📖 Chapter 1: The Boy Who Didn’t Speak

“My Dream, My Life”

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The morning mist clung to the roofs of a small village as the sky turned pale with early light. A modest school building stood still among the silence, its windows fogged and forgotten. Inside, a dull classroom buzzed faintly with the chatter of students — voices that filled space but rarely made meaning.

At the very back of the room, in a seat near the window, sat a boy. He didn’t speak. He didn’t laugh. His pencil scratched quietly across paper while the rest of the class whispered and giggled in anticipation.

“Everyone,” the teacher said, clapping her hands once to grab attention, “we have a new student joining us today.”

Heads turned. All but one.

He remained motionless, eyes down — sketching a world far from this one.

His name was Leefan.

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The door opened with a creak. In stepped a boy with messy hair and a clumsy smile, dragging his bag like it weighed more than it should.

“I’m Jim,” he said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “I like video games... and talking to people!”

The class chuckled politely. Jim scanned the room, eyes bouncing from one curious face to the next — until they stopped at the boy in the back. That quiet shadow in human form.

"Why does he feel like a ghost that’s still breathing?" Jim wondered.

Leefan glanced up. Just for a second. Their eyes met — distant, unreadable — then he looked away, as if the connection had never happened.

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Lunchtime came, bringing warmth and laughter into clustered corners of the schoolyard. Friends traded snacks, stories, and insults with joy.

But under a tree away from it all, Leefan sat alone — eating silently, unmoved.

Jim approached without warning, plopping down beside him like they’d known each other for years.

“You don’t talk much, huh?” he said casually, unbothered by the silence.

Leefan said nothing.

“That’s okay,” Jim continued. “I talk enough for both of us anyway.”

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Over the next few minutes, Jim rambled. About math being his mortal enemy. About how curry was a god-tier food. About weird dreams and pet frogs. Finally, in the middle of a sentence, Leefan interrupted.

“...Same,” he murmured, barely audible.

Jim blinked. Then his face lit up.

“Victory!” he shouted. “You spoke. Now I’m your friend.”

“I didn’t agree to that,” Leefan muttered.

“Too bad,” Jim grinned. “Friendship’s a one-way trap.”

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Back in class, noise returned like a flood. The popular boy — the golden child — held court with his usual admirers. Girls swooned. Boys cheered him on. His laugh was loud and confident, the kind that could cover the sound of anyone else’s voice.

But Leefan didn’t care.

His head was down, sketching once more — worlds only he could see.

Jim watched both of them, his eyes drifting from the golden boy to the ghost in the corner.

“They chase noise,” he thought. “But he... he creates silence.”

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After school, the clouds finally broke. Rain poured from the heavens, sending students dashing through the gates.

Leefan walked alone, umbrella in hand.

Jim ran up to him — drenched, grinning like a soaked dog.

“Hey! Genius boy! Share the shade!”

Leefan hesitated. Then, wordlessly, tilted the umbrella sideways.

They walked together, silent but side by side.

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That night, Leefan sat at his desk, a book open but unread. Thunder echoed beyond his window, shaking the silence.

His eyes flicked to a photo on the table — his parents, smiling in a frame. Still. Frozen.

He closed the book, lay down, and stared at the ceiling.

“I didn’t ask for friends,” he thought. “I didn’t ask for feelings. But somehow… they’re finding me.”

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The next morning felt like déjà vu.

The teacher clapped her hands again. “Another new student will be joining us today.”

Whispers rippled across the classroom. The door creaked open.

A girl stepped inside — pale uniform, shy eyes, hands clasped nervously in front of her.

“Her name was Alisz,” Leefan thought.

“And I didn’t know it then… but she would change everything.”

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She was seated near him. Almost too near.

She glanced at Leefan once. He turned away.

From beside him, Jim whispered, “You’ve got fans now, buddy. Girls and me!”

Leefan sighed. “I already regret speaking to you.”

Jim leaned back, laughing. “Told you. One-way trap.”

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The sun spilled through the window, casting gold across Leefan’s desk.

He sat quietly — the boy no one noticed yesterday — now surrounded by people, energy, and possibility.

And yet…

“No one noticed me for years,” he thought. “And now, suddenly, the world is speaking to me.”

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🌟 To Be Continued…