The classroom was already empty. The sky outside looked gray, and rain was falling slowly against the window. Harold sat alone at his desk, watching the drops descend as if mimicking the contents of his own head—heavy and directionless.
He stared at his own reflection in the windowpane. That face seemed unfamiliar.
"Why am I like this?" he muttered quietly.
Earlier that afternoon, in the cafeteria, he had seen Ratna's eyes.
Not anger, not hatred—but fear.
Fear because of him.
And for the first time, Harold felt guilty.
He called me Rey…
Ratna's soft voice still echoed in his head, making his chest tighten.
Harold lowered his gaze, clenching his own hand. The hand that used to punch tables and shove people now felt heavy just to make a fist.
"A guy like me..." he whispered, "...makes people afraid, not out of respect. But because of my own stupidity."
He took a long, deep breath.
He had always wanted to win, always wanted to be on top. But he didn't know when, that victory had begun to feel hollow.
Maybe it was since Ratna looked at him with a different gaze—not admiration, not hatred, but one of pity.
"Funny," he said softly, "I've been defeated by a feeling I don't even understand."
The rain outside intensified. Its sound drowned out his thoughts, but it wasn't enough to extinguish the guilt pressing down on his chest.
Harold closed his eyes for a moment.
He knew there was nothing he could do to erase all the bad things that had already stuck to him.
But maybe… he could still learn to be a better person, little by little.
___
The next morning, Harold arrived earlier than usual. He usually only showed up when the bell was about to ring, but that morning, he was already sitting in class before anyone else arrived.
He opened a book, pretending to read, even though his mind was wandering.
When Ratna and Helen entered, Harold glanced up quickly. Ratna immediately looked down, but Harold didn't say anything. He just stared for a moment, then returned to his book.
"I find it strange, Harold is so quiet," Helen whispered to Ratna.
Ratna just shook her head slowly, trying to ward off the vague nervousness she felt.
Throughout the day, Harold didn't talk much. He didn't mock anyone, didn't join in the rough jokes, and didn't even stare at Ratna for too long.
Only occasionally, when the lesson ended, did he look out the window—at the school yard that was beginning to dry up after the night's rain.
A few of his gang members noticed.
"Bro, you sick?" one of them asked.
Harold just shook his head, "Nah. Just lazy to fight."
They chuckled softly, but Harold didn't join them. He only managed a faint smile.
Something had changed, but even he didn't know what it was yet.
For the first time, Harold felt more at peace in silence than in victory.
___
In the late afternoon, Harold walked alone down the school hallway. At the end of the corridor, he saw a group of female students clustered together, giggling as they looked toward the restroom.
He paused briefly, staring at them with a furrowed brow.
Somehow, he had a bad feeling.
But he only stood still for a few seconds, then walked away.
Behind him, the girls' laughter was still audible, soft yet sharp—like something bad was waiting to happen.
Harold turned his head one last time, but finally sighed and walked out of the building.
"Just forget it," he mumbled. "I don't want to meddle in other people's business anymore."
But for some reason, his steps felt heavy.
He didn't know that small decision—not to look back—would make him regret it later.