The classroom was a pressure cooker of whispers and stares.
Obasi stood there, shoulders relaxed, smirk locked in place like a secret weapon. But inside? His heart was doing parkour.
Why are they staring like I just descended from heaven in a chariot of fire?
The teacher, a short woman with sharp glasses and sharper eyes, pointed him to an empty seat by the window. Of course. Classic protagonist spot.
He walked past rows of desks—eyes boring into him, judgment simmering like cheap jollof.
A few students were whispering:
"Is he mixed?" "Look at his chain." "I heard he's homeschooled... probably weird."
He sat down beside a girl with dyed red braids and earbuds in, bobbing her head like the class didn't exist. She didn't even glance at him. Nice, he thought. One person who doesn't care I exist. New favorite.
The class moved on—some boring intro to quadratic equations—and Obasi spaced out immediately. His eyes wandered to the window, then the clock, then the back of a guy's head, until—
SMACK!
A folded paper hit his desk.
He blinked.
Another hit followed it. This time, it landed in his lap. He opened it.
"You the new guy? You got a girlfriend? Circle yes or no."
He looked up. Two guys near the back grinned at him like hyenas.
He snorted, flipped the paper, and wrote:
"Yes. Her name's Freedom. I value her a lot."
Folded it into a perfect paper shuriken and tossed it back like a champ. Direct hit.
The hyena boys hollered.
The teacher snapped her chalk in half.
"Next person who makes noise gets sent to the principal's office. And no—it's not Onyema. It's someone worse."
The class froze.
Obasi leaned back, suddenly more intrigued. Worse than Onyema? Color me interested.
---
Lunch Break.
Obasi wandered the hallways like a ghost in unfamiliar territory. Everyone already had their cliques—vibes were locked in, energy groups already formed: the loud group by the lockers, the weirdos talking about anime powers, the students pretending they didn't care about grades but secretly studied at night.
He headed for the cafeteria.
Big mistake.
The smell of sweat, stew, and overcooked rice hit him like a slap.
He scanned the tables. No empty spots. He stood there awkwardly with his tray of sadness—some rice, mystery meat, and a bottle of lukewarm water.
"New boy," a voice called.
He turned.
It was the girl with red braids from earlier. She sat at a two-person table in the corner, earbuds still in, but now she was waving him over with a fork like a wand.
Obasi didn't think twice. He walked over and sat.
"You eat?" she asked without looking up.
"Usually," he said. "But today's menu is... suspicious."
She snorted. "First mistake—never eat the meat. You're better off licking a car battery."
He smirked. "Noted."
She finally looked at him. Her eyes were golden brown, sharp like she could smell lies.
"I'm Zino," she said. "You?"
"Obasi."
"Obasi what?"
"Obasi Light."
She blinked.
Then laughed.
"What, your middle name's 'Darkness'?"
"No," he grinned. "It's Justice."
Zino choked on her water and laughed harder. "Yo. You sound like a rejected superhero."
He grinned. "I'm not the hero."
She raised a brow, curious.
"But I'll survive."
---
Back in Class – Later
Obasi was still feeling the weird vibes when the teacher dropped the hammer.
"Group assignments," she said, like she enjoyed pain. "Four people per group. Your table determines your team."
Obasi looked left.
Zino raised a brow. "Looks like we're stuck."
Two other students walked over—one was a tall guy with a puffed-out afro and fake Gucci slides, the other a short girl with glasses and an air of I will ruin your GPA if you mess this up.
"Group 5," the teacher announced. "Your presentation is due next week. Topic: Unseen Heroes in History."
Obasi stared blankly.
Unseen? Hero? God, the irony.
Zino leaned toward him and whispered, "You okay?"
He gave her a tired look.
"Yeah… Just not used to being seen."
---
Later That Day – After School
Obasi stood at the front gate, alone. His teacher wasn't there. Onyema? Still ghosting him.
Then came the rumble of a bike engine.
VROOOM.
She pulled up, helmet off, hair flying. His lesson teacher-turned-guardian.
"Hop on," she said with a smirk.
He did, and they zoomed off into the fading sun.
But even as the wind hit his face, even as he clutched her sides for balance, even as the city blurred around him…
A single thought echoed:
What if I don't fit in here?
He didn't know yet that this school… this chapter of his life… was about to unravel everything he thought he knew.
The ride home was mostly silent. The bike weaved through traffic like it had a mind of its own, and Obasi just held on—tight enough to stay steady, loose enough to pretend he wasn't trying to memorize the feeling of the wind on his face.
They reached the gate to the compound, a two-story duplex tucked behind tall hedges and broken streetlights.
As she parked, Obasi hopped off and turned to her, hesitant.
"You wanna come in? Water? Tea? Something?"
She looked up at him from under the helmet visor, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"I appreciate it," she said, voice low and calm. "But I can't. Got somewhere to be."
She removed the helmet and shook out her braids. For a moment, her body was closer than usual—shoulder grazing his arm, breath warm against his neck—but she didn't flinch. Didn't move. Didn't act like it meant anything.
He noticed. But didn't say a word.
Instead, he shrugged and walked to the door.
"How was school?" she asked casually, strapping her helmet back on.
Obasi snorted.
"A boring hellhole with seats."
She chuckled—low and smooth. "That bad, huh?"
He fished the house keys from his pocket, twisted the lock, and swung the door open.
"It's like the devil went on vacation and left the place in charge."
She smiled behind the helmet. "You'll get used to it."
Obasi leaned against the doorframe. "I doubt it."
She revved the engine once, ready to leave, but paused.
"Oh—and Obasi?"
"Yeah?"
She gave him a look, one of those mysterious ones she always pulled when she was about to drop a bomb.
"I've got a special class for you tomorrow."
He squinted, skeptical. "Special how?"
"It's about runes."
That made him pause.
Everything shifted.
His posture straightened. His eyes lit up with something—curiosity, excitement… maybe even longing.
"Wait, for real?"
She nodded. "It's time."
Obasi instinctively glanced down at the back of his hand, still bare. Still blank. At school today, people stared—some with confusion, others with suspicion. Everyone else had visible runes by now. Their first sign of awakening. A mark of potential.
But him? Nothing.
Just pale skin and questions.
"Maybe we'll find out why yours is still... hidden," she added, her tone laced with something deeper than teasing.
He didn't reply.
But the way his lips twitched upward?
That said everything.
She gunned the engine again.
"Rest well, Light."
Then, she peeled off into the dusk, a blur of shadows and dust.
Obasi stood there for a while, staring at his hand.
And for the first time in a long while, he didn't feel empty.
He felt…
Ready.