'Ugochukwu,'
'Yes, please.' Ugochukwu's heart clenched at the coldness in Wale's voice. The formality stung like a lash. It had been months since Wale last addressed him with such distance—he had long ceased to be 'Ugochukwu, N.' and had simply become 'Ugo' or sometimes 'Gochu' in their shared slang of friendship.
Wale sat rigidly behind the common room table, elbows resting on the dark mahogany as though bracing against a storm. Ugochukwu stood across from him, as if summoned to a tribunal. The air was sharp with tension.
'Why didn't you tell me?' Wale asked at last, his voice low but edged. 'After everything—why didn't you warn me?'
'Warn you about what, please?' Ugochukwu replied, confused but already sweating. His instincts screamed that something deeper lay beneath the surface.
'Don't play games with me, young man.' Wale's voice turned steely. 'You've lived under my nose all term. I've stood by you since your first week here. Made you my junior boy. Defended you against bullies. And now this? This leopard madness?'
Ugochukwu swallowed hard. The room was shrinking.
'I'm not a leopard, please,' he said, voice cracking as he fought back tears.
Wale looked away for a moment, as if embarrassed to witness the boy's unraveling.
'Then why is your name tied to every whisper about the leopard?' Wale asked. 'Emeka spent two weeks at your house. He came back shaken. Said he saw things—things no one should ever see. When I asked him, he didn't mince words. Said he saw a transformation. That your spirit controls a leopard.'
Ugochukwu's head dropped. The shame, the disbelief, the betrayal—they surged together.
'I'm not a leopard!' he cried, unable to stop the tears now flowing freely. 'I swear on everything I know. Yes, strange things happened at home. But I have nothing to do with what's been happening here. I swear it, sir.'
'Keep your voice down,' Wale warned. 'Remember you're speaking to a prefect.'
'I'm sorry, sir. But it's not true. Please.'
Wale sighed, rubbing his forehead.
'I never imagined this would come from Emeka. He's your friend. You gave him food, your bed. You defended him when others mocked his accent. And he comes back with this?'
Ugochukwu said nothing. The silence spoke more than tears.
'Let's get to the point,' Wale continued. 'There's a leopard here on campus. It's been spotted four times. The last time, it almost stole through the senior dormitory. The Principal is furious. Orders have come down. They'll hunt it. And they'll kill it. If it's tied to any student…'
Ugochukwu nodded, trembling. 'Yes, sir.'
'Good. One more thing—until this is resolved, I want distance between us. You understand?'
'Yes, sir.'
Wale watched him leave, his heart a tangle of confusion. He had hoped for some denial, or at least some explanation. What he saw instead was a boy broken, afraid, and desperately trying to remain whole.
Could Ugochukwu really be the one?
If it had come from anyone but Emeka, Wale might have dismissed it as boarding school gossip. But Emeka had been firm—detailed, too specific. Yet... Wale wasn't convinced. How could a boy like Ugochukwu—so gentle, so soft-spoken—harbour something so savage?
Wale knew the school was on edge. The Principal dismissed it as folklore, but the leopard's footprints didn't lie. The scratch marks on windows, the stolen food. There was no doubting that something feral now prowled the edges of Government College.
Ugochukwu walked out in a daze. Betrayed. Emeka had promised. Before they left his home in Ndikelionwu, Ugochukwu had confided in him—partially. Enough to explain the fear. Enough to beg for silence.
And Emeka had sworn. Sworn by God, by truth, by their friendship.
And now this.
If only he could return home and speak to Dibia Ozo. But with the way things stood, no prefect would grant an exeat, especially not to him.
He had already written home—urging his father to see the dibia. The presence of another leopard—if it wasn't his—posed grave danger. And if it was his, then something was horribly, uncontrollably wrong.
As he stood lost in thought by the old day-room steps, a familiar voice broke his haze.
'Hey, Ugo!'
Ugochukwu turned. Emeka.
'Oh... hi, Emeka.' His voice was flat, devoid of warmth.
'What's the matter?' Emeka asked, feigning innocence. 'You look like you've seen a ghost.'
Ugochukwu stared at him for a moment.
'Nothing. Just thinking.'
Emeka smiled. 'Well, stop thinking and come beat me in table tennis. I'm tired of winning easy games.'
'I don't think so.'
'C'mon! You promised you'd play me this week.'
Ugochukwu hesitated. An idea formed. 'Okay. But let's walk first. I need to stretch my legs.'
'Sure thing, captain.'
As they walked past the senior blocks and veered towards the disused clinic path, Emeka rambled on—complaining about missing social nights, the stingy refectory portions, and how unfair it was that only senior boys got to talk to the girls from Ogbanelu during orientation.
Ugochukwu didn't respond. Not once.
When they reached the secluded corridor between the clinic and the now-abandoned bucket latrine building, he stopped.
Emeka paused, puzzled. 'What's this about?'
Ugochukwu took a step forward. 'Why did you do it?'
'Do what?'
'You went around telling people I'm a leopard. You broke your word, Emeka.'
Emeka blinked. 'Well, you weren't exactly honest either. You said it was over. You swore the powers had been sealed. And yet—since we returned—there's been a leopard every other week. So, who's the liar here?'
Ugochukwu's anger surged. 'Who told you it's my leopard?'
'Everyone knows, Ugo! Who else has a leopard history? You think the school doesn't notice the pattern? You think Wale's blind?'
Before Emeka could finish, Ugochukwu's right hand flew.
Twang! The slap stung Emeka's cheek.
'You lied,' Ugochukwu hissed. 'You betrayed me.'
'You're mad!' Emeka gasped.
Twang! The left hand followed, harder.
Then, with a burst of rage, Ugochukwu tackled him. He wasn't trained in American football. But he knew how to wrestle.
In seconds, Emeka lay facedown, arms pinned behind his back, gasping in the red sand.
'You ate my food,' Ugochukwu growled. 'You slept in my house. I defended you. I trusted you.'
Emeka coughed. 'And you brought a leopard to school! You want me to die?!'
'I told you—it's not mine anymore!' Ugochukwu shouted, gripping tighter. 'If you say anything about this fight—anything—I will show you what a leopard can do. Tear bone, flesh, and soul!'
He saw a shadow approaching—a boy perhaps, returning from prep. Without a word, Ugochukwu released his grip and bolted.
Emeka remained in the dirt, chest heaving.