The air was stifling under the blazing sun, not a cloud in sight. The heat seemed relentless, forcing people to take cover under umbrellas or stay indoors altogether. The weather felt like the world itself had turned into a furnace.
But none of that seemed to bother Sakar, an eighteen-year-old boy standing still under the harsh sunlight, staring at a weathered sign that read "Sorella Orphanage." His pale skin didn't even glisten with sweat, as if he was completely immune to the oppressive heat.
Today was his last day at the orphanage.
For the past three years, this had been his home, thanks to the sponsorship of Miss Sorella, the principal of Chicken Head Academy. And now, as he reached the age of eighteen, it was time for him to move on. The academy was a boarding school for promising students, and for someone like Sakar—a mischievous troublemaker—it was a new chance to leave his mark.
But Sakar wasn't thinking about new beginnings. His thoughts were focused on the orphanage he was about to leave. Not with sadness or nostalgia, but with a mischievous smirk curling his lips. After all, this place had treated him with nothing but irritation and punishments.
"Time for a grand finale," he muttered to himself.
Sakar was infamous here, especially among the caretaker ladies, thanks to his unique sense—Sexar. It wasn't a normal sense, not by any means. It was a peculiar ability that tingled whenever something "sexy" was about to happen, like a skirt fluttering up in the wind or an accidental fall in just the right way. This ability had gotten him into trouble countless times, earning him punishments he had long since lost count of.
Just as he was perfecting his plan, Helin, one of the caretakers, approached him, her sun umbrella casting a shadow over both of them.
"You'll get sunstroke standing out here like that," she said sharply.
Sakar turned to her with a sly grin. "Can't feel heat, remember?"
Helin rolled her eyes. "Right. Your strange condition. But watching you stand there makes me sweat just looking at you. Come inside before you get yourself into trouble again."
"I don't get into trouble," Sakar replied, smirking. "Trouble finds me."
Helin sighed, muttering under her breath about "stubborn boys" as she walked away. Sakar followed her inside, his mind already turning back to his plan.
---
Sakar strolled through the orphanage's dimly lit halls, his mind racing with thoughts of his final prank. The task board was his first stop—a large wooden panel near the common room where chores were listed for the week.
He scanned the assignments, his grin widening as he spotted the next day's duty: Bathroom Cleaning – Bella.
"Perfect," he muttered under his breath. Bella was the laziest person in the orphanage, notorious for avoiding chores whenever possible. She wouldn't mind if he stepped in for her—especially since she'd sleep through the entire day if she could.
Sakar made his way to Bella's room, his footsteps barely making a sound on the creaky wooden floor. He pushed open the door, revealing Bella sprawled face-down on her bed. Her long brown hair was tangled, and her oversized pajamas hung loosely off her shoulders.
"Bella," he called softly, shaking her shoulder.
She groaned but didn't move.
"Bella, wake up!" he said louder, giving her a small nudge.
Her head turned slightly, one eye cracking open just enough to glare at him. "What... do you... want?" she muttered, her voice thick with sleep.
"Tomorrow's bathroom duty. Let me handle it for you," he said, his tone overly sweet.
"Sure... whatever," she mumbled, her words trailing off as she drifted back to sleep.
Sakar grinned triumphantly. "Thanks for your cooperation," he whispered before slipping out of the room.
---
Evening fell, and the refectory buzzed with its usual din as children gathered for dinner. Sakar quietly grabbed his tray of food and settled into his usual corner. The meal was as good as ever: roasted angry chicken, dark rice, and a small serving of alarm flower jam.
While Sakar savored each bite, the door creaked open, and Fidan, the head caretaker, entered carrying a cake. It was rare to see desserts in the orphanage, and murmurs of curiosity filled the air as she made her way to the center of the room.
Fidan clapped her hands to quiet everyone and said, "Listen up, everyone! Today is a special day—it's Sakar's last day here at the orphanage." Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she added, "And what better way to celebrate than with cake? I've been looking forward to this day for so long."
The room erupted into laughter, with several of the children mocking Sakar with exaggerated applause.
Unfazed, Sakar leaned back in his chair and smirked. "Glad to know I've left a lasting impression," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Ignoring him, Fidan began cutting the cake and handing out slices to the children. Sakar ate the last bite of his meal and slipped away from the refectory unnoticed. He had an early morning ahead and needed to prepare.
---
With the first light of dawn, Sakar woke up and sprang into action. He grabbed a bucket, soap, and rags, making his way to the bathrooms. He scrubbed the floors until they sparkled, wiped down every surface, and polished the mirrors to perfection. The scent of fresh soap filled the air, and the entire space gleamed as though brand new.
He smiled to himself. "Bella's reputation will never recover," he thought with a chuckle, recalling how she'd inadvertently agreed to let him clean in her place.
Satisfied with his work, Sakar opened the rusty old locker in the corner. The discolored metal left stains on anything stored inside, so no one used it—making it the perfect hiding spot. He squeezed inside and left the door slightly ajar, waiting for the caretakers to arrive.
It wasn't long before their familiar chatter filled the room. Five women entered, laughing and chatting as they prepared for their morning routine.
"Who cleaned this? It smells amazing!" one of them said, her voice full of surprise.
"Definitely not Bella," another replied. "She probably bribed someone to do it."
The group laughed, oblivious to the mischievous eyes watching them from the locker.
Sakar's Sexar tingled faintly as the women began to undress, their robes slipping off to reveal smooth skin and elegant curves. His breath hitched, and he leaned closer to the crack in the door, trying to catch every detail.
"This is paradise," he thought, his grin widening.
But one of the women suddenly froze. She glanced around suspiciously. "Did you hear that?"
Sakar's heart stopped.
"Relax," another caretaker said, brushing it off. "It's probably just the wind."
As the women entered the showers, Sakar sprang into action. He slipped out of the locker, moving quickly and quietly as he gathered up their robes. His preparation paid off—he'd already stolen every spare set of clothing from the laundry room the day before.
With both sacks slung over his shoulders—one with his belongings and the other with the caretakers' clothes—Sakar made his way out of the orphanage. He didn't run but walked briskly, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.
By the time he reached a secluded barn, he dumped the sack of clothes inside, leaving the caretakers with no option but to face the world in nothing but their towels.
He dusted off his hands and continued on his way toward the Chicken Head Academy.
"Goodbye, Sorella Orphanage," he said with a smirk. "You'll remember me forever."
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