Leuthold Preparatory | ✓

Chapter Eighteen: Part I

Downs

Minutes that felt longer than hours forced hours to pass by in moments. Noah had contained his panic but had hardly settled internally as much as he had externally. He felt he was vibrating uncontrollably, but his hands didn't shake when he put them to the windows and tried to pry the locks open.

"What room even is this?" Noah asked before he stopped when he heard Hannil make a low, guttural noise. When he turned back to him, Hannil was still on the ground, having sat down a few hours ago and was inspecting his hand, his back rested against the teacher's desk, he had one knee propped up, his other leg stuck into the aisle between the students' desks.

"Does it hurt?" Noah asked.

"I knocked a man unconscious," Hannil replied as he spread his fingers out as wide as he could. "Of course it hurts."

After swaying for a moment, Noah moved over to him and sat down with his back against one of the student's desk.

"I've never been in a fight before," Noah told him.

Hannil looked at him before he snickered and rested his elbow on his knee, his hand out of view of Noah. "I'm not surprised by that," he replied. "Your family doesn't strike me as the 'fighting' sort."

"Your family lives in a castle," Noah replied. "What kind of family that lives in a castle is the 'fighting sort'."

Hannil shrugged, "You'd be surprised. For me--a military family."

"Like Mi Na?"

"Are you asking me if I'm somehow in cahoots with the man I just knocked out?"

Noah shifted before he shook his head.

"My father and grandfather are honored and revered generals," Hannil explained softly as he flexed his hand again. "Worked their way through the ranks despite that our bloodline would be enough to get them the title behind a desk." He paused, "My mother's family is also military, of a different sort. My cousin and I often roughhouse."

"They didn't look that strict," Noah replied. "Aren't military families strict?"

"Mine isn't," Hannil replied, "My dad is far too laid back to ever do marching orders or the like. I said he was a general—he got kicked out a long time ago. My grandfather is too philosophical to restrain someone like that--he also got kicked out, if you were curious. Probably a pattern."

Noah laughed a bit and ducked his head.

The room fell quiet again and Noah noticed that Hannil was still balling his hand.

"When Berg said you were like your father—"

"I am not talking about it," Hannil cut him off. "Not to offend you, Squeak. I like you, I really do, but that was not one of my proudest moments."

Noah twisted his lips. "It just made it sound as though I was doing something that was bad for you."

"Berg is a bigot," Hannil replied bitterly. "I'm not sorry that I clocked him. If you truly don't mind, I'd like that to be the end of this conversation."

Noah leaned his head back against the desk and looked back out to the window.

"Do you think she'll make it?" He asked softly.

"Hanna?"

Noah looked back at him and nodded.

"Haven't the foggiest," Hannil shook his head softly. "I do hope so."