From Yaguar [BL]

"HOW LONG COULD YOU HOLD your breath underwater?"

‘An hour,’ Valentina thought.

The gentle breeze from the metal fan on top of the ceiling filtered into the gym, providing relief to students stretching in the centre while the other students closer to the wall remained trapped in heat. Valentina sat on the corner bleachers closest to the gym's entrance.

He disliked interacting with his classmates, especially when they sweated from playing basketball—they gave off a musky odour. The rancid smell made him squirm, and his short, black sports vest did little to block the stench.

His pores rose as he felt eyes on him.

It was Mr. Glyn. He was staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

A peaceful silence fell over the entire gymnasium.

"Mr. Yaguar," Mr. Glyn began, "do you have anything to add?"

Valentina squinted at his teacher, his hands clenching slightly.

He took a quick glance at the blank page in front of him and slowly capped his black ballpoint pen. When he closed his textbook, he tugged at the orange sports band on his wrist with a jaguar logo on it that had been digging into his wrist.

The gaze of his physical education teacher and his classmates dug into his skin, scorching him with open curiosity that never failed to make him feel on edge.

Valentina felt an instinctive desire to claw their faces. However, he couldn't afford to have negative attention directed at him.

No, a night spent in prison isn't what he needed. Not right now.

"Not particularly," Valentina said.

He wondered if he could slip and hide underneath the bleachers. He wondered if, if he did, they would all forget he was here.

Unlikely.

"Mr. Yaguar." Mr. Glyn's lips twitched as he playfully wagged his finger. "I require 100 percent participation from every student in my class, and that includes you."

"I could give you my 100 percent, but I promise you wouldn't like it." Valentina shrugged, and his blue eyes shone as everyone turned away.

"I hope you're able to keep up that vibrant attitude in detention tomorrow, Mr. Yaguar." Mr. Glyn drawled, and his lips twitched as if he were about to sneer. "Class dismissed."

Valentina quickly packed his textbook in his book bag and followed his fellow classmates out of the gym.

Detention on the first day of school for the new year wasn't ideal, but it brought his classmates attention off of him. So that's a plus.

Everyone pays attention to the smart kid. No one bothers to pay attention to the troublemaker.

Upon arriving at the closest bathroom, he went towards the cleanest sink he could find and washed his face. The cold water from the rusty sink crawled into his skin.

Valentina gazed at his reflection in the mirror. For a brief moment, a creature's cold blue eyes reflected in front of his eyes, triggering an intense feeling of coldness to spread up his back, causing a shiver to run through his entire body.

The door swung open and then closed abruptly. A group of students entered the cramped bathroom, causing a slight spasm to ripple along his tightly clenched jaw, as if he had just received a shock of electricity through his body, prompting his blood to boil.

After finishing his business in the toilet, he took steps towards the door when a sultry voice called from behind him.

"Valentina."

It was Willaim. His crush. He passed him a purple flyer and smiled. His keen stare appeared capable of interpreting the inconceivable. "Tonight, there's going to be a party at the back of McFonald's. I was hoping you would be there."

"I-"

"I was hoping you would say yes, because if you do decide to stand me up, know that you will regret it. I don't think you would begrudge me for telling everyone about your furry little problem."

Valentina felt a momentary pause in his heart. The creature within his chest stirred, prompting him to slowly nod his head.

When he entered the biology lab, it felt as if someone's delicate touch had ruthlessly lifted a veil of illusion from his eyes—all Bunsen burners and Erlenmyer flasks that clicked on the table sounded offly far away. He behaved as if nothing unusual had occurred and calmly headed towards his seat. Among the gazes that slid over him, only his lab partner's stopped and stared at him, as if she noticed something was wrong.

He counted that as a win.

Calantha, who had been sitting vertically beside him, poked his arms slightly below the table as soon as he sat down.

She asked. "Why did you take so long in the toilet?"

Valentina fell silent and stared at William's empty seat at the front of the class. Despite the fact that he had been basically BLACKMAILED, the rest of the class continued to chat in their seats as usual.

His classmates were mostly concerned with gossip about schoolwork and who dated whom; rather than feeling alarmed, the majority of the class was simply curious and energetic.

How easy they all have it! They weren't the ones hiding their identities. They weren't the ones who had to hide a part of themselves to be expected by the wider society.

How enviable.

How disgusting.

One of the benefits of being young is the ability to rely on friends or parents for monetary or emotional support.

Valentina had no one.

He didn't know what to do.

He couldn't do anything. He was afraid to confront Willaim about it. No. No, that person wasn't Willaim. That person was just a beast wearing Willaim's face.

The Willaim he knew wouldn't blackmail him. But did he really know him? Aside from his good looks and the fact that he always does his homework for him, what else did he like about him?

Has he been looking at William with rose-tinted glasses all this time?

How did he know about his 'furry little problem'!?

Could he be bluffing?

No, his statement was too accurate to be counted as a bluff.

And even if it was a bluff, it would have been foolish of him to ignore what Willaim said.

He had to do something.

But what?

Should he kill him? The beast in his chest purred at the idea.

No, no, no. He couldn't do that. He'll get in trouble if people find out he was the culprit, so even if he were to kill Willaim and get rid of any 'evidence' it would be pointless to kill him because then his death would draw even more attention to him.

Should he tell someone? Report Willaim to a teacher or maybe the police.

But what would he say? 'Willaim is blackmailing me because he discovered I'm not entirely normal?' Like hell, he would say that. Even if he did report Willaim, what would stop him from going crazy and telling everyone his secret? Maybe people might not have believed him, but he was sure the suspicion would be planted and take root like a virus in people's minds and wouldn't be going away anytime soon.

The number of eyes and rumours surrounding him would be horrendous.

Should he run away from here? Should he go back home?

Absolutely not. His pride would not have handled it if he crawled back home, asking for help. He would rather die and be outed than ask for help.

The only option that seemed advisable was going to the party.

He'd go to the party and meet Willaim, and if they could talk it out and come to a consensus over rum and alcohol, that would be fantastic. If not, he wouldn't know what to do.

His classmates, who had finished washing various chemical equipment, bounced in their seats, unable to control themselves. Their eyes were following their biology teacher as she finished packing away her folders into a cabinet. It will be the end of class when their biology teacher walks out that door!

The biology teacher quirked the corner of her mouth and leaned against the classroom door as if she knew what her students were thinking. She queried, "What is the process by which organisms adapt to their environment in order to increase their chances of survival?"

The entire class, including Valentina, shouted different responses. "Adaption!" "Brumation!" "Migration!"

With a chuckle, the biology teacher shook her head in amusement before gracefully leaving the classroom. "Class dismissed."

The entire classroom descended into a state of pandemonium and disorder.

Valentina swiftly headed out of the lab, and once he realised no one was watching him, he began sprinting with all his might. His green suede shoes skittered across the entryway and into the hallway.

Every now and then, he would glance back; it was as if a hidden, wicked monster was hiding behind him, attempting to kidnap him. Interestingly, the monster in his mind bore Willaim's face.

His skin was medium-toned and naturally tanned to a warm, golden hue that looked as though it were about to turn red from the heated sun shining on his back. A couple of old men strolled past him, laughing along the way. Valentina paid no heed to them, choosing instead to channel every ounce of his stamina and focus into his relentless goal.

He had to get home in time to prepare for the party.

But first, he wanted to stop by a local corner store to get some clothes. If he had to fight for his life and a non-existent reputation at the party, he would do so while looking his best.

Once the final school bell ceased to ring, Valentina had already arrived at the clothing store, covering a distance of one kilometre in just ten seconds.

The beast in his chest purred, feeling relaxed after an afternoon run.

He walked inside the store. His pulse was vibrating as loudly as a horn. Valentina wiped the sweat from his forehead and tightened his grip on his wallet.

The small store was bathed in the fading sunlight, with the occasional wisps of crisp minty fragrance drifting out from the air conditioning units.

Picking through the options in the closest clothes rack he could find, he selected a slim belted blazer in black and silver and tapered leather cargo trousers in burgundy.

He paused and wondered if he should buy a tuxedo and a mask instead, then shrugged.

It's a party at the back of a fast-food restaurant. How fancy could that get?

Smack!

Aaargh!

Bang!

In between the clipping sound of the many scurrying feet on the marble floor, Valentina heard a thud and a barley audible sniffle.

A group of schoolboys had a knife pointed at someone up in a changing stall. A boy dressed in red khaki trousers raised his hands in the air; he made no attempt to resist the wandering hands in his pants pockets, nor did he raise his eyes from the floor.

The beast in his chest twitched and lazily rolled around.

No. He wasn't getting involved.

He felt sincerely sorry, and he wanted to help the boy, who appeared to be his age, avoid being robbed, but he already had enough on his plate. He couldn't afford to draw attention to himself, especially now that his life was at stake.

That did not stop the guilt from chipping away at his self-doubt, causing the beast in his chest to huff.

Valentina folded his clothes and attempted to walk past the schoolboys, who were throwing and flinging clothes at the boy in the red kahki pants.

Without looking at the schoolboys, he focused on the clothes he was carrying. However, the minute he reached the cashier, he put his clothes on top of the counter to make a purchase.

He then grabbed an old bill lying around on the counter and fished out a ballpoint pen from his pocket. He wrote on the old paper, 'Call the police.'

Valentina could only do so much for the boy right now.

He managed to notify the woman behind the cashier machine with much success, but before the cashier frantically reached for her phone, he was suddenly yanked by his arm.

"Mr. Snitch, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

The beast in his chest stilled.

Valentina was like a wild wolf, which was unceremoniously lured with the promise of meat into a pack of rabid dogs.

He had no choice but to bare his teeth to defend himself.

A boy in a black t-shirt extended his hand towards him, but Valentina slapped it away.

Huffing, another boy in militia trousers shoved his shoulder. "What were you up to?"

"None of your fucking business!" Valentina cursed and stomped on the boy's foot.

Another boy swaggered to the counter and snatched the old bill from the cashier's hand, disregarding her frightened gasp. He quickly read the note and exclaimed, "Aha! He told her to go and rat us out to the coppers!"

Valentina pursed his lips and braced himself for a fight.

"The police!" The boy in a black t-shirt shouted in shock, "Fuck! Shit! Dumb bitch! I'll kill you."

'Kill me with what? His unintelligible words?' Valentina thought.

In some ways, humans are similar to animals in that they team up against weaker beings to establish their dominance. The animalistic part of him respects this behaviour, but the human part of him finds the entire process bothersome.

If you dislike someone, why not avoid them? That way, Valentina wouldn't have to send these delinquents to the local hospital.

He cautioned the beast within him that the boy was human, and his bones were brittle and could easily break.

Valentina focused on the boy across from him, who was brandishing an army knife. The boy's hands looked like a pair of buttery fingers. His sweat reeked of tension and adrenaline, almost causing the knife to slip out of his hand.

Valentina felt a rush of dread. He suddenly felt stifled and constipated while standing in the harsh blue lightning within the circle of aggravated schoolchildren. His fighting experiences, shaped by ruthlessness, suggested a certain pleasure in the sound of a broken bone and the assurance it provided. However, such tendencies hold no significance at present.

This dread was caused by the potential death of a human caused by a minuscule miscalculation hanging in the air.

How fragile the lives of humans are. How bleak.

Anything could happen here, he realized. The beast in his chest shared images of someone coming up behind him to hold him down; the boy across from him could trip and fall, impaling himself with his knife; and a skull could break at the flick of his wrist.

So many possibilities.

So little time.

‘I'm scared,’ Valentina realised.

The beast in his chest let out a yawn.

He circled closer to the exit, goading the boy into action, repeating silently to himself the first instructions he was given when his father taught him to fight: 'The eyes of prey often give away the exact spot they plan to attack.'

It felt like a strong river taking over his body, causing his muscles to relax and prepare themselves.

"I'll carve out your face with my butter knife." The boy snarled. He leaped suddenly in the midst of uttering the final word. "Then I'll use it as this year's Halloween decoration."

His companions stifled a flinch and rushed into the background.

Where the boy struck, Valentina's eyes stared at the knife cutting through the air; it was as if the knife was swinging towards him in slow motion. He sidestepped to his right and hit the boy's ribs.

The young boy crumpled to the ground, emitting a pained groan. Valentina delivered a swift kick to his abdomen, sending him soaring through the air until he crashed into a clothing rack and relinquished his grip on the knife.

How easy it was to hurt the boy. It was like stepping on an ant.

The others in the back shifted their feet uneasily.

Valentina retreated at a safe distance. He snarked, "First, you'll need a knife."

He respected the boy's endurance as he got back up quickly, as if he were used to being hit several times. However, Valentina was trained to deliver such attacks. Avoid, counteract, and repel them. It was hammered into his bones. Into the very recesses of his brain, like some fucked-up instinctive reaction to pressure.

That was one of the reasons he avoided interacting with people in this town; if his psychological state worsened, he had no idea what he would do. He would have most likely killed someone after the first week he was here.

Once more, the boy attacked, his murky-tired eyes glaring. His fist rose, resembling a tiny boulder that could be effortlessly cracked.

And once again, Valentina skillfully evaded the attack, kicking the boy a significant distance away from him. This continued to happen repeatedly, with Valentina sidestepping the attack multiple times in a row.

"Fuck Ford Just what are you doing? Just kill him already!" Someone in the back urged. "This is humiliating to watch as is."

Valentina could hear his heart beating like a tambourine. He had not experienced this much adrenaline in a long time. However, he needed to end this quickly, as the sun was about to set.

Ford leapt up from his seat, closing the gap between them with remarkable agility. Without hesitation, he forcefully pushed Valentina in the chest.

Grabbing his wrist, Valentina pulled him closer, and the two engaged in a fierce exchange of punches.

Ford's larger frame allowed him to deliver powerful blows, although his injuries caused his movements to be slightly delayed. The fight between them was a close battle of stamina, marked by fierce competition and a ruthless determination to win.

Valentina switched tactics and wrapped his arm around Ford's neck. He raised his dominant arm until his forearm was securely wedged between his opponent's chin and chest, then tightly wrapped his arms around his neck to keep them in place before bending down to break his neck.

In a desperate struggle for breath, an effervescent liquid seeped from the edge of Ford's lips, while his body betrayed him as his bladder emptied unexpectedly, leaving an indelible mark on the ground and his clothes.

"I give up! I give up!" Ford wheezed. "Please."

Despite the desperate hands tapping his forearm, Valentina kept a tight grip. He needed everyone to learn not to mess with him.

In the animal kingdom, it is the most tenacious predators that are able to thrive.

As the door swung open, a gust of fresh air gently flowed into the room. He seized the back of Ford's head and slammed it repeatedly against the hard surface of the cashier's counter.

The cashier let out a piercing scream and quickly retreated, her skin drained of colour and resembling a blank, white piece of parchment.

Blood sprayed across the countertop, covering the open register and a pack of orange bubblegum. Valentina's face and clothes became stained with blood, which almost looked brown as it dried. The store smelled like a graveyard.

Everyone in the store turned pale at the sight of blood dripping down Valentina's cheek.

"That's enough." A cold voice sounded behind him.

The beast in his chest perked his ears up.

Heading for his beast's advice, he twisted his head to face a boy dressed in ripped jeans and wearing a black leather jacket.

Amidst the faint glow of dusk, Valentina's attention was captivated by a set of impassive, deep ebony eyes that lacked any trace of sentiment or warmth.

'It felt as though I was gazing into a vast emptiness that threatened to engulf me,' Valentina observed.

"E-Evander," Ford hoarsely whispered, his voice growing thick and unsteady.

"Boss," another boy greeted, taking a subtle step back.

Valentina was stunned for a moment before he was overcome by an overwhelming surge of panic, akin to his heart plunging into a blistering abyss. Gradually, an intense heat began to crawl down his neck, finally settling as a burdensome, smouldering sensation deep within his core.

The beast in his chest purred, licking his paws.

He knew who those pair of eyes belonged to—he knew too intimately because, as soon as he felt it once, he could never mistake the feel of his eyes again.

Valentina glanced at Evander, who was standing in the middle of the store, staring daggers at him.

Evander's dark eyes were framed with eyeliner, and his coiffed straight hair brushed against his ears as he tilted his head in an unspoken threat.

A bully is his mate. How pathetic.