Chapter 15: Why on earth are you talking such… utter nonsense?!
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Warm sunlight streamed through the wooden window slats in a narrow beam, making the floating dust particles look like golden specks dancing in the middle of the room. The scent of old wood mixed with damp soil from the garden outside lingered in the air—so quiet that even the distant rhythm of a bird's call could be heard.
I slowly opened my eyes. My body still ached from last night, but the first thing I saw wasn't the ceiling or the window—it was P'Teer, sitting right beside me. He leaned slightly on the chair, one hand on his lap, the other resting on the armrest. Strands of hair fell lightly over his forehead. His eyes were closed, breathing steady, like a tired child who insisted on watching over someone despite exhaustion.
My chest tightened in a strange way—touched, but too shy to say anything. If I spoke, I'd probably get teased for free. So I just smiled faintly to myself. Damn, he's handsome.
Carefully, I moved and took the blanket I'd used last night, gently draping it over his broad shoulders. In the deep silence, this small gesture felt like a drum pounding inside my chest.
"Go back to sleep, Teer…" I whispered so softly I could barely hear myself. Then I tiptoed out slowly, afraid my footsteps might wake him.
Outside, my friends were starting to wake up one by one, stretching and complaining, competing with the birds in noise.
"Ouch…who keeps moving? I almost fell off the bed!" Jan groaned while yawning.
"It's you who kicked me first," James mumbled groggily in reply.
Maria chuckled dryly. "Typical guys…even asleep, still fighting."
I shook my head, chuckling softly before walking over to join them. The teasing and playful banter made the atmosphere feel relaxed—so different from last night, which had nearly killed us all.
Sunlight streamed through the wooden window slats, falling on the shiny floor in streaks. Birds chirped softly in the distance, blending with the sound of our footsteps as we slowly entered the classroom, still looking like walking corpses from the early morning.
The strict-looking teacher was already waiting—tall, with streaks of white in his hair. He adjusted his glasses slightly before lifting his gaze to look at us one by one. His eyes were calm, as if he could read our thoughts.
"Awake at last, are we? How are you feeling… From this morning's state, you all seem as if you're carrying a mountain on your backs."
His voice was clear and firm, deep yet tinged with concern, prompting a few dry laughs from our friends.
I stepped in and sat down. The wooden chair squeaked loudly against the floor. Many eyes turned toward me… and of course, one gaze I least wanted to meet.
Nita lifted her head from the small fan in her hand, her bright red lips curling into a sly smile. A soft laugh escaped before she spoke words full of venom:
"Oh… I thought I might have died. This morning, you're shaking more than a puppy in a storm."
Several of her friends laughed loudly, filling the room. I blinked, took a deep breath… my heart, still sore from last night, tightened with annoyance.
I looked her squarely in the eyes—slightly furrowed brows, lips curved faintly, trying not to lose face. Her tone was calm but sharp, making some students pause.
"I don't understand why you insist on mocking me so much… no, I should ask, what business do you have with us? Why do you always have to find fault?"
I paused, stared at her for a moment, then let out a short chuckle.
"Or perhaps, you are merely a mirror of yourselves… for every word you speak only reflects back upon you."
A soft murmur ran through our classmates. Some even covered their mouths to laugh quietly. Nita's face twitched, but she forced a smile, pretending not to be affected.
She jumped up from the mat, nearly pointing at me, but the teacher's firm voice rang out immediately:
"That's enough!"
The classroom fell silent. The sound of wind rustling leaves outside grew sharper
Nita froze, gripping her fan so tightly it trembled in her hand, but her eyes still burned with fury. Beside her, her closest friend stomped lightly and pointed at us, a sharp, mocking tone slicing through the air.
"Teacher! But they… they're beneath us, thinking they can match us! I won't tolerate it any longer!"
Her voice pierced the room, sharp enough to make the air itself shiver.
Kwan-Khao, sitting a seat away, quickly shifted, trying to calm her friend. Her voice was sweet but rushed.
"Nita… enough. Don't speak too far."
Instead of helping, it only made it seem like she was "taking her friend's side."
The teacher set his notebook down with a soft but firm thud.
"You two spoke first. I haven't even seen what they would do. They just woke from fatigue, haven't said a word yet."
In the stunned silence that followed, his low, precise voice continued.
"And truly… as Warun said, if you spent more time looking into a mirror, perhaps you wouldn't keep finding fault in others without considering your own reflection."
The words hit like a hammer to the chest. Nita's face stiffened like stone, flushed with anger and embarrassment. Her lips trembled slightly, but no words came out.
I lowered my eyes slightly, hiding a quiet smile. Even the teacher wasn't messing around.
The classroom fell utterly silent, as if the only sound left was everyone's breathing swirling in the still air. We quietly returned to our seats, no one daring to argue further.
The morning lessons continued under the soft sunlight streaming onto the polished floor, until the teacher's wooden pointer rapped sharply once more.
"All right. That's enough for today."
A collective sigh rose, and one by one, everyone packed up and left, like wind passing through the room and disappearing—leaving only the quiet shadows lingering in my heart.