Oh, I'm so loving this weather!
The sky is filled with black, humongous clouds. Powerful waves of wind sweep through, bringing shallow drops of rain.
It's the best day to claim the window seat in the class.
From here, I can observe the whole campus of the orphanage. I adore sitting here—it's as if this seat is now my permanent address in the class.
And it's really not a bad location either—a corner table, not in front, not way in the back, just one row off the exact center.
Ideal for someone like me, who doesn't particularly like chatting to the rest of the kids in class.
They simply tend to mess around with rubbish ideas and silly fantasies.
Perhaps one of the things that I don't fit in with is that they don't view me as one of them—I am different.
They ridicule my blue eyes and long hair. They tell me that I resemble a girl.
And yeah, I can't really help it—sometimes I do look like a girl.
But I enjoy my long hair!
So I won't cut it.
And my blue eyes—they are me.
They're where my name comes from—Sapphire.
They are my identity.
As Sapphire sat quietly at his desk, the wind curled in through the open windows, brushing against his hair like invisible fingers. The sky outside was a heavy sheet of grey, the kind that promised rain any second now. He liked this weather. It calmed him. While the rest of the class ran wild—playing tag, drawing nonsense on the blackboard, swapping snacks at the back—Sapphire stared out the window, lost in his thoughts.
Then, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the hallway.
The classroom stilled.
Chairs squeaked as the kids scrambled to their seats. Voices dropped to whispers and then silence.
Mrs. Beck stepped in, her heels clicking softly against the floor. She looked around, nodded, and set her leather bag on the desk.
"Good morning, class," she said, pulling out the attendance register.
"Good morning, ma'am," came the chorus.
She opened the register and began calling names.
"Amber."
"Present, ma'am."
"Brian."
"Present."
"Christ."
"Here."
The list went on, and Sapphire continued to watch the rain begin to tap gently against the windowpane. The room smelled like wet soil and chalk.
"Iris."
"Present, ma'am."
"Jade."
Silence.
"Jade?"
Still no response.
Mrs. Beck sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Oh, not again…"
"Sapphire."
"Ah—yes, ma'am." He blinked and sat up straight, snapping out of his daze.
She gave him a pointed look. "Do you know where your brother is?"
Sapphire shook his head. "No, ma'am."
She narrowed her eyes. "Don't lie, kid. You always know. Go find him."
Her tone left no room for argument.
Sapphire sighed, stood up, and slipped out of the classroom as she continued the roll call.
He walked through the corridor, the walls echoing with the distant patter of rain and the soft hum of wind outside. As he reached the exit to the school grounds, a gust of cold air hit his face.
Great. Just great.
Jade. That idiot. Always disappearing. Always doing whatever he wants. I'm so tired of cleaning up after him.
They weren't really brothers. Not by blood, anyway. But everyone at the orphanage called them that.
They'd both been found on the same stormy night, fourteen years ago. Jade was discovered in a basket on the roadside. Sapphire… in a dustbin. Right by the front gate. The rain that night wasn't soft or gentle. It was violent. Thunder cracked the sky. Winds howled. If it hadn't been for Jade's loud crying, the caretakers might never have found either of them in time.
Since then, they'd been called brothers. Given names based on the gems they resembled—Sapphire, for the piercing blue of his eyes. Jade, for the striking green of his.
But truth be told, they were complete opposites.
Jade was reckless, loud, fearless.
Sapphire preferred silence. Books. Thinking.
As Sapphire stepped outside, something caught his eye.
High up—on the slanted roof of the classroom building.
No. No way.
There he was.
"JADE!" Sapphire yelled, his voice slicing through the air. "What are you doing up there?!"
Jade stood dangerously close to the edge, arms stretched out, face tilted up to the sky like he was trying to catch the wind. His shirt billowed behind him. His grin was wide, wild.
He turned at the sound of his name. "Saaaaph! You gotta see this! The view's amazing! The wind's like—WOOOSH!" He laughed, spinning slightly, arms wide.
By now, other kids had crowded the windows, gasping and pointing.
Sapphire gritted his teeth. "This absolute dumbass…" he muttered under his breath.
Then, out of nowhere—a wild cat scrambled across the roof, its claws skidding against the metal tiles. It darted toward Jade, trying to leap to another ledge—but slipped. In the chaos, it collided with Jade.
Jade's foot slipped.
His arms flailed.
Gasps filled the air.
Sapphire's heart stopped.
For a moment, it looked like he was going to fall—but Jade caught a dangling wire just in time. It swung slightly as he gripped it, legs dangling off the edge, but he managed to pull himself back up onto the roof.
Then, as if nothing had happened, he turned back to the stunned crowd below and waved.
"Seeeeee! I'm fiiiiine!" he shouted, laughing again, that same carefree smile plastered on his face.
From inside the classroom, Mrs. Beck stared at him through the window, deadpan.
She sighed. "He really is a dumbass."