No sane person chose to go there.
But to think he wouldn't be seeing her disappointed face and the fear in her eyes whenever he appeared before her... Maybe he belonged there more.
He looked at the woman beside him through the window reflection. Her short brown hair was tied in a ponytail, her expression calm as she stared forward.
Couldn't she look worried? He sighed.
The bus came to a stop. Only after it did, she turned to him. "We're here."
She rose from the seat, took the suitcase from the compartment, and without hesitation stepped outside.
He took a deep breath, grabbed his backpack, and followed her.
Soon they stood outside facing the huge iron gate. The wall stretched longer and thicker than how he saw it through the window. Behind that fence was silence, and only trees were visible.
At the gate, huge painted characters glared back: Goldleaf High School.
His forehead knitted. Was he really going to Goldleaf?
The rumors he had heard came back to him instantly: students straight from juvenile detentions, teachers who break them, suffocating rules, and hellish punishments.
Everything meant to make sure a student regretted whatever he left outside the walls. In short, it was more of a discipline academy, not far from a juvenile detention, even if they called it a high school.
And why, of all schools, did his mother think this was better for him? It wasn't like he had ever gone to juvie.
His mother walked forward and stopped at the small cabin near the gate.
Inside sat an old man whose hair had almost turned completely gray, dressed in a blue guard uniform.
"Good morning," she said.
The guard looked up. "Morning."
The guard glanced at the boy, then turned back to her.
"This is my son," she told him. "He's starting here today."
He nodded. "Follow this road. It goes straight to the office."
"Thank you."
They started walking along the brick road as directed, his mother pushing the suitcase.
He could guess a few reasons why she chose this place, but the closest to the truth was that this was her way of getting rid of him. He couldn't blame her, though.
The campus stretched endlessly. Even after five minutes, they hadn't reached the office. His brows furrowed deeper with each step.
After passing the road surrounded by tall trees, mansions with verandas came into view. From their architecture, they seemed not from this era, but the well-trimmed gardens, quiet and calm, made everything worthy.
The road was lined with trees, and petals slowly fell from them. When he moved his eyes to the left side, his pupils widened and his steps slowed.
There stretched a long mountain, its peak covered with striking snow surrounded by clouds. Was that thing real?
It was his first time seeing such a sight, and he was truly stunned, letting that snowy ice reflect in his wide eyes. It seemed like he could reach it, but he was sure it was far away.
The moment she noticed the silence and turned, he had already started walking again, still with his gloomy expression, as if he was about to face a life crisis.
She exhaled deeply. Maybe one day he would understand her intentions.
Soon, his eyes narrowed as he read the words atop the huge stone building: Administration Block.
It was morning, and students were in class.
Soon they stood at one of the offices with the sign above the door: Vice Principal.
She knocked, and a deep voice allowed them inside.
For the first time, he was meeting one of Goldleaf's teachers. Teachers who crushed gangsters? Immediately, he pictured a tall guy with muscles and a stern face. He stiffened.
The man behind the desk, with a heavy build, fuller cheeks, and a soft jawline, looked up and smiled. "Have a seat," he gently told them.
'This is what Goldleaf's teachers look like?' he thought as he sat across from him. He expected someone scarier. Instead, he smiled. No, this must be because it was his first day and he had a parent with him.
The nameplate on the desk glinted: Vice Principal Luken.
Luken's gaze stopped over the boy's long auburn hair, which reached his shoulders.
"His hair exceeds our standard length," the principal said, his tone serious but without urgency.
His mother's gaze shifted toward her son. How many times had he refused to cut it?
"I'm sorry. That won't cause any problems going forward, right?"
Luken remained silent for a moment as he looked at the boy. The boy seemed lost, his eyes frozen in the same place.
His mother nudged him. He woke up from his thoughts and met the stern stare of the vice principal.
"What's your name?" Luken asked
He swallowed and forced out, "Christan... Vance."
"Christan. Do you have any questions?"
Christan's fingers tightened on his knees. His heart rate quickened. He did have questions. Were the rumors true?
But wasn't he already here? He would be the one to prove them.
"No… I don't."
"Good."
Luken's fingers played on the keyboard. "You were supposed to bring some documents."
His mother immediately took the files from Christan's backpack and gave them to the principal.
Luken flipped through the pages, scanning each document. From the date of birth, Christan was 16. The hobbies page was blank, same as his future career. He had only one guardian, a single mother who was a nurse.
When it came to health... Luken narrowed his eyes slightly. The kid had post-traumatic stress disorder. He couldn't ask what caused that, so he flipped to other pages.
"He moved from six schools?" Luken asked as he read the numbers with a little surprise. "For bullying incidents."
She sighed. "Yes. This is his seventh school. I hope he won't go through that here."
Luken nodded. So this woman brought her son here because she believed the strict rules would protect him from naughty kids. She was thoughtful.
"Rest assured," he added as he handed her a paper. "We need some confirmations. After you sign here and give your contacts, you understand you won't see your son for three years, and students aren't permitted phones or any other similar accessories."
She glanced at Christan. Three years? It wasn't that long compared to the benefits he would have by studying here. Besides, there were visiting days.
She turned to Luken. "I understand. Where do I sign?"
As Luken directed her to the signature line, Christan's shoulders fell.
"You'll have to say your goodbyes here. The rest of the process requires only him."
She smiled. "Of course." She stood up. "Thank you, Principal."
Mother and son walked out together. After getting a few paces from the office door, she stopped. She took a deep breath and stared at him.
"Chris… I just want you to have a better future. Do well here. Okay?"
He stared at the woman in front of him. He should say something. All he needed to say was that she would regret it.
Mrs. Vance waited for him to say anything, but it was in vain. He was always like that. He never showed his feelings to anyone, and even as his mother, she didn't know what he thought, and it pained her... just like now.
Christan took the suitcase from her and started walking away.
Mrs. Vance's heart ached. Wouldn't he really say anything?
After a few steps, he stopped and turned to her. "Don't worry... Mother. I will do well," he said, giving a faint smile.
Hearing that, Mrs. Vance almost cracked her calm composure. She shouldn't show that she was also reluctant to leave him here.
With that, Christan left without looking back to start his new journey at his new school.