It was almost evening, students who had stayed behind for club activities took their leave, group by group.
Max was still there— behind the lockers.
The last students made their way out, their footsteps now distant.
Max slowly got up and decided to go home.
As soon as he stepped out, he found Mr. Richter in the school yard.
He was seated on the bench, looking keenly at a sheet of paper.
He was murmuring to himself.
"…en, huh? …"
Max couldn't hear him clearly, so he decided to sneak closer.
He managed to get behind the transformer just in front of the bench.
"… id you thin…"
Max still couldn't hear him, so he decided to peek— he found Mr. Richter right in front of him, glaring at him from above.
"Well Max, what time do you think it is? Should you be here… look at the lamps, they are already well-lit."
Mr. Richter said as he ran a hand through his hair a second longer than necessary then, adjusted his specs— carefully, as if buying himself a moment.
"Sorry… I'll head home now.", Max said as he pulled the straps of his bag and walked slowly.
"Wait a second Max— here, take this with you. The project was more or less to help see your personal limitations. It won't affect your grade at all."
Mr. Richter said as he extended the sheet of paper towards Max.
Max took a look— it was the group project grading.
"Sir, I don't wanna take this home."
Max said, looking down at the ground, not being able to lift his head.
"You needn't show it to anyone", Mr. Richter said quickly, "It was a personal test as I just said."
Mr. Richter said, Max noticed his hand trembling for a bit, the ends of the sheet curving.
Max hesitantly took the sheet, folded it once and walked off with it.
Mr. Richter stood there as he saw Max walk in the distance.
He took out his specs, closed his eyes and squeezed them lightly with his fingers and put them back on.
Max walked on the road, all alone. Not even a rat in sight, the evening breeze sent shivers down his spine.
His eyes kept returning to the sheet, no matter how many times he looked away.
He put the sheet in his bag to avoid thinking about it too much.
The street was still dark. Max would hear occasional rustles as the streetlamps came to life one by one.
Max finally reached his home. A two-storey bungalow on a plot twice as big compared to regular houses.
The gates were bigger, sturdier and moderately guarded.
As Max turned toward the street leading to the gate a hand grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him back.
Max's heart jumped a beat; he flailed and turned back. It was Mr. Richter.
"Mr. Richter? …", Max thought to himself, "Why's he here? Why'd he pull me back?"
Cold sweat ran down Max's back; he closed his eyes.
"Quick, hand the sheet to me", Mr. Richter whispered under his heavy breath as his eyes darted around nervously.
Max's hand instinctively reached inside his bag.
As he was about to hand the sheet to Mr. Richter, a guard grabbed Mr. Richter's shoulder and threw him back against the wall.
"What'd you think you're doing here? Restraining the Young Master like that? And what's with that sheet?"
The guard adjusted his hat and whistled to gather the guards of the house.
He snatched the sheet from Mr. Richter's hand.
"Oh… so it's like that, well I'll take it inside the house. Guards take care of the pest in the meanwhile."
The guard took his leave while the other guards pummeled and kicked Mr. Richter.
Max sat opposite to the scene before his eyes and covered his head with his bag.
All of a sudden, the sounds of punches and kicks stopped.
As if someone muted the scene itself.
Max looked up, there stood a young man with long black hair tied in bun.
He limped towards Max and extended his hand.
"Can you stand? Boy?"
The voice struck a gentle note inside Max's ear; for some reason, he felt the fear rush out of his body.
Max stood there in awe when he noticed the unconscious guards lying next to him.
He took a step back.
"What happened? Who in the hell is this man?"
Max thought, still bearing a confused and blank look on his face.
"Rei…", Mr. Richter coughed, "Why're you here?"
"I just happen to pass by this block when I go out for a walk in the evening."
Rei replied with a soft smile on his face.
"I think that'll teach you a lesson, the next time I find you loitering around this house, you'll suffer more than a few swells on your face."
The guard came out, thinking that the guards subdued Richter. When he saw the guards lying around in the middle of the road he was overcome with rage.
"What the hell are you all doing?", he then switched to Rei, "You bast—"
Rei quickly closed the distance between him and the guard and covered his mouth.
He stepped closer and whispered in his ear.
"Keep that gutter shut, the kid will hear you…"
Rei locked one of his arms and incapacitated him.
"Mr. Richter, it's about time you left for home, Mrs. Richter would be worried."
"I'll remember this." The guard said.
"Sure, you will." Rei replied in return and left supporting Mr. Richter with his shoulders.
Max watched the two of them limp away, he stood there until they left his sight.
He then remembered— the sheet… was inside the house.
He quickly headed inside.
The maid of the house stood by the entrance, bowing towards Max.
"Welcome back… Max."
The maid around her late teens, greeted him in a soft, polite manner.
Max handed her his bag as he ran towards his room, looking for a shelter to escape to.
He opened the door to his room hastily and locked it from the inside— breathing heavily, collapsing to the floor.
The wheelchair creaked and so did Max's soul.
"Hey… why did you lock the door? I'm not going anywhere, face me and sit where you are."
A cold voice creeped from behind.
It was Max's elder brother Damian, seated on the chair, straight as a pole.
"How was school today? How'd you do?"
He asked, his eyes narrowing.
"Just like the usual…" Max muttered in a low voice, his eyes failing to either rise or meet that of his brother's.
"Huh? What was that?", Damian got up, "Just like usual… huh?"
He slapped Max twice and asked again, "How'd you do?"
His tone just got colder and Max's breath got heavier.
Tears emerged in Max's eyes.
"So, you refuse to admit it even now? Then what's this?"
Damian pulled out the sheet from inside the drawer.
"What's the meaning of this? Well?"
Max only sat there, tears rolling down his cheeks.
The door opened, it was the maid.
"Sir and Madam have returned, please join them for dinner."
She saw Max sniveling, down on his feet and left.
"Well, you heard her. Wash your face and come down, we'll talk long and nice at the table."
Damian left, leaving the sheet and Max behind.
Max got up shortly after, washed and wiped his face.
He looked into the mirror, his eyes resembling someone who knows that they're going to die tomorrow.
He headed down to the dinner hall.
The three— Max's brother, father and mother were already seated at the table.
Max took his seat and prepared himself for the punishments to be bestowed upon him.
The four of them ate in silence, the hall felt timeless, growing colder by each moment.
The food tasted like nothing, it felt dry making it hard for the food to go down.
Finally, the father put down the knife and fork, so did the others.
"Maxwell Iden Kraus…", he spoke," You are not to leave your room until three days later."
He took the glass of wine and took a sip.
"Focus on improving and correcting yourself in the time."
He wiped his moustache and lips and continued.
"How about finishing the course for a subject of your choice? If you can't do it in three days, you can stay locked for another week."
He then scraped the chair back on the floor, got up and left the table.
"Well, hang in there… lil' bro."
Damian said quietly and followed after his father.
The mother still seated at the table, drank from the glass and looked at Max.
Her eyes cold and sharp,
"Make sure not to sully the Iden name again."
She said as she too got up and left the table.
Max sat there, left all alone.
Tears began to flow down his cheeks again.
The maid came to the table and started clearing the utensils away.
"Max, get up and wash your hands and face."
She handed him a tissue and quietly continued her work.
Max dried his tears and got up.
He washed his hands and withdrew to his room.
He collapsed onto the bed, covered his face with a pillow and began his sorrowful cry.
The maid stayed on guard just outside the room so that Max wouldn't leave his room under orders from the "Master".
The maid remained seated outside the door.
The lock did not turn.
Inside, Max lay still, his face buried, his cries fading into the pillow.
The night felt longer than it should've, the Sun still deep down the horizon.
Nowhere to be seen— like Max.