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Chapter 1: I Just Want Peace

I never asked for much in life. Just peace, fast Wi-Fi, and maybe a small harem of girls who find me mysteriously attractive despite my complete lack of effort. You know—realistic stuff. My name’s David. Final year of high school. Professionally average. Spiritually exhausted. Socially… we don’t talk about that. I like computers, anime, and pretending I’m more mature than I actually am. My ambitions are unclear, my grades are okay, and my confidence is held together with chewing gum and prayer. My dream in life? Honestly? I just want peace. But life? Life wants content. It’s morning. I’m mid-dream—something about being the protagonist of a fantasy anime, standing atop a mountain surrounded by warrior waifus—when: WHAM! Jude smacks me awake. “Bro! Class has started!” I jolt upright, wiping drool off my cheek like it’s totally normal to sleep through Math class. And then, she walks in. The Math teacher. Elegant. Intimidating. Red lipstick. Benz keys dangling from her fingers like she’s about to declare war on our GPA. She teaches like she’s delivering a TED Talk. Even the chalk listens to her. The boys sit straighter and look like they’ve seen a K-drama lead in real life. I just try not to blink too loud. We survive the school day: Chemistry trauma, Physics pain, and Jude’s ongoing theory that he’s a genius cursed with chronic laziness. Then comes tuition. Now, unlike our all-boys school, tuition is a co-ed jungle. Hormones, gossip, and test prep collide like overlapping anime arcs. --- We arrive. There are the couples, acting like they’re in a teenage rom-com. The nerds, solving quantum equations on their sleeves. And then there’s us—the backbenchers. Let me clarify. We’re not dumb. We’re just loud. And chaotic. But smart. Like, if Einstein and a meme page had kids—that’s us. We once submitted a physics paper entirely in rhyme. Got an A. The teacher also cried. Today, we fall into routine: Jude’s making terrible puns, Tash is hacking the school Wi-Fi, and I’m zoning out while pretending to revise. Then—her. Ruth. No, I don’t like her. She’s not my crush. She’s not even my type. She’s just… the only girl I talk to. Because I, David, am a certified coward when it comes to girls. Ruth knows my older brother. That’s the only reason she ever started talking to me. But somehow, we click. In an enemies-to-tolerable-friends kind of way. “Oi. Nerd boy,” she says, dropping into the seat beside me. “You still owe me a soda.” “You still owe me peace.” “You’ll get it. In the afterlife.” We bicker. It’s weirdly comforting. Then the intercom crackles to life: “Attention students: Religious Education 2046 is cancelled. All students who are not taking RE 2046 may take a break until the final class.” Jude shoots up. “yessir ! Guys ” Tash is already halfway out the door. “Snacks? Drinks? Emotional recovery?” I grab my bag. We all file out, a half-organized stampede of freedom. That’s when I notice—Ruth’s walking with us. Just… quietly. Like she belongs. Like she’s always been part of the crew. She falls into step beside me. “You skipping RE2044 too?” I ask. She nods. “Didn’t pick it. Not in the mood to be spiritually evaluated.” “Respect. Want a drink?” She raises a brow. “Is that your idea of flirting?” “No. This is my idea of liquid survival.” She smirks. “Lead the way.” We walk. The boys are up ahead—Jude and Tash arguing about whether Sprite or Fanta is more philosophically refreshing. Ryan’s filming them for proof of insanity. Ruth and I trail behind. The sun’s started to dip, casting everything in a soft orange hue. That golden-hour kind of calm. A brief window of peace before life does something chaotic. “So,” she says, “this what academic freedom tastes like?” “It tastes like orange soda, dust, and regret.” She laughs. “Delicious.” And for a moment, I feel... peaceful. Of course, peace never lasts. Because as we finish our drinks and start heading back toward the block for the last class... I feel it. That weird sensation. Like we’re being watched. I glance around. Left. Right. Behind. Then they appear. The boys. Jude. Tash. Even Ryan. All of them. Grinning. Lurking. Too quiet. Too still. Trap vibes: confirmed. Ruth notices. “Why do your friends look like cult members?” “We’re probably about to die.” We’re surrounded. The circle tightens. Jude steps forward. “BROOOOO.” “No,” I say, backing up. “YES,” he insists. “Today’s the day. You and Ruth. Seal it. Kiss.” Ruth blinks. “Kiss? Him?” “Exactly,” I mutter, already trying to vanish. Too late. They start chanting. “KISS! KISS! KISS!” We try to move—blocked. Someone starts playing wedding music on a speaker. “I NOW PRONOUNCE YOU—” “NO!” I yell. Phones are out. Cameras rolling. Someone’s livestreaming. Great. I grab Ruth’s wrist. “We need to run.” “Where?” “Anywhere!” We try to bolt—Jude jumps in front. “WAIT—ONE SELFIE FIRST—” It’s chaos. “David,” Ruth says quietly. “They’re not letting us go.” I nod. “This is insane.” “They’re insane.” “What do we do?” She sighs. Then—steps forward. I expect her to scream, punch someone, or summon lightning. Instead— She grabs me. And plants a kiss. A peck. Right on the cheek. Short. Soft. Confusing. The crowd gasps. Phones freeze. A bird actually drops mid-air like what the heck just happened? And then— “BOOOO!” someone shouts. “That wasn’t even a real kiss!” “DO IT PROPERLY!” “KISS 2.0!” The circle tightens again. Even Ruth looks mildly surprised. “Why aren’t they satisfied?” “I think you triggered their second phase.” “This is why I don’t join group projects,” she mutters. Then I realize something. This isn’t fair. She kissed me—on the cheek—in front of the entire drama club disguised as my friend group. And now I’m the one left blinking like a confused NPC. So I take a breath. Look her dead in the eye. “You know,” I say, straightening up, “if you’re going to tease me with a fake kiss, it’s only fair I return the favor.” Her eyes narrow. “Don’t even think about it, David.” “Oh, I’m thinking about it.” I take a step forward. She backs up. I smirk. “This is payback.” “David—” I lean in dramatically, aiming for her cheek like I’m in a K-drama season finale. But Ruth? She slips. Literally. One foot trips on a rogue bottle cap, balance gone, gravity activated. I reach to steady her. Too late. Our faces collide. Lips. Not cheeks. Lips. Soft. Accidental. Silence. The crowd? Dead quiet. A car alarm goes off in the distance like the universe is panicking with us. My brain: Error 404: Peace Not Found. Ruth blinks up at me, stunned. I blink back, also stunned. No one says a word. Then Jude, bless his soul, breaks the silence with: “BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—” I think I ascend. Ruth shoves me off with a flushed face. “YOU—YOU—” “That wasn’t part of the plan,” I stammer. “You had a plan?!” Phones are still recording. Someone’s already editing this into a fan edit, probably with emotional piano music. We stand there, blinking, red-faced, surrounded by idiots. So I do the only logical thing. “I JUST WANT PEACE!” I scream at the sky. And somewhere in the heavens, I swear life smirks and whispers: “Nah, this is getting good.”

Chapter 1: I Just Want Peace

Chapter 1: I Just Want Peace

I never asked for much in life. Just peace, fast Wi-Fi, and maybe a small harem of girls who find me mysteriously attractive despite my complete lack of effort. You know—realistic stuff. My name’s David. Final year of high school. Professionally average. Spiritually exhausted. Socially… we don’t talk about that. I like computers, anime, and pretending I’m more mature than I actually am. My ambitions are unclear, my grades are okay, and my confidence is held together with chewing gum and prayer. My dream in life? Honestly? I just want peace. But life? Life wants content. It’s morning. I’m mid-dream—something about being the protagonist of a fantasy anime, standing atop a mountain surrounded by warrior waifus—when: WHAM! Jude smacks me awake. “Bro! Class has started!” I jolt upright, wiping drool off my cheek like it’s totally normal to sleep through Math class. And then, she walks in. The Math teacher. Elegant. Intimidating. Red lipstick. Benz keys dangling from her fingers like she’s about to declare war on our GPA. She teaches like she’s delivering a TED Talk. Even the chalk listens to her. The boys sit straighter and look like they’ve seen a K-drama lead in real life. I just try not to blink too loud. We survive the school day: Chemistry trauma, Physics pain, and Jude’s ongoing theory that he’s a genius cursed with chronic laziness. Then comes tuition. Now, unlike our all-boys school, tuition is a co-ed jungle. Hormones, gossip, and test prep collide like overlapping anime arcs. --- We arrive. There are the couples, acting like they’re in a teenage rom-com. The nerds, solving quantum equations on their sleeves. And then there’s us—the backbenchers. Let me clarify. We’re not dumb. We’re just loud. And chaotic. But smart. Like, if Einstein and a meme page had kids—that’s us. We once submitted a physics paper entirely in rhyme. Got an A. The teacher also cried. Today, we fall into routine: Jude’s making terrible puns, Tash is hacking the school Wi-Fi, and I’m zoning out while pretending to revise. Then—her. Ruth. No, I don’t like her. She’s not my crush. She’s not even my type. She’s just… the only girl I talk to. Because I, David, am a certified coward when it comes to girls. Ruth knows my older brother. That’s the only reason she ever started talking to me. But somehow, we click. In an enemies-to-tolerable-friends kind of way. “Oi. Nerd boy,” she says, dropping into the seat beside me. “You still owe me a soda.” “You still owe me peace.” “You’ll get it. In the afterlife.” We bicker. It’s weirdly comforting. Then the intercom crackles to life: “Attention students: Religious Education 2046 is cancelled. All students who are not taking RE 2046 may take a break until the final class.” Jude shoots up. “yessir ! Guys ” Tash is already halfway out the door. “Snacks? Drinks? Emotional recovery?” I grab my bag. We all file out, a half-organized stampede of freedom. That’s when I notice—Ruth’s walking with us. Just… quietly. Like she belongs. Like she’s always been part of the crew. She falls into step beside me. “You skipping RE2044 too?” I ask. She nods. “Didn’t pick it. Not in the mood to be spiritually evaluated.” “Respect. Want a drink?” She raises a brow. “Is that your idea of flirting?” “No. This is my idea of liquid survival.” She smirks. “Lead the way.” We walk. The boys are up ahead—Jude and Tash arguing about whether Sprite or Fanta is more philosophically refreshing. Ryan’s filming them for proof of insanity. Ruth and I trail behind. The sun’s started to dip, casting everything in a soft orange hue. That golden-hour kind of calm. A brief window of peace before life does something chaotic. “So,” she says, “this what academic freedom tastes like?” “It tastes like orange soda, dust, and regret.” She laughs. “Delicious.” And for a moment, I feel... peaceful. Of course, peace never lasts. Because as we finish our drinks and start heading back toward the block for the last class... I feel it. That weird sensation. Like we’re being watched. I glance around. Left. Right. Behind. Then they appear. The boys. Jude. Tash. Even Ryan. All of them. Grinning. Lurking. Too quiet. Too still. Trap vibes: confirmed. Ruth notices. “Why do your friends look like cult members?” “We’re probably about to die.” We’re surrounded. The circle tightens. Jude steps forward. “BROOOOO.” “No,” I say, backing up. “YES,” he insists. “Today’s the day. You and Ruth. Seal it. Kiss.” Ruth blinks. “Kiss? Him?” “Exactly,” I mutter, already trying to vanish. Too late. They start chanting. “KISS! KISS! KISS!” We try to move—blocked. Someone starts playing wedding music on a speaker. “I NOW PRONOUNCE YOU—” “NO!” I yell. Phones are out. Cameras rolling. Someone’s livestreaming. Great. I grab Ruth’s wrist. “We need to run.” “Where?” “Anywhere!” We try to bolt—Jude jumps in front. “WAIT—ONE SELFIE FIRST—” It’s chaos. “David,” Ruth says quietly. “They’re not letting us go.” I nod. “This is insane.” “They’re insane.” “What do we do?” She sighs. Then—steps forward. I expect her to scream, punch someone, or summon lightning. Instead— She grabs me. And plants a kiss. A peck. Right on the cheek. Short. Soft. Confusing. The crowd gasps. Phones freeze. A bird actually drops mid-air like what the heck just happened? And then— “BOOOO!” someone shouts. “That wasn’t even a real kiss!” “DO IT PROPERLY!” “KISS 2.0!” The circle tightens again. Even Ruth looks mildly surprised. “Why aren’t they satisfied?” “I think you triggered their second phase.” “This is why I don’t join group projects,” she mutters. Then I realize something. This isn’t fair. She kissed me—on the cheek—in front of the entire drama club disguised as my friend group. And now I’m the one left blinking like a confused NPC. So I take a breath. Look her dead in the eye. “You know,” I say, straightening up, “if you’re going to tease me with a fake kiss, it’s only fair I return the favor.” Her eyes narrow. “Don’t even think about it, David.” “Oh, I’m thinking about it.” I take a step forward. She backs up. I smirk. “This is payback.” “David—” I lean in dramatically, aiming for her cheek like I’m in a K-drama season finale. But Ruth? She slips. Literally. One foot trips on a rogue bottle cap, balance gone, gravity activated. I reach to steady her. Too late. Our faces collide. Lips. Not cheeks. Lips. Soft. Accidental. Silence. The crowd? Dead quiet. A car alarm goes off in the distance like the universe is panicking with us. My brain: Error 404: Peace Not Found. Ruth blinks up at me, stunned. I blink back, also stunned. No one says a word. Then Jude, bless his soul, breaks the silence with: “BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—” I think I ascend. Ruth shoves me off with a flushed face. “YOU—YOU—” “That wasn’t part of the plan,” I stammer. “You had a plan?!” Phones are still recording. Someone’s already editing this into a fan edit, probably with emotional piano music. We stand there, blinking, red-faced, surrounded by idiots. So I do the only logical thing. “I JUST WANT PEACE!” I scream at the sky. And somewhere in the heavens, I swear life smirks and whispers: “Nah, this is getting good.”

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