CHAPTER 21 : WISHPERS AND STARES
The lights in the Bike show room buzzed softly above them.
Rows of shiny metal frames and polished rubber tires lined the walls, reflecting the bright white glare. The air smelled of clean oil and new plastic—normal, safe, painfully ordinary after what had just happened.
Rayan stood still for a moment, hands in his pockets, as if the world hadn’t turned upside down an hour before.
Beside him, Bunty—Bear—couldn’t keep still. His shoulders were stiff, his eyes darting toward the street again and again.
“Ray…” Bear’s voice was low, tight. “Are you sure we should be here?”
Rayan glanced at him. “We said we’d buy a bike.”
“That was before—” Bear swallowed. “Before you broke George Yung’s arm.”
Rayan didn’t correct him. He didn’t deny it.
The shopkeeper walked over, wiping his greasy fingers on a cloth. He had a polite smile. “Looking for a motorcycle, boys?”
“Yes,” Rayan said. “For family. Reliable. Good mileage.”
“Budget?”
“Sixteen hundred dollars.”
Bear blinked hard. “You’re really spending it all?”
“Money’s meant to be used,” Rayan said quietly.
The shopkeeper showed them a few models, but Rayan’s eyes stopped on a black-and-silver Honda. Simple. Strong. No show, just purpose.
Bear whispered, “It looks solid.”
Rayan nodded. “This one.”
The price is roughly $1500 dollors.
The paperwork was quick. Cash changed hands. Keys were placed on the counter.
When Rayan picked them up, Bear felt a cold shiver. This wasn’t a boy’s excitement. This was something planned. Something calm and scary.
Outside, Bear hesitated before climbing on behind him. He held the seat, not Rayan’s shoulders. “Is this okay? After… what you did?”
Rayan started the bike. The engine’s growl filled the silence. “It’s done,” he said over the sound. “No point worrying now.”
They rode without speaking. The city lights blurred past. Bear’s mind raced faster than the bike.
At his street, Rayan stopped smoothly.
Bear got off slowly. He stood there, struggling. “Ray… you know who his family is.”
“Yes.”
“They don’t forget. They don’t lose.” Bear’s voice shook. “Ashford High… it’s theirs.”
Rayan looked at him. His eyes were calm. Still. “I know.”
That calm made Bear’s stomach twist.
“Just… be careful,” Bear mumbled.
Rayan nodded once and rode away.
He parked the new bike neatly in front of his house, half-hidden in the dim light.
Inside, the smell of home wrapped around him—rice, curry, safety. It almost hurt.
Sophie noticed first. The raw scrape on his knuckles. “Rayan?” Her voice was light, but her eyes were sharp. “What happened?”
John looked up.
Rayan inhaled slowly.
If they were going to know, it would be from him.
Rayan sat down. “I got into a fight.”
The air in the kitchen went still.
Sophie froze. “A fight?”
John’s voice was low. “Explain.”
And Rayan did. Words dropped like stones into still water.
“There were eight of them. They surrounded me and Bear.”
Sophie’s face lost all color. “Eight?”
“One of them… said things about you,” Rayan said, looking at his parents. “About our family. Things that can’t be taken back.”
Silence pressed down hard.
Sophie’s eyes glistened. “What did you do?”
Rayan looked at his hands. “I lost control.”
Four words. Heavy and dark.
“I broke his hand.”
Sophie’s spoon clattered onto her plate.
John stood up fast, his chair scraping loudly. “Broke it?”
“A clean break. In his forearm.”
No pride. No apology. Just fact.
Sophie covered her mouth. Selene’s tears fell quietly.
“Ray, why? Why did you do it? When did you become like this?” Selene’s voice broke.
“Because he wouldn’t STOP!” Rayan’s shout cut through the room, sharp and sudden.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Then silence again, thicker than before.
John ran a hand over his face, breathing hard. “Who was it?”
Rayan paused. Then let the name go. “George Yung.”
The name hit them like a punch.
Sophie sank back into her chair. Sophie went pale.
John’s face changed—not anger, but a deep, weary fear. “The Yung family? That Yung family?”
Rayan nodded.
“They own half this city,” Sophie whispered, her voice thin. “They… they are the sponsors to your school.”
The truth settled over the table. Heavy. Suffocating.
This wasn’t just a fight. This was an earthquake.
Sophie stared at Rayan, her eyes wide with fear. “You broke their son’s hand?”
Rayan looked up. “Yes.”
John closed his eyes. For a second, he looked lost. Defeated.
“They won’t let this go,” John said quietly. “They won’t come themselves. They don’t need to.”
Sophie trembled. “Your school… your future…”
“They’ll ruin you,” she whispered.
Rayan just listened. Calm. Steady. “I know.”
His calm scared them more than anything.
John cleared his throat, rough with emotion. “The bicycle theft… that was him too, wasn’t it?”
No more hiding. “Yes He did stole. Actually…… he destroyed it..”
Understanding washed over John’s face—painful and clear. The bullying. The pressure. It all made sense now.
Sophie’s hands clenched. “They’ve been hurting you all this time…”
Rayan nodded once.
The room felt small. Tight.
John leaned forward, his voice awkward, pleading. “I’ll come to school tomorrow. I’ll talk to them. We’ll… we’ll apologize. We’ll do what they want. Your finals—”
Rayan shook his head gently. “No, Dad. I’ll tell you if they ask for you.”
“Rayan—”
“Please.” His voice was firm, final. “Let me handle this.”
Sophie’s fear burst out. “Handle it? They can destroy your life with one phone call!”
Rayan met her eyes. “I know.”
John stared at his son—this stranger of quiet strength—and something in him yielded. He sagged.
“…Okay.”
“Okay?” Sophie’s voice was disbelief.
“It means,” John said heavily, “we trust him. Until he asks for help.”
Rayan stood. “Good night.”
He left them there, surrounded by the silence he left behind.
From his dark room,We know that rayan’s focus is max human limit he can hear clearly what his family talking, fearful words.
“This is what we were afraid of,” Sophie whispered, her voice trembling. “This… path.”
John was silent.
Path? Rayan turned the word over in his mind. What path?
He pushed the thought away. Tonight, he needed to think. To plan.
‘Nira’, he called the name out loud enough to echo on his room.
Next Day,
4:30 AM. Dark and cold.
Rayan’s body ached everywhere—his ribs, his arms, his legs. He welcomed the pain. He tied his old shoes and slipped outside to run.
The cold air burned his lungs. His muscles screamed. His vision blurred with effort, but he pushed harder.
He ran until a soft notification appeared in his mind.
[+1 Cognition Point. Total CP: 1]
Ten. He needed ten. Finals were in six days.
By 6 AM, he stumbled back inside, drenched in sweat, his body shaking with exhaustion. He didn’t train further—the run was enough. He stood in the hallway, breathing hard, empty.
His parents found him there.
“Where were you?” Sophie asked softly, her worry clear.
“Running,” he breathed out, too tired to say more.
They shared a look—a silent conversation of fear—but said nothing.
After a hot shower, Rayan walked into the kitchen for breakfast. The tension from last night still hung in the air.
Sophie glanced out the window. “John… there’s a new motorcycle outside.”
John looked. The Honda stood shining in the morning sun.
Rayan stepped forward. He took the keys from his pocket and placed them in his father’s hand.
John stared at them, stunned. “Rayan? What is this?”
“It’s ours,” Rayan said quietly.
Shock. Then confusion. “How? When?”
“We’ll talk about the money tonight,” Rayan promised. “But it’s ours. For the family.”
John’s hand closed around the keys. He looked from the keys to Rayan, overwhelmed.
At the table, Rayan looked at his father. “You should take it, Dad. For work.”
John shook his head quickly, firmly. “No. You bought it. You use it.”
“But it’s for the family,” Rayan said.
“And you’re part of the family too,” John replied, his voice gentle but final. “You take it. You need it more. You don’t have bicycle also”
Rayan understood. His father wouldn’t accept it. Not now.
He nodded quietly and didn’t push.
Then he said to his dad, ”Then I’ll take Lyra to school.”
John gave a nod.
Then he looked at Lyra, who was watching with wide, curious eyes. “I’ll drop you to school,” he told her. “On the bike.”
Lyra’s face lit up like sunshine. “Really?!”
Her joy was a bright, sudden spark in the heavy room. For a moment, the fear lifted.
Sophie managed a small smile. John’s shoulders relaxed just a little.
As Rayan stood to leave, John touched his arm. His eyes were serious, filled with a father’s worry. “ You don’t have to carry this alone. Don’t hesitate to call me. If you can’t handle.”
Rayan nodded. “I will.”
Lyra hugged him tightly, innocent of the storm around them.
At the school gate, the guard Hodges started to say, “Good morn—” seeing a guy on bike then stopped. His smile faded.
Rayan went past him without a word.
He parked the bike and started walking toward his classroom. As he stepped into the hallway, he slowed.
Selene was already there, waiting. Her face was pale, worry clearly written across it.
“The rumors…” she began softly. “Are they true?”
“Yes,” Rayan said simply.
Her fingers tightened around her bag strap. “All of it?”
He met her eyes. Didn’t dodge. Didn’t soften it. “Eight of them. Me and Bear.”
“And George?” she asked, voice barely above a breath.
Rayan’s jaw set. “He crossed a line.”
Selene swallowed. “They’re saying you—” She stopped herself. “They’re saying you broke his hand.”
“I did.”
The word landed heavy.
Selene closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, fear wasn’t the only thing there. There was something else—shock, yes, but also understanding. “Rayan… the Yung family—”
“I know who they are,” he cut in, calm but sharp. “I knew before yesterday.”
“They control the school,” she said quickly. “From behind. Sponsors. Donations. Influence. If they want—”
“They’ll come for me,” Rayan finished.
A pause.
Selene searched his face, like she was looking for cracks. “Then why are you so… calm?”
Rayan looked away, toward the school building, where whispers were already spreading through the corridors. “Because panic doesn’t help. And because running won’t change anything.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she said. “I’m not telling you to run. I’m saying—be careful.”
He nodded once. “I am.”
She hesitated. “People are scared of you.”
A faint, humorless smirk touched his lips. “Good.”
Selene frowned. “That’s not—”
“I didn’t choose this,” he said quietly. “But I won’t pretend it didn’t happen either.”
Selene stepped closer, close enough that the noise of the corridor dulled, her voice lowering—not out of fear, but intent.
“Whatever happens next,” she said softly, eyes steady on his, “you’re not facing it alone. Not today. Not after this.”
Rayan turned fully toward her.
Really looked.
There was no flinch in her expression. No fear. She knew what he’d done—knew the violence, the consequence—and still stood there, choosing him anyway.
“I know,” he said quietly after a pause. “And that… matters more than you think.”
For a second, neither of them moved.
Her fingers brushed his sleeve—not grabbing, not stopping him. Just a touch. Grounding. A promise without words.
“I’m here, Rayan,” she said. “No matter how ugly it gets.”
Something in his chest shifted—subtle, dangerous, real.
He gave her the faintest smile. Not the one he wore for the world. This one was just for her.
“Thanks,” he said.
Then the moment broke—footsteps, authority, reality closing in.
But the warmth of her presence stayed with him as he turned and walked forward, carrying it like a quiet shield.
They started going towards class.
Footsteps echoed nearby. Voices dropped when they noticed him.
‘Eight members….’
‘Yes, yes a bone…’
‘He’s not human…’
‘Monster…’
He walked through the halls, pale and tired, a ghost among them. His exhaustion was plain to see.
Selene walked closer, her voice a quiet shield. “Ignore them.”
He nodded. But the word 'monster' hung on his mind. A faint, cold smile touched his lips.
In the classroom, Bear was waiting, tense. Before he could speak—
“Rayan.”
A staff member stood at the door, face serious.
“The principal wants to see you. Now.”
The room went completely silent.
Bear’s hands balled into fists. Selene’s breath caught.
“You’re not alone,” Bear whispered fiercely.
“Be careful,” Selene whispered.
Rayan straightened, calm settling back into place like armor.
Gave a nod to them
Rayan stood up.
Calm. Steady.
He walked out, leaving a thick, fearful silence behind him.
And then he walked toward the office—through whispers, stares, and the beginning of consequences.
End of chapter 21.
