The main academy of Valoria.
An institution praised as "the pinnacle" of education and security. Its facilities ranged from primary to secondary levels, its reputation spotless — no flaws to be found, a system that promised guaranteed learning and produced an outstanding rate of graduates who achieved their dreams.
John was one of the students who attended that prestigious academy.
⸻
Inside a quiet art room, John was finishing his project while the other children enjoyed their break, playing and chatting outside.
"He's such a dedicated boy, and his grades are perfect," one of his teachers said, closely observing John's work while speaking with a colleague.
"Absolutely. In my class, he's always the first to answer. You can tell he comes from a good family," the other replied, smiling proudly. It was remarkable to see such maturity in a first-grader.
"If he were as charming as his father, he'd probably have a lot of girls chasing him," one joked softly.
"Oh, don't even start," laughed the other. "I bet he'll grow up to be just like him. Maybe I'll introduce him to my daughter, haha."
Their laughter was interrupted when the P.E. teacher appeared behind them.
"I don't know about you two, but in my class he does nothing. The only reason he has a good grade is because he picks up all the balls at the end. He doesn't play, doesn't run — he just sits there, watching everyone else have fun," he said with mild frustration.
"He's just a child who probably doesn't like sports. Don't push him," one teacher replied, frowning slightly as if accusing him of being too harsh.
"W-What? Don't look at me like that! I just want the kid to make some friends!" he stammered before sighing and walking away.
⸻
Hours passed, and only one class remained — P.E.
As soon as they reached the field, the children ran off in excitement. Most of the boys went to play basketball, while John sat in his usual corner, quietly observing.
Soon, he felt someone approach.
"Are you going to sit there again? Don't you want to play with the others?" asked his teacher, trying to encourage him.
John stayed silent for a few seconds before slowly standing up.
"If that's what you want, sir… alright," he said flatly, as if following a command.
His classmates stared in disbelief — they had never seen him participate. Without hesitation, one of them passed him the ball.
John looked at it curiously, switched it from one hand to the other, and began to dribble.
What happened next left the teacher speechless, while the other kids burst into laughter and cheers.
Despite never having played before — except with the balls his father had once given him to play alone — John moved with surprising coordination, almost like a child two years older. His sudden skill left everyone astonished.
⸻
When class ended, John sat quietly as the teacher wrapped a bandage around his knee; he had tripped and scraped it.
"Honestly, kid… you've surprised me. You've got talent — not just in academics, but in sports too. You should practice more," the teacher said with an encouraging smile.
"I'll think about it…" John replied in a toneless voice.
⸻
When the bell rang, John saw his father waiting by the school gate. Out of habit, he ran up to him and hugged him.
Romeo returned the embrace with a gentle smile, bending down to pat his son's head.
"They called your mother. They said you got hurt playing basketball, and she got really worried, so she asked me to pick you up as soon as possible. But it looks like you're perfectly fine, huh?" he said, ruffling John's hair.
"It's nothing. It doesn't hurt anyway," John replied naturally.
It was obvious — his face showed not a single trace of pain, thanks to his peculiar condition.
"I see… So, did you enjoy playing? Did it excite you?" his father asked, hoping for a positive answer.
"Umm… I guess. It's different from the other classes. In sports, I have to try harder," John said, his tone neutral — yet, for Romeo, that was enough.
"You know… learning a sport, or maybe several, could be good for you. Some people might call you a 'problem,'" Romeo said softly, recalling what his in-laws once called his son: a lost case, a problem.
John simply nodded, showing no reaction.
"But the best thing about having a problem," Romeo continued with a smile, "is that you can turn it into your strength. You told me you can't feel pain, right?"
John nodded again.
"Then any athlete would envy you. Doing everything without fear of getting hurt… I'll teach you that what others call a 'problem' can actually be a miracle, if you use it right," Romeo said, touching his son's cheek gently before standing up.
"But… don't tell your mother, okay?" he added with a joking tone, shattering the moment's seriousness.
John looked at him blankly, unsure how to react.
"…HAHAHA!" Romeo laughed out loud, amused by his son's expression — emotionless, yet somehow funny in its own way.
He lifted John onto his shoulders and carried him to the car, still smiling warmly as they left together.