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Chapter 4

For three months Ien avoided Lentus.

The day after their talk at the cafeteria, Lentus knocked on the table of Ien at break and demanded that they clear up all misunderstanding. Ien drank up his whole bottle of water and excused himself to the bathroom.

The next day Lentus stood outside the classroom entrance waiting for Ien to come back in the morning. When Ien came into sight, Lentus once again demanded that they had a talk. Ien went into the classroom through the window.

The following day after school, Lentus attempted to pile up desks and chairs in front of the staircase like a stack of wood awaiting a fire spark. Despite Lentus's efforts, he was, alas, slow; Ien was fast. Ien had flung his rucksack onto his back, scurried across the corridor, and jumped down the stairs, four at a time. Ien ran so fast, he appeared blurry in Lentus's eyes; so swift, he made Lentus feel a breeze as he brushed past. Poor Lentus had no idea that Ien had left that he kept piling up the desks and chairs that, gradually, a long line of impatient students were tapping their feet and checking their watches behind Lentus.

Having lived twelve years as the king of brats, Lentus became accustomed to being given whatever it was that he needed without work. Those three months --- September, October, November --- were the only period of time in his life that he had worked slightly harder. By Christmas, he had already given up and resumed to tormenting other people, alongside with the Living Death.

The bell rang for Christmas break. Ien, still avoiding Lentus, practically flew down the stairs towards the gate. He was the first to reach the gates, even beating the security and gatemen to it. As usual.

"Who do we have here now?" a man --- he looked like a giant, for he was about 7ft tall --- came out of the Security Team House and commented, seeing Ien's sweaty face waiting anxiously in front of the iron gate. The letters on the name tag on the man's shirt spelled out "MR FAARA".

"Well well, ain't it Mister Ien himself! What'd me do to be granted with such a pleasure?" Mr Faara teased jokingly as he effortlessly pushed the gates open.

"Thanks, Mr Faara," Ien said, and nodded his head once.

"For the last time, Ien, yer 'n I're on first-name-basis, aren't me right, yes?" Mr Faara demanded and cocked an eyebrow, leaning against one of the gates.

"Yes, Rume!" Ien shouted, then giving Rume a small salute, shaking his head with laughter. He gave Rume Faara a wide grin before running back to the orphanage.

***

Back in his room, Ien took his Mathematics holiday homework out, set it on his desk and threw his rucksack into his bed. Opening to the assigned page, he read the first question: If x were to be the square root of 3, and y were to be the cube root of 4, what would z be?

Ien had completely forgotten the method to solving this complex question, but he remembered that he'd taken some notes on this particular question form --- it was somewhere in his rucksack. Heading to the bed, Ien froze.

There, on his bed, was a letter. On the letter were the words written in green ink:

Mr. Valiente Trich Complicado