Chapter 83: A CHAOTIC MORNING

The streetlights in the park were still on when Kai stepped out of the warehouse—their glow yellowish, falling on asphalt wet with dew. His body felt heavy, not just from the small wounds he’d gotten in the arena, but from the exhaustion that had piled up over several days. He glanced at the clock hanging on the park lamp post. The hands showed one-thirty in the morning. The night was late, and he hadn’t slept since yesterday.

He sat on an empty park bench, leaning his back against the cold metal, and stared at the sky. Haaah. Maybe he could defeat twenty people in one night. Maybe he could stand upright even though his knee was unsteady and his arm was bleeding. But he was still an ordinary human, and ordinary humans needed sleep. His mind started drifting to the next step—he had already entered the Ten Gates, at least through the lowest door. Tomorrow night he would start working as a door guard. He had to know who came, who left, who spoke with whom. He had to hear without being seen, see without being noticed. He had to become a shadow standing in the corner of the room, someone not considered, someone not remembered.

But there was one thing he forgot. His eyes fell to the lake in the middle of the park—its water dark, reflecting the moonlight that fell on its surface—and suddenly he remembered. Tomorrow he had to go to school. He was still a teacher. He still had students waiting for him. He stood from that bench, as fast as he could with his tired body, and walked home.

Morning came too quickly. Kai opened his eyes with a face still crumpled—dark circles under his eyes, messy hair, and his whole body feeling like it had been beaten. He blinked several times, trying to gather awareness, then turned to the clock on the wall. The hands showed six-forty in the morning. Kai flinched. He jumped from the sofa, almost tripping on his own blanket, and ran to the bathroom. He washed his face with cold water, brushed his teeth in less than a minute, then hurried to the wardrobe. He grabbed a shirt, pants, a tie, and a jacket, and he put them all on with quick movements—too quick. He slipped his arms into the jacket sleeves, buttoned it halfway, then tied his tie without looking in the mirror. He grabbed shoes from the rack—two shoes, but he didn’t notice the colors—and he sat on the edge of the sofa to put them on. He put his right foot into the right shoe, his left foot into the left shoe, then stood and ran to the door without checking anything else.

He left his apartment with breath still heavy, descended the stairs with quick steps, and started running along the sidewalk. He passed the bakery starting to open, passed the small park with flowers just blooming, passed several people taking their morning walk. But something was strange. Every person he passed always stared at him—some furrowed their brows, some smiled faintly, some chuckled softly while covering their mouths. Kai tried to ignore it all. He was already late. He didn’t have time to think about what others thought.

He arrived at the school gate with panting breath. Leina was already standing there—as usual—with a book in her hand and a smile ready to give to anyone who passed. When she saw Kai, the smile remained, but her eyebrows rose slightly. "Good morning, Mr. Kai," Leina greeted. "You’re late today. Was there a problem on the way?"

"Morning, Ms. Leina," Kai replied while still running. "Sorry, I have to hurry!"

He passed Leina without stopping—without realizing that Leina was staring at him with a strange expression, like she wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start. Kai had already entered the school building, walking down the corridor with quick steps, passing several students who turned and whispered. Some covered their mouths with their hands. Some nudged their friends and pointed at him. Kai still ignored it. He was already late. He didn’t have time to think about anything except reaching his class.

He arrived in front of the Class IX-9 door with panting breath. He pushed the door open, entered while bowing—trying to show that he knew he was late—and walked to the teacher’s desk. "Good morning, everyone," he said. "Sorry I’m late. There was—"

He stopped. The class was silent. His nine students stared at him with the same expression. Their eyes were wide. Their lips were trembling. And then—Mira was the first who couldn’t hold back—she laughed. The laugh came out like an explosion she had held back too long, and once Mira started, the others followed. Rin laughed while hitting the desk. Luna covered her mouth with her hand but couldn’t hide her smile. Nora looked to the side, her shoulders shaking. Iris laughed while crossing her arms. Eve pushed her glasses up, but her smile couldn’t be hidden. Aria bit her lip—trying not to laugh—but finally failed. And Fay—Fay smiled widely, though she didn’t laugh.

Kai stood at the front of the class, with breath still heavy, and stared at them one by one. "What’s wrong?" he asked. "Is something funny?"

Mira pointed at him, still laughing. "Sir... Mr. Kai... your shoes..."

Kai looked down. His right shoe was black—the shoe he usually wore to school. His left shoe was brown—the shoe he wore for work at the arena last night. He stared at his shoes for a few seconds, then he lifted his head and stared at his tie. The tie was tied in a strange way, with a knot too big and an end too short. He felt his collar—the button was misbuttoned. He looked at his jacket sleeve—one sleeve rolled up, one not.

All this time—the entire journey from his apartment to school—every person he passed had seen him with that strange appearance. And he hadn’t noticed.

Ella—who had stopped laughing, but was still smiling—stepped forward. "Mr. Kai," she said in a calm voice, though there was a hint of amusement in it. "You were in a real hurry this morning, weren’t you?"

Kai let out a breath. Haaah. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself. Then he opened his eyes, looked at his students still holding back laughter, and said in a flat voice—the voice he usually used when he wanted to end something. "Alright. You’ve laughed enough. I’m stepping out for a moment."

He turned and walked out of the class, leaving his still-smiling students behind. He walked down the corridor with quick steps, passing several students who turned toward him, and turned toward the infirmary. He pushed the door—a little too hard—and entered.

Reina was sitting at her desk, typing something on the computer with one hand and holding a teacup in the other. When the door opened, she didn’t lift her head. "What is it?" she asked, her voice calm, as usual.

"I’m stepping in here for a moment," Kai said. "I want to change clothes."

Reina raised her hand slightly—a gesture that meant go ahead—and returned to typing. Kai walked to the cabinet in the corner of the room, opened it, and took out the spare clothes he kept there—shirt, pants, tie, and shoes. He started removing his jacket, and when he unbuttoned his shirt, Reina lifted her cup to her mouth and sipped her tea.

Then she saw Kai.

The tea sprayed out of her mouth—pffft—wetting the desk and keyboard in front of her. Reina coughed, covered her mouth with her hand, and stared at Kai with wide eyes. She tried to speak, but her laugh—the laugh she had been holding back—came out before she could say anything. She laughed until tears came out, until she had to put her cup on the desk so it wouldn’t fall.

Kai—still standing there with his shirt half-open, mismatched shoes, and wrongly tied tie—stared at her with a face that had gone pale red. He didn’t say anything. He just turned around, continued removing his clothes, and put on the spare clothes he had brought—this time with more careful movements.

After finishing, he tidied his dirty clothes and folded them. He walked to the door, wanting to leave that room quickly, but before he could reach the door handle, Reina called out to him.

"Kai."

Kai stopped. He turned. Reina had stopped laughing, but her smile was still there—a smile softer than usual. She patted the desk beside her. "Come here."

Kai approached—slowly, with slightly hesitant steps. Reina reached for his hand—not roughly, but with quick, practiced movements—and turned his palm over. There, on skin that was usually clean, were many scrapes—thin scratches starting to dry, small bruises that had turned bluish, and several older marks that had hardened. Reina stared at them for a long time, without saying anything. Then she released Kai’s hand, opened her desk drawer, and took out a first aid kit.

She cleaned those wounds—slowly, carefully, with cotton soaked in antiseptic. Kai didn’t say anything. He just sat there, letting Reina treat his hand, and felt something strange in his chest—something like a warmth he hadn’t asked for.

After finishing, Reina closed the first aid kit and put it back in the drawer. She didn’t ask. She didn’t ask where those wounds came from, didn’t ask what Kai had done last night, didn’t ask why he had come with messed-up clothes. She just waved her hand—a gesture that meant go—and returned to her computer.