The Ones Who Fly the Highest

The morning in Dharan wasn't just cold — it was unusually silent.

The sky wore a dull grey, like a canvas that refused to be painted. As Seyon walked alongside Usu on the way to her school, neither said much. There were no jokes, no teasing, just the soft pattering of their footsteps on the wet roadside.

When they reached the school gate, she turned with a half-smile. “Good luck,” she said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

He nodded. “You too, commander.”

She chuckled and walked in.

Seyon adjusted the collar of his uniform and headed toward the senior block. His footsteps felt heavier today, not because of exhaustion, but because of what he had planned.

By the time he reached his classroom, students were already murmuring about yesterday. Rumors had grown twisted overnight — some said he was a genius, others called him a psycho. But Seyon walked in, blank-faced, emotionless. If they wanted to call him names, let them. He was far beyond their reach now.

And then, he entered.

Prithvi Singh. A senior, older than him. Known for using brute force, manipulation, and money to control the weaker students — and worse, he never got caught.

Seyon watched him from the corner of his eye.

The next class was Physics. As the teacher explained Newton’s laws, Seyon’s brain was calculating something else entirely.

He dropped his pen. “Sir, I have a question.”

“Yes, Seyon?”

He stood. “If a heavier body collides with a smaller one, it creates a strong reaction. But what if the smaller one calculates the trajectory and sidesteps before impact?”

The class went silent.

The teacher blinked. “That’s… smart.”

Prithvi rolled his eyes. “We’re not playing dodgeball here.”

The class laughed, but Seyon’s eyes remained locked on him.

Seyon smiled, but his thoughts were sharp:

"I don’t need fists. I need patterns. Biological weaknesses, emotional triggers, academic pressure points. Humans are just complicated circuits. And I’m holding the wire cutter."

By lunch, the plan was set. He whispered a few things to a junior — a message would be delivered to Prithvi’s crush, publicly. He replaced Prithvi’s class presentation slides with a video of him cheating during a test. And during sports period, he offered the coach a “tip” about steroid use.

By 3:00 PM, Prithvi’s world was already crumbling.

Seyon didn’t even touch him — yet he was falling.

He stood by the window, watching the sun break through the grey clouds.

And that’s when the thought hit him. The truth.

He whispered under his breath.

“Girls are like honey bees. They don’t chase love. They chase altitude. They only mate with the ones who fly the highest… And I’m still climbing.”

He didn’t say it out of pride. He said it like a scientist stating a law.

After school ended, Seyon walked back, ignoring the stares, the murmurs, the whispers. He returned to his dorm, closed the curtains, and opened his hidden file folder. His private account. The place where he recorded everything — the game he was playing.

He opened a blank document.

Log Entry #02 – Pawn Down

“He fell without me raising a hand. It’s easy when you learn where the pressure points are — socially, biologically, mentally.

I don’t hate the system. I’m redesigning it.

This is only the beginning.”

He closed the file.

Just as he leaned back, his phone buzzed.

Usu: “Seyon! Dinner’s ready!”

He smirked. For the first time that day, he allowed himself a genuine smile.

“What a coincidence…” he said aloud, standing up. “Can you cook too?”

He walked to the kitchen, where Usu had prepared a simple meal. Rice, dal, and some mixed curry. Nothing special — but it smelled like home.

She looked at him. “I’m not a professional chef, okay?”