Lyon, Southwest France, Lycée du Parc, 6th arrondissement, March 25, 2030
Lyris was sitting still, almost stiff, on his seat. His hands were trembling slightly, his gaze seemed vacant, and his heart carried a sorrow he desperately tried to hide.
—That filthy piece of shit...
Behind him, mocking laughter and hostile glances. He felt the heavy stares of those around him, like shadows clinging to his skin. The teacher, though aware of the situation, chose to ignore the provocations and continued his lesson as if nothing were happening.
Lyris shivered with rage and hatred, but his frustrations remained locked inside, dying in a forced silence. Despite everything, at the end of the lesson, Lyris attempted to speak to the history teacher.
—Sir...
The teacher looked at him with indifference. He didn't even dare to meet Lyris' eyes.
—You again... You'll be an adult in a few years... You should handle your problems like one, Lyris. It's 2030, it's not like it used to be...
—But...
Lyris didn't have time to finish his sentence. The teacher immediately interrupted him. He finally met Lyris' gaze for a brief moment, during which Lyris sensed the contempt and guilt being placed on the victim themselves.
—I don't want to see you if it's just to talk about that.
—Yes, sir...
Lyris bit his lower lip in anger. A sharp pain in his chest brought him to tears, and then he returned to his seat. He opened his bag and pulled out a sheet of paper. A big manga reader, he had created a heroic character straight out of a shonen, and his teammate was based on his sister. To ignore the mockery, he imagined himself as a knight in his impossible dreams.
However, he vainly thought that in reality, he struggled to hide his wounds, both physical and emotional, from his own family.
End of class - 6:05 PM
Lyris finally thought about the end of his torment. This exhausting day was coming to a close. He slung his bag over his shoulder with a mechanical gesture and began the journey back to Vaulx-en-Velin.
Each step was heavy; he dragged his feet, weighed down by fatigue, unable to shake the feeling of being constantly watched. A sharp, throbbing pain in his chest continually reminded him of the eight years of suffering he'd endured.
He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and exhaled. When he arrived home, he saw his mother and older sister sitting at the kitchen table.
—Hey, little brother! How's the future only man of the house?
Lyris gave a tired smile and sat down to have dinner with them. A modest, close-knit family shared a meal in front of a lit television, as night gently fell over the city.