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chapter 2 Introduction II
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While Alex and James were caught in their roadside drama, elsewhere on the winding roads of Moirang, Pari, Gato, and Vasco were on their way to Pari's brother's hospital opening ceremony.
The car hummed along smoothly. Vasco sat quietly in the back seat, earbuds in, head resting against the window, eyes half-closed in peaceful boredom.
But peace was short-lived.
Pari shot a sideways glance toward Gato, who was happily munching on the snacks Vasco had bought earlier—without offering so much as a crumb to anyone else.
Typical Gato.
Pari sighed heavily, narrowing his eyes as an imaginary scene popped into his head. In his mind's eye, Gato transformed into a common Gasscarp—the sneaky, thieving fish from those old folklore tales—except this one had sprouted two legs and learned the dark art of human speech. A homosepian grass-carp . The horror.
A laugh burst suddenly from Pari's lips.
"Why... why do I always end up with weird friends...?" Pari muttered aloud, shaking his head, still chuckling to himself.
Hearing this insult disguised as a lament, Gato gasped in a mock offense, holding his bag of snacks to his chest like precious treasure.
"Wow. Coming from you, that's rich!" Gato retorted, stuffing another chip into his mouth. "Whoever said 'birds of a feather flock together' clearly met you first! You've been a first-class weirdo since the day we met. Don't throw stones when you live in a glass house, my friend."
Pari grinned, Slightly leaning back in his seat. "Hah. Speaking of which... which year did we first meet anyway?"
From the back seat came Vasco's sleepy voice, eyes still closed:
"Class 4 or 5... maybe? When Alex, James, and Gato showed up late... on the first day of the term."
"Feels like yesterday..." Gato said softly, suddenly thoughtful. "But it's already been more than a decade. We've known each other longer than some marriages last..."
The car settled into a moment of quiet nostalgia.
Then, like the pages of an old memory book flipping open, Gato's mind wandered back—
Gato's POV: Years Ago...
The second day of the new school term.
A small, car rolled into the school driveway. In the back seat sat two young boys, side by side.
They looked alike but anyone passing by might not know they are twins and have mistaken them for siblings... but anyone who cared to truly look would notice even with the subtle differences.
One had his hair cut short and neat, the other let his hair curl freely. One sat quietly, straight-backed and serious—the other wriggled restlessly, eyes shining with mischief.
Their father, Derendra, was at the wheel—a man in his early thirties, face still young but with tired eyes from the burdens of parenting two whirlwinds.
Glancing at his sons in the rear-view mirror, Derendra sighed.
"At least they're sitting still," he thought.
But peace never lasts long.
The younger boy—Gato—suddenly leaned forward, wriggling out of his seat belt like a little escape artist.
"Gato, sit down!" his father barked, startled.
But Gato ignored him, climbing halfway out of the open window, his small body sticking dangerously outside, wind blowing in his hair.
"Gato!! How many times have I told you not to do that?! Close the window right now!"
Still no response.
The older twin—Puto—turned sharply in his seat, grabbed Gato's shirt, and yanked him back inside with practiced ease.
"Idiot," Puto muttered, as their father locked the rear windows with a stern click.
Finally—silence.
But only for a moment.
"Dad..." Gato piped up thoughtfully, staring at the passing trees. "I don't know if I'm stupid or not... but... why do the trees run backwards when we drive the car?"
Hearing his brother's strange question, Puto suddenly felt a spark of curiosity flicker in his own mind. He turned sharply toward the window, eyes wide, pressing his nose against the glass.
"Vava! It's true!" he exclaimed, voice full of wonder. "The trees... they're really running away! Ayaw!"
Derendra sighed heavily, knowing this would be another storm of questions.
"Are we going to start again? My curious little philosopher..."
But Gato wasn't listening. He pointed.
"Dad... why does the sun always come from the east? Why not from the west for a change?"
"Because—"
"And why does the sun follow our car wherever we go?" Gato interrupted again, wide-eyed, his face pressed against the window glass.
Even Puto leaned out curiously, frowning.
"Vava... it's also true! The sun is following us!" he gasped.
Derendra rubbed his forehead, muttering prayers for patience to whatever ancient spirits guarded tired fathers.
"Gato... you and your army of endless questions... can't you let me answer one before you ask the next—?!"
"Baba... how was I born? Did I come from Mom? Or you?" Gato asked suddenly, with innocent wonder.
Before Derendra could answer, Puto jumped in confidently:
"Dad gave birth to me. Mom gave birth to you."
A long silence.
Derendra gripped the steering wheel tighter, trying not to burst out laughing at the absurd logic of childhood.
"You two are going to drive me to an early grave," he murmured, smiling despite himself.
Derendra stole a side glance at his elder son, Puto, and felt a quiet swell of pride in his chest.
He may still act like a child, Derendra thought fondly, but he's sharp... good at speaking to people, always polite, and clever when it matters. A son who will do well in the world.
But his gaze quickly drifted back to the rear-view mirror... to his younger son. Gato.
And there the pride was mixed with worry.
Unlike Puto, Gato was not normal—at least not by the world's plain measure. While other children played games or chatted about toys, Gato's mind swam in endless curiosity. He lived half his life in daydreams, the other half firing strange and twisting questions that left even adults baffled.
Answer one... and suddenly a hundred more would spring forth.
Sometimes, at night, Derendra would pretend to sleep, just to escape the flood of mysteries pouring from that small mouth. Once—he remembered—he answered Gato's questions until dawn itself peeked into their window, laughing at the sleepless father.
And so Derendra, knowing the true nature of his son, chose not to answer the boy's previous question about the sun and trees. What was the use? All unspoken questions lay like buried seeds—sooner or later, they would sprout again.
As if reading his father's mind, Gato suddenly spoke.
"Dad… why didn't you and Mom give birth to both of us at the exact same time? If you wanted twins so badly, why is Puto twenty-four seconds older than me? Was it the doctor's fault?"
Derendra sighed deeply, shaking his head with a smile.
"Gato... please don't ask such questions in front of others, or I swear, I'll die from shame one day," he muttered, glancing nervously at the mirror.
But Gato was undeterred. Seeing his father's silence, he leaned close to Puto and whispered, "Hey... Puto. If twins are always born to married couples... then does that mean Pari must have been born a bastard child?"
Puto gasped softly, eyes wide. "Ohhh... I learned something big today…" he whispered, nodding with the serious face of a boy who believed he'd just cracked the secret code of life.
With such absurd chatter filling the car, they finally reached the school gates. Derendra, smiling and sighing all at once, dropped his sons off and drove away—never knowing that a small storm was about to brew in the classroom.
In the Classroom...
After entering, Puto and Gato quietly took their seats.
But peace would not last.
Not long after, Alex—an old hand at bullying, even at his young age— strode up to Gato's desk. Without a word, he yanked Gato's bag from under the desk, dumped its contents onto the floor, and snatched Gato's tiffin box with a smirk.
This was Alex's way. He'd been in this school since toddler days. Whenever a new face appeared, he felt the ancient urge to remind them who ruled this small kingdom.
Gato, who had been daydreaming about clouds shaped like goats, snapped back to reality as he heard the soft thud of his bag hitting the floor.
"Hey! That's my tiffin!" Gato shouted, standing up sharply.
Ignoring him completely, Alex swaggered toward Puto's desk and did the same—grabbing Puto's lunch box without hesitation.
"Should we eat these?" Alex asked one of his grinning friends, holding both tiffins high.
Hearing this, Pari—who sat at the front row—turned slightly, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear:
"Did you forget to bring your own tiffin today? Is that why you've stooped to stealing other's…?"
Looking at Parri who was arguing with Alex Gato leaned over to Puto and whispered with the utmost seriousness, "See? This is why kids who are born without marriage become thieves. But we're born properly. We don't steal."
Puto, fired up by this strange but convincing wisdom, stood up boldly, marched to Alex's desk, grabbed his bag, and dragged it to the blackboard. Without a word, he wiped the blackboard vigorously with Alex's bag before dumping it on the Alex foot.
The class gasped.
Alex froze, eyes wide, brain struggling to process the sudden insult. Before he could roar in anger—
DING DING!
The school bell rang, and the teacher swept into the room.
Everyone scrambled to their seats, standing to greet her.
Good morning, class!" the teacher greeted, stepping smartly into the room with a bright smile.
"Good morning, Miss!" the students replied in cheerful unison, rising from their seats.
She gave a small nod, setting her books down on the desk.
"Alright now, everyone—sit down."
"Thank you, Miss," the class murmured as they shuffled back into their chairs.
But Puto stood motionless, unmoving while the rest of the class settled into their seats.
The teacher noticed immediately, her brows gently furrowing.
"Puto? Is something wrong? Why haven't you sat down yet?" she asked, her tone curious but calm.
Puto clutched the edge of his desk, his little face set with quiet determination.
"Miss... Alex took my tiffin. He hasn't given it back."
The class fell into a hush. A few heads turned. Even Gato peeked nervously from the corner of his eye.
The teacher, distracted and only half-hearing him, waved a hand carelessly as she began sorting the books on her desk.
"Then find an empty seat and sit down," she mumbled, clearly misunderstanding the real issue.
But Puto didn't budge.
He stood firm, his small fists clenched at his sides, eyes glowing with pure, unshaken childish righteousness—as if justice itself burned behind them—boring straight into the back of Alex's thick skull.
The room held its breath.
Even Gato, sensing the tension, slowly sank lower in his seat, trying to become invisible.
Gato, sensing disaster, slowly bent down, picked up his bag, and tiptoed toward the back of the room... trying to disappear.
Sensing that Puto still hadn't settled down, the teacher finally frowned and set her books aside.
"Puto? What's the matter now?" she asked, this time more firmly.
Without hesitation, Puto pointed a small but accusing finger straight at Alex.
"Miss... please make that bastard child stand up!" he declared boldly, his voice ringing clear across the silent classroom.
The room froze.
Every head turned. A sharp gasp rippled through the air. Even the dust motes seemed to stop drifting, afraid to move.
Alex's jaw slowly dropped, his eyes wide in shock.
The teacher blinked, stunned.
"W-what... what did you just say, Puto?"
Albert, one of Alex's lackeys, stood up helpfully. "Miss! Puto called Alex a 'bastard'... said his parents aren't married!"
The teacher gasped. "PUTO! Is this true? Who told you to say such a terrible thing?!"
Pluto, still standing firm, pointed—not at Alex this time—but to the side where his brother was supposed to be sitting.
"Miss... Gato said it earlier," he announced without shame.
"He said kids born without marriage steal things... like Alex."
A hush fell over the room so heavy it could crush ants.
Slowly—every single head—turned toward Gato, whose chair was now mysteriously empty.
Except... a pair of trembling fingers gripped the far edge of the back bench.
A tiny voice whispered from behind it:
"Traitor... You sold me out..."
Even the teacher stood frozen, blinking in disbelief, rubbing her temple as if this would wipe away the ridiculousness of the moment.
"GATO. Stand. Up. Now."
A soft groan came from the back bench.
"Miss... I think I'm feeling sick…" Gato mumbled weakly, hoping in vain to escape judgment.
Miss, his real name is Gatotkaca," Pluto added proudly, as if unveiling a grand secret to the entire class.
"PUTO!!" the teacher shout.
" Miss Puto's real name is Pluto—he just dropped the 'L'!"
"GATO!" The teacher closed her eyes for a long moment, rubbing her temples as if trying to massage away the headache forming behind her forehead.
"Enough... all three of you—come along. We're going to the principal's office."
"Eh?! Why me too?!" Alex protested loudly, face scrunched in disbelief. "I didn't even say anything!"
But it was all in vain.
Ignoring his complaints—the teacher briskly herded Gato, Pluto, and a sulking, grumbling Alex out the door like three naughty ducklings being led straight to judgment... or perhaps doom... at the principal's office.
Ten minutes later...
The classroom door creaked open.
Three small heads peeked in—eyes downcast, shoulders drooping, the weight of doom still clinging to them like fog.
"May we come in, Miss?" they chorused miserably.
The teacher—arms crossed, but her smile softening —nodded.
"Alright. Story time is over, class. Let's begin the lesson."
A small riot broke out at once.
"Boooo! Miss, nooo!"
"Please, Miss—just one more part!"
"Let's skip class today! Continue the story!"
Sighing in defeat, the teacher shook her head with a helpless smile.
"Well... since it's only the second day of school... fine. Let's continue our story. But this is the last time. I mean it!"
A cheer erupted from the room.