As the sun ascended higher in the sky, it's rays casted a brilliant glow across the landscape, undeterred by any clouds that might obscure its brilliance.
Hidden behind the periphery of a school building, shadows danced along the walls.
"Punch him in the face!"
"Smash his teeth out, I'll pick them up!"
"Let me do it!"
Amidst the rowdy crowd of youths, a circle formed, their raucous cheers filling the air with excitement. Within the confines of the circle, two boys, clad only in their underwears, engaged in a fierce fight, exchanging blows with relentless intensity.
Each strike landed with a resounding impact, the combatants evenly matched in their skill and determination.
Bloodied and bruised, their bodies resembling crimson canvases, the champion stood tall, his ferocity undiminished by his wounds.
Opposite him, the challenger mirrored his tenacity, his own form a testament to the brutal exchange taking place within the circle.
Having forsaken defense, they abandoned all attempts to evade and unleashed their attacks with unrestrained force.
*Bam* *Bam*
The challenger's fist collided with the champion's face, met in turn by a retaliatory blow. This exchange of punishing strikes persisted until...
"Ahhh!"
The champion's cry pierced the air as he launched a devastating punch that sent the challenger crashing to the ground.
The crowd erupted into a frenzy of cheers and heated debates, their attention fixated on the triumphant figure standing amidst the aftermath of the brutal bout.
"C'mon, get up! I used my mom's money to bet on you!"
"If you don't win, I'll lose the kids!"
"Stop being soft and just breathe air!"
Encouraged by the less-than-supportive words, the challenger fought against the pain and fatigue, mustering the strength to rise once more. With determination etched somewhere on his bulging and black-eyed covered face, he squared off against his opponent.
Meanwhile, the champion, though visibly exhausted, maintained a resolute resolve, his unwavering gaze fixed firmly on his adversary despite his trembling arms and labored breaths. His face, was also unrecognizable.
The challenger, meeting the champion's unwavering gaze, couldn't help but let out a laugh of disbelief. "Damn it, man! How are you still standing?"
His words sparked an uproar among the spectators. Some grunted in dissatisfaction, while others expressed amazement, but the prevailing sentiment was one of cheering.
"Asher is the undisputed champion!"
"Omg! That's the 28th person he's beaten!"
"Back to back, even!"
The champion, Asher, his body riddled with wounds, struggled to stand. He let out a sigh of relief and emotionally said "I have no choice but to get up."
His gaze suddenly mixed with complicated emotions.
Ignoring the ruckus of the crowd, Asher reached out to help his challenger to his feet, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder.
"You were formidable, I won't lie."
"Che, don't patronize me. Not only did you fight 27 others before me, but you were also exhausted," the challenger scoffed, clearly disgruntled.
"Wait, doesn't that mean, I'm worthless because I couldn't defeat an exhausted opponent?"
Thinking of this, a despondent expression appeared, beneath the blood and swollen face of the challenger.
"Maybe I'm not so strong or special." The challenger muttered under his breadth.
Two concerned individuals rushed over to assist the challenger, taking him away from Asher's side.
"Feeling like a failure or inadequate is just the result of our own unrealistic expectations. But hey, we're still here, so we've got to keep pushing forward." Asher sighed, observing his palms as he opened and closed them.
"What's that supposed to mean?" asked one of the boys, holding onto the challenger, who looked confused.
As the crowd quieted down, only a few lingering gamblers continued to argue.
"It means don't dwell on it; focus your strength and energy on something productive." Asher's gaze shifted to the distant city, where flying dots darted in every direction, up, down, back and forth.
His eyes then wandered to the clouds overhead, his expression becoming unreadable.
The challenger followed his gaze, curiosity getting the better of him.
"What are you channeling your energy into?"
"Getting my hands dirty,"
Asher replied, his voice tinged with a mix of calm and complexity as he glanced at his own hands, then back at the challenger.
The onlookers, too, turned their attention to the city and then to the clouds, their expressions taking on a strange hue. The rowdy atmosphere had dissipated, replaced by a solemn silence.
An understanding of sorts.
Recalling a disaster that pushed humanity to the brink of extinction. A disaster that still persisted till this day. Most of the onlookers here, had curtain emotions about it.
The place suddenly became silent, you probably might not hear a pin drop, but you could hear a twig break.
"Hey Asher, when you get to Saints Academy, be sure to give them hell." Suddenly a boy spoke up from not so far away, with that, others chimed in.
"Yeah! Do it for us."
"Show them how people from the shelter are just as good as them."
"Yeah! And don't forget about us when you become a big shot in Saint's city."
The crowd began to excitedly cheer.
"Okay! Calm down! Calm down. Don't worry though, that's what I plan to do." Asher assured.
'Growing up, everyone wants to be something big, but reality quickly kicks in and pours cold water all over that flame. Maybe to them, me making it, makes them feel a bit of that warmth again.' Asher thought to himself as he looked at the smiles around him.
"Quick, the teacher's coming! Scatter!"
Suddenly a shout pierced the air, causing the crowd to jolt in unison. A man in a crisp suit charged toward them, his expression contorted in anger.
"Oh no, it's Mr. Scott!"
The crowd dispersed like startled birds, each person veering off in a different direction to escape the approaching authority figure.
Their footsteps echoed as they fled, their bodies trembling involuntarily at the mere mention of his name.
At Netherland Park Secondary School, fighting among students was strictly prohibited, with an emphasis instead on academic pursuits. Despite this, a few rebellious souls occasionally resorted to physical altercations to blow off steam.
Mr. Scott was notorious for his strict demeanor and unwavering adherence to the rules, earning him little popularity even among his fellow teachers.
"Darn brats," Mr. Scott muttered under his breath, swatting away the dust cloud. His brows furrowed as he looked down at the scene before him.
Unbeknownst to anyone, the champion was too fatigued to stand, let alone flee. Asher lay on the ground, knocked down in the chaotic rush.
"Mr. Scott, even from this angle, you look salty." Asher managed to muster a strained smile.
Mr. Scott's expression soured further as he glared down at Asher with a mixture of disdain and contempt. With a flick of his wrist, he retrieved a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the golden boy," Mr. Scott sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Breaking school rules and getting into fights. How do you think this reflects on you or our institution? Perhaps I should have a chat with Saints Academy, have them reconsider their decision about a certain individual!"
"Hmph! I didn't know you cared, but please, don't get involved in my business." Asher retorted, clearly dissatisfied.
"Besides who said I was involved in a fight? I could have gotten these injuries from exercising without stretching, last time I checked, your not a P.E teacher." Asher shook his head and asked curiously.
"Your right I don't care for any of you brats who don't respect the rules." Mr. Scott leaned on the wall and started smoking. "Nor do I believe that stupid excuse."
Asher shook his head and pointed towards his uniform that was hung on a tree, "If you don't believe me, you can look at the data from my uniform, doesn't it track any and all injuries, then sends it to the school interface."
Seeing Asher's smug expression, Mr. Scott gaze turned into sharp daggers.
"Then how do you explain the other jacket and pants located on the floor? Did they just magically appear out of thin air?" Mr. Scott retorted and pointed to the floor, were a dirty pair of clothes were laying down.
"I said those on the tree are mine, as for the ones on the ground, you can check the name-tages. I'm curious to know, who's out there walking around butt naked." Asher smiled and playfully shook his head.
Not realising that he too, was currently naked!
"You think your smart don't you?" Mr. Scott's gaze became sharper.
"But your wrong! You think your better just because you've got a bursary to Saints? In fact your dumb and naive."
"I never claimed to be smart." Asher struggled to sit up against the wall. He could barely move and luckily they were behind a building.
*cough cough*
*Barf*
A husky sound suddenly erupted from Asher's throat, followed by a splatter of crimson that painted the floor beneath. His body convulsed with coughs, each one wracking him with pain.
"On second thought" he managed to choke out between coughs, "Maybe you do care. Mind calling the paramedics?"
As the adrenaline began to ebb away, a tidal wave of agony surged through Asher's body, causing him to clench his fists and grit his teeth against the pain.
"Hmph," Mr. Scott snorted derisively.
"Why bother with a doctor when you were just doing some light stretches, right? Perhaps I should summon the P.E. teacher." he added, popping a mint into his mouth with a self-satisfied smile.
Asher's laughter rang out bitterly, punctuated by another fit of coughing.
"Your student is slowly dying, yet you couldn't be bothered to help, how unbeffitting of a teacher." he rasped, his eyelids growing heavier as consciousness slipped further from his grasp.
"I'm not claiming to be the best teacher," Mr. Scott said, turning to leave.
Without a parting glance, he added, "I wonder how you'll survive there with your mindset."
Asher watched him disappear around the corner.
"Maybe I was wrong," he muttered before passing out.
Robotic paramedics swiftly arrived, lifting him onto a stretcher, with effective synchronized movements.
...
After an unknown amount of time, Asher woke up in the school infirmary. Looking at the familiar ceiling, he couldn't help but sigh. Recalling the countless times he had woken up here.
He slowly got up. The previous fatigue, and injury on his body had disappeared, like they never existed before, even his swollen face was partially back to normal. But the throbbing pain lingered as proof of the past.
Except for the dirt, blood and a few lines on his body, he was completely fine.
With the advancements in technology, medical science had taken a tremendous leap.
On an extreme level, so long as a person's vital organs remained intact, they could be restored to peak health conditions with minimal complications, but that also depended on a person's wealth.
"I'm wearing a nurses outfit am I not!" Ms. Lyn instantly went into a fit of rage, and started hitting Asher with the blanket but there wasn't any power in her attacks and they weren't meant to harm him.
As Asher glanced around the empty room, his eyes fell upon a blond, middle-aged woman with an expression of irritation directed squarely at him, a wet blanket clutched tightly in her hand.
It was evident from the slightly murky water that she had been using it to clean him up.
With a sheepish smile, Asher addressed her, "Ms. Lyn, what are you doing here?"
"I'm wearing a nurse's outfit, aren't I?" Ms. Lyn retorted sharply, her anger palpable, as she launched into an assault, using the blanket to deliver half-hearted blows in Asher's direction, lacking any real force or intention to harm.
"I was worried sick about you. They say you fought over thirty people, and I've already healed most of them," Ms. Lyn exclaimed, her grip tightening on Asher's shoulders. "Do you know how much effort I had to put in to heal you this time?"
Her concerned tone caused Asher to lower his head slightly, and he found himself enveloped in her embrace as she whispered softly, "Who's going to take care of you when you go to Saints Academy?"
"I'm sorry for worrying you," Asher murmured, his voice tinged with remorse.
"Then stay and don't go. Scott says it's a dangerous place." Ms. Lyn pleaded.
"You know I can't stay, I must go." Asher replied, his resolve unwavering despite the concern etched on Ms. Lyn's face.
"...."
The room fell into a brief silence as the two figures parted.
"You know, Ms. Lyn, among the young teachers, you and Mr. Scott would make a perfect match," Asher interjected with a sudden smile, attempting to lighten the mood.
"Hmph! Don't talk to me about that un-romantic man!" Ms. Lyn retorted, her irritation evident. "You know, I tried starting a conversation with him this morning, and you know what his response was? He said, 'Don't ask me stupid questions about the weather; if you cared, you'd just look up.' And then he proceeded to..."
Ms. Lyn's mood shifted as she launched into an animated complaint.
Asher regarded her with a gentle smile, feeling some of the weight lift from his shoulders as he listened to her vent.
"Maybe you have to be direct with him; you know how stubborn he is," Asher suggested, his tone light.
"Hmph! He's the man; he should be trying to speak to me. He's just as stubborn as you," Ms. Lyn retorted, her agitation subsiding as she settled onto the bed.
She remained silence before softly inquiring,"When do you plan to leave?"
"Tomorrow morning,"
Silence hung in the air, enveloping them both in contemplation....
"I promise I'll come back to visit." Asher assured, shaking his head and attempted to get up, but...
"Wait why aren't my feet working?" Asher exclaimed.
"It must be the fluid again, sit tight, I'll go fetch the healing epipen." Ms. Lyn responded swiftly, springing into action before dissapered into the backroom.
Beacuse medical science improved didn't mean it was affordable.
The school was still new, and didn't have enough money, the supplies they bought were of the lowest quality and sometimes they had gone past their expiration dates, so there were often problems.
Ms. Lyn entered the secret code and cold air rushed out, walking past the empty shelf, she arrived in front of medical tray with colourful syringes.
After swiftly gathering what she needed, Ms. Lyn returned to the ward, only to be surprised by Asher's absence.
His bed lay neatly made, devoid of its occupant.
"That little runt tricked me," Ms. Lyn muttered, her frown deepening as she spotted a small bead on the pillow. Retrieving it from the bed, she checked her pocket and confirmed that it was indeed hers.
Curiosity piqued, she activated the bead, and a holographic screen materialized, depicting the image of Asher rising from the bed just after she had turned around and left the room. It was as if by some miracle, Asher had regained his mobility in an instant.
"Ms. Lyn, don't get mad at me, but I'm actually leaving today, so there's no need for you to come tomorrow. Don't worry; I'll take care of myself properly and be sure to visit," Asher's voice resonated from the holographic screen.
In the projection, Asher straightened the bed and delicately placed the bead back on the pillow.
"I wanted to say thank you for looking out for me all these years, and I wouldn't be who I am without you!" Asher bowed respectfully towards the hologram before turning it off.
The school was often a harmonious place, with minimal issues. However, sometimes problems manifested themselves in more intangible ways, mostly affecting mental health, a problem that didn't discriminate and was extremely contagious.
Luckily, Ms. Lyn was the beacon of positivity, always there to brighten someone's day, even when they didn't realize they needed it..
Ms. Lyn quickly glanced out the window towards the school gate but found no one in sight. She folded her arms across her chest and scoffed, "Che... Who needs your thanks."
Despite her words, a subtle smile crept onto her lips, accompanied by a faint blush and a sense of pride that she couldn't quite suppress.
....
At that moment, Asher strolled down the clean yet weathered street, exchanging greetings with the familiar faces he encountered along the way.
A few years prior, when disaster struck. The once bustling city had been overrun by monsters.
However, through luck and perseverance, some managed to survive. A small shelter was hastily erected on the outskirts, providing refuge, while the city underwent a painstaking cleaning and rebuilding process.
As the years passed, the new city began to take shape, slowly rising from the ashes of it's former self..
Different from the past, everyone was friendly in their interactions. Maybe it was due to shared trauma? Or shared hatred for the enemy.
Finally, Asher arrived in front of a church-like orphanage, stepping into the empty yet immaculate halls. He made his way down the corridors, each step echoing faintly in the quiet space, until he reached his room.
Grabbing the black plastic bag containing his belongings, he cast a lingering gaze around the room, memories flooding his mind with nostalgia. After a few moments of reflection, he made his way out the back of the orphanage and into the open garden beyond.
Standing amidst the tranquil greenery was a middle-aged woman with long, fiery red hair and a striking beauty that mocked the few wrinkles adorning her face.
"Is it time for you to go?" the woman inquired, her voice calm as she continued tending to the garden, her expression showing no emotions.
"Yeah, in a few minutes." Asher replied, he walked past her and approached the towering tree at the edge of the garden.
There were punches and kicks scattered across the tree's surface, looking freshly engraved.
Asher ran his fingers across the bark and remarked, "I'm surprised you didn't heal the tree this time. I thought you hated these."
"I hated you making them, not them per se," the woman clarified, setting down her watering kit and joining Asher. "Besides, they may be your last in..."
Although she didn't finish talking, Asher vaguely understood the subtext of her words.
Asher and the woman ventured deeper into the forest, passing by similar trees devoid of markings, until they reached an older-looking tree.
This tree bore the same "engraved marks", though they appeared older and were smaller in size, resembling the handiwork of a child..
Asher approached the tree and rested his head against it's trunk for a moment before stepping back.
"How did the fight go?" the woman asked, breaking the silence that enveloped them.
"It was okay," Asher replied, turning to face her but avoiding eye contact.
"You're very terrible at saying goodbye," the woman remarked gently, bringing her hand to Asher's face, urging him to meet her gaze.
Her hand glowed with blue light and a stream of water floated towards his face and quickly cleaned it, revealing his face.
This was truly unscientific.
Asher had large hair, cut in a fade. A burnt mark the shape of a hand was plastered on the right side of his face. His looks were average at best.
His charm though, laid in his heterochromia iridum eyes, and a mature stare that couldn't be imitated and could only be acquired through hardships and time.
Heterochromia iridum was a condition in which the coloured part of the eye (iris) is multicoloured. His left eye was salty white, meanwhile, his right eye was only half salty white and half brown.
The woman's hand, glowed with a green light and the small scars on his face dissapered. Leaving his skin, tender and smooth, except for the burnt scar on his face.
Asher's body relaxed, the pain in his body slowly disappeared. He hugged the woman and quietly whispered, "Thanks!"
*honk honk*
Suddenly, the honking of a car came from the front of the orphanage, interrupting their moment.
" I have to go, i-"
"It's okay go, and your too gratful, you don't have to thank me all the time." The woman broke from his umbrage and said.
Asher smiled and quickly turned around and left.
The woman's deadpan face slowly broke, as concern became noticeable, "Remember what I told you, use incomplete magic and think twice before you act...."
She wanted to say something else but stopped when he waved at her.
She sighed with complicated emotions watching his back disappearing into the orphanage.
[DING]
An annoying chime sounded in Asher's head as he looked at a transparent holographic screen in front of him, that only he could see.