Chapter 1
"Gift"
The students filled the hall, and the air was filled with the soft, indistinct sound of murmuring voices and the chant, "FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" A dyed blue-ish hair popped up in the crowd, belonging to a boy with a battered face, beaten black and blue. "Mateo, have you learned your lesson?" asked a boy of the same age—a pale young man with two distinctive moles under his left eye and another at the corner of his lips, as well as one on his neck. His ash-blond hair and ear piercing made it clear that he was a delinquent."I-It's just that it was too much to handle!-" Mateo was cut off by a guy with red hair, and he was punched by him, causing him to spit blood.
"Stop playing with him; he might break." Arthur glared at his friend, warning him.
"Pfft, what a dweeb he is. Next time, you should just do our homework without complaints."
Two male students stood menacingly over the battered boy, taunting and sneering. Arthur glanced back at Mateo, his voice low and intense, "You can't escape this, you fag."
Mateo groaned as he struggled to rise, his body bruised and aching from the brutal blows he'd taken. His arms trembled as he tried to push himself off the cold, hard ground, his breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. Every movement sent sharp pain shooting through his battered limbs. Above him, Arthur stood tall and imposing, his fists clenched at his sides, his expression twisted in a smug grin. The bully's shadow loomed over Mateo, a dark silhouette against the late afternoon light, as he watched with cruel satisfaction, his eyes gleaming with dominance. "You're such a lanky weak loser, always…and forever." his eyes gleamed when Mateo trembled; his eyes were filled with cruelty. He attempted to slap the poor kid again, but stopped at the sound of the school bell, "Lucky you, I'll see you later, dweeb." At last, the poor boy was alone.
Dripping with leaking blood on the corners of his mouth and with a beaten-up face, he headed to the infirmary to also skip class. "Miss Aika, your favorite clumsy student is back," Mateo proudly said as he entered the empty infirmary. "Not you again, and what is it now, you fell down the stairs? Bumped into a pole? Or tripped on the road…you and your endless excuses." Miss Aika, a nurse of the school's infirmary, was the only one who could call Mateo a friend, even with the age gap between them. Overflowing with empathy and patience, she often found herself tending to not just physical injuries but also the emotional turmoil of the students. She sighed and fixed him right up, "Here, a present, since it's your birthday, Happy Birthday Mateo, you've grown." It's a video game, the newest game in town, 'The Land of Orandale'. Mateo was shocked to see the expensive, limited game, "W-what?! I can't accept this," He refused.
"Don't you dare refuse, Mateo, it's your gift, and as your only friend over all these years of you coming here, you must accept…"
"Change me? What do you mean-" Before Mateo could finish, she immediately pushed him out of the infirmary, "You should go, you're already late." She shut the door in Mateo's face, and he stared down at the limited game.
The day went on, and Mateo tried to ignore all the remarks of the bullies, especially Arthur, who was everything to Mateo; he looked up to him back when they were children, but it all changed when…
"Mateo, dear, you're in a daze again," a sweet voice behind him. he turned around to see his mother, an old lady, sickly and pale. "Mom! Didn't I tell you not to pick me up anymore? I'm all big now." An awkward laugh came out. His mother has been ill since his father went missing and has always been picking up his son whenever she can to ease her loneliness.
"You are my only child, my son…" A bittersweet smile appeared on her face. She knew her fate; she knew she had so little time to spend with her son. "Mom—" but before Mateo could say anything, there was a snicker behind his back,
"Hey Aunty! It's been so long." It was Arthur with his friends.
"Arthur! It's so great to see you, you're still such a gentleman, I see."Arthur wrapped his arms around her in a warm embrace, a self-satisfied smile playing on his lips as he cast a triumphant glance toward Mateo.
Mateo felt a searing rage boil within him.
Why did that two-faced bastard keep tormenting him like this?
If pretending to maintain a friendly relationship was just a cover for his cruelty, then what was the point?
Mateo's fists clenched. The thought slithered into his mind like poison: Should I end it now?
Strip away the pretense. Forget restraint. Let rage speak the truth with blood and bruises.
But even as the impulse surged, a voice deep inside whispered—
And then what?
Mateo's gaze faltered. He looked away, then quietly turned and left, leaving his mother and Arthur behind.
"Oh, Mateo—"
"It's okay, Aunty," he said, cutting her off gently. "You don't have to wait on me..."
"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.
Arthur offered her a calm, reassuring smile.
"He'll be alright," he said softly.
She nodded, still uncertain.
"Mmm... get home safe. And don't linger too long, okay?"
Mateo looked at Arthur, the words he was once aching to shout at him were now stuck in his head, ever since he came out as gay…
"What? Are you just going to stare at me? Where did the fearless, bold Mateo go?" he scoffed, walking towards Mateo, his hand reached my neck, "Did you become gay cause of me?" he smirks, as Mateo slapped him, he stared at him, caught off guard, "Why…?" the single question made Arthur freeze in place, his thoughts running all over the place, that one question he couldn't answer. Mateo took this opportunity to go back home and catch up with his mom.
A peaceful warmth as Mateo got inside his house, a small and humble abode, exudes a sense of tranquility and comfort. The exterior is painted a soft, inviting white, reflecting the sunlight and giving it a clean, bright appearance. The structure is modest, perhaps one or two stories tall, with simple windows framed in wood and a welcoming front door that opens to a warm interior. Inside, the rooms are cozy and functional, filled with the essence of family life. The walls might be adorned with photographs of his family, where his father is still alive and well. "Are you two still fighting after all these years?" His mother spoke, calming his anger, "It's been years, Mateo. Forgive him."
"Forgive him? After he— Fuck." He ran to his room, which was filled with posters of anime and painted in bright green, and was filled with different kinds of fashionable clothing he had made, trying to avoid arguing with his mother. Throwing his backpack on the big blue bean bag in the corner, he sighed and looked at his backpack that he had thrown. "We used to play all day in this room…" Memories came flooding back, the two boys sitting on the same blue bean bag, as they played video games together. "You're gay..?" The sudden thought of Arthur saying it to him made him wince; the disgust he looked at him still etches his mind.
He got up, grabbed the video game, and inserted it into his console. "Let's see what this game is really about," he said. The game started, and the title "The Land of Orandale" appeared on the screen, though it was pixelated and glitchy. "...What the—? It doesn't even work", the console suddenly sparked. Mateo quickly grabbed his water bottle and threw it at the console to prevent it from catching fire. Mateo picks up the console with both hands, its weight uneven and the casing slightly ajar. Noticing something off, he tilts it upward, squinting as he brings it closer to eye level. The underside is scuffed and cracked, with a thin wire dangling loosely; he turns it in the light to inspect the damage more clearly. Fingers curl around the console's edges, lifting it with care. A strange weight shift and metallic rattle prompt a closer look—tilted upward, the underside catches the light. Without warning, the side of the console erupts in a violent pop, scattering plastic and smoke as scorched wiring spills from the torn casing."Shit… this was a gift. I should fix this old thing." He checked the game—it was completely intact. He carefully placed the item back into his bag, ensuring it was secure among his other belongings. Then, with a sigh of resignation, he flopped down onto his bed, feeling the soft mattress embrace him. As he settled in, he thought to himself, "I'll just carry it to school tomorrow." The idea of bringing it along felt manageable, and he hoped that by morning, he would feel more prepared for the day ahead.