Chapter: The Things That Prove Nothing
The barking came before the dream could finish.
Sharp. Loud. Too close.
"Woof—woof—woof!"
Ter's body jerked as if someone had grabbed him from underwater. His heart slammed against his ribs, breath stuck halfway in his chest. For a second, he didn't know where he was. His room felt unfamiliar. The walls looked wrong in the half-light, shadows stretching longer than they should have.
The barking didn't stop.
Something warm pressed against him. Small claws dug into his blanket.
"Lego…" Ter muttered, voice cracked with sleep.
The puppy jumped straight onto his chest, tail wagging violently, nose inches from Ter's face. He licked Ter's chin like his life depended on it.
Ter groaned and turned his head away, squinting against the light sneaking through the curtains. His arm throbbed faintly—an old ache, dull and constant. He ignored it.
"Okay, okay," he murmured.
He reached for his phone, fingers clumsy, vision still blurred.
The screen lit up.
7:00 AM.
The number didn't make sense at first.
Then reality slammed into him.
Ter shot upright so fast Lego yelped and stumbled backward, then barked happily like this was a game.
"No—no, no, no—"
Ter threw the blanket off, nearly tripping as he jumped out of bed. His heart raced, panic spreading cold through his veins. He was late. Again. His mind started listing consequences automatically—teacher's glare, attendance, questions he didn't want to answer.
"Why didn't you wake me earlier?" he muttered at Lego, even though the puppy had clearly tried.
Lego barked proudly.
The house felt unnaturally quiet as Ter rushed through it. Water splashed against his face in the bathroom, too cold, shocking him fully awake. He scrubbed his skin harder than necessary, like he could wash something off that wasn't dirt.
He dressed quickly, shirt buttoned wrong, then fixed. His reflection looked tired. Hollow. His eyes lingered on his arm for half a second before he pulled the sleeve down.
In the kitchen, he poured food into Lego's bowl. The sound echoed too loudly. Lego attacked it with enthusiasm, tail hitting the cabinet again and again.
Ter grabbed a piece of bread, barely chewing as he shoved it into his mouth. Hunger didn't exist anymore. Only motion.
"I'll be back," he said, grabbing his bag.
Lego barked once.
It sounded almost worried.
School swallowed him whole.
The gates were crowded, students squeezing through like nothing in the world had ever gone wrong. Ter slipped in just before they closed, breath still uneven. The noise hit him immediately—voices, laughter, lockers slamming, shoes scraping.
Too loud.
Too alive.
Ran spotted him first.
"You look terrible," Ran said bluntly.
Ter shrugged. "Good morning to you too."
Farm smiled faintly. "Late again?"
"Lego doesn't believe in alarms," Ter replied.
For a moment, it felt almost normal.
Then Win arrived.
He walked toward them slowly, posture calm, expression blank. Ter felt it instantly—something heavy settling in his chest. Not anger. Not fear.
Avoidance.
Their eyes met briefly.
Nothing was said.
They walked together toward class, conversation thin, careful. Win stayed quiet. Ter didn't fill the silence.
Then Ran slowed.
"Did you hear?" he asked.
Ter frowned. "Hear what?"
Ran's jaw tightened. "Studentfrom our class is die..… someone took pictures of him. Secretly. Someone sold them on illegal sites."
Farm stopped walking. "What?"
"Rumors started. Then blackmail," Ran continued. His voice dropped lower. "He couldn't handle it."
Ter's steps slowed.
"He killed himself."
The words landed like a punch to the chest.
The hallway noise dulled, like someone had shoved cotton into Ter's ears. He didn't speak. Didn't ask who. Didn't ask how.
Farm whispered, "Where did you hear this?"
Ran pulled out his phone. "It's everywhere. Didn't you check yesterday?"
Ter hadn't.
He stared straight ahead.
Something cold crawled up his spine.
The investigation began quietly.
Teachers whispered behind closed doors. Names were spoken and swallowed quickly. Students watched each other differently now—longer stares, sudden silences when someone approached.
Fear lived in the corners.
Win stopped coming to school.
One day passed.
Then another.
By the end of the week, his seat felt like it had never been filled at all.
At first, Ter noticed.
Then he didn't.
He moved seats.
New students. New laughter. Louder. Reckless.
Ran didn't like it.
"That attitude isn't good," Ran warned one afternoon. "You don't know them."
Ter leaned back in his chair. "Neither did I know you once."
Farm looked uneasy. "Ter—"
But Ter had already turned away.
The new boys talked about strength. About pain. About fear being weakness.
They didn't look scared.
That mattered more than Ter wanted to admit.
It happened in the middle of class.
The teacher's voice droned on, meaningless. Ter stared at his notebook without seeing it.
Movement beside him caught his eye.
Metal.
A boy slid something sharp from his pocket. Another casually rolled up his sleeve, like this was routine.
Ter's stomach tightened.
"What are you doing?" he whispered.
The boy smirked. "Proving something."
The blade touched skin.
A thin red line appeared.
Ter sucked in a breath. "Stop."
The boy laughed softly. "You scared?"
Ran noticed.
"What the hell are you doing?" Ran snapped, standing up. "That's stupid. Hurting yourself to prove something?"
The boy scoffed.
Ter stayed quiet.
Then he spoke, voice flat. "I'm a man too."
Ran turned sharply. "Ter, don't."
Ter reached out.
The blade was cold.
Heavy.
He pressed it to his arm.
And cut.
Pain bloomed sharp and immediate—but he didn't react. Blood spilled fast, bright against his skin, dripping onto the floor.
Gasps filled the room.
Someone screamed.
Ter stood up slowly, blood running down his fingers. His face didn't change. His heart didn't race.
"I got injured by the table," he said calmly to the teacher. "May I go to the medical room?"
The lie slid out smoothly.
Too smoothly.
The next day, he did it again.
The blade felt familiar now.
Comforting.
Proof that he could feel something and still stand.
Then—
A hand closed around his wrist.
Hard.
The blade flew across the floor, clattering loudly.
"Who the hell—"
Ter looked up.
Win.
His face was darker than Ter remembered. His eyes sharp, dangerous, furious.
For a moment, the room seemed to tilt.
Win grabbed Ter's arm, fingers digging into skin. "What is this shit?"
Ter tried to hide it.
Win yanked his arm back.
"You think this makes you strong?" Win snapped.
"Let go," Ter said quietly.
Win didn't.
"You're hurting yourself—"
Ter shoved him hard.
"Who the hell are you to talk to me like this?" Ter shouted. "This is my body! I can do whatever I want!"
The class froze.
Win stood stunned.
Ran rushed forward and shoved Ter. Ter shoved back.
Farm screamed, "Stop! Both of you!"
Ter grabbed his bag and stormed out.
Win followed.
"Ter!"
Ter turned, eyes burning. "Don't follow me."
Win stopped.
And the silence that followed was worse than any scream.