The raw, emotional vulnerability of the presentation left the classroom in a stunned silence. For a brief moment, the "Ice King" and his "Prisoner" had vanished, replaced by two young men struggling with a heavy reality. But for Zen, the display of intimacy was a call to arms. He didn't see "rehab" or "humanity"; he saw a rival who was using psychological tactics to keep a grip on a boy who deserved better.
After class, the students headed toward the physical education complex. As Arm and Mild walked toward the exit, Zen stepped out from the shadow of the archery pavilion, his bow already in hand.
"That was quite a performance, Armitage," Zen said, his voice cutting through the chatter of the hallway. "Very poetic. But we both know words are easy for someone who owns the printing press."
Arm stopped, his eyes narrowing. "You're still here, Zen? I thought I made myself clear."
