Chapter 9: Don Reil
The unruly children scurried away, their voices echoing with frivolous banter. Amidst the fading commotion, a realization struck me, prompting a profound reassessment of my recent actions.
Regret surged within as I muttered, "I screwed up."
The ramifications of succumbing to taunts and engaging in a skirmish haunted my thoughts. Guilt enveloped me; I had inadvertently broken the kid's nose. The specter of a potential retaliation loomed large—what if he returned, accompanied by reinforcements?
Anxiety gnawed at my conscience, urging me to consider the consequences of my impulsive reactions. As the gravity of the situation sank in, I grappled with the prospect of facing repercussions. Could this escalate further? Would there be consequences beyond the immediate aftermath?
Attempting to quell the rising panic, I forced myself to take deep breaths. The need for introspection became apparent. Recounting the events, I acknowledged that I had been provoked, and my response had been an act of self-defense. Rationalizing the situation, I found solace in the notion that I hadn't acted without cause. The beat hit me first.
Yet, the lingering unease persisted, leaving me to ponder the potential aftermath and the wisdom of my decisions.
True, I did break the kid's nose, but he was the one who started the fight.
Strangely enough, the earlier feeling of serenity and calmness was nowhere to be found. The feeling like I was in control of the situation vanished along with the brats.
I...in any case, I don't think they got my name so I should be safe. There were no witnesses, and I doubt they know where I live.
Convincing myself with that, I turned around to pick up the books I had dropped when I noticed the green eyed kid who was on the floor.
A sudden recollection flooded my mind, unraveling the series of events and revealing the course of my actions. I had intervened in an attempt to quell a confrontation between two kids, believing it to be a responsible act. However, my intervention inadvertently escalated the situation, resulting in a more significant and chaotic scene than the one I sought to diffuse.
Our eyes met briefly; the bruised kid and I shared a tense moment. Closing the distance, I inquired, "Are you okay?" His wary gaze met mine as he instinctively shuffled backward.
His eyes betrayed a mixture of fear and uncertainty, fixating on me as if encountering an unfamiliar entity. Undeterred, I took another step forward, attempting to bridge the gap. With an outstretched hand, I offered assistance, only to have it briskly swatted away.
"I didn't need your help!" he retorted with a small growl, averting his gaze and pouting prematurely, leaving an air of tension lingering between us.
My left eye twitched a bit; kinda annoyed by the ungrateful response.
'I literally put myself on the line for this ungrateful brat,' I thought in exasperation, withdrawing my hand and straightening up. With a tone devoid of emotion, I uttered, "Sorry for doing unnecessary things" before pivoting on my heel. Frustration evident.
'Screw all this. I'm going home.'
"Wait!" The kid called out after me. Reluctantly, I halted, casting an uninterested gaze over my right shoulder.
"What?" I responded flatly, a touch of sarcasm tainting my words. With an eye roll that seemed to encompass all possible directions, I continued, "You need me to help you up?"
The boy, wiping trickling blood from his face, struggled to lift himself unsteadily. Defiantly, he retorted, "I didn't need your help then, and I don't need it now either." Despite his words, he managed to rise, only to quickly stumble.
"It didn't look like it to me, though," I remarked, swiftly catching him before he could return to the ground. Locking eyes with him, I offered a gentle smile, creating a brief, unexpected moment of connection.
The boy's face flushed red, and he hastily averted his gaze, a mixture of embarrassment and defiance evident in his reaction.
"I... I almost had him," the boy muttered, his words slightly stuttered and under his breath.
'Yeah, you got him right where you wanted alright-- right untop of punding the living daylight away from you' The urge to deliver a cutting retort danced at the tip of my tongue, emphasizing the irony of his claim.
However, exercising restraint, I suppressed the biting remark, and with a composed demeanor, I responded,
"I…I see."
Confirming he was good enough to walk on his own, I turned around once again to leave. I retrieved my books and began to head down the part I came.
One reason why I never interfered in fights; you never get anything worth it out if it. And apparently, not even appreciation.
One step, two steps, I headed back home.
"H...hey, wait! Wait up!" The boy called out to me once more.
I heaved a tired sigh and turned around. Wandering what the boy could want now.
"Hey, I said wait up." Running after, the boy said.
I observed the boy in silence, my expression neutral. His left eye bore the evidence of a bruise, swollen and discolored. The rest of his face told a story of a fierce altercation, adorned with additional bruises. His battered lips were split, and blood stained them.
This was the same kid who adamantly claimed not to need my help and asserted control over the situation. "What is it?" I inquired, my tone remaining steady, awaiting an explanation for this unexpected continuation of our encounter.
The boy shifted uncomfortably, adjusting his stance before straightening with a self-conscious air. With an intentional Ahem, he cleared his throat in what appeared to be a mix of pride and boastfulness.
"You helped me out back there, even though I hadn't needed it," he admitted, a hint of humility creeping into his words. "But it still remains a fact that you put yourself between me and the bastard, so I, at least, can say thank you. So... thank you... though I hadn't needed a hand," he concluded, offering a begrudging but sincere expression of gratitude.
"..."
'That...was an apology, right?'
My gaze lowered to the boy's outstretched hand, bearing the visible marks of the recent skirmish—sullied with dirt and streaked with dried blood. Bruised and scratched, it told a silent tale of resilience and defiance. This little hand, soiled yet determined, had bravely stood up against a bully three times his size, revealing no trace of fear or despair.
Despite the multitude of thoughts ready to spill from my mind, I restrained them and bit down on my tongue. "Sure... no problem," I replied with measured calmness. Extending my hand, I lightly shook the boy's, bridging a tentative connection that transcended the recent confrontation.
"Well then..." I began to retract my arm, preparing to turn around and continue on my way.
"U..uhm...how...how did you do it..." the boy mumbled something I couldn't quite catch.
"Sorry, I didn't get that. Could you repeat it?" I turned around once again, my curiosity piqued.
The boy's face flushed slightly red from embarrassment. He raised his head, locking eyes with me. His gaze held a burning intensity that made me instinctively wince back just slightly.
"Th-the way you dealt with those bullies was really cool!" he expressed with respect and admiration, his green eyes shining brightly. The unexpected compliment lingered in the air, creating a moment of connection between us.
The light in the boy's eyes mirrored the admiration a kid his age would direct towards their favorite superhero on TV. "A... actually, I'd like to know that as well," he admitted, his curiosity evident.
I began to feel slightly awkward and uncomfortable under the intensity of his admiration. His eyes were too bright, a stark contrast to the troubled encounter just moments ago. This couldn't be the same kid.
His innocence now apparent, I formed a sheepish smile and said, awkwardly scratching the side of my face, "W... was it really though?"
"Are you kidding?! It was crazy?!" he exclaimed, leaning in and nodding firmly. Despite the bruises, his eyes shone brightly, and his lips stretched into a wide smile, his expression boiling with genuine admiration.
Closing the little distance between us, the boy shoved his face into mine. "So, how did you do it? Do you get some special training or something?" he persisted, the light in his eyes showing no signs of fading.
' No seriously, what is going on? The kid is suddenly at face value with me. What's with him? Hasn't he ever heard of personal space before?'
I began to panick slightly. I had never been subjected to such attention before. I was slightly uncomfortable. The pressure from the boy drained me.
The boy momentarily stops and observes my expression. Probably judging my state, he backed off and apologized.
"O-oh! sorry about that," He said.
He shifted in his feet and straightened his posture. Fixed his composure and once again cleared his throat. Stretching out his hand, he offered me a handshake.
"I'm Don, Don Reil...pleased to meet u. And you are?" He said politely, in a manner I couldn't imagine it was him.
He was suddenly so formal, it made me cringe a little.
I reached out for his hand and received it with an awkward cough
"Reo Bellar. Same here."
***
Authors' Note:
Guys the power stone response haven't been all that good really. if you like and enjoy this novel so far, vote and add to collections.
And on to the matter of release schedule. There will be a chapter of Certain Magical Reincarnation everyday but weekends, which means 5 chapters per week. This can easily change soon in the future depending on the circumstances. And as for mass releases, well, we'll get to that.