Chapter 4: Regardless of Time

Time flowed on, and a new day graced the citizens of Sayon. It was the 6th of October, 1997. Joseph awoke from his slumber, his lather mattress beckoning him to rise. A ritual of responsibility awaited as he meticulously tidied his sleeping quarters. The act of making one's bed was not merely a chore; it was a reflection of one's commitment and diligence, a small yet significant statement about one's character in the eyes of the community.

Societal norms often cast their expectations upon individuals, shaping their behaviours and defining their roles. Yet, these norms were like clay, moulded differently by each person's perspective. What might be an unwavering duty to one was seen from a different angle by another. Such complexities wove the rich tapestry of social existence, with threads of individuality contributing to the grand design.

The previous night had been a dalliance with chill, the ambient temperature dipping below the 15-degree Celsius mark. The mattress, upon which Joseph had rested, bore no trace of perspiration – a testament to the cool, refreshing embrace of the evening air.

As dawn's fingers painted the sky with hues of gold, Joseph found himself in the quiet embrace of his familial abode. The rhythmic cadence of daily life had already ushered his parents into their respective roles, each playing a part in the intricate symphony of Sayon's routine.

Pharawan's household was a microcosm of this ceaseless motion. With the sun's ascent, the homestead came alive with activity. Chores and responsibilities seamlessly took their place, a dance of duty that played out in countless homes across the town. The cycle of existence spun relentlessly, and as Joseph prepared to face the day ahead, he knew that his contributions were but individual threads woven into the vibrant tapestry of Sayon's collective life.

Within the Pharawan household, Joseph's presence was not solitary. An older sister named Rebecca, aged 25, shared the familial space. Their interactions and shared experiences painted the backdrop of their lives, forming a canvas of sibling camaraderie.

In his pursuit of independence, Joseph earned a monthly allowance from his parents. A lesson in financial responsibility, he meticulously managed his funds, seeking value in every expenditure. Thrift became a virtue, a skill he cultivated with care.

Morning unfolded its embrace, and Joseph's first act was to prepare for the day. The ritual of bathing marked a transition from slumber to the world of activity that awaited. With precision, he readied his school uniform, a symbol of his role within the larger framework of education and society.

The aroma of breakfast filled the air, an invitation to the morning repast that awaited. A simple yet nourishing spread of bacon and eggs adorned the table. In its simplicity lay its strength – a meal that fuelled the body and set the tone for the hours ahead. The sustenance it provided would be the cornerstone upon which Joseph's energy would rely throughout the day.

Amidst the morning's offerings, a malt drink emerged as Joseph's choice. A nod to the body's nutritional requirements, it was a considered addition to his breakfast ensemble. The act of fuelling one's self went beyond mere sustenance; it was an acknowledgement of the body's needs and a gesture of care towards oneself.

With his uniform neatly donned and his shoes snugly fit, Joseph stepped across the threshold of his home. The day's journey beckoned, a path paved with knowledge and experiences waiting to be unraveled. As the door closed behind him, the air seemed to whisper with anticipation – a new day, a fresh canvas upon which the strokes of life would be painted.

The clock ticked its way to 8:30 a.m, marking the commencement of the first lesson of the day – mathematics. Ms. Moonchapat, a dedicated educator aged 31, stood before the students as the guardian of numbers and equations. Her presence held a promise of guidance through the labyrinth of mathematical concepts.

Within the hallowed halls of Adonias Public School, Ms. Moonchapat's reputation preceded her. Her approachability and warmth made her not just a teacher, but a mentor. With a heart committed to her students' growth, she wore her role with grace and sincerity.

As the lesson unfolded, the mathematics classroom became a realm of exploration. Numbers danced upon the blackboard, forming patterns and puzzles waiting to be deciphered. Ms. Moonchapat's gentle yet authoritative voice guided her pupils through the intricate web of mathematical logic.

Once the lesson concluded, Joseph's path took an intriguing turn. Instead of departing the classroom like his fellow students, he followed in the wake of Ms. Moonchapat. The intention was clear – he sought a conversation, an opportunity to connect beyond the bounds of the syllabus.

The corridors of the school echoed with the hurried footsteps of students, all eager to catch up to the swift pace set by Ms. Moonchapat. Her strides carried her with purpose, a testament to her dedication and the demands of her schedule. For those who wished to engage her attention, the pursuit was a challenging one, requiring both determination and agility.

As Joseph pressed on, his determination mirrored his pursuit of knowledge. His quest for understanding extended beyond the boundaries of the classroom, encompassing the nuances of human interaction. With each step, he moved closer to the possibility of a conversation that held the promise of insights beyond the realm of textbooks.

"What is she crafted from? It's a mix of admiration and exasperation," Joseph mused as he quickened his steps to match Ms. Moonchapat's relentless pace. The blend of respect and annoyance swirled within him, a testament to her enigmatic charisma.

As the corridors stretched ahead, Joseph's determination bore fruit. The labyrinth of hallways led him to the moment he sought – a chance to speak with Ms. Moonchapat directly. Breathing a silent sigh of achievement, he stepped forward.

"Ms. Moon, it's Joseph Pharawan from class 3," he began, his voice carrying the undertones of anticipation and eagerness. "Could I possibly have a conversation with you? I'm pondering my path ahead, and I believe your insights could be invaluable."

A fleeting moment of connection passed between them, a bridge of understanding formed by shared curiosity. Ms. Moonchapat's gaze met his, acknowledging his request. Her response carried the promise of a conversation to come.

"Certainly, Joseph. During the upcoming recess, you'll find me in my room. Feel free to join me then," she replied, her words extending an invitation to deeper discourse.

"Thank you, Ms Moon. I'll look forward to it," Joseph affirmed, a mixture of gratitude and anticipation in his tone. With a nod and a shared understanding, their paths diverged for the moment.

"Until then," Ms. Moonchapat said with a kind smile, a prelude to the insights that awaited their exchange.

Joseph's steps carried him away, his thoughts now shaped by the prospect of a forthcoming conversation. As the world around him continued its rhythm, he harboured the excitement of unraveling new layers of understanding during the upcoming recess.

Joseph is interested in an academic career. His whole life, he tries to fight his essence. Being a scholar is a life-changing turning point in his life as he gets to keep on learning that somehow reduces his anxiety. At last, it is a battle within himself to keep up the consistency and accuracy of the intense velocity of the world. Time is running, he gets back to his main plot with the Jika Boys. He has a suggestion on how they could take down the Irish Whip gang instead of going for Jericho first.

The recess bell rang, signaling a brief interlude in the day's academic pursuits. This was Joseph's moment – the opportunity he had eagerly awaited. With resolve in his stride, he made his way to the teacher's office, his destination clear: a conversation with Ms. Moonchapat.

Upon entering the teacher's office, Joseph was met with a bustling scene. The room was alive with the presence of 7 to 9 teachers engaged in their own conversations and tasks. It seemed like a whirlwind of activity, a microcosm of the school's professional realm.

Navigating through the hubbub, Joseph moved with purpose. His objective was to locate Ms. Moonchapat amidst the organised chaos. As he ventured deeper into the room, the voices and movements of the teachers surrounded him, each vignette a fragment of the educational mosaic.

"It appears that Ms. Moon isn't currently here," Joseph muttered to himself, a hint of disappointment threading through his words. Yet, he was undeterred. With a decisive nod, he continued his quest, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of her presence.

Then, like a welcome apparition, a figure emerged from the nearby restroom. Relief washed over Joseph as he recognised Ms. Moonchapat. She was the beacon he sought, the guide to the insights he yearned for.

"There she is," Joseph's inner turmoil eased into a sense of accomplishment as he spotted her. With a renewed sense of purpose, he approached her, their meeting point Ms. Moonchapat's own desk.

Seated side by side, they embarked on their conversation. The teacher's office, once a hub of administrative matters, transformed into a sanctuary of exchange. Amidst the hum of colleagues' conversations and the distant echoes of the school's routine, Joseph and Ms. Moonchapat engaged in a dialogue that transcended the ordinary.

Words flowed between them, an exchange of thoughts, questions, and perspectives. In this enclave of academia, they forged a connection that bridged the gap between teacher and student. As they delved into matters of personal growth and the road ahead, the room around them seemed to fade, leaving only the resonance of their discourse.

The teacher's office, a realm typically reserved for administrative affairs, had become a stage for the exploration of aspirations and possibilities. And as their conversation unfolded, Joseph felt the weight of his curiosity lifting, replaced by a sense of purpose and understanding that only a sincere exchange could bring.

With a polite greeting, Joseph initiated the conversation. "I'd like to seek your guidance regarding my chosen career path."

Ms. Moonchapat responded with an encouraging smile. "It's always wise to have a clear vision for your future. Do you have any particular direction in mind?"

Joseph leaned forward slightly, his enthusiasm evident. "Actually, I've been contemplating the idea of becoming an educator. There was a time when I found myself disinterested in everything around me. But then, something happened. I met a stranger, a foreigner whose name I can't quite recall, possibly Allan, although it doesn't matter. He unintentionally handed me a book, which I assume he authored. My suspicion is that he was subtly promoting his work. The book was titled 'Fighting your Own Nature' by Leviticus Kilgore. The author's name might be a pen name, beginning with the letter A. Regardless, I was captivated by the book. I still have it, and it ignited a desire within me to help others and pursue a career in education."

Ms. Moonchapat's eyes reflected her genuine interest. "That's quite an intriguing story. The influence of a single encounter can be profound. Do you have any plans for further education in this direction?"

Joseph nodded, his expression determined. "Yes, I've been considering enrolling at Yogenn Public University. Financial constraints make private institutions unfeasible for me, and I'm not keen on part-time work. My approach has been to save more than I spend, ensuring that minimal fees won't deter me from my goal."

"You are acting like him."

A hint of surprise mixed with amusement curved Joseph's lips. "Oh, really? And who might this mysterious person be?"

Ms. Moonchapat's eyes twinkled with a playful glint. "Well, let's just say, you're not the first person I've encountered with such an ambitious spirit."

Joseph's brows lifted in curiosity. "Ah, an enigma wrapped in riddles."

A chuckle escaped from Ms. Moonchapat. "I suppose I do tend to keep a few mysteries up my sleeve."

Joseph leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. "And now you've piqued my curiosity."

With a soft laugh, Ms. Moonchapat responded, "Perhaps one day, the puzzle pieces will come together for you."

Joseph couldn't help but tease. "A puzzle within a mystery. You're making this intriguing."

Ms. Moonchapat raised an eyebrow playfully. "Well, intrigue can be a powerful motivator."

"What you should do now is to focus on the path you are leading, enhancing your proficiency, and being truly competent," Ms. Moonchapat advised, her tone earnest. "You have a sharp mind, Joseph, but remember, success comes from your hard work and dedication, not just words alone."

Joseph nodded thoughtfully. "I appreciate your guidance, Ms. Moonchapat. Your words definitely hold weight."

A warm smile crossed her face. "I'm glad to hear that. Now, about not getting your head hit so bad..."

Joseph's eyes widened in surprise. "You know about that?"

Ms. Moonchapat chuckled softly. "Teachers tend to know more than students think. Just remember, humility goes a long way."

Joseph couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and amazement. "Well, duly noted. I'll keep that in mind."

"Do you want a drink? I could save your allowance tremendously," Ms. Moonchapat offered.

Joseph's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected kindness. "Well, that's really nice of you, Miss. I wouldn't let this chance leap over my head."

Ms. Moonchapat chuckled softly. "Tea or coffee?"

Joseph leaned back in his chair, considering his options. "Tea, please. I've been avoiding caffeine lately."

With a nod, Ms. Moonchapat got up from her seat and headed towards a small counter in the corner of the room. Joseph took a moment to observe the office, noticing the shelves filled with books and various teacher-related paraphernalia.

As Ms. Moonchapat prepared the tea, Joseph couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude. It wasn't just about the drink, but the connection he was building with a teacher who genuinely cared about his aspirations.

"Thank you, Miss, I really appreciate it," Joseph said as she handed him a cup of tea.

Ms. Moonchapat smiled warmly. "You're welcome, Joseph. It's always nice to see a student with such determination and a clear goal in mind."

Sipping the tea, Joseph couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of purpose. This meeting had turned out to be more valuable than he could have imagined. As he left the teacher's office, he knew that he had taken another step towards his dream of becoming an educator, all while building a meaningful connection with a teacher who believed in him.

The school day had drawn to a close, with the clock striking 4:00 in the afternoon. The halls, once bustling with students, were now gradually emptying as each individual ventured towards their own life beyond the school walls. In one classroom, Yynn found herself finishing up her tasks, the last remnants of the school day.

As she neatly arranged her stationery, Yynn couldn't help but feel a sense of solitude. "At the end of the day, I'm all alone," she softly murmured to herself. The atmosphere in the room was hushed, save for the occasional shuffle of papers and the soft ticking of the clock.

However, the tranquillity was suddenly shattered by a sharp sound – a cacophony of books tumbling onto the polished floor. Yynn's heart skipped a beat, and she froze in her place. "Someone there?" she called out, her voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and unease. Swiftly, she began gathering her belongings, her movements growing quicker in response to the unexpected disturbance. "Why did I even ask? Now they know I'm here. And who could that be?" Yynn's thoughts raced as she hurriedly stuffed her items into her bag.

As panic set in, Yynn's instinct was to flee. She dashed towards the exit door, her bag slung over her shoulder, a torrent of emotions propelling her forward. "I need to get out of here!" she thought, her heart pounding in her chest. Without a second thought, she sprinted towards the nearest staircase, her mind fixated on the hope that her pursuer wouldn't give chase.

But as Yynn reached the staircase, the echoing sound of footsteps, resonating like the beats of a drum, reached her ears. With determination coursing through her veins, she pressed on, taking the tortuous steps two at a time, descending in a flurry of motion. In her haste, a misstep occurred, and her foot slipped on a stair. Her balance teetered on the edge of disaster, but salvation arrived in the form of a firm, reassuring grip. Her hand was clasped in that of a stranger – the mysterious figure who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

Breathing heavily, Yynn steadied herself, her wide eyes gazing up at the shadowy face of her rescuer. "Thank you, thank you so much," she managed to utter, her voice a blend of gratitude and relief. The stranger's response was concealed, their voice masked by secrecy.

Yynn peered more intently, seeking to unveil the identity of her savior, and her eyes widened in recognition. Before her stood Jericho, his features partially obscured but unmistakably him. "J... Jericho?" Yynn stammered, her surprise evident. "I'm sorry, I really have to go. Thank you again for helping me." She offered her words of appreciation, her heart still racing, and hastily made her escape, leaving Jericho behind with his enigmatic presence.

"There goes nothing," Jericho muttered, his gaze fixed on the staircase.

"Someone was chasing her, I can tell," he speculated aloud, his voice carrying a mix of concern and determination.

"Oi! If you hear me, get down here immediately!" Jericho's call echoed through the vacant corridor, his words reverberating off the walls.

"Good, there was a punk who wanted to jump me," he muttered, a glint of resolve in his eyes. "Now, I have to face this... Nothing gets in my way!" With those resolute words, Jericho steeled himself for whatever challenges lay ahead, his determination unshakable as he braced for the unknown.

Yynn's pursuer had finally gathered the courage to confront Jericho head-on.

"I'm not afraid of you, Jericho," the voice echoed through the corridor, tinged with defiance.

"Then why don't you come down here and talk to me face to face like a man?" Jericho's response was laced with a challenging tone.

"I don't trust you," came the retort.

"Neither do I," Jericho admitted bluntly.

"When the time comes, it's a life or death situation for you, Jericho," the voice warned, its intensity palpable.

"Whatever, just keep your hands off Yynn!" Jericho's tone was fierce, protective.

"And you'll have to make me do so," the voice replied cryptically, the tension in the air almost tangible.

With those words, the conversation came to an abrupt end. The mysterious figure slipped away, and Jericho, his stance unwavering, eventually turned and walked away from the scene, leaving an aura of unresolved tension hanging in the air.

Yynn returned home, her steps carrying her safely through the familiar corridors. The maids and gardeners greeted her with smiles as she passed by, adding a touch of warmth to her arrival. Making her way through the elegant surroundings, she headed towards her father's office. A gentle knock on the door preceded her entrance.

"Dad, I'm home," Yynn's voice filled the room with its softness and familiarity.

"Yes, daughter," came Van Do Lee's distracted response, his attention firmly fixed on the files before him.

Yynn hesitated a moment before continuing, "Can I talk to you about something?"

"I'm afraid not, I have to attend a meeting with my ministers right now," Van Do Lee responded briskly, his movements swift as he gathered his belongings and prepared to leave the room.

Yynn stood there, a mixture of emotions swirling within her as she processed the abrupt end to the conversation. The weight of her unspoken words hung heavy in the air, and she felt a lump form in her throat. With a heavy heart, she turned away from the closed door and began to walk, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I wish things were different," she whispered to herself, her voice tinged with sadness. "I try to talk to him, but he won't listen."

As she walked through the corridors of the mansion, her thoughts continued to unravel. "Even though I live in a so-called world's paradise, I can't find any true happiness here. I never knew who my mother was; my father sure has numerous mistresses."

A sigh escaped her lips as she recalled a past conversation she had overheard among the maids. "There was a time I overheard the maids gossiping about me. They said I'm lucky to be in this mansion, otherwise, I would have ended up in the slums."

With a deep breath, Yynn wiped away a tear and steeled herself for the challenges that lay ahead. Her determination to uncover the truth and find her own path burned stronger than ever.

In the comforting ambiance of the Pharawan household, Joseph sat back, contented after finishing a hearty dinner of beef stew with a rich umami flavor.

"I think it's time to call it a day," Joseph announced, his satisfaction evident in his voice.

His older sister, Rebecca, couldn't resist a playful tease. "Indeed, you should, my silly little brother."

Joseph leaned back in his chair and chuckled. "You know, that's one of the many reasons I sometimes question having you around here at home."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow and countered, "Well, that's not exactly the way a gentleman should speak to a lady."

Joseph grinned mischievously, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Oh, forgive me. I didn't realize I was in the presence of a lady."

The siblings exchanged a playful glance, their banter a familiar and cherished part of their relationship.

With a gentle smile, Rebecca rose from the dinner table, leaving Joseph to his own thoughts. "Goodnight, little brother," she responded warmly.

"Yeah, goodnight," Joseph echoed, a touch of nostalgia in his tone. "It has been a while since we had a conversation like this."

As Rebecca headed off, Joseph's heart softened. He didn't want her to think he was being genuinely rude. So, he took the initiative to wash her plates too, a playful gesture to let her know he was just teasing. In their own unique way, these siblings understood each other's sentiments well. Their interactions ranged from candid to challenging, but within the family, these dynamics were a cherished tradition, a testament to their close bond.