At 11:00 a.m., Al strolled toward school. His classes still started in the afternoon—special sessions mixed with students who had morning commitments.
But just before reaching the school gate, a group of teenage thugs blocked his path. One had fake blond hair, ripped jeans, and hair oil whose stench rivaled diesel fuel.
"Heh, you're the kid who messed with Young Master Rudi yesterday, right?"
Al paused.
"Which Young Master?"
"Playing dumb now?" the blond thug spat. "A poor street kid like you has the nerve to mess with the heir of the Norvalien family?"
Another thug sneered:
"Your clothes are shabby, your style fake elite. You're just a village kid lost in the city."
Al shrugged.
"All done?"
He tried to step past them, but one thug pushed on his chest roughly.
"Still so cool? Teach him a lesson!"
Two of them rushed forward, but before they could touch Al…
"DUG! DUG!!"
Two swift kicks landed perfectly on chests and bellies. The thugs flew backward like punching bags.
A girl jumped down from the fence, landing lightly on one foot in a martial pose.
"Enough!"
Her voice was loud, clear, filled with moral authority.
High ponytail, crisp uniform, eyes sharp with determination. She was Rina—the vice leader of a traditional martial arts group in Makazhar and a member of the Indorosia Martial Arts Association.
"Aren't you ashamed to bully a student in broad daylight? It's disgraceful!"
The thugs panicked.
"T-That's Miss Rina! Crazy!"
"Stay out of this—this is our business!"
The blond leader stepped forward.
"Sorry, Miss Rina, but this isn't your concern! It's between this brat and Young Master Rudi."
"Rudi? Rudi Norvalien? Then tell him—not me—don't act out just because he's from a wealthy family." Rina shot back, pointing at the thug.
Then Rina turned to Al—realizing he wore the same school uniform as her.
"You go here? Why haven't I seen you before?"
Al let out a small sigh, feeling more trouble coming.
"I just joined… afternoon class."
Seeing the scene unraveling, the thugs stepped back slowly and issued one final warning.
"Remember our names… and know that Young Master Rudi won't forget this!"
Then they fled.
They never introduced themselves. Weird people, Al thought.
He nodded at Rina.
"Thanks… I'll go first."
He turned to leave, but Rina called out immediately.
"Wait. What's your name?"
Al stopped, paused. But since she helped him, he answered briefly.
"Al. Grade 12-X."
"Al, huh… Okay."
Rina pulled a piece of paper from her backpack pocket, scribbled on it, and handed it to him.
"This is my number. If they bother you again, contact me right away. Don't hesitate."
Al took it with a neutral expression.
How do I contact her if they're bothering me right now? This girl's weird too, he thought.
"Thanks."
"Alright, I have to go!"
Rina darted off like a lightning shadow—fast and graceful, like a martial arts protagonist in a manga.
Al studied the paper.
"Huff… what a hassle."
He slowly tucked it into his pocket. Still half-drowsy, he continued calmly toward school.
---
At 4:00 p.m., the school bell rang loudly. Students poured out—some to the cafeteria, others heading home. And of course—some sneaked off teachers' radar, like Al.
He walked briskly, eager to go home. His pace slowed in front of a small jewelry shop. On display was a modest necklace: a crescent-shaped gold pendant adorned with a small moss-green gemstone.
A good gift in return.
Without second thoughts, he entered, pointed at the necklace, and paid in cash. The cashier was surprised—kids Al's age usually just window-shop, not buy.
Al rushed back to Indra's house to deliver the gift to Indra's mother.
Hearing the knock, she opened the door. Her face lit up as she saw Al holding a small box.
"Oh, Al? You've finished school already?"
"Yes, Auntie, just stopped by quickly."
He handed the box over awkwardly.
"This is for you."
"Eh? What's this?"
"Uh… it's… not important. Just a gift… to thank you for the cake this morning, hehe."
Indra's mother carefully opened it. Her eyes widened at the glittering necklace inside.
"Al… this… this looks so expensive. I—I hope you're not joking. Why?"
"Think of it as a gift from heaven—thanking you for being so good to an orphan like me."
"Al…" her tone turned heavy, tears forming. "But… this is too luxurious. I'm not used to receiving such things."
"Well, if you don't accept it, I'll throw it away."
"Al!"
She finally accepted it, clutching it tightly, looking at him with a mix of emotion—gratitude, affection, and a touch of guilt.
"Thank you, dear… I will treasure this as… a gift from my own child."
Al nodded gently.
"Then I must be off."
Indra's mother watched him leave with teary eyes.
---
Flashback – Suburban Market & The Lost Child
A blurred memory of Makazhar's suburban market eleven years ago: bustling, simple. The smell of vegetables and spices mixed with vendors' shouts.
Indra's mother—then a young woman—ran a small stall. Occasionally she watched two little boys playing nearby at her stand.
One was a six-year-old boy—his hair messy but his eyes sharp.
The other was two years older, with a cheerful, friendly smile.
"Al, don't run off… Indra will watch over you."
"Yes, Auntie!"
Indra's mother beamed as the boys visited. She often gave them leftover coins.
Time passed. Her business improved, and they moved to a larger shop in the market.
"Our finances are stable now. I want a child," she told her husband one night.
"Let's try…"
But fate intervened. Months of trying ended with heartbreak—a hospital report said:
"Your womb is not viable… We suggest you don't hope too much…" the doctor told her.
They decided then:
"In that case… let's adopt. I have two good candidates from a city orphanage."
"The ones who always played near our stall?" her husband asked.
"If it's them, I agree. But we can only adopt one," she replied.
"Hmmm, okay. Let's adopt the youngest. He seems to need someone to protect him."
"Alright, dear," he agreed.
But when they went to the orphanage…
"I'm sorry, ma'am. The child named Al… disappeared a month ago. We've searched everywhere."
She froze, holding the adoption list in trembling hands.
They adopted Indra—the other boy from the market—despite the disappointment.
Years later, Al returned—now a teenager starting high school in Makazhar City.
Indra and his mother immediately recognized him. They embraced, their reunion filled with deep longing and warmth.
---
Back to the Present
Indra's mother still stared at the necklace in her hand inside the small living room. Then she quietly looked toward the door.
"Al… you really are back, aren't you, dear?"
She held the necklace close to her heart, tears held at bay.
---