Either you or them

It was 9:30 PM. I headed to one of the late-night convenience stores to buy some coffee and cakes; I didn’t have enough supplies for tomorrow morning.

My name is Kirian Kazu, an 18 years old teenager. I’m still in middle school; apparently, this is my final year of academic study. I loathe this animalistic education system.

I’m an orphan, living with my maternal grandparents in the country of Kapri, specifically in the city of Neoguso.

Kapri is an economically and militarily advanced nation, boasting leading cities ranked among the best in the world.

Yet, despite its vastness and power, it’s notorious for being a land of corruption, exploitation, cruelty, and intellectual distortion against smaller, weaker nations like Basania, my mother’s home.

I’m Kaprian of Basanian descent. My mother died three months after I was born. My grandfather claimed she died from complications after childbirth.

However, I found a folded paper from her diary hidden in a box of her old clothes; in it, she apologized for being a weak woman who chose to leave rather than raise me. She was a coward, unable to face the truth that I wasn’t the son of her Basanian husband.

As for my biological father, he was a Kaprian soldier. My grandfather told me he was killed after raping my mother in front of her husband’s corpse.

This happened during a war Kapri waged against both Basania and its neighbor, Guri, based on lies and petty excuses, leaving behind nothing but chaos and pain.

I’ve never been accepted by my family or anyone else, except for my grandfather. The rest of my surviving relatives despise me because I carry “enemy blood.”

I don’t deny their reasons for hating my Kaprian side, nor do I forget how they encouraged my mother to abort me. But she refused out of her sheer kindness and love for her husband, hoping I might be his son, not that of the damn soldier.

Even after I was born, they kept blaming her, shunning and insulting her until she hated herself and chose the end they all wanted except me. What a shame.

Thinking this way makes me feel two conflicting things: worthlessness and an intense self-love.

I love myself because my mother endured everyone’s cruelty just to bring me into this world. And I hate myself because I’ve been programmed since childhood to believe I’m a margin drawn by mistake.

I took what I needed and stood in line. I watched the cashier James, as he scanned items for the person in front of me.

James looked exhausted. You could see the slight puffiness under his eyes, the faint tremor in his fingers, and his sluggish movements.

Ever since I’ve known him, he’s worn that same green hat. Is he hiding a bald spot, or is he just one of those gloomy, awkward types who wear their misery on their sleeves?

Wide jeans and a tattered old yellow sweater. Man, James looks like a wreck. He reeks of boredom and a dark aura of acute emotional stagnation. Even though I’m a failure myself, he utterly disgusts me.

“Your total is fifty dollars,” James said, while I stood staring at him blankly.

“Kid… what are you staring at?” he added, his voice rising with an irritation that his shriveled face couldn’t hide.

Startled, I blinked a few times. “Oh, sorry… I was just thinking.”

James replied, his eyes narrowing further, “Think somewhere else. There’s a line behind you.”

I looked back. Only two people; an old man wearing a mask and a teenage girl around my age. Not exactly a crowd that justifies such annoyance.

I looked at him with a soft, apologetic tone. “Sorry.. how much was the total again?”

He sighed, sounding defeated. “Fifty dollars.” And without thinking, I shouted, “Fifty dollars?!”

I paid the money and walked out of that thieving store. I yawned, stretched my arms over my head, and began my walk home through the night streets of Neoguso, under a cheerful moon and sterile streetlights.

People passed by, sharing their energy, smiles, and hugs. It seemed James had hoarded everyone’s sadness for himself. What a dishonorable, selfish sacrifice, James.

I was almost home when a strange hand grabbed my arm and pulled me into a dark alley. I tried to resist, to see who this idiot was, but it was useless.

Suddenly, they slammed me against the wall. Two figures appeared before me, looking like an old oil painting ruined by wet rags..

Disgusting..

The man looked to be in his thirties; gaunt, average height, with dark eyes and greasy blonde hair that looked like a cow had licked it. Is your mind okay, man?

His friend was a girl. His girlfriend?.. Doesn’t matter..

She looked in her twenties, her brown hair coiled over her shoulder; a sign of deceptive flattery for strangers. You could tell from her clothes; they screamed desperation long before they spoke of fashion or style. Wearing such cheap rags doesn’t just cost money. She was short, neither fat nor thin.

“Where are you going so late, kid?” the man said, brandishing a pathetic kitchen knife with a sly, belittling smirk. “Won’t you join us on a little tour?”

His friend stepped closer, inspecting me like she was checking a wedding ring or a slave. “Oh, Carl, you're so silly, let the boy go. Don’t you see him shivering like a little puppy? Let him go; he hasn’t discovered life yet,” she said with a hint of mocking sweetness.

Carl chuckled. “Shut up, idiot. I know what I’m doing. People like this, Dala, live in luxury mansions with gold seal fountains. I bet his wallets at home are bursting.”

Dala rested her head on his shoulder. Could she touch a man that easily? Oh, right, her appearance said it all.

But her gaze remained fixed on me; a mix of sharpness and softness that signaled both possession and need. “I agree, it’s a golden opportunity. but brother, don’t forget my needs. This boy is young.”

Brother? They’re siblings? This is a farce!

Despite my disgust, her piercing gaze affected me. My face flushed; a rare reaction called shyness, I felt the blood racing up my veins to my face.

Carl laughed at his sister’s crude joke. “Hahaha! My dear sister, don’t be such a slut that you break the poor boy’s heart. I’ve got some seplements that’ll make him like a horse for you tonight.”

Then he turned to me, placing a hand on my shoulder, whispering a threat that sounded like an offer. “Right, kid? Are you going to show her the man inside you?”

I stared at them without a word. All of this was new to me.

I had heard these stories, but I’d never faced them directly. An invitation for a relationship with a desperate woman? How absurd.

Dala let out a ridiculous laugh, worse than those of arrogant nobles. She began tracing circles on my chest with her finger; endless circles. “Hmm, despite his age, he looks cute.. and firm too.”

The right compliment from the wrong person. It only fueled my irritation and disgust. I couldn’t help myself; I slapped her hand away. “Sorry, I’m not into sluts.”

I was being quite polite, but her cuckold brother’s reaction was predictably violent. He punched the wall beside me, trapping me, and pressed the knife to my neck. “Who are you calling a slut, you little midget?” he hissed through gritted teeth.

So, you’re quick to ignite, huh?

“I wasn’t referring to you,” I said, a sharp, firm look masking my innocent face.

Despite my bitter sarcasm, his sister laughed as if she agreed. She hugged her brother from behind, pouring cheap belated maternal affection on him. “Oh, Carl, don’t be angry. He’s just a teenager who learned two words and started using them.”

How ridiculus. I no longer knew who the teenager was and who the adult was between us.

“Remember what the doctor said about your anger,” she added before entering the opposite building. “I’m worried about you, relax. I’ll call Ralf to deal with this boy, or else it’ll be my first turn for today, okay?”

Carl kept his eyes fixed on me with suppressed hostility.

If he was this jealous of his sister, why let her be surrounded by other men?

Worse, why think those tight rags would turn me on? Then comes her honorable brother talking about shame.

Humans are truly selfish; they support or oppose arguments based solely on their interests. They lose their minds over money. It’s a delicious poison, a mirror that reveals the true nature of people.

Seconds later, a dark skinned man emerged from the same door. He wore a tight, short sleeved black shirt that revealed a body built like a mass destruction human weapon. He was bald, wearing sunglasses and a gold watch. Welcome to modern slavery!

Ralf stopped beside Carl. “What’s the matter, man?”

“This little son of bitch refuses to honor us with a small gift, despite our kindness,” Carl replied.

Ralf cracked his knuckles and neck, then leaned over me until his shadow swallowed me whole. His voice was calm but screamed a warning, the smell of fish on his breath adding to the suffocating air. “Kid, let’s be clear. Give us everything you have, and we’ll leave you alone. If you resist, or scream, or act stubborn, you won’t like what happens next.”

His overwhelming presence attacked my mind. My heart raced, but I couldn’t show it. “I see. But a simple question, if you take my money, what do we both gain?”

He laughed, head tilted toward the sky. “Hahaha! This isn’t a deal where we both win, kid. We’re robbing you but without the bruises and broken bones.”

I didn’t care. I had to push into their space; maybe I’d find a gap in their pity. “Stealing money without working for it? What is the value of something if you don’t strive to earn it?”

The two looked at each other in confusion. Carl remained silent, glaring like a caged tiger, while his friend boasted of his muscles. “What are you talking about? Is this part of what we asked? Give us what you have and stop stalling.”

My response was a swift, gentle attack; it was a test. “How will you feel after getting money this way? Are you proud of yourselves? Will you be happy? What does happiness really look like? What does your life even mean? Is there any value to your existence?”

Silence fell for a moment. Carl’s expression didn’t change, but his friend tapped my head mockingly. “Listen, your childish games won’t work on us. Give us your stuff, or we take it by force. My patience is running thin.”

He thundered his chest. “This is our job as men, something a midget like you wouldn’t understand. Empty your pockets and go home; you’ve got homework to do, right?” He laughed with his mouth wide open, like a crocodile waiting for a bird to fall in. I decided to toss a poisonous bird into that mouth.

I’d to be brave...

“The value of homework and knowledge is something a low life parasite like me or a blockheaded bald idiot like you could never understand.”

An accusation of ignorance is an assault on the ego. Self-obsessed people often react violently to protect their image.

As expected, Ralf flinched, his fist clenching to strike. But the gaunt Carl held him back with his arm, issuing a final warning “Kid, stop playing, or we won’t hesitate to hurt you.”

I raised my hands in surrender with a faint, innocent smile. “Fine, I understand. My pockets are yours. Take what you want. But how about a little game?..”

End of Chapter One – How about a little game?