Chapter 2: 2. Men steal attention
"Please run around the field until I say stop."
That indisputable order came from Kafka who was now standing in front of some unruly male students. They were accidentally caught trying to escape from the back fence of the school by the committee members who were on patrol to catch recalcitrant students. One of the five students, Sankara, was standing casually, ignoring the punishment given by the chairman of the committee. As if he didn't care about the others putting their hands behind their backs, he put one hand in his pants pocket.
"Why are you still standing there? Didn't you hear what I said earlier?" Kafka exclaimed with his eyes narrowed at the enemy in front of him because he never ran onto the field. Even more so when Sankara flashed a smile as if mocking him.
"It's very important that I listen to you," he replied casually as he played the ground with his feet wrapped in Allstar shoes that he hadn't washed in three months. Hearing that dismissive answer made Kafka's temper flare up. But as much as possible he held back because there was no way he could fight just because of a verbal argument.
What a girl.
"What can you do? What a burden to be a person. You're just looking for trouble at school. Cuih!" Kafka said, which sounded like an insult to Sankara's ears.
Instead of taking offense or getting angry, Sankara chuckled lightly.
"Wow! It turns out that a committee chairman who is known for his intelligence can also care about a trashy punk like me," Sankara replied while clapping his hands. His expression showed that he was happy with what Kafka had said.
He continued, "I feel respected by the chairman," he said, emphasizing the word 'chairman'.
"But unfortunately, I don't think you need to care about my life that much. You should take care of that nerd chick of yours," Sankara continued, deliberately baiting Kafka so that the man would get angry and the two of them would have a big fight.
What a beautiful fantasy.
Seeing the puzzled look on Kafka's face, Sankara continued his ruthless act.
"Why, are you confused about what I said? Oh, or are you confused about which girl I'm talking about?" he asked with one eyebrow raised.
"Sorry, I can't speak animals."
Sankara's jaw hardened at the answer from the man who was the same height as her. The atmosphere became tense as he leaned forward and tugged roughly on Kafka's collar.
"No way you don't understand," he said loudly right in Kafka's face.
Not accepting Sankara's behavior towards him, Kafka immediately pushed Sankara's body backward which made the man stagger slightly.
"Watch your fucking mouth!" Kafka snapped. Not only that, he continued his sentence. "You bastard!"
Sankara's vision darkened instantly. His chest heaved with his hands clenched tightly. Without another word, he slammed straight into Kafka's body. He slammed into his stomach until the chairman fell to the ground. Not only that, but Sankara also threw a punch in the face of the man who had insulted him earlier.
"You're dead in my hands!" he cried angrily.
"Get off me dog!" he yelled as the others tried to block him from hitting Kafka again.
Sankara was out of control.
Images of his mother's suffering played like a broken record in his head. No! He's not an illegitimate child. What Kafka said earlier was not true. Yes, he was sure of it.
The break bell rang as Kafka got up and immediately retaliated. He hit Sankara's face until his temple was injured. It didn't matter if the two of them were now the center of attention because the students began to leave the classroom.
Sankara tried to escape from some students who were blocking him. He knew they all must have been coded by the man to make his body unable to do anything. Sankara was not as stupid as Kafka thought. A fight was inevitable. They couldn't stop Sankara or Kafka from fighting. Both had excellent martial arts skills. Several times Kafka escaped his punches, as well as Sankara who could always dodge when his opponent gave a crushing blow. But unfortunately, when his fist hit Kafka's bruised face, his weakness came in the crowd.
Att, Sankara thought.
"STOP! I SAY STOP!" she shouted, getting in front of Kafka. Yes, the girl was protecting her lover. The feeling of worry was evident on Atthera's face. In her eyes, Sankara knew there was tremendous anger for her from the girl.
"Why did you fight with that bad boy Kaf?!" she asked Kafka worriedly. Which Sankara could still hear.
The pain when Atthera chose to defend and worry about Kafka rather than her, was not worth the wound on her temple that was bleeding.
"I'm not at fault Thera. She attacked me first," Kafka replied, groaning at the pain in his stomach.
"Whatever the reason, I don't care. Now come with me to the medical center so I can treat it. It must hurt, right?"
Damn!
Sankara's fist hardened as Atthera gently rubbed Kafka's face with great care. It was as if his enemy was an object that the slightest nudge would break. Sankara was fully aware. The feeling of jealousy should not be in his heart. Wasn't it a natural thing? Kafka was Atthera's boyfriend. Her best friend. Nothing more than that. But why did his heart hurt and couldn't accept the fact that he and Atthera were only friends?
The crowd dispersed as they were chased away by some of the student council members who immediately took action when news of the fight spread. Some cried out in disappointment for not being able to see more of the drama between the school leaders. Some marveled at Sankara's good looks. It was rare to see such a man at school. 'Wouldn't it be a shame to waste it? And not a few also berated him.
And of course, those who witnessed it all were not allowed to tell the school. For the sake of Kafka's good name and his pride. The chairman of the committee is highly respected and honored.
"Let me just treat Kafka. Isn't it okay Ra?"
Hearing a question Sankara knew who it was from his voice. Making his steps stop as he was about to leave there.
Atthera's face, which was originally radiant because she could give more attention to her boyfriend, immediately changed one hundred and eighty degrees when the relationship bullies appeared. She was already quite relieved because she thought Thea wasn't at school. But in fact, it was all just his hope.
"But I-"
"Please... May I? Kafka is already in pain. The wound could get infected if left untreated," she begged him to accompany her to the clinic. Atthera wanted to say no. But from the look Kafka gave her, she knew he wished he wasn't the one treating her wound.
"Yes. Please."
There was no other choice but to say the word 'Yes.' By God, right now Atthera felt that there was no stupid woman in this world other than her. As stupid as women are and as weak as they are, a woman would never let the man she loves to leave with another woman. But look at her. So pathetic.
"Hey, don't cry. There's still me who's hurt here. You can treat it if you want Att," Sankara said from behind her back. Atthera's eyes heated up at the words of the man she called a bad boy. She turned around, looking at Sankara who was also looking at her with a faint smile. Why didn't she realize that her friend's injuries were worse than her lover's bruises?
But look at what Sankara did. With her large hand, she tucked a lock of hair behind Atthera's ear.
"Can't cry, huh?" he brought her face closer, "Shame on the real Atthera," he whispered in the girl's ear.
Atthera held back her smile as Sankara did the same. Whereas just this morning they were angry, but now they are giving each other smiles. Do you know why? Because Sankara could never be angry with her for more than half an hour.
"I'll wait at the usual place. Let's see who arrives first," Atthera said, which Sankara immediately nodded.
Then the two of them immediately walked in different directions with fast steps. Deliberately not running so that no one would suspect their closeness.
It was always like this. Both Sankara and Atthera, if of them wanted to meet in the school area they had to walk in opposite directions so that no one would be suspicious. In between his footsteps, Sankara secretly smiled a little. Even though he was the choice of the two girls, it was okay, right? Wouldn't it be like that, he would be Atthera's final choice someday.
Ais, what is she thinking?!
I think the title Troublemaker for her should be changed to just a troublemaker. Because lately, she's really into daydreaming.
"You're one minute and thirty seconds late, Sankara. That means I win."
Up ahead, right on the edge of the rooftop Atthera was waiting for him with her knees knocked together.
"Woi! What are you doing stupidly?! Hurry up and come here. Do you want to be treated?!" she scolded angrily.
But Sankara liked it.
Seeing that her crazy friend was still faithfully standing in front of the rooftop entrance with an innocent face. Atthera immediately stood up and walked over to him. With a sour look on her face, she forced Sankara's hand to sit with her on the spot.
The work of cleaning the wound began. I don't know where the girl got the p3k box from, and I don't know if the method was right or wrong. What was clear was that Sankara just enjoyed every touch that Atthera gave him, which made his lips sometimes pull up, because the fake feminine girl occasionally scowled annoyed with her long loose hair which only made him uncomfortable and hot.
"Att," she interrupted. Unexpectedly, the man took out a lock of hair from his pants pocket.
"Eh-eh what is this?!" she was shocked spontaneously as Sankara suddenly turned his back. What made her even more disbelieving was when he pulled out her long, flowing hair.
"No need to pretend in front of me, Att. You must be hot and uncomfortable with how you look, right?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"There you go."
Sankara turned Atthera around to face him again, "How is it? Fresh, right?"
Atthera nodded. Her hand rubbed her slender neck which felt fresh from the passing wind, "Hum. Not hot anymore." she replied innocently. Sankara desperately refrained from pinching her cheeks.
A few minutes later, the wound had been treated. With a plaster that eventually stuck near her temple.
"Since when can you treat people like this? I fell off the bike the other day and you just cried," taunted Sankara, who received a small poke in the arm.
"Fuck!" she snapped back. There was no more conversation between the two. He seemed to know just what she needed right now.
"Don't hold it in anymore. Just cry, Att. The entrance bell is still a while away," he said, and shortly after, Atthera's tears fell instantly.
But in between her tears, Atthera was quite aware of one thing. That Kafka and Sankara were two people with completely different personalities.
Kafka often behaved romantically toward her. Sankara, however, could always make her speechless and amazed by the simple things he did.
Like this example. What girl doesn't go wrong when her hair is tied up by a guy?
Simple yet impressive, that's Sankara.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone