The bustle around him had nothing to do with the boy.
Everyone was laughing and fooling around.
He was the only one looking for somewhere to hide.
Yet he couldn't leave.
They still had to assemble when class ended.
The teacher had to call roll.
This was to prevent some students from slacking off and sneaking back to the classroom as soon as free activity time began.
So even though he was very unwilling, the boy could only stay outside by himself, bored out of his mind.
In the classroom, whether he was doing homework or reviewing his lessons, he could always find something to do.
It made him look less out of place.
But what could he do outside?
Every sport was a group activity.
At least two people were needed.
He wasn't good at sports, either.
"Look out!"
The boy hadn't realized that the warning was meant for him—
"Bang!"
"Ah—"
A ball slammed hard into his head.
The pain that shot straight to his nerve endings made him cry out.
He covered his head.
He hunched over.
It hurts.
The intense pain cut his voice short.
He sucked in a sharp breath.
"Are you okay?"
Someone hurried over.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
The person's voice was frantic.
"I didn't do it on purpose."
"Are you all right?"
The boy couldn't make out the noisy voices around him.
All his attention was focused on the pain in his head.
He closed his eyes.
Then opened them again.
His blurry vision gradually cleared.
The gray concrete floor came into view.
Right.
He wasn't on the basketball court.
Yet, by some incredible stroke of bad luck, he had been hit squarely by a basketball that had flown out of the court beside him.
He really