When Quiet Moments Speak the Loudest

Kind's Pov

Kind's heart pounded as the car rolled into Damak, the unfamiliar landscape passing by in a blur. Four hours of travel hadn't eased the tight knot in his chest. He knew everything was about to change, but he had no idea how, or if he even wanted it to.

The car came to an abrupt stop in front of a modest house. Kind's gaze bounced nervously from the windows to the door, waiting for something—anything—to happen. Trying to sound casual, he asked, "Did we make it to our new digs?" but his voice cracked slightly.

His mom, Moon, didn't answer immediately. He could hear the workers unloading his things, the creak of boxes being moved. The house looked nice enough, small but cozy. Not a mansion, but it would do. Still, a gnawing feeling twisted inside him. Was this where everything would change?

"Kind, your room is upstairs, on your right," his dad called from the doorway, barely looking up.

Kind's stomach turned. It wasn't the first time his parents had spoken to him like that—distant, detached. It was like they were breaking him down, little by little. But he didn't let it show. He nodded quietly, grabbed his things, and made his way toward the stairs.

His new room was brighter than he expected. It wasn't much, but the mini-fridge and the TV on the wall were a nice touch. There was even a small balcony overlooking the neighborhood. It was an upgrade from the room he'd left behind, but still, something felt off.

Kind opened the first box, pulled out his favorite books, and placed them carefully on the shelf. A tiny sense of comfort washed over him, but it was fleeting. He moved through the rest of the boxes, setting up his room with mechanical precision.

Finally, only two things remained: Lord Ganesha's idol and his journal. Without a second thought, he picked them up, holding them close for a moment, then set them down gently on the study table. "Now it's your time," he whispered to himself.

It was nearly 8 p.m., and with nothing else to do, Kind opened his journal and began to write, letting the words spill out, the rhythm of his pen soothing his racing thoughts.

But then his mother's voice interrupted the quiet.

"Kind, come down, let's eat."

Kind closed his journal with a soft sigh and walked downstairs. The warmth of the kitchen greeted him, and the smell of dinner filled the air.

"Mom, what's for dinner?" he asked, trying to sound cheerful, even though he felt far from it.

Moon looked up from the stove, offering him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Come see for yourself."

Kind took a seat at the table, waiting for the rest of the family to join him. As they began to eat, Moon finally broke the silence.

"Did you get your school uniform?" she asked, her tone flat.

Kind nodded. "It's on the sofa in the hall."

Moon gave a quick nod. "And which school are you going to?"

"Bell's Secondary," Kind replied, a slight frown pulling at his brow. He didn't know much about the school, just that it was nearby.

Moon's gaze flickered for a moment, before she flashed a smile that felt too wide. "It's close. I chose it because it's a friend's school. I can keep an eye on you there."

Kind's stomach dropped. Keep an eye on me? He wanted to ask more but stayed silent, the unease tightening in his chest.

After dinner, Kind retreated to his room, his mind heavy as he collapsed into bed.

The next morning came too quickly. Kind threw himself out of bed, pulling on his uniform with quick, mechanical movements. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The boy staring back at him seemed like a stranger. I look good, he thought, but it felt hollow.

He grabbed his backpack, gave a silent nod to Lord Ganesha's idol, and headed downstairs. But when he reached the bottom, he froze. His sister was dressed in a completely different school uniform, one that looked... normal.

"Why is she wearing a different uniform?" Kind asked, confusion lacing his voice.

Moon didn't look up from the stove. "She's going to a different school."

Kind's brow furrowed. "Why? Why isn't she going to Bell's?"

"Because you're going to an all-boys school," Moon replied, her voice sharper now.

"All-boys school?" Kind repeated, his heart sinking.

Moon's gaze hardened. "Yeah. Now sit down and eat. We're leaving soon."

Kind stood there for a moment, his unease turning into full-blown confusion. Without a word, he turned and left, stepping outside with a sense of urgency.

The moment Kind set foot on school grounds, the whispers started. They followed him like a shadow.

"He's a first-year, right?" "He looks smart." "He's good looking."

Kind felt his skin crawl as their eyes burned into him. He didn't know why, but the attention made him uncomfortable.

He kept his head down, walking quickly, trying to avoid eye contact. When he reached the principal's office, he paused for a second to calm his nerves before knocking.

"Sir, may I come in?" he asked, his voice steady but soft.

The principal looked up from his desk, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Come in, Kind."

"You're the new student, right?" the principal asked.

Kind nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat.

"Can I help you with something?" the principal asked.

"I just need to know where my class is... and... I need a library card and an ID card," Kind replied, his voice quieter than he intended.

The principal raised an eyebrow. "A library card? No one asks for that on their first day."

Kind shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I like to be prepared."

The principal chuckled, handing him the ID and library card. "I like that. Here's everything you need."

Soon, Kind found himself walking down the hallway with Mr. Limbu, a tall, broad-shouldered teacher. He was silent, eyes darting around, feeling like an outsider.

When they reached the classroom, Kind hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. The weight of the change pressed down on him. Nothing was the same anymore.

"Morning, class. This is Kind, a new addition to our class," Mr. Limbu said, gesturing toward Kind.

"Hi, I'm Kind Roy," Kind mumbled, forcing a smile.

"Kind, go sit with Win," Mr. Limbu said, pointing toward a desk in the back of the room. "He'll help you while you're here."

Kind nodded and walked to the desk, setting down his bag. He smiled faintly at the boy sitting next to him.

"Nice watch," Win said, glancing at Kind's wrist. "Is it a Rolex?"

Kind nodded, though his mind was elsewhere.

The class felt like a blur. The people, the noise, everything felt so... distant. Like he was part of it, but not really.

At lunch, Win led him to an empty table. The usual chatter around the canteen seemed muted as Kind sat, trying to make sense of the strange feeling gnawing at him.

"Go ahead, eat. You'll need the energy," Win said casually. "Just don't ask about the toppers yet. You'll figure that out soon enough."

Kind's stomach twisted. "Toppers? What's that?"

Win smiled vaguely. "It's... something you'll learn about. But not yet."

As the days went by, Kind's unease grew. Classes felt like they had hidden meaning, like there was something no one was telling him. It wasn't until a day in Mr. Limbu's class that it became clear.

Mid-lesson, the teacher suddenly stopped and turned his gaze onto Kind, his calm demeanor shifting into something more intense.

"Kind, come up here and help me with something," Mr. Limbu said.

Kind froze. He slowly made his way to the front of the class, feeling all eyes on him. When he stood before the whiteboard, Mr. Limbu leaned in, his voice a low whisper.

"I've been watching you, Kind. You're not who you say you are."

Kind's heart skipped a beat. What was that supposed to mean?

Before he could respond, Mr. Limbu straightened up and spoke to the class in a normal tone, as if nothing had happened.

"Alright, class, let's continue."

Kind stood there, dumbfounded, trying to make sense of what just happened. The class was silent, everyone staring at him, waiting.

His mind raced, trying to understand. And then it hit him—this school wasn't just about learning. It was about testing, about control, about manipulation. The "toppers" were the chosen ones. And Kind? He wasn't sure where he fit into all of this.

Before he could think further, the door slammed open.

"Enough!" a sharp voice cut through the room.

It was the principal.

He locked eyes with Mr. Limbu. "I told you to stay away from him."

Mr. Limbu smirked. "I was just showing him the truth."

The principal's gaze hardened. "No, you were pushing him. That's not your role here."

The tension in the room was thick, and Kind's hands shook.

"Kind," the principal said, turning to him, "You're not just any student here. You're part of something much bigger."

Kind's chest tightened. What did that mean?