Kind's POV
Soft sunlight filtered through the narrow gap between the curtains, casting thin golden beams that danced across Kind's face. He drifted in and out of a restless dream.
In his dream, a shadowy figure stood before a crackling fire — only his torso and wild hair visible. The man raised a single rose, shaking it in the air like a question.
"Love? Hm." The figure muttered before flinging the rose into the flames. "No one will love you. And if someone does, they'll suffer because of your misfortune."
Then, a horrible laugh erupted — long and chilling, echoing like a curse:
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha..."
Suddenly, Kind's eyes flew open, his breath catching in a terrified gasp.
"Nooo!" he cried, heart pounding as he glanced around the dim room. Just a dream... just a dream, he whispered, clutching his chest as if to calm the storm inside.
His fingers searched for the small wooden clock on his bedside table, lifting it into view. The hands pointed firmly at six o'clock.
Grandma always said morning nightmares are warnings... signs of what's to come.
Kind stared at the clock, unease twisting inside him.
Before he could dwell longer, the sharp ding-dong of the doorbell rang through the silence.
Ding-ding-dong-dong!
He sat up quickly, scratching his left arm as he hurried down the stairs.
Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-dong!
"I'm coming! Wait a second!" Kind called out, quickening his pace toward the door.
Standing on the porch was Win, dressed neatly in his school uniform, backpack slung over one shoulder.
"Good morning, sir! From today until your parents arrive, I'll be cooking for you," he said in one breath, as if reciting a memorized speech.
"Win?" Kind murmured, surprise widening his eyes. How did he find me so early?
"Can I come in?" Win asked politely.
Kind nodded, stepping aside as Win entered the quiet house. There was no surprise on Win's face — he knew exactly who he was here for.
"Why are you here? And how did you know my address?" Kind asked, remembering he'd never told Win where he lived.
"My mom was hired by your mother to be your maid for a few days," Win explained, dropping his backpack on the couch.
"And where is your mom now?" Kind asked, sensing something was off.
Win's smile vanished like a shadow slipping away. "She's been sick for the past few days," he said quietly. Kind stepped closer, offering a tissue.
"So, I came instead."
"But if your mom's been sick, she shouldn't have agreed to come," Kind said softly.
"She couldn't refuse. We're not wealthy like your family. We have to work to get by," Win's voice caught as he wiped his nose, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "I couldn't bear to see her struggling to get out of bed just to come here. So I took her place."
Kind was silent, absorbing the weight of those words.
"So... where's the kitchen?" Win asked, suddenly smiling as if putting on a new mask.
"Come, I'll show you," Kind said, leading the way.
The kitchen was large and gleamed with polished utensils, some hanging neatly from hooks drilled into the wall.
Wow. Win's eyes brightened. Cooking had been his dream since childhood — to become a chef in a fancy restaurant. This kitchen was like a treasure trove to him.
He pulled an apron hanging from the fridge handle and tied it snugly around his waist.
"So, what do you want me to make?" Win asked, brandishing a knife with a teasing smile.
"Anything's fine," Kind said, watching as Win settled in to work. Will he be able to make something simple?
A few minutes later, Kind stood in front of his mirror, dressed in his school uniform. A small box rested unopened in his hands—the gift Jun had given him—and flowers from Jun sat in a white vase in the corner.
Let's see what's inside, Kind murmured, carefully unwrapping the box.
Inside lay a silver locket shaped like half a broken heart and a matching bracelet engraved with a delicate "K."
"Locket and bracelet," he whispered. Do friends really give these kinds of things? He paused, then slid them on, feeling a quiet warmth settle over him.
Slipping his backpack over one shoulder, Kind made his way downstairs.
The delicious aroma of cooking filled the house and wrapped around him like a warm hug.
"Wow, it smells amazing!" Kind said, approaching Win who was carrying a steaming bowl.
The table was spread with soup, French toast, banana milkshake in a jar, roasted sausage, and star-fried eggs.
"That's a lot of food!" Kind exclaimed, pulling out a chair.
"It's just a little," Win said with a grin, settling beside him.
Kind cut a piece of the egg and tasted it. It was light and fluffy—like biting into a cloud.
"Win, this is fantastic," he praised, taking another bite. "I didn't know you were such a good cook."
Win smiled shyly. "Thank you, sir!"
They ate quietly for a moment until Win's eyes suddenly widened.
"Kind, you had dinner with Jun last night, right?"
Kind looked up, surprised.
"Yeah... why?"
"That guy never eats dinner with friends. How did you get that chance?"
Kind shrugged, raising a spoon to his lips. "He's well-mannered and even arranged dinner for me."
"So... a dinner date, huh?" Win teased, eyes sparkling.
Kind choked on his soup, coughing as it spilled down his chin.
"Oh, Kind," Win said, handing him a glass of water.
As Kind drank, a question nagged at him. How did Win know about dinner with Jun?
"Wait—how do you know that?" he asked.
Win showed his phone, flipping to an Instagram post. There was a picture of Jun and Kind together.
When did Jun take that photo?
"It's strange. He never posts pictures with friends, but there you are," Win said, frowning.
"Maybe we should drop it. Otherwise, we'll be late," Kind said, glancing at his watch.
They hurriedly finished eating. Win cleared the dishes while Kind wiped the small spills on the table.
Backpacks on, they rushed out the door toward school.
"Did you finish the assignment from Teacher Limbu?" Win asked as they walked.
Kind nodded. It was January 3rd. Birdsong fluttered through the chilly air.
Suddenly, a sleek black car roared up beside them.
"Ahhh!" They both jumped back, startled.
The driver's window rolled down slowly, revealing Mean's familiar face — charming, with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Good morning, Win," Mean said.
"Good morning, Mean dada," Win replied with a smirk.
Mean made a face. "I've told you a hundred times not to call me 'dada'."
Kind remembered Mean — the boy who'd been involved in that incident on Kind's first day at the new school.
"Need a ride?"
"No thanks," Win answered quickly.
"I didn't ask you," Mean said, turning his gaze to Kind. "I asked him."
But you said 'guys'! Win thought.
"Sorry, we're fine," Kind replied.
"Okay, see you at school." Mean sped off, tires crunching gravel.
"He's strange," Kind muttered once the car disappeared.
"Definitely," Win agreed, and they continued toward school.