The Future Remained Uncertain

When I opened my eyes again, it was Tuesday.

The match had been on Monday, so I had been unconscious for a whole day.

This place was the infirmary inside the orphanage. I, who was hospitalized.

The dull pain in my body served as a constant reminder of the toll my recent battle had taken on me. It was a harsh lesson in just how outmatched I had been. The defeat weighed heavily on my mind.

As I lay in the infirmary bed, I couldn't help but think about the children of the orphanage. I had promised them victory, and I had failed to deliver. The disappointment in their eyes haunted me.

I realized that I had grown attached to these children, even though I had tried to distance myself from the orphanage and its memories. Their resilience and hope had touched something within me, and I felt a strange sense of responsibility toward them.

But now, I was faced with the reality of my limitations. My health was fragile, and I couldn't protect them as I had hoped. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

I knew I couldn't change the past, but I was determined to make the most of the time I had left. If I could do something to ensure a better future for those children, I would find a way.

With a heavy sigh, I closed my eyes.

The side effects of using the mana drug began to manifest more prominently. It was a decision I had made in desperation during the match, and now I had to face the consequences.

First, there was the intense fatigue that washed over me like a relentless tide. It was as if all my energy had been drained, leaving me feeling utterly exhausted.

Then came the dizziness and nausea. My vision swayed, and a persistent feeling of nausea clawed at my stomach. I had to grip the edge of the infirmary bed to keep from retching.

But perhaps the most concerning side effect was the excruciating pain that radiated from my head. It felt like my brain was being torn apart from the inside. The pain was so intense that I couldn't help but let out groans of agony.

I knew that using the mana drug came with risks, but in my desperation to win, I had pushed myself to the limit. Now, I had to endure the consequences of my actions.

As I lay there, suffering through the side effects, I couldn't help but wonder if it had all been worth it. The victory had eluded me, and I was left with nothing but pain and regret.

"I shouldn't use this unless necessary."

I felt it almost instinctively.

If I use it more than twice a week, I will die...

I fell asleep again.

***

The next day, as I emerged from my slumber and ventured into the corridor, I was met with a surprising sight. The dormitory of the youth section of the orphanage had transformed into a lively party venue.

Confusion swirled within me as I tried to make sense of the situation. Was this some sort of closing party, akin to the clearance sale of a bankrupt store? However, the atmosphere was different; it was filled with smiles and a sense of jubilation.

"Hey, Kevin!"

Sonu's voice called out to me, drawing my attention. All eyes in the lobby turned in my direction, and I couldn't help but feel like the centre of attention.

"What's all this about?" I asked, genuinely perplexed by the festivities.

Sonu's grin widened, and he explained, "We're celebrating because we're moving the orphanage to the countryside."

"Countryside?" My eyes widened in surprise.

"Yeah. It's not a complete shutdown," Sonu continued. "Only the younger kids, around 9 or 10 years old, will be moving. The rest of us will continue to live independently."

The news left me stunned. Moving to the countryside? It was a development I hadn't anticipated, and I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions – surprise, confusion, and even a hint of relief.

The news was a stark departure from the future I knew, where the orphanage was completely shut down, and the children were scattered across the continent.

"But it seems like the scale will be much smaller now, thanks to you," Sonu added.

The other youths joined the conversation, their expressions a mix of awkwardness and gratitude. They approached me tentatively, their actions conveying goodwill and regret.

Sonu couldn't contain his admiration as he spoke, "You were amazing out there. You were so fast; it almost felt like you won, considering your opponent."

I couldn't help but feel puzzled by their gratitude. I asked, "When was this decided?"

Roan, who had silently approached, answered, "This morning, at the Aurilia headquarters. The kids will be leaving on a bus that arrives at lunchtime, and we'll stay here until the orphanage is dismantled."

I continued to grapple with the unexpected turn of events, trying to understand why they were thanking me.

"But why is this thanks to me?" I inquired.

Roan's reply caught me off guard, "The youngest one, Lady Sia herself mentioned you. She said she was impressed by your fighting spirit."

Sia? My mouth fell open in astonishment. The Sia I knew was nothing like this. She was known for her cruelty, ruthlessness, and cunning. Her motives behind this sudden change remained a mystery.

"Surprised, huh?" Roan chuckled and patted my shoulder. "I did tell you, that if you work hard, you'll be rewarded. Now, where's your luggage? We need to get going."

I nodded to Roan's question about my luggage. There was nothing to pack, nothing to take with me. I had been living a minimalistic life in the orphanage, and now, it seemed like an even simpler future awaited me.

As we prepared to leave, the other youth section residents gathered around. There was a sense of camaraderie, an unspoken understanding that we were all in this together, facing an uncertain future. We might be going our separate ways, but the bonds we had formed here would always remain.

Sonu clapped me on the back, his smile reflecting the relief in the room. "You really surprised us, Kevin. That fight yesterday, it was like you won. Lady Sia mentioned you, you know? Impressed by your fighting spirit."

The mention of Sia's name sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn't quite grasp her intentions. Sia had always been enigmatic, and her involvement in this sudden change left me with more questions than answers.

As we made our way out of the orphanage, I couldn't help but look back one last time. It was the end of one chapter and the beginning of another. The future remained uncertain, but at least it held the promise of a fresh start.