Chapter Four.

Damian frowned as he left the bathroom cubicle, which had taken him a good twenty minutes to reach. All this time, Chris kept the secret of where they were going, and the boy thought it was something really interesting. Now he wanted to give this guy a bite on the leg. 

"Mian-Mian, why is your little nose turned up?"

“You lied to me!”

"I didn't lie," Chris smiled. “

“How can a school bathroom be an interesting place?!” the child was indignant. “You are just a terrible person. I no longer want to communicate with you.”

Chris just grunted at that statement, continuing to walk slowly down the hall.

“And I don't force you to communicate with me, but, listen, you are really a cruel fellow ...” the guy spoke slowly.

“What?”

Damian stopped, and when Chris didn't react, he had to walk again, and even run a bit to catch up with the boy. Damian clung to his shirt, and since he was still short, the hem popped out from under his pants where it had originally been tucked in, and Chris beside him clucked his tongue, still pausing.

“Well what are you doing?”

“Why am I cruel? Damian released his fingers and took a step back as he watched Chris straighten his clothes.

"I treated you so generously," the boy began. “Not only did I show you my beautiful chickens, but I also led you here, to my building. For your information, it is strictly prohibited to enter here for students who do not study here. Oh, and one more thing.”

Chris finished putting on his shirt and walked over to Damian. The boy bent down so that both eyes were at the same height, and then he chuckled softly and flicked the boy's nose, straightening up again.

“I didn't even hit you. You should be grateful to me by now.”

Damian grabbed his nose and rubbed it with his hands. When he noticed that Chris' grip had gone cold in front of him, he immediately took off and ran forward. As expected, this always smiling and obnoxious guy just walked and turned the corner. Damian rolled his eyes at such a rude attitude, but still, as he was worried about the previously said sentence that those who don't study in this building shouldn't be here, the child hurried to catch up with the guy. 

“Why do you want to hit me?”

Chris squinted his eyes down and laughed.

"Need a special reason?"

Damian almost choked with indignation.

“What?! Of course, there must be a reason for this! Are you just a loose dog to beat everyone left and right?”

“Well, that might be it.”

“What?”

“I.” Chris held up a hand and pointed to his chest as he stopped near the entrance to the flight of stairs. “The local bully at this school. My grades and overall academic performance leave a lot to be desired. For days on end, all I do is skip class, arrange all kinds of shenanigans for everyone, wave my fists if a person looks askance in my direction, and in general... I'm the last person here with who you should start communicating with. If you are seen in my company, you will immediately become scum, so, of course, you can continue to drag your tail, but you better stop this business and go to class. Don't be stupid and make the right choice.”

Chris looked at the boy and turned around, starting to go down, jumping from step to step. Damian was still at the top. He bit his lip, not daring to move, but as soon as the top of the older guy's head completely disappeared, he immediately ran to catch up.

“Chris! Chris, stop!”

The boy stopped on the penultimate step and looked at the small child running towards him. Damian didn't have time to slow down in time, or maybe he did, but he wanted to avenge that blow to the nose. Anyway, he stopped just the moment he slammed full force into the guy's stomach, grabbing him by the shirt. The seams cracked dangerously, making Chris frown and show his teeth.

"Stop tearing my clothes!"

“I can't go back to class,” the child replied, lifting her head and blinking.

Chris looked at that sad, lost face and rolled his eyes, pushing Damian, who was clinging to him, up two steps.

“Why all of a sudden? Shit-.. Professor Jasper won't even punish you if you go to him and make up an excuse” the boy replied.

“If I don't go to class, the teachers will notice and will definitely call my parents.”

“You're an idiot, so I'm trying to tell you how to avoid this. Go to class and leave me alone.”

Chris turned 180 degrees and continued down.

“Chris!” Damian went after him. "I need my parents to know about this!" 

“What?” The guy stopped again, and this time the child hit him on the back. “Why do you need this? Do you want to be scolded? Are you a masochist or what? So let me hit you, it'll make you feel better.”

“Do not hit me!”

"And get off me, why are you hugging me?"

Damian just now realized that when he fell, he mechanically wrapped his arms around the guy's waist, so now he stepped away from him.

"Sorry, I didn't do it on purpose."

 

Chris nodded, and the two made it down the stairs without too much incident. Once the first obstacle was behind, Chris, just like the first time, led them through the exit that was next to the canteen. On hot days, this door was always open, so students would often run out into the courtyard and escape classes from here, bypassing the security checkpoint at the main exit. And now, Chris, together with Damian, managed to calmly leave the building without prying eyes, as well as appear in it. As the sunlight hit his face, starting to warm his body, the older boy looked around. Damian saw what he was doing and copied the movement, turning his head left and right like a small mannequin.

“Where are you looking?”

"I'm looking at which tree I'm going to hang you from."

“What?!”

Chris laughed.

“Scared?” the guy left his seat and went towards the exit, where the main gate was. 

As soon as Damian realized that his potential interlocutor would leave him for the remaining hours, he immediately caught up with the young man and stood in front of him, spreading his arms in different directions.

"No, don't go! Then I'll die of boredom!”

Chris grabbed the child by the scruff of the neck and tossed her aside, muttering curses under her breath. Damian flew a few feet to the side, and when he got his bearings again, keeping steady on his feet, he was back at the run after the guy. After three more pitches and stopping like a wall in his tracks, Chris wanted to scream and really punch that childish, insolent face. He literally told this kid that he was a bad person and that he shouldn't even be around him! So why the hell is Damian attached to him like a leech?! 

The boy growled.

"Chris, don't go away!"

“I'll freak out.”

“Chris! Tell me more about Professor Jasper! You seem to know a lot about him.”

“Then.”

"Tell me who you've already defeated! I need to know what's bothering you so I can dodge it in time!”

“You're literally bothering me right now.”

“Do not go away!”

“What are you doing?! What else is there to do?” the boy crossed his arms over his chest, stopping in front of the gate, which Damian had already managed to stand right in front of his nose. 

"Well...uh...I'll think about it!"

“No, move out of the way, I need to go to the store.” Chris pushed the boy aside and he hit the metal fence painfully, immediately starting to hiss and rub his injured shoulder. 

Damian frowned angrily and began to sniff.

"It hurts, by the way!"

“I don't care,” Chris shrugged, continuing to move along the fence just outside. 

Damian seemed to be at a crossroads. On one side of him was a school, from which he was not supposed to leave until the appointed time, and on the other, a grumpy guy who not only liked to laugh at him, and in general was not the most pleasant person. Even so, biting his lip and looking at the school building from under his brows, Damian took off and quickly caught up with the boy.

As soon as he reached the guy, he suddenly looked at him and smiled. His hand landed gently on top of the child's head, and his fingers dug into the short, soft black strands, starting to ruffle them in different directions. Damian was very surprised at such a changeable mood, but when his hair was suddenly pulled after such a kind and innocent gesture, he hissed.

“There! What are you doing?!”

The boy smiled and winked at him.

“Shopping time.”

{...}

Chayson stretched in her own chair. All of his muscles were numb and numb from a position that hadn't changed for several long hours, so now, when the man started to knead them, they stretched nicely, and the bones creaked. The chapter was surprisingly easy to write, as Vittorio stopped by his house early in the morning and brought back sketches of various romantic scenes between couples, which he managed to draw at home. 

"Kiss on the rain?” the man was considering the first drawing, and the Italian nearby was nodding his head in satisfaction.

“If you say this isn't romantic, I'll be very disappointed in you.”

"No, not really…" Chayson scratched her head and took the cigarette out of her mouth, stubbing it out in the ashtray, leaving the cigarette butt scattered among the others. “It's just banal.”

“It's not banal” the Italian was indignant. “Every time I see these scenes in movies, it gives me goosebumps!”

“It's still banal” Chayson threw the drawing on the table, picking up the next one. 

Vittorio beside him snorted and rolled his eyes, starting to twist the older man's words.

“Mi-mi-mi, it's still banal, mi-mi-mi .”

“You know I'm not deaf?”

“...”

"What is that?” Chayson picked up the last sheet, which showed a school couple under cherry blossoms. “Where did you get that? Have you been reading manga all day?”

“What's wrong with manga?”

"Clear.”

“Hey, hey, hey, don't you dare look at me like that! And don't roll your eyes! Manga is a very sensitive literature. What's wrong with her? And those scenes? Have you ever seen how sometimes an ordinary but detailed drawing can convey the characters' feelings so accurately?”

Chayson rubbed her closed eyelids with her hands and whispered softly,

“Vittorio, manga, but I don't draw, I write text. It's very different, you know.”

“So you write about how two lovers kiss under a cherry tree, how petals fly from a tree and, blown by the wind of love, tend to fly straight into the hearts of their loved ones.”

“I'm going to be sick. Lots of cute phrases, and much more...” Chayson snorted. “Constantly repeating the words ‘love’, ‘beloved’ and ‘in love’ is the worst trait of authors.”

"Why? What's wrong with them?”

“Very cloying, and from there the work seems more childish. And what did you say there? Wind of love?”

“I…I didn't say that.”

“I thought you just said that.”

“You're deaf, you might have guessed.”

The man looked at the Italian and snarled at him in warning, forcing the young man to take two steps away. When Vittorio felt safe in his own skin again, he pulled another sheet from the backpack that had been slung over his shoulder all this time and tossed it onto the table. Chayson took the paper and her gaze turned thoughtful. The man sank into such deep thought that he didn't even notice how the room was plunged into silence for a good ten minutes. Vittorio even walked over again and poked the man in the shoulder, snapping him out of his daze.

Chayson blinked several times as she turned to face the Italian.

“Hum?”

“Why are you paralyzed? Didn't like it either?”

“No, this one isn't bad” Chayson put the drawing aside and clicked on the Word file icon with her mouse, opening a new document. “I'll take you to work.”

“What's the story anyway? Does it have anything to do with historical epochs? I just made this sketch. I'm a bit drawn to old fashioned clothes. It's a shame we stopped dressing like that.”

The man chuckled softly and waved his hand at the importunate Italian, who continued to rub himself on all sides and constantly look at his laptop monitor.

“Go, go, be busy and don't distract me. By the way.”

Vittorio raised his eyebrows.

“How did you get into my house without my knowledge?”

“Ah, so your back door wasn't closed. Tsk-tsk-tsk, Dami's right, you're irresponsible.” Vittorio shook his head accusingly. “That way you can be robbed at any time. And yet, in your kitchen drawer, the biscuits were covered with mold, you should throw them away, otherwise cockroaches will appear.”

“What were you doing in my kitchen drawers?!”

"What? Looking for food, I haven't had breakfast since morning. By the way, as you finish the chapter, maybe I'll draw something else? I liked this case, besides... You have such a lack of romance in your blood, that way you'll never settle down, so I, as a good and caring friend, will...”

"UNTIL!”

"I'm going!”

Vittorio ran out of the office in fear, clutching his heart, which was beating a frantic rhythm against his chest. He did not dare to go back and sensibly decided to wait for the moment when the man cooled down again. He paced around the house, muttering under his breath and humming to himself:

“Mad eater, strict uncle, lives in a dirty house. The dust on the windows is here, and the cat died in the basement.”

Vittorio froze beside the cellar door, and when his hand reached for the handle to open the entrance, the Italian jerked away, looking in that direction in disbelief.

“Fuck,” the guy muttered. Suddenly a cat actually leaned back.

So, while Chayson got to work, Vittorio scoured the entire house, and then he took his notebook with a prepared pen and brought it in his backpack and sat down on the lawn in front of the cottage, starting to make new sketches. When the man finally finished writing, the clock was well past three in the afternoon, and his stomach rumbled, demanding at least a little self-respect and another dash of food and water from above. Chayson walked slowly down the hall, leaving the walls of her office, and when she found herself in the living room, she saw a pizza box, which definitely hadn't been there since morning. He knows. He lives here and although the Canadian spends most of his time working in the same closed space, he still goes to the bedroom where he sleeps, to the kitchen, where he tries to cook and not die of gastritis, which causes his own food, and also in the bathroom for reasons of personal hygiene and natural necessity. And that's why this pizza box definitely wasn't here. This is a strange object that appeared on the living room table out of nowhere. Chayson stepped forward and opened the lid, seeing that a few pieces had been kindly left for him. 

Apparently, Vittorio had been with him for a while, so when lunchtime came around, and Chayson sent a rat to hang himself in the fridge, the guy ordered pizza here and had a bite to eat. The Canadian didn't know if Vittorio was here now, or had already left, but the house was quiet enough, so Chayson decided to go out onto the porch and finally make sure the guy wasn't there.

When he ended up in the hallway and poked his head out the door onto the street, biting into another piece of junk food, he suddenly froze, stopping his chewing. Damian sat between Vittorio's spread legs while the aforementioned braided a bunch of small ponytails around his head. Where he got the rubber bands from was unclear, but something else was clear. The child was in a bad mood. 

Damian gestured excitedly as he waved his arms as he continued to speak:

“He is terrible! He is simply disgusting! And not only did he ask me to get all those goods and tricked me into being a thief, so when the guard came to us, he also said that his little brother was mentally retarded!”

Vittorio chuckled softly, trying his best not to pass for the child.

“What a strange guy.”

“He called me a retarded brother! And he also laughed at me all the time!” the child cried. “I won't forgive him for anything when he comes to apologize tomorrow! He's terrible!”

“Who are you talking about?” Chayson spoke at length, approaching the two and squinting against the strong sun.

Damian jerked his head up, and when Chayson saw his head completely covered in tiny ponytails, he broke down and covered his mouth with his hand, starting to laugh. Vittorio turned the same way, laughing into his palm. Damian turned his head from one to the other in surprise. Gradually, his confusion began to give way to anger.

"What? Why are you laughing at me?!”

“Damian, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, Damian” Vittorio started to wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes as he continued to laugh. “Ohhh, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Damian, I'm sorry, but you look so cute with that hairstyle!”

{...}

Louis was very surprised to hear his son knocking loudly at the door early in the morning and then mumbling in the hallway. He came out of the kitchen and saw that Damian's bag was in the hall, and the boy himself was taking off his street shoes. When the little one finally straightened up and looked at his father, Louis couldn't help but laugh out loud at the sight of all those ponytails. Damian's mouth opened by itself.

"Dad!”

"HAHA HA! Charming! Ha-ha-ha-ha! Who made this? Ha-ha-ha-ha! Wait, wait! Don't take them off, let me take your picture!”

"No photos! I won't talk to you all anymore! You are all traitors!”

“Damian, don't run away, come to me. COME HERE!”

"I am not going!”

Louis turned on the video and began filming his son running away from him, undoing his hair and throwing the rubber bands on his head to the ground along the way. He thought Vittorio was just giving him a head massage. The boy loved it when his hair was touched, he, like a real cat, literally clung to these touches, and all his life, when people knew him, their own hands reached out to stroke him on the top of his head. But he didn't expect Vittorio to do that.

“Damian! Damian, you are so cute, don't take it off. Let's show mom!”

"I don't want! Leave me alone!”

“Ha-ha-ha-ha! I should have done this to you earlier. And how come we didn't think of that?”

Damian took off the last elastic, untied the rest of the ponytail and, head proudly held high, stuck his tongue out at the camera, retreating to his room. Louis, still laughing, went back to the kitchen, sending this video to his wife and getting a bunch of laughing emojis in return.

The next day, the weather began to deteriorate from the morning. There was no trace of yesterday's bright sunny light. The entire sky was covered with a monochrome gray haze, which slowly stretched and hung over the entire city. Damian stood on the porch and carefully examined the grass beneath his feet. The wind picked up and shook the dew-covered blades of grass from side to side. Victoria ran out of the house, and she and her son immediately went to the car. Damian placed his bag on his lap as usual, fastened his seat belt and looked out the window. 

“Did you bring an umbrella with you? the woman asked.”

"Why? In the morning while I was watching TV they said it would be just cloudy. No rain was promised.”

Victoria looked back, driving onto the road and immediately pressing the accelerator pedal. 

“It's best not to trust meteorologists,” she said. “They say one thing, and then in July it snows.”

“I don't remember it snowing in July.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“So where is your umbrella?”

“I'm in a car and you're walking home. You need an umbrella.”

“I'll put a bag over my head.”

“Damian” the mother looked back sternly. “If we weren't late, I would have made you come home.”

The woman stopped the car at a traffic light and grabbed her briefcase, which was in the front seat. She took some bills out of her wallet and gave them to the child. 

“Here, take this,” Victoria said, turning her eyes to the road. “Buy a temporary umbrella from the store. Not sure if the schools still have spare parts for this case.”

“I didn't see them yesterday.”

“By the way, you still haven't told me about your first day. You fell asleep after dinner, were you really exhausted?”

Damian bit his lip and looked away as he hooked his finger into the strap and turned the neatly stitched fabric between his fingers. If he says that he spent the whole day on his feet, hanging around Chris from time to time, instead of sitting in class and studying hard, then his mother will know about his planned absenteeism in advance. So now, Damian couldn't answer that question. Instead, he simply shrugged and looked into the rearview mirror in front of him, meeting his mother's eyes.

“We run a lot at lunchtime.”

After all, it wasn't a lie. Damian has not yet learned to lie to his parents, but he will really try to succeed in this matter in the future with all his might. 

“Made some friends, huh?”

“He's not my friend,” the child protested, frowning. “He annoys me.”

"Wow. And what is his name?”

"Chris. He is in his third year of high school.”

Victoria whistled in surprise.

“Tell me, what is this strange energy you have?” the woman asked. “Sometimes you literally draw adults to you. Like Chayson, who you yelled at but managed to visit more than once. Like Vittorio, who randomly picked you up on the street. And you met Chris at school... You didn't like anyone in the class and you spent more time talking to a high school student?”

“Nate is a nice guy, I liked him” admitted the child, watching them go to school. “He has a brother, his name is Oberti. He is two years younger than him.”

"Wonderful.”

“Oberti is in my class, I don't like him. He doesn't speak and his expression doesn't change. This is strange.”

“Wait, you said Nate..”

“He's a sophomore in high school and he told me to call him if something isn't clear to me.”

Victoria closed her eyes with a sigh. She hoped that Damian could improve relations. Of course, there was nothing wrong with the fact that he was able to speak and find a common language with those who are older than him. But still the child will have to learn separately from these people. And in the end, classmates are the people you cross paths with and spend the most time studying in class. Damian can be friends and communicate with whomever he sees fit, if they are good people, but he must also pay attention to his roommates.

Victoria parked the car, turning to her son and waving her hand.

“Go well in class, okay?”

The child nodded and, without opening her mouth, waved back at her mother, leaving the car and slamming the door. It didn't take long for the car to pull away and pull out of the small parking lot, disappearing around the corner and out of the school grounds. Damian has been hanging around this whole time and taking care of him. Around him, people began to gather who were in a hurry to enter the school building as quickly as possible, as the class started in five minutes. If Damian were in his position right now, he would probably also run as quickly as possible to the balcony and the locker room, but since he wasn't going to start studying here, he just kept standing there. The boy calmly transferred the bag to his other hand and slung the strap over his left shoulder. 

He also began to look around intently. In fact, the fact that he met the brothers yesterday was much worse than the fact that he started communicating with Chris. The fact is that Chris himself admitted his bad reputation and added information that he was an avid loafer. Therefore, Damian's not attending classes was beyond the boy's reach. But the same Nate and Oberti were diligent students and spent the whole day in class yesterday. They've seen Damian in person. They know his name and what grade he's in. If they see you here now, they will certainly raise questions. Especially with Oberti. They must be in the same class, and the boy knows Damian didn't come to class. There is a possibility that he didn't tell his older brother about this, but there is no possibility.

Damian should have been more careful and exercised extreme caution, which is why he carefully examined all the faces of the people who passed him. He has excellent eyesight, so he will be able to notice the brothers from afar and immediately rush to escape. Nate won't follow, and Oberti will just see that Damian is going somewhere. And this “somewhere” can have different directions. Maybe Damian will go to the locker room. Or Damian goes to the bathroom. Damian came to school anyway, that's a plus. 

He couldn't not come because his parents didn't know about absenteeism, but Oberti isn't privy to the details of his brilliant plan, so Damian has everything understood and thought of in advance.

When there were two minutes left on the boy's phone display before the start of classes, Damian put his cell phone back in his bag and walked calmly to the main entrance. Just like yesterday, he threw his things into the closet, closed the door, and as soon as the bell rang, he was already past the guard post, bending over and crawling under the bottom of the rotating handles, and ran out into the street, inhaling the fresh air with a full chest. 

{...}

Damian stood at the side of the schoolyard. Where there were benches and a small gazebo. Damian took the book Vittorio had given him yesterday when he found it in front of his neighbor's house and opened it to see the pictures. What is manga and how to use it, Damian knew and heard. At some point in his childhood, when he and his parents went to the bookstore to buy textbooks for the start of the school year, Damian had to go to school for the first time. Louis and Victoria began to argue near the booth with foreign language textbooks, and at that moment their son noticed something much more interesting than hitherto incomprehensible letters, which generally differed from the teachings of the Russian language and usual traits that his father taught him to to write. Damian got distracted and started looking around. And there, at the very end, was a shiny display case, which was completely filled with very funny books. Each of the books had images of different content.

Damian fought off his parents and walked over to get a better look at his discovery. Several other people were beside him. Two girls who wore light dresses and said something excitedly. They were holding in their hands one of the books they had taken out of the window. Damian looked at the cloaks that were here. At the top were three issues. They were attached to small metal brackets, long and thick, that barely fit in them. They stood in line. All were different colors. The first one with a blue cape. It showed a girl. She also had ears on her head and several tails were visible behind her back. Damian is not the greatest lover of ancient culture and he remembered little of the information they tried to convey to him when he once visited the museum with his parents, 

It is always easier to memorize what you are interested in, and not what they are trying to teach you, because it is necessary. He was once watching a movie on TV with his parents. There was a similar character. He wore a white wooden fox mask on his face, kimono sleeves fluttered on his arms, and nine white fox tails were visible behind his body. He always kept a sword with him, which hung from his belt, and he almost immediately rushed into battle with it. It was Kitsune. Or, to put it simply, the Nine-Tailed Fox. Damian also heard someone in this movie call this creature a Youkai. Later, while watching other similar films, the boy heard the word Youkai many times and in relation to completely different beings. Therefore, it was precisely these foxes that he simply called Kitsune in his head. This girl on the cover of the book looked just like this specimen.

Damian furrowed his brows thoughtfully and looked at the next book. If the first cover was in calmer colors, this one stood out against the background and was bright red. In the middle was a man in old clothes. This is no longer used. He was dressed in a robe, held a flute in his hands, his eyes looked straight ahead, as if looking at the very one who was going to buy a book in which he was depicted. 

The last book in this row was white. And Damian was interested in her. The characters depicted in it were the most familiar to him. Just a schoolboy in uniform and a guy next to him. The child immediately lowered his eyes and began to look at the copies spread out and stacked in neat piles. All of them were arranged so that the books that were on the shelf at the top were clearly above them, so that it was more convenient to take with you. So, approaching from the right side, right where the white book was hanging at the top, Damian found himself in front of many copies of it and he immediately pulled one out. What was the child's surprise when he turned the book over as usual and realized that the authors made a mistake and printed the cover on the back, and not on the front!

Victoria and Louis finally stopped arguing and agreed that both books were worth buying because one was learning English through visual perception and the other had more practical and independent tasks. They found Damian and he was in a very strange state. The couple looked at each other, then looked at their son. Damian was embarrassed and turned the book in different directions, completely confused. How can you read this? Inside there was no familiar text, everything was completely smeared with some pictures and, okay, pictures, they are arranged in such a strange order! Damian still didn't read well, so the fact that there were so many pictures here was to his advantage, but he didn't understand which followed which, because by usual reading from beginning to end and from left to right, it turned out to be complete rubbish. , 

Damian looked up and Victoria laughed.

“Didn't draw it right!”

"You think?” Louis smiled as he crouched beside the boy and turned the comic book, placing it in the correct position. “Damian, it's a manga. No wonder you're confused. In a normal manhua, things are different. Look, turn it over and read from the end. From right to left.”

Damian was even more confused, blinking his eyes and looking at his father as if he had just told him that the Earth was flat. And in all seriousness. Victoria at that moment took a red book from the window and started leafing through it, quickly leafing through the text. When Damian saw that his mother was doing as his father had told him a second before, he decided to try too. Surprisingly, the plot immediately became more understandable. True, not everything written Damian could read. He pointed to one of the pictures and turned to his father.

"What word is this?”

“Come on… let me have a look.” Louis turned the manga slightly to the side, reading what was written. “Oh, he says he's going to school and he's late for the teacher's class. And in this photo is just your teacher. Wait... Where's the cover? Damian... Why did you take this? There is an age limit here.”

Victoria grunted and showed her husband the open page, where a severed head was drawn.

“This isn't a children's read either,” the woman replied, closing the comic and placing it back in the pile she'd originally taken it from. “Damian, if you want a manga, we'll find you one that's decent for your eyes.”

After this incident, Damian's parents bought some picture books, and surprisingly, after reading them, his word recognition improved. Now, sitting in the gazebo and flipping through the pages, Damian held the selections in his hand, occasionally frowning. Vittorio even let him read, but the language here was not so easy for a child. The boy thought through half of the events, guided only by the actions in the illustrations. He did not even notice how they imperceptibly approached him from behind. The wind blew harder, taking other people's scents with it, so when Chris's hand landed on his shoulder, the boy shivered with fear and turned sharply, extending his fist for a blow. 

Chris grinned and stopped such a light attack by grabbing the boy's wrist.

“We haven't seen each other in a long time,” the guy grinned, climbing into the gazebo and plopping down on the bench, shifting Damian to the side. “What are you reading?”

"Hey! Give it back! It's not yours!”

Chris took a book from the table and stretched out his arms so that the child could not reach it. Damian could only scowl and make vain attempts, reaching out with his fingers and gripping the void with them.

“I didn't allow it!”

“I didn't ask your permission,” Chris replied. “You forgot? Tsk-tsk-tsk, Mian-Mian, do you really have a memory like a fish? I asked what you read, and if I could take it in my hands. Have you already forgotten? Do you remember me? What is my name?”

Damian got even angrier.

“Stop acting like I'm an idiot! By the way, we took an IQ test at our last school!” the boy replied. “Of course, the students are never informed of the results, but I was next to the teachers' lounge and accidentally heard the teachers say that I had the best result in my class!”

“And what to be proud of? Maybe you studied among the basses, so you have a good indicator” the guy chuckled, tapping the boy on the nose.

Damian dodged while smiling triumphantly.

“From the fact that you dodged it once, you already look like you're about to piss with happiness. You're funny,” Chris spoke slowly. “So what is this book?”

The high school student finally returned the comic to its owner, and Damian dutifully clutched the manga to his chest as he moved deeper into the gazebo. When he realized that Chris obviously wasn't going to be leaving here for the foreseeable future, he sighed and lowered the book onto the table, placing his hands on top of it.

“I don't know” the boy answered honestly. “Vittorio gave it to me yesterday. I found it in his backpack.”

“Did you know that digging through strangers' things is indecent?”

“Vittorio is not a stranger, I know him.”

“But you don't know what's written here, do you? And you seriously after that are going to prove to me that you are smart?”

Damian laughed.

“Just because I don't know a few words doesn't make me a fool,” replied the child. “Chayson will teach me everything in the near future. But I didn't plan on talking to you anymore.”

“What is it all of a sudden? I did something?”

Damian really didn't understand if this guy was making fun of him, or if it was his murderous behavior to insult people while completely believing they weren't insults.

“Didn't you set me up yesterday?!”

“So who's to blame for you being so naive and walking away with all the products?”

“You said you paid for them!” Damian was indignant. “And you asked me to help carry it.' Who does it?”

Chris chuckled, supporting her cheek with the palm of her hand.

"It is not funny! Didn't your parents teach you that it's not nice to treat people like that?”

The guy still continued to smile, but the look at the mention of his parents turned much colder than before. Damian noticed this, but thought it wasn't surprising. Chris is the local bully. Certainly his family is often called to the director and constantly puts his son on the list. Damian would be more surprised if the guy in front of him right now was joking instead of being angry. Therefore, this change in the elder's mood is a highly expected reaction. 

“Parents… parents…” Chris spoke slowly. “What is their point? Will you always listen to your sweet daddy?”

"Yes.”

“Well, that sucks,” the guy snorted.

“And what's wrong with that?”

“You have your own head on your shoulders, didn't you prove to me yesterday that you're an adult?”

"What does this have to do?” Damian was surprised. “What I hear, what my father tells me, has nothing to do with the fact that I don't have an opinion of my own. My parents never did anything wrong with me so I always listen to what they tell me. But I decide how to proceed. If our opinions don't agree, then I'll do what I see fit.” 

The boy chuckled as he looked at the child. 

“You know, the older you get, the more your views on life will diverge. Stronger will demand something from you. They will want you to conform to the ideals they themselves have drawn in their heads, and gradually you will start swearing. You won't want to listen to them, but they will continue to push you. And even when you grow up, and it seems that you no longer need their care, they will put even more pressure on you. Go to that university. Learn here. Go to the job we've chosen for you. Marry the one we have chosen for you. Give us as many grandchildren as we want.”

Damian frowned and snorted.

“Do you live in the Middle Ages? Who would hate their own child so much? Are your parents that mean?”

Chris smiled and turned around. When his gaze darted away and froze like that, Damian also turned to see what was so interesting going on there, which caught the attention of a high school student. What he didn't expect was that when he turned around, Chris would immediately return to the opposite position, abruptly snatch the book out from under his nose and walk away, fleeing the lookout. Damian froze as his mouth fell open. It took a while for him to come to his senses and understand what had just happened. Everything happened so fast. Damian realized for the first time that he had been ridiculously tricked. And this is the second time! Chris is just making fun of him! 

Damian jumped up abruptly and ran out of the house. His hair was immediately ruffled by the wind in different directions, the boy held his bangs in his hand and narrowed his eyes. Chris stood at a distance from him and, smiling from ear to ear, shook the comic book, with all his appearance inviting him to catch up with him and return the loss to its owner. The little one clenched his teeth, growling softly. It's just a banal tease. The most real and stupid provocation to attract attention, but what else to do in such a situation? If it was his book, he would have spit on Chris and not played those games, but the manga wasn't his. Vittorio lent it to him, and Damian must return the comic intact. So there was nothing left for him to do but abruptly blow himself up and run to catch up with Chris.

{...}

Morning reading lasted no more than forty minutes every day, after which all students were released for a break. Now the corridors were full of different voices, laughter, conversations between colleagues, only about subjects they understood, and occasional comments from passing teachers asking students not to run and not create dangerous situations. It was in such an environment that two angry boys flew. One is older, the other is younger. The first was running and smirking, looking back from time to time, and the second was angry and growling, all this time trying to catch up with the other. Damian was a good athletic performer, but no matter how good he ran, and no matter how well-coordinated he was, he still couldn't compete with someone seven years older than he was. Chris was a high school student. He was well coordinated, he knew how to quickly escape from strangers and bodies that moved towards him in a stream of bodies, and therefore it was not difficult for him to escape from Damian. 

It was obvious he was a winner under the circumstances. And it was also obvious that he started all this - because of his perverted fun! Damian ducked and dodged the other disciples as he rushed forward. And many parted before him. Some were even shocked when they saw Chris running and laughing. When the guy ran down the hall, the students could imagine how he was running away from someone of the senior level again, but what was everyone's surprise when they realized that almost the same age was running after him. Also, this guy was clearly not afraid of a high school student, unlike everyone else. After all, Damian clearly and loudly, snarling through his teeth, shouted after him:

"Chris! Return the book to me immediately!”

"Haha ha! Come get it!”

“Chris!”

Several girls covered their mouths with their hands and pressed themselves tightly against the wall, afraid to see the main bully of their school with their eyes. The same girls were surprised when they saw Damian, noting that they had never seen this boy before. 

So their cat-and-mouse runs and games flowed smoothly from the first floor to the second, then the second to the third. From the third to the fourth, and only on the fifth floor, the system failed. Damian continued to run confidently, dodging and maneuvering between the students in the middle, when he was suddenly distracted by the sight of Nate's face in the distance. That was what made him miss the moving body in front of him and he flew at him with all his might. Both guys hit each other painfully and fell to the ground. The many flyers that were in the hands of the student Damian bumped into flew and fell, scattering on the floor around the two. The boy moaned softly and muffled, heaving himself onto his hands on the body he landed on, and looked into the guy's eyes.

They were blue. Large, gentle blue eyes looked up at Damian, carefully studying his face. First of all, the boy decided to apologize, as he understood that he was to blame for the fact that both collided. But he also understood that he should apologize too because he would probably be yelled at now. If he got hit like that, Damian would definitely scream. But not. The guy on the bottom just stood there and looked up at him with a gaze so intent and searching that Damian involuntarily thought there was something wrong with his face. A second later, the boy realized that it might be because of his eyes, so he exhaled calmly nonetheless, fully standing up and reaching out to another student.

“Sorry, didn't mean to bump into you,” Damian said immediately. “I really didn't do it on purpose. I just got distracted and didn't notice you.”

The boy he knocked down slowly looked away at the outstretched hand and calmly accepted the help, rising to his full height. He was taller than Damian. Not as palpable as Chris and Vittorio, who had to tilt their heads to look at him, but still taller than him. And still the boy didn't say anything to him, just nodding his head calmly.

If it weren't for Chris, whom he had to run after, Damian would definitely have stayed here longer, helped collect all those flyers that fell because of him, and would also have clarified if this guy was stupid, why he was so foolishly staying in silence and looking at a person is a very strange thing to do. It is scary. But Damian had to leave. Also, he remembered that Nate was somewhere close in this hall, it was too dangerous to be here and further away. The boy apologized once more, nodded and left, starting to run without looking back. 

The boy turned, following him with a thoughtful gaze, and then a strange hand fell on his shoulder. As soon as the guy turned around, he was face to face with Nate.

“I went into the classroom to hang up our recruiting notice, and when I came back, you had fallen?” the boy smiled softly. "Nikolai, what happened?"

Nikolai blinked out of the daze he'd slipped into moments before, and foolishly turned, looking back down the hall. 

“It seemed to me that...”

At the same time, Nate bent down and, carefully placing his stack of posters to post by class, began picking up the fallen ones his classmate had dropped. Without hearing the end of the sentence, Nate continued to speak for his friend:

"What did you think? Anything important? You usually get a lot more excited when someone bumps into you.” Nate chuckled, lifting his head. “By the way. Who was that? I heard people whispering that Chris was running around. Was he running away from someone from high school? Have you been bumped by a delinquent? Did you really like him so much that you lost the power of speech?”

Nikolai slowly turned to face his friend and cocked his head to the side.

“Mmm, I'm sorry… What did you say?”

Nate smiled as he rolled his eyes.

“You seem to be completely confused. Let's collect these pieces of paper otherwise someone will step on them, and we tried so hard to make them yesterday after school.”

Nikolai held back and finally came to his senses. The blonde immediately nodded his head confidently and spoke softly:

“Exactly, flyers. Oh, Nate, we still have to go to the senior building. I'm sure there will definitely be someone who wants to join our group. He's new and we're all going to have a great time. We will recruit many people and we will all participate in club activities together. I hope it's better than last year. No one came to us, when we formed a circle to collect puzzles, we had to close... but I tried so hard and picked them out in the store.”

Nate gathered the rest of the papers and the two got up.

“Yes” the brunette spoke slowly. “I'm also sorry that it didn't work out. But I'm sure this time will be different. We don't give up so easily, do we?”

Nikolai smiled at him and nodded confidently, clutching the flyers to his chest.

"Yes!”

{...}

Damian, out of breath, rolled towards the pool area, which they managed to reach just as the bell for class was heard. The entire pool has been divided into several sections. Here was the largest pool, where annual competitions were held, in which those who went to the swimming circle took part. There was also a separate middle management pool and a separate junior management pool. And the remaining space for the room with changing rooms, a pantry and a booth in which teachers sat before the start of class. Chris ran to that main competition pool because it was the only place that was empty and deserted right now. He was already standing close to the edge, and his hand hovered over the water, holding a book in two fingers and rocking it back and forth. 

Damian put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath, and lifted his head to look at the manga. His heart slowly sank. If Chris really let go of him and he fell into the water, he would definitely never forgive him. After all, people should be aware. It's one thing to just arrange a meaningless chase to play with, and quite another to spoil someone else's property. Damian straightened his back and took a few steps forward, and when he noticed that the older man didn't seem to do anything with the comic, he moved even closer, closing the distance between them.

“Don't play… please,” Damian said, trying to catch his breath. “Please don't drop it.”

“Mian-Mian, what a bore you are” the guy laughed, lowering his hand. 

The little one's face turned a little white, and he held out his hand.

“You won't catch him like that.”

“I'll at least try to catch him!” the boy got angry. “Why do you even want to throw him there?! What's the point of that?! I've been running after you for so long!”

“God knows” Chris shrugged. “That I didn't make you run after me.”

“Chris!”

“That's my name, thank you. I'm glad you remember him.”

“Chris, please! Do not play in the water.”

“But I really want to throw something in there” the high school student smiled. “If not a book, then maybe you?”

"What?”

Chris chuckled and abruptly thrust his hand forward. Since Damian himself approached him, because he thought the guy would rescue his book, he couldn't even think that the guy would change his mind, and Damian himself would become a test subject. He did not expect and was not ready for such an outcome, so he was confused and could not avoid Chris's grip. And he had already thrown the book to the ground, and instead of him he took the child under his arms, starting to drag him into the water. Naturally, not wanting to get wet, Damian began to budge and break free.

"What?! You are crazy?! Don't you dare! Let go! LET ME GO!”

"There! What kind of grasshopper has bitten you that you can't stop?” Chris hissed as his hair was pulled and his shoulder was slapped.

“YOU'RE GOING TO THROW ME IN THE POOL AND YOU THOUGHT I WOULDN'T RESIST?!”

Chris smiled.

"Let's go. It's fun! After running, it's always satisfying to have a nice shower, ha ha!”

"You are madman!”

“Come on, Mian-Mian, we're almost to the water.”

“CHRIS!”

“The water is so beautiful and cool. Don't be afraid of her. Did you watch Freestyle?”

Damian yelled, grabbing the teen tightly.

Chris laughed.

“Go to the water! Be like Ariel.”

“I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!”

“I really don't need your forgiveness. It is a!”

“CHRIS!”

" It's two.”

“NO DO IT, PLEASE!”

"It's three. And…” Chris abruptly plucked the startled Damian from his shirt, who spun around helplessly and waved his arms in different directions, and then threw him into the water: “Fly kid!”

“AAAAaaaaaaHhh!!!”

Damian felt like he was on air and he didn't feel any support under his feet. Everything happened so fast, but since he didn't stop resisting and avoiding falling, at the last moment, when Chris let go of his hands and threw him, he didn't fly that far. His fingers were able to catch the edge of the taller's shirt, and when the high school student realized something was wrong, they both fell into the water with a loud splash and a lot of splashing. Damian felt his clothes grow heavier and the space around him grew much colder. His lungs seemed to contract in an instant, and then he opened his eyes, starting to paddle with his arms up. As soon as his head was above water, he saw Chris beside him, who managed to surface. The boy's expression was extremely angry.

“You…” the high school student hissed. "Why the hell did you drag me along with you?"

“And who asked you to throw me, huh?! I told you not to!” 

Chris smirked and brought his hand to the surface, splashing it into the water and causing a wave to splash over Damian's head. The little one closed his eyes as he swam to the side so he couldn't be reached. When Chris stopped sneezing, the boy spoke again.

“Sick idiot,” he huffed. “What if I can't swim? have you think about it?”

“I would be so sorry” the guy exhaled calmly and relaxed, sailing back. “I would pull you out of the water. Do I look like a killer?”

“You look like a madman!”

“I like this title” Chris smiled as he watched Damian start to swim to the side. 

"I want to leave!”

"AND?” The older one began to paddle his hands towards him abruptly. “Well, come here.”

"What? Hey! Get out! Don't swim for me!”

"Why?”

“I don't want to be near you! Swim here if you like it so much!”

“We're already wet anyway, why not swim some more?”

Chris finally managed to close the distance between them and hooked his hand in the collar of the boy's shirt, pulling him closer to him. Damian thrashed in place, trying his best to escape. If his feet touched the bottom, he would definitely succeed. But the pool was deep, because very young children were not supposed to swim here. Only high school students were in the swimming club, as only they could participate not only in competitions with each other on the basis of their educational institution, but also be nominated for interschool meetings. So Damian simply floated in place and couldn't move with his arms.

Chris smiled even wider at that.

“Mian-Mian is so hilarious.”

"Let me go!”

“Why are you so nervous?”

“You're going to drown me!”

“No, I just want to give you a ride.”

"WHAT?!”

“Don't shout, the teachers will hear” the older student grumbled. “It's not very deep for me. This thing won't work for me, but it will for you. I'll dive in, and you'll be on my shoulders, and as soon as I surface, you'll be thrown up. Push me with your feet and that's it. You will fly.”

Damian stopped struggling and froze, hovering in the water in one place. His brows drew together and, after thinking for a while, he looked at Chris in disbelief.

“Practice holding your breath.”

"It's because?”

“The lungs develop. From this they become larger and work much easier. Did not you know? Mian-Mian, who told me he wasn't a stupid boy?”

"I am not stupid! You who are stupid! And, yeah... Okay, but... Just once. If you try to drown me, I'll never speak to you again.”

Chris laughed softly and nodded.

"Combined! Well, on the count of three?”

{...}

Damian looked into the darkness. He had a towel over his head and the two of them were in the nurse's office with Chris. By a strange coincidence, after the high school student went to check it, it turned out to be empty. The nurse left the station and left a note saying she wouldn't be back until fifteen minutes later, which the guy showed the boy when he eyed him suspiciously.

“Did you threaten her?” Damian snorted, grabbing a towel and starting to dry his hair.

Immediately it became dark before his eyes, and after a minute his own hands were removed, and Chris himself sat down next to him on the sofa, starting to rub the towel on his head with all his might. The boy hissed several times, but this method was much more effective than him, so he did not dare to object and sat quietly, sometimes sneezing and sniffling. 

“Why would I threaten someone on whom my well-being during classes depends?” the guy grumbled, leaving Damian sitting with a towel on his head, and he quickly put it on his head. 

Chris pulled the elastic band from her black hair, and the strands, wet and stuck from the water, were spread across her shoulders. The guy, just like he did with Damian, repeated the aggressive cleaning procedure on himself. Both boys were now relatively dry-headed but terribly disheveled, and to top it off, their clothes left a lot to be desired. Damian wrapped his arms around himself and rubbed his shoulders, starting to shiver slightly. 

“I don't have a change of clothes with me,” said the boy. 

“Well, we're the same.”

“And now what can I do?” the boy sighed. “If we don't change, we'll get sick. I'm already getting cold.”

Chris huffed and rolled his eyes as he got up from the bed and started rummaging through the closets. He did not lie, because even taking into account the fact that physical education classes are held at school, for which it is customary to wear a changeable uniform, the high school student was not worried about this. In the article, Chris got the eternal  "f"  in the class report. He was lucky that he somehow made it to his senior year. Also, Chris cannot be threatened with expulsion or relegation this year. This cannot be done when it is the last year of study. It can be said that he is given a complete carte blanche for sloppiness and a cheerful lifestyle within these walls. 

The boy opened another closet and found only new piles of diapers and towels. Damian was still sitting on the sofa, wrapped in the towel used to dry his hair, shivering twice as hard. Chris thought as he bit his lip and tapped his fingers against the half-open door. When he suddenly leaned forward a little, he froze, trying to hear better. Due to the fact that both are silent and do not create unnecessary noise, it was possible to hear the distant approach of a person who would be walking down the corridor. Chris was sitting next to the right wall, right where the stairs led. This is the way they came here, and it was from there that a silent source of sound now emanated, which gradually grew stronger. Damian was sitting far away, so he couldn't suspect anything was wrong. 

As with all medical rooms in the school, this area has been divided into two rooms. First and foremost was where they were sitting now. There was a desk where the nurse sat, cabinets with the students' files and their medical cards, where all the vaccinations and medical records were, along with the certificates brought from the doctors. There were also two sofas here, there was a small screen, a table in the corner with special cups for thermometers and a bowl with extended iron spoons. It also contained the necessary first aid, the usual healing ointments, plasters, bandages and tampons, tablets for headaches and stomach aches, antipyretics, etc. there were sofas and curtains, there was a door. This door led to the next room with beds. There were only four of them. Students could go there and lie down if they felt really bad. There were usually those who had a fever in the morning or an upset stomach. In order not to go home, but to continue their studies, skipping lunch breaks and some classes, students lay on the bed, then got up and went to classes. And that door was always closed unless there was a nurse in the office. 

Chris quickly ran to his desk and started pulling open the top drawers. As soon as one of them produced a bunch of two identical keys, the guy smiled, shaking his head.

“Here they are,” the boy whispered, taking the keys and quickly opening the door with them. "Couldn't this thing be better hidden? Every year they put it in the same place.”

“Chris?”

"Come here.”

"Why?”

Although Damian asked, he quickly jumped off the sofa, following the older one, who had already managed to hide behind the door, and as soon as the boy himself entered the new room, he was strongly pulled by his shirt and the towel thrown from his shoulders. , starting to unbutton the buttons. At first, the child simply blinked his eyes in confusion, wondering what he was trying to do to him, and when Damian realized the situation, his cheeks suddenly flushed with a pink flush, and he immediately tried to remove the other's hands from him. same.

“W-what are you doing?!” the child shouted indignantly. “Harassment in its purest form! Why are you undressing me?! I'll tell my dad everything!”

Chris chuckled softly but continued what he started. After a few seconds, the buttons were undone and the child's shirt flew to one of the beds, and the guy unbuttoned his pants fly.

"FOR! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

"Do not scream! Chris hissed as he abruptly covered Damian's mouth with his hand. “I'm undressing you, don't you understand?”

The boy started to mutter into his hand, but as his mouth was directly blocked, only an incomprehensible moo reached both of them. Chris rolled his eyes.

“I'll withdraw my hand, but if you scream, I'll hit your head so you lose consciousness. Do you understand me?”

Chris said those words so seriously that Damian froze and obediently nodded his head. Immediately after that, his lip palm disappeared, and the high school student wiped away the drool that appeared on the bed blanket.

"What you-“

“I'm not doing anything, stupid” the older one pulled his pants down over his legs and took Damian in his arms, moving the boy to the bed and throwing a blanket over him. “Sit down here and be quiet. I'm going to get new clothes. If you get sick, you'll surely complain to your precious father, and he'll come after me. I need it?”

Damian wrapped himself in a warm blanket and sniffled.

"I did not say-“

“Shut up, I said.”

Damian was silent.

Chris made sure to pack everything and ran out of the room, locking it again. He quickly removed the wrapping and grabbed the garment, throwing it under the sofa, kicking it to the farthest corner, when the footsteps on the steps finally reached the door, it opened. The teen locked eyes with the older one, the man's eyes narrowed and he took a few confident steps towards the teen.

“Why are your clothes wet?”

“I was sweating while running in PE.”

The professor chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

The man walked over to the table and saw a note saying the nurse had left and would be back shortly. The man lifted the piece of paper higher and placed it almost to the teen's nose, pointing to the text.

"Can read?”

"No.”

Chris shrugged and smiled in satisfaction as he closed his eyes.

"Until.”

The man frowned, watching the teenager's actions closely, and when Chris, instead of acting, walked out the door with a calm stride, the man left the room in the same way. Immediately in the hall, the boy leaned against the wall and shoved his hands in his pockets, looking out the window in front of him. His teacher approached him, saying rudely:

“It was you in the pool.”

"I? No, I think you got it confused with someone else.”

Simon sighed, trying to contain himself from hitting this guy, and when his breathing gradually calmed down, he opened his eyes again and looked at the teenager.

“I will repeat it calmly and slowly for you to understand. It was you in the pool.”

“And I repeat once more that not –“

“That wasn't a question,” the man interrupted. “I was looking through the surveillance cameras yesterday. The chickens were his too. Are you aware that you ruined two classes with your prank?”

“Chickens…chickens…chickens, huh?” Chris tapped his chin thoughtfully with his finger. “Mmm… I don't remember any chickens.”

“Then take pills for your memory!”

“But you threw me out of the medical room yourself.”

"You…”

"Yes?”

Simon clenched his fists, and the teenager just chuckled at that, throwing his head back and continuing to talk, drawing out his words.

“I have no idea what kind of chickens we're talking about, I wasn't in class yesterday, you can look at roll call, I didn't even go near the school. And since you are talking about cameras, I hasten to remind you that the cameras in the pool are turned off during the educational process. To protect human rights. You know, seeing little girls and boys in swim trunks doing that is a sinful thing. Therefore, a few years ago, it was decided to turn them on when everyone goes home and make sure that strangers or thieves do not climb onto the territory and walls of the school. Mister Simon, didn't you know that?”

Simon snorted.

“And you, I see, are pretty smart about that, huh?” the man asked. “Even if I lie that I saw you on camera, it doesn't change the fact that it was you. I was walking by when I heard other teachers talking about how someone was in the competition pool and made a mess of splashing water everywhere. Now what do I see? You're all wet from head to toe. And how two puddles led straight here. Do you really think I'm an idiot? Was you. You and someone else. Where is he?”

Chris laughed.

“I have no idea what kind of person you're talking about. Am I not the one who always acts alone? And since you decided to play crawler and managed to get me clean water, what are you going to do with me?”

"I? Anything. This is not my responsibility. But I will report to your teacher about you.”

“Mmm, well, good luck with that,” Chris grinned. “Don't forget to buy him nice, fragrant flowers. You who bring him those tulips that are replaced on the table almost every day?”

Simon jerked the teenager towards him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and hissing menacingly:

“My tulips and my relationship with him are none of your business.”

Chris laughed again.

“Why are you so nervous then? Did I say I have something against it? I just clarified so you don't forget to bring nice, smelling flowers. You're just a master at bringing only things that attack his allergies. And he is a master of pretending and not talking about it. Well, you know, he doesn't want to offend a friend. So I always have to throw them away, not him. But I mean well, of course, Master Simon. How not to listen to Jasper?”

“To you, he is Professor Smith!”

"Yes.” Chris grabbed the man's arm roughly and pulled him to loosen his shirt. “Just like for you.”

"Yes?” Simon laughed. “You know, if you valued his good attitude towards you so much, you wouldn't do everything you do every year. He only protects you! I can't believe he could see the good in you! You are real scum!” 

The teen took a step back until he was pressed against the wall again and shrugged.

“Well… You can see the good in anyone.”

“But not on you.”

“Professor Simon is very unfair to me” Chris smiled. “What is more. Do you really want to report me, poor Jasper, he will again have to look for excuses to defend me, and it will be more inconvenient for him to look for it in front of you than in front of the rest of the team. Professor Smith considers you a great friend.”

“You think you're going to piss me off by constantly mentioning the word 'friend'?”

“And I think it works really well for me. You should have seen his face” the teen whispered coldly. “You don't expect to hit me for it.”

"You are-“

"What I am? Are you going to hit me, old motherfucker? Let's go. I won't even resist, and then we'll see which of us he sympathizes with.”

Simon opened his eyes. His pupil narrowed sharply. He reflexively withdrew his hand, but forced himself to freeze in that position. Chris was right in front of him, his head tilted slightly down. His face was completely veiled with hair, and covered with a shadow, it was only possible to see how the devilish smile on the teenager's lips peeked in the light.

"What? Do not want?”

“I will throw you out.”

"Try. If you couldn't do it that year, you won't be able to do it this year either. And then?”

“Yeah, I'll do my best to make him finally open his eyes and understand what a bitch you are!”

Chris just chuckled again. He lifted his head back so that his entire face could be seen. With such a piercing gaze, Simon was stunned.

“No matter how hard you try, you're just an ordinary guy with no charisma, Master Simon,” the boy whispered. “I am the one who most attracted your attention. Your partner. And even if you skin him and turn him inside out in front of him, nothing will change. Do you think Jasper is just defending me?”

“He will never let you cross the line of teacher and student! Never! That day he was out of his mind!”

Chris laughed.

"Haha ha!” said the teenager. “Isn't that funny to you? Do you really believe what you say? If you hadn't come, we would have gone all the way...”

“Shut up! You did it by force!”

“Yes, I really did then, if you want to believe that. Do you think I follow people? I have other things to do, besides, I don't live in that area. I had no idea where he lived and that we were going to collide and he was going to drag me to his apartment.”

Simon gritted his teeth, making Chris more amused.

“No matter how hard you try to think of an excuse to cheat, you were in the corner from the start.”

“Your teacher told you to shut up! You are deaf?”

The teenager shrugged. He was already bored with this conversation. Every time he ran into Simon, they never managed to have a proper conversation. Even when this guy came to teach at the school, on the first day, Chris already disliked Simon. When the teenager started skipping classes, the man was completely furious. It was when he went to talk to his teacher, and it was when he met Jasper Smith that the two hit it off, but Simon continued to hate Chris with all his heart. This went on for over a year, but just because of the event that happened just a few months ago, this man literally picked up and blamed all crimes on Chris, even if they weren't committed by him. He didn't care, he was going to get that delinquent out of the school at all costs. Jasper then attended twice as many planning meetings and the principal's office, begging the young man for forgiveness. So the fact that man was coming for his soul now was not surprising.

Chris tried to behave normally with Simon and never switched to informal communication, perhaps his direct aggression and personal contact only started in the last year. And it continued until now. More than anything, Chris wanted to graduate quickly and not see this man. And what's his fault for missing classes? He just hates studying. 

But is he really to blame for the fact that no matter how Simon got to Jasper, Jasper rejected him and told Simon he only saw him as his friend? Is it the teen's fault? Chris is sure that even if he wasn't there, Jasper would still see Simon as a good friend who can carry him calmly until he comes home when he's drunk and helps him out, Jasper almost sees Simon as a brother! Not the case when Chris was next to Jasper. The delinquent, who smells so delicious, the boy, whose charisma and derisive manner most caught Jasper's attention, who is so pleasant to be around, and whose presence beside him is very calming. Naturally, Jasper brought it home with him. And Chris just...

... he just went.

Just it...

He wanted... Jasper wanted

They both wanted it...

Who would have thought that Simon would simply break into the apartment, finding a spare key under the rug? Simon when he saw the two almost in the sexual act, he was furious. He still sees this scene before his eyes, as soon as Chris appears in his field of vision. 

The delinquent exhaled softly, waving a hand at him, and turned to walk away.

"I'm leaving.”

"Where are you going?! If you make a mess during class time, you will be punished!”

“Well, go to Jasper and tell him about it. He will tell me what I have to do.”

"Looks like it!”

“Sorry sir Simon, but I actually have a class going on” Chris smiled, turning his head back and winking at the man. “I'm late for class, that's all.”

And without even giving Simon a chance to respond to that, Chris had already turned towards the steps and quickly walked down them, out completely.

{...}

Chris looked around at all the cabinets where additional kits had been downloaded for storage. It was the beginning of classes now, so he had to find at least a small uniform. When the teenager was on the fifth floor, he found a suitable kit. When he left Simon behind, he hid and waited for the man to come out of that hallway, after which he had to go back and get the clothes he had hidden under the sofa. By consulting the size measurements on clothes, he was able to choose the right size. 

As soon as the search was successfully completed, the delinquent again crossed the threshold of the school's medical room. He looked around the room in a predatory fashion, noting that the nurse hadn't returned yet. Chris folded up his damp clothes and placed them on the chair beside the radiator where his socks were already drying. He took out the key he had hidden earlier, and quickly opened the door, stepping into the second room. Damian had already fallen asleep. After they had had enough of a swim in the pool, the boy was put to bed. Obviously, here in the warmth and comfort, after the cold water, his body was exhausted and he dozed off. Chris walked over and lightly placed his hand on the child's forehead, resting the other on his. 

“The temperature is normal...”

He left his clean clothes beside the bunk and jumped into bed next to him. Sitting comfortably on the blanket, the teen noticed that his own shirt and pants were almost dry and were only slightly damp now. Chris lifted the pillow and leaned on it with his back, after which he calmly picked up the manga that caused all the fuss in the morning and threw it at Damian with all his might, hitting the boy right on top of his head.

From such a blow, the child woke up in the same second and curled up in a ball, whimpering and clutching the injured place with his hands.

“Are you…completely crazy or what?!”

“You didn't wake up, Mian-Mian, it took me so long to wake you up. What else was left for me?”

"Idiot! You're an idiot, do you hear me?! Don't you dare do that again!”

Damian sat up and gently rubbed his head.

“It hurts...” he whimpered. 

“It will heal before the wedding, hehe.”

The child frowned and glared at the high school student.

“Only I think you could be kind, how do you play something like that?” the child grumbled, seeing the new clothes folded in a pile. “He tricked me, then tricked me again, threw me in the water, locked me here alone… Do you have any good in you?”

Chris chuckled and stretched, getting comfortable.

“Who knows, Mian-Mian, who knows…”