“Why are you following me? Don’t you have a class to attend?” Victor inquired, his voice tinged with curiosity as he glanced over his shoulder at Ashara, who was trailing behind him with an inquisitive look.
“Well, don’t you have a class to attend too?” she responded, her tone laced with a mixture of curiosity and playful defiance.
Ashara had found her own class rather dull and boring so she decided to follow Victor who had a serious expression.
Victor chose not to answer. He continued walking, his steps measured and deliberate which made her really curious.
As they approached the senior classroom, Victor paused briefly to peer inside.
He observed that the room was absent of a professor, with students casually engaging in various activities—some were chatting, others working on assignments, and a few were simply idling.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Victor strode into the classroom. At first, the students didn’t notice his presence, too absorbed in their own tasks, but then,
“Ahem, Hello!”
The students’ attention snapped to him, the unexpected authority in his voice commanding their focus. They saw Victor standing at the front, a figure of composed confidence, with Ashara just behind him, her eyes wide with curiosity as she took in the scene.
“Who are you?” a student finally asked, breaking the silence with a note of confusion and challenge in his voice.
Instead of providing a direct answer, Victor scanned the room, his eyes locking on his target—a particular student who was still seated among the others. Victor allowed himself a small, inward smile before speaking, “My name is Victor, a first-year student, Seniors.”
A ripple of recognition spread through the room, the students exchanging glances of surprise and interest.
One of them exclaimed, “I know him! He’s the one who made the ‘chosen ones’ eat dirt!”
“Oh! Is it really him?” another chimed in, excitement lacing their voice.
“Thank goodness, he’s really cold and… hot~” a female student murmured, her voice carrying a note of admiration.
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Having captured their attention, Victor nodded, a small but enigmatic smile playing on his lips. “I wonder if the seniors would indulge me by listening to a small story from their junior….”
Though most students were puzzled by the situation and unsure of Victor’s intentions, a few nodded in agreement, their curiosity piqued by the prospect of something unusual breaking the monotony of their day.
“Good,” Victor’s smile widened slightly, the expression softening his features and adding an almost charming allure.
The women in the room, in particular, seemed captivated by his presence… Pouring their affection to him!
He began his tale, his voice steady and clear, each word carefully chosen:
“Once upon a time, there bloomed a flower of unparalleled beauty. Her petals were delicate and vibrant, their colours so vivid they seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. Anyone who laid eyes on her would pause, mesmerized, and whisper in awe, ‘Beautiful…’ Her petals would dance gracefully in the breeze, a living testament to the admiration she received.
She was like a joyous child, full of life and innocence, basking in the warmth of the world’s praise. The bees, drawn to her allure, danced around her, their buzzing a gentle hum of appreciation….”
Victor’s gaze moved over the room, his expression softening as he spoke. There was a subtle shift in his tone, a hint of something deeper, almost wistful.
Behind him, Ashara furrowed her brow, trying to grasp the meaning behind Victor’s words.
Victor continued, his voice taking on a more sombre note,
“But one day… a greedy human, consumed by desire, wanted to claim the flower for himself.
He looked around furtively, ensuring no one was watching, before reaching out with a rough, careless hand to pluck her.
The flower, sensing danger, tried desperately to sway away from his grasp… her petals trembling in fear. Despite her efforts, the human managed to tear away one of her petals. She cried out in pain,
“Please, stop!”
But her pleas fell on deaf ears; the human could not understand her sorrow”
As Victor narrated, the classroom grew quiet, the weight of his words hanging in the air. The students were transfixed, caught up in the vivid imagery of the story.
“Just then, a bee arrived…..” Victor continued, “….and, seeing the flower’s plight stung the human’s hand in defence of the flower. The human yelped in pain and fled, leaving the flower behind”
‘Sigh…’ A collective sigh of relief seemed to sweep through the room as Victor described the bee’s intervention.
“However…. Though the human didn’t achieve what he wanted, Still…. the damage was done…
She was scared..
She was lost…
She felt disgusted….
Most of all, she felt a profound sense of betrayal of ‘humans’ and… lost a part of herself!!!
No matter how much water and care she received, the flower could no longer shine as she once did.
It wasn’t just the lost shine…. it was more like that she no longer wanted to shine.
She feared that if she allowed herself to bloom brightly once more, she might attract more harm. She didn’t want to risk it…. didn’t want to be hurt again.
Even though the bee promised to protect her from any future harm….. the flower could no longer trust anyone.
She stopped her joyful dance in the air, her spirit crushed by the weight of her fear and distrust!!!
The bee, heartbroken and helpless, could only watch as the once vibrant and joyous flower withered away, consumed by sadness and fear.
Other humans who passed by no longer paused to admire her beauty; they did not even glance at the flower now wilting in sorrow, oblivious to the story of her suffering and loss.
In the end, the flower’s light went out completely, her once dazzling presence extinguished… forever….!!!”
“….” The entire class turned dead silent.
“Meanwhile,” Victor continued, his voice barely above a whisper, “the human, oblivious to the pain he had caused, moved on to pluck another flower, repeating the cycle without a second thought.”
With those final words, Victor gave a slight nod, signalling the end of his story, and turned to leave the classroom.
Ashara caught up in the intensity of the moment, hesitated for a moment before following him, casting a last look at the silent, contemplative faces of the students left behind.
The students were left in a profound silence, each lost in their own thoughts, grappling with the implications of the story.
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It was as if something had pierced their hearts, leaving an indelible mark that would linger long after Victor had gone…
As they sat in stunned silence, a small, barely audible sound broke the stillness…
‘Drip, Drip’
A tear fell from the face of one of the girls, glistening in the dim light of the room.
Meanwhile, Victor had found a quiet spot on a bench, a little distance away from the senior classroom. He sat there, seemingly lost in thought, his gaze distant.
Ashara, unable to contain her curiosity any longer, approached him, “Why did you do that?” she asked, staring at Victor, trying to comprehend the meaning behind his actions and the story he had told in the senior class.
Victor remained silent, his expression inscrutable. This silence only fueled Ashara’s frustration and curiosity, making her pout in annoyance, she tried to touch the snowflake who was sleeping on his shoulder but she hissed which scared a hell out of her.
As they sat there, the moments stretched on.
Then, Victor’s lips curled into a subtle smile as he noticed a girl slowly walking towards him. Her steps were hesitant, her body language conveying fear.
“H-hmm….” The girl came to a stop in front of Victor, her legs wobbling slightly, her lips trembling as she tried to find the courage to speak.
Ashara frowned, puzzled by the girl’s behaviour. She was about to speak up when Victor glanced at her, a single, calm look that conveyed so much without words. Ashara understood immediately and fell silent.
After what felt like an eternity, the girl finally managed to speak, her voice shaking with emotion. “W-Why… did the flower… die?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, yet it carried the weight of a deeply personal question.
Victor, still gazing up at the sky, replied softly, his voice tinged with a quiet sadness, “Because she was scared, lost her trust, and… didn’t want to live anymore.”
The girl’s eyes welled up with tears. She nodded repeatedly, trying to process his words, and then turned as if to leave. But something in Victor’s tone stopped her in her tracks.
“If only she had accepted the bee’s help,” Victor continued, his voice gentle yet firm, “she might have shined brighter than before… much brighter than ever.” His words hung in the air, resonating deeply within the girl.
The girl’s lips trembled even more. Without turning to face him, she asked, “W-What if… what if… that human comes again? W-What could a bee alone do against a human?”
Victor smiled gently, a warm, reassuring expression. “The bee is not alone,” he said, standing up slowly. The girl flinched slightly at his movement, stepping back instinctively.
“Bees are never alone, and….. neither are flowers,” Victor continued, extending his hand towards her, “That human would never come again… all the bees need is for the flower to accept their help.”
The girl stared at Victor, then at his outstretched hand. Her eyes filled with tears as she gulped, her throat dry and constricted. She hesitated, torn between her fear and the strange, comforting presence of Victor, who seemed to understand her pain more than anyone else had.
However, overwhelmed by her emotions, she abruptly stepped back.
“I-I am sorry!!” she exclaimed, her voice choked with tears, before turning and running away.