Kaal and Arka

Chapter 1 — KILL YOU Arka had been the kind of kid who made the hallway quiet when he passed. Tall—around 178 cm—with a face that made people look twice, he had the privilege of a good family name and the arrogance that came with it. Lately, though, even his favorite cruelty bored him. Pushing people around that used to feel entertaining now felt flat. The teasing, the fights, the fear in other students’ eyes — all of it suddenly felt dull. What’s the point if no one’s fun anymore? he thought. So he stopped. Or tried to. Everyone else seemed to be getting on with their lives, and he didn’t care to wait for the next thrill. But there was one person he couldn’t leave alone. Kaal. Kaal. The transfer who’d arrived a year ago with nothing known about his past. Top of the class, impossibly pretty, and cold in a way that made him unreadable. Mysterious, smart, beautiful. So quiet, so composed, and so cold that Arka couldn’t help but notice him. Rumors called him a genius; some kids whispered that he might even be a girl if they glanced the wrong way. He was the kind of beauty that turned heads and stirred envy — soft features, a cold stare, and lips that never smiled anymore. Kaal’s calm wasn’t like anyone else’s. It wasn’t shy — it was sharp, distant, deliberate. People whispered that he was a scholarship student, too poor to fit in, too brilliant to ignore. And the more they whispered, the more walls Kaal built around himself. Once cheerful, now he only smiled with his eyes — never his lips. That coldness was what caught Arka’s attention. He’s so damn calm. Like nothing touches him. And for some reason, that made Arka’s day feel incomplete if he didn’t bother him at least once. Arka found Kaal irritating in a way that kept him awake: teasing him was the only thing that made the day feel sharp. He told himself it was an annoyance. But every time he caught sight of that face, his heart did a strange, irritating skip. Why do you look so smug all the time? Just one smirk and you drive me crazy. ⸻ That day, Kaal was coming back from the teacher’s office when Arka intercepted him with a smirk. “Hey, nerd. Got another hundred?” His tone was mocking, but his grin was restless — like he needed attention. Kaal didn’t even look up. “Jealous much, bully boy?” “What? No. Why would I care about some nerd’s test?” Arka frowned, pretending to scoff. “Good. Then stop bothering me.” Kaal adjusted his glasses, voice cold as glass. “Whatever. Just hope you didn’t cheat again,” Arka shot back. That made Kaal look up — eyes sharp, mouth curving in a deadly little smile. “Sorry to disappoint you, big bully, but I don’t cheat. Maybe you should focus on passing for once.” Heat crawled up Arka’s neck. “I don’t need to cheat to get good grades. I’m—” he stopped, because the lie tasted hollow even in his head. Kaal rolled his eyes and went back to his book. Arka bristled, then reached for the sleeve of Kaal’s uniform without thinking. He meant to shove, to mock—anything to break the quiet—but Kaal’s body moved oddly light against the pull. Kaal stumbled, their faces came too close, his nose colliding with Arka’s lip. Both froze. For a second, their faces were so close, Arka could feel Kaal’s breath against his skin. Arka jerked back and steadied Kaal's footing. For a beat, everything froze. Then Kaal hissed and clutched his face. Blood pooled in his fingers. He's bleeding from the hit. Blood. “Oh, crap— I didn’t— I mean— wait here!” Arka panicked, nearly tripping over his own feet before dashing out of the room. ⸻ That night, Arka couldn’t sleep. He rolled around, staring at the ceiling, hearing Kaal’s voice in his head again and again. Jealous much, bully boy? His stomach twisted. Why did he care so much? It wasn’t like he’d never made anyone bleed before. But this was different. He hadn’t meant it. He’d seen the pain flash across Kaal’s face — and for once, it didn’t make him feel powerful. It made him feel small. ⸻ The next morning, Arka found Kaal by his locker. “Hey, uh… how’s your nose?” Kaal glanced at him, unimpressed. “It’s fine. I don’t need your concern.” Arka swallowed, noticing how Kaal’s eyes darted to the dark circles under his own. He didn’t sleep either, Kaal thought, a flicker of curiosity rising. “That’s good,” Arka said quickly. “Here.” He handed Kaal a folded piece of paper. “What’s this?” “My number,” Arka said, avoiding eye contact. “If you ever… need help. Or something.” Kaal stared blankly. “Help? From you?” Arka scratched his neck. “Hey, I’m trying, okay? I wanna make things right.” Kaal raised an eyebrow. “Make things right by giving me your number?” Arka groaned. “Fine! Forget it. Just— keep it. You never know.” After a long pause, Kaal sighed. “Okay. I’ll save it. Happy?” Arka’s grin twitched into something awkwardly genuine. “Yeah. Kinda.” But then his expression shifted — more serious, nervous. “There’s… something I need to tell you. But not here.” Kaal frowned. “Oh no. I’m not falling for that ‘meet me behind the gym’ trap again.” “It’s not a trap,” Arka said quickly. “It’s important. Please, just come. Alone.” Kaal looked at him suspiciously. Why is he acting like a bad drama character? “Fine,” he said finally. “But if this is a prank, I’ll report you.” “Deal,” Arka said softly, almost smiling. ⸻ After school, Kaal followed the directions to a small, abandoned storage shed behind the gym. Dusty, quiet, empty. Arka stood near the door, waiting like he’d been pacing for hours. “You came,” he said, relief in his voice. “I’m here,” Kaal replied, scanning the place warily. “So? What’s this about?” Arka motioned him inside. “We need privacy. No one can hear us here.” Kaal hesitated, hating the darkness. The air was heavy with dust, and the space felt too small. “Hurry up. I don’t like this place.” Arka glanced at him — noticed the tension in his shoulders, the faint tremble in his hand. Without thinking, Kaal grabbed Arka’s sleeve for balance. Arka’s breath hitched. He’s trembling…? Why does that make my heart race? Then, suddenly, Arka reached into his jacket pocket. Kaal froze. Something metallic gleamed under the dim light. Kaal’s eyes widened. “W—What are you doing?” Arka’s hands shook slightly. “I—I should’ve told you earlier…” The air went still. The shed felt smaller. Kaal’s heart pounded in his ears. “Don’t move,” Arka whispered. “I just— need to show you something.” Kaal’s breath caught. Is he serious? His mind raced. He brought a gun?! The silence pressed down between them — thick, trembling, waiting to explode.