A few songs later…725Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVvIGNgb4Ah
Nearing the summit of the hill where the road began to flatten, the seaside town had shrunk behind the boy, its sounds of industry becoming fainter in his ascent. As he hiked past his neighbours' homes, he noticed young couples getting ready for work, the elderly returning from their morning strolls, and others gardening, raking, and contributing to the community. Everyone was in motion, busying themselves without a second to lose, all the while they berated their children for idling instead of going to school. Arminius hurried his pace when he realised the time on his pager, with his hands clipped around the straps of his bag and humming in tune to his favourite song. He spiritedly approached the entry of a gas station, but as he checked the road for any automobiles wanting to swing by to refill their tanks, he felt something or someone yank him back by his bag.
Letting out a slight yelp, he tripped and tipped back before finding himself hovering upside down in the hands of the troublemaker, but when Arminius turned his eyes towards the shadowed figure looming over him, he was surprised to see the face of a friend. “Colt?” Having found his ground, he sprang upright and spun around to notice that his appearance had somewhat changed.
It was sorely clear that Colt was taller than Arminius, who would often be the subject of his ridicule. Yet given their rivalry in academics and practical skills, it was nothing short of a miracle that these polar opposite characters were able to befriend one another. There was always a hint of belittling pride burning in his brown almond-shaped eyes, with one of his pupils in the shape of a dragon that looked down on everyone who he believed was inferior, except for Arminius, the only boy he would consider, almost by obligation, an equal. His ego, however, was natural. He believed in the divinity of his noble Seriker lineage, which was regarded as equivalent to the rarest jade found on earth, yet his behaviour did not reflect his social class. The Easterner’s uniform was rugged, the soles of his shoes were peeling from the seams, and he had a hole in his bag that was ready to rip apart at any given moment. A stranger might mistake him for a delinquent, but he did not care about the opinions of those he considered inferior to the name Chō.
Adjusting his cloth headband that sat beneath his short parted hair, the full-blooded Seriker muttered. “Muttsa tsukbō peinoi ondā? (Won’t you tire yourself walking so quickly?)” He pushed Arminius onwards and hurried across the entrance of the gas station.
Arminius frowned, not being able to understand a word of southern Seriker. “What?” He asked, but he shook his head, knowing he should not be thinking too much about it. “Anyway, when did you get a haircut?” Looking back at Colt, he pointed at the style that he had gone for.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice yesterday.” Colt ran his fingers along his hair on the back of his head and showed him he had gotten rid of the rattail he used to wear.
“About time you did… but what am I going to pull on now?” Arminius cast a mischievous glance at Colt before he grabbed on his bangs and gave them a tug as recompense for earlier.
The Easterner reached for his friend, intending to counterattack, but he slipped out of his hands and ran off giggling. Upon seeing his smugness, the Easterner could not let his friend go free without exacting some form of revenge, so he chased after him with all his might and an annoyed expression. They leapt over a stream of water flowing down the side of the hill and passed by the gas station's price board, which changed daily for the worse, though inflation was not the cause. Each litre of petroleum cost nearly thirteen crowns—a price that one would see on a menu in a lavish restaurant—and it is wasteful, constant warring that would soon empty the last reserves of this black gold.725Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡURcbkQZGFe
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