Rudra stretched his arms and glanced at the glowing dragon tattoo spiraling down his right arm. The runes embedded in his system had materialized as a stunning, lifelike design. The dragon's intricate scales shimmered faintly under the light, a constant reminder of the power he now possessed. It was undoubtedly cool.
Descending the stairs into the cozy living room, Rudra caught a glimpse of his aunt, Kushina, standing near the wine cabinet. She held a half-filled glass of wine in one hand and the bottle in the other. The soft light of the room illuminated her disheveled state: her auburn hair loose and a little messy, her tired eyes betraying the emotional weight she carried.
Rudra knew she had been struggling. There was an accident a few months ago that took his parents and also claimed her fiancé. Kushina, at only 28, had been thrust into a role she never expected. She was now his guardian, his only family, but her nights were often spent quietly mourning with a bottle of wine for company.
As Rudra approached, her eyes locked onto his arm. Her gasp was audible, sharp, and filled with disbelief. She placed the wine glass down with trembling hands and walked toward him.
"Rudra..." she said, her voice soft but filled with concern. "Is that... a tattoo?"
Rudra blinked and looked at his arm, then back at her. "Uh, yeah... kinda."
Her brows furrowed, and a hundred thoughts raced through her mind. A tattoo? He's only 16! Why would he do this? The answer came quickly to her: he had gotten involved with Shady's friends. He's grieving. Maybe he's trying to fit in somewhere, trying to find solace with a new group and environment, the wrong one...
Kushina inhaled deeply, her lips pressing into a thin line. She glanced at the wine bottle she had been holding, as though blaming it for her inability to see the signs sooner.
Setting the bottle aside, she motioned Rudra to sit on the couch. "Come here. We need to talk."
Rudra frowned, confused but obedient. He sat beside her, his dragon-marked arm resting on the couch. She looked at him with the kind of soft yet stern expression that only someone who truly cared could manage.
"Rudra," she began, her voice low but steady, "I know... things have been hard. Losing your parents, and... everything else going on." Her voice cracked slightly, but she steadied herself. "But you're not alone, okay? I'm here. I'll always be here for you."
Rudra tilted his head, still unsure where this conversation was going. "Uh, thanks, Aunt Kushina. I know that."
She gave him a small, encouraging smile. "That's good. But... this tattoo." She gestured toward his arm. "Why, Rudra? Why would you do something like this? Tattoos aren't something you get on a whim. They're painful. Did your friend tell you to do it so you can fit in the group "
Rudra blinked. "Fit in? Group? What are you talking about?"
Kushina leaned forward, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Look, I understand if you're feeling lost or angry. Maybe you've met some new friends, and they might make you feel better. But Rudra, you have to understand which friend is good and which is not you don't have to change yourself to be accepted by others. You're amazing just as you are."
Now thoroughly perplexed, Rudra stared at her, unsure how to respond. "Uh... thanks?"
Kushina reached out and touched his arm gently, running her fingers over the tattoo. "It's so new. It must have hurt so much. Why would you put yourself through that pain?"
"Um... it didn't hurt at all," Rudra replied honestly.
Kushina's eyes widened. "Didn't hurt? Rudra, I know you're tough, but you don't have to pretend. It's okay to admit when you're in pain. You've been through so much, and I get it if this is your way of coping, but there are better ways. Healthier ways."
Rudra opened his mouth to speak, but she cupped his cheek, stopping him. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears as she looked at him with overwhelming affection.
"Listen to me, Rudra," she said softly. "You're not alone. No matter what happens, no matter how bad things get, I'll be here. There are people who still care about you, who love you."
Rudra froze. He could see the raw emotion in her eyes, the pain she was trying to mask. Her words were genuine, but they left him utterly baffled. What does any of this have to do with the tattoo?
"Uh... okay," he said awkwardly. "Thanks, Aunt Kushina. I'll... keep that in mind."
She smiled, satisfied that her message had gotten through. "Good. That's all I wanted to say."
As she stood up, she glanced back at the wine bottle on the counter. A shadow of guilt crossed her face, and she decided against picking it up again. Instead, she turned back to Rudra.
"And, Rudra?"
"Yeah?"
"If you ever need to talk, about anything, just come to me. Promise?"
He nodded. "Promise."
She gave him one last smile and headed upstairs, leaving Rudra alone in the living room. He sat there for a moment, staring at his tattooed arm and replaying the conversation in his head.
"What the hell was that about?" he muttered to himself.
Still confused, Rudra decided to head back to his room. He had a system to explore, a world to figure out, and now, apparently, an aunt who thought he was in a gang. Life was getting weirder by the minute.
Rudra strolled into the school gates the next morning, feeling somewhat optimistic. His system was coming together, and despite the chaos in his life, he thought he might finally get a grip on things. That confidence, however, evaporated as soon as he stepped into his classroom.
"Yo, Rudra!" one of his classmates hollered the moment he walked in.
A chorus of cheers, whistles, and hoots followed.
"Man, you actually did it?"
"Respect, bro!"
"That's sick! A dragon tattoo? Damn, dude, you're a legend!"
Boys crowded around him, slapping him on the back, giving him high-fives, and shouting praise like he'd just won a championship.
"What the hell is going on?" Rudra muttered under his breath.
The girls, meanwhile, were huddled together, whispering and throwing him glances that ranged from curious to outright judgmental. Some looked impressed, while others just shook their heads in disapproval.
"Such a bad boy vibe. Kinda hot, though…"
"Ugh, boys are so dumb. They think a tattoo makes him cool."
Rudra groaned. All this over a tattoo? He rolled down his sleeve in a half-hearted attempt to cover it, but it was too late. The damage was done every time he rolled it down. Someone rolled it up.
Needing some air, he slipped out of the classroom, dodging questions and compliments along the way. As he turned the corner into the hallway, he bumped straight into a group of students.
"Watch it—" he started, then froze.
Standing in front of him was the student council, led by the president herself.
She wasn't just anyone. Her aura was commanding, her gaze sharp and calculating. She had the kind of presence that made people stop and take notice. Her perfectly tailored uniform and confident posture exuded authority.
"Rudra, right?" Her voice was cold yet oddly soft, a tone that demanded attention without needing to shout.
He gulped. "Uh… yeah?"
Her eyes landed on his right arm, and despite his best efforts to roll down his sleeve, a portion of the tattoo was still visible. Her brow furrowed, and she crossed her arms.
"Interesting," she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. "There's no rule explicitly banning tattoos, but leaving it uncovered during school hours does violate the dress code."
Rudra's stomach sank. "Uh… I didn't know that."
Her expression didn't waver. "Now you do. From this point onward, you're required to cover it at all times while on school grounds. Failure to comply will be considered a dress code violation. Am I clear?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said quickly, feeling like a soldier being disciplined by a general.
"Good." She glanced at the rest of the council, who stood behind her silently, then turned back to Rudra. "And one more thing—keep calm while walking. This isn't a playground."
She turned on her heel and walked away, her council members following like an entourage. Rudra stood frozen for a moment, feeling like he'd just survived an encounter with a lion.
The gossip mill wasted no time.
"Dude, that's the student council president," someone whispered nearby.
"She's so strict, but she's also so cool!"
"I heard her family's super-rich. She could buy this school if she wanted to."
"Yeah, and she's rejected, like, fifty love confessions. Some guys even proposed marriage!"
Rudra groaned internally. High school is so damn weird.
Dragging himself back to class, he resigned himself to wearing long sleeves in this heat. Sure, he could argue, but he wasn't stupid. The president was not someone you crossed, especially when the entire school seemed to treat her like a queen.
Back in the classroom, the chaos resumed.
"Hey, Rudra, what did the president want?"
"Did she scold you? Man, you're so lucky! She actually talked to you!"
"Bro, tell me honestly, did she look you in the eye? What was it like?"
Rudra slumped into his seat, tuning them out. He stared at the tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve and sighed.