake up. I need you to show me the way out."
Elian mumbled something again. Nathan paid attention.
'Did he just say Katan?'
"Ka… Katan…," Elian whispered.
"Friend, if you want to see Katan again, please wake up."
Nothing. The masked boy remained unconscious. And Yaima? who knew. Perhaps she was already dead. Devoured by that giant snake.
'Damn it,' Nahuel cursed inside. She was so sweet and she was SO scared…and he couldn't do anything. He stood petrified as she was dragged into the darkness.
'I hope she didn't suffer,' he thought, holding back tears and guilt.
"I'm not going to lose you too," he told the fainted Elian, with a determined voice, "I'm going to get you out of here and you'll see your friend Katan again. Yes, you will."
The tunnel took him to a precipice from which a column of black mist sprouted. The mists twisted and rose as if seeking their way out on the surface.
"What the hell?" Nahuel whispered. Did the mists come from inside the earth?
The smell of sulfur was strongest at this point. And for the first time, Nahuel felt that pressure in his chest that Elian warned him so much about.
A roar in the dark broke the silence. Strong footsteps approached.
"Oh-oh…"
Nahuel quickened his pace, skirting the precipice. He came to another cave, which extended through another tunnel. The footsteps grew louder. Something was coming.
"Damn it, we're not going to die here!"
Nahuel stumbled. Elian's body rolled on the ground. And in front of them rose a monster about three meters long. Crustacean legs, lizard head and arms, and a shell on its back that looked quite sturdy.
The boy looked at Elian unconscious, face down.
"Looks like we found the Rokura."