Echoes of the Rain

Lucky kid

Yohan scanned the room briefly before choosing a seat directly behind Yuri. As he settled into the chair, the classroom buzzed with whispered conversations about him. Yuri could feel the weight of his presence, even without turning around. She remained focused on the lesson, but the atmosphere felt different now, more charged with curiosity and tension.

Yohan's proximity made Yuri a bit more self-conscious, especially after the earlier events. She could hear the faint rustle of his bag as he unpacked his notebook, the subtle creak of the chair as he adjusted himself to get comfortable.

Despite the whispers and glances directed at him, Yohan seemed unbothered, his attention already on the lesson. Yuri, on the other hand, tried her best to ignore the growing curiosity in the room, focusing instead on the teacher's words. But in the back of her mind, she couldn't shake the feeling that Yohan's presence behind her was somehow significant, as if his arrival marked the beginning of something she couldn't yet understand.

As soon as the teacher left the classroom, a few students gathered around Yohan's seat, which was right behind mine. I couldn't help but overhear their conversation. They were whispering, but it was clear enough for me to catch every word.

"Did you know he's been the top student for the last five years?" one of them said, sounding impressed.

"Yeah, and his dad's the CEO of some big company," another added with admiration.

"And his mom's a doctor. No wonder he's so smart," someone else chimed in.

I listened, feeling a strange mix of emotions. How lucky Yohan was, I thought. He had everything-great grades, respect from everyone, wealth, and even the teachers seemed to treat him differently. He was clearly Mr. Popular around here. Meanwhile, I was just trying to keep my head down and survive this place.

My thoughts were interrupted when another teacher walked into the room-Miss Kumi. She had a sharp eye and a no-nonsense attitude, the kind of teacher who didn't miss a thing. She quickly announced that she wanted each of us to introduce ourselves. My stomach dropped at the thought. I never liked these introductions; there wasn't much I could say about myself except my grades.

As the other students introduced themselves, I felt more and more out of place. They talked about their hobbies, their families, their travels-things I had no experience with. Finally, it was my turn. I stood up, trying to keep my voice steady even though my heart was pounding.

"My name is Yuri," I said quietly. "I'm a scholarship student, and I live about one and a half hours away from the college."

I could feel the eyes of the entire class on me, some of them filled with curiosity, others with something like pity. It made me uncomfortable. But then Miss Kumi spoke up, and for a moment, her voice cut through the tension I felt.

"Yuri has excellent grades," she said, her tone warm. "This is one of the best schools, and earning a scholarship here is no small feat. You should be proud of what you've accomplished."

I nodded, grateful for her words but still feeling out of place. I knew that without the scholarship, I would never have been able to set foot in this college. Being the only poor student in a school full of rich kids was hard enough, but I was determined not to let it define me. I had to keep pushing forward, no matter how out of place I felt.

As Yohan's turn came to introduce himself, he stood up. His voice was as calm as the sea, effortlessly commanding attention. He introduced himself, mentioning his grades, his role as the president of all extracurricular activities, and as the head boy of the college. His composure and confidence were evident, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as he spoke. He seemed to have everything-grades, leadership, respect. The kind of life I could only dream of.

Once the introductions were over, the teacher left the class, and a few students immediately gathered around my bench. They peppered me with questions, asking if I was from a village and how I managed to get to school. Their voices dripped with sympathy, as if they were trying to understand a life they'd never experienced. I could see it in their eyes-they had never faced any real hardship, and they couldn't comprehend mine. But I didn't need their pity.

"Leave me alone," I told them, trying to keep my voice steady. It's not like I wanted to be alone, but I wasn't going to let their sympathy break me. I just wanted to make friends, but as usual, I failed. My words turned their sympathy to disdain.

"What an arrogant bitch," one of them muttered.

"Look at her attitude, like she's some kind of queen. Hey, what does your father do?" another chimed in.

I ignored their questions as I always did, hoping they would lose interest. But instead, one of them suddenly grabbed my bag off my desk and tossed it to another. They began playing a cruel game of catch, laughing as my bag was thrown around the room. Panic and frustration built up inside me, but I remained silent, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.

Just as I was about to give up, Yohan stepped in. He caught my bag mid-air, his expression calm but firm. "Whose bag is this?" he asked, his voice cutting through the noise.

I quickly ran to him, grabbed my bag, and placed it back on my desk. My hands trembled as I sat down, trying to calm my racing heart. The classroom fell silent, all eyes on Yohan as he walked over to the teacher's desk. He carried some papers in his hands, probably something to do with his duties as president.

"Are you alright?" he asked me, his voice softer now.

I didn't want anyone's sympathy, especially not his. "Mind your business," I replied, keeping my gaze on my desk. He didn't say anything in return, just nodded slightly and walked away.

He placed the papers on the teacher's desk and then turned to the class, his voice suddenly authoritative. "Listen everyone, it's cheap and unacceptable to bully a student. Don't provoke me to report this to the principal. You know this college takes bullying very seriously. Am I clear?"

The room was dead silent. Yohan's voice left no room for argument. He then glanced at me, and our eyes met. His smile wasn't mocking; it was reassuring, almost as if to say, "Don't worry."

For a moment, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time-relief.