Saem Bu found solace in the silence of his small apartment, a stark contrast to the chaotic whirlwind of his thoughts. The modest surroundings were a constant reminder of the journey he had embarked upon, a journey marked by solitude and struggle. ‘Is this the price of chasing dreams? The isolation… the alienation…’ he pondered, his heart heavy with the weight of his experiences at the academy.

He stood before the mirror, his reflection revealing the features that marked his identity. His stature, shorter than most, seemed to echo the feelings of insignificance that had been his companions since his arrival at the academy. ‘Two days… Two days of being the outsider, the shortlisted one…’ his thoughts were a mix of determination and despair as he looked at his messy black hair, a symbol of his relentless pursuit and the chaos it brought.

His eyes, hidden behind the glasses that were a persistent on his face, were windows to his soul, revealing the vulnerability and the strength that resided within. ‘They see the glasses, but do they see the pain behind them? The hope…’ he wondered, adjusting them slightly.

His thoughts were a continuous companion, a mix of the memories of his supportive family and the harsh reality of his experiences. ‘Amma, Appa… Your support is my strength, but why does it feel so heavy?’ he mused, the thoughts of his family bringing both comfort and pain.

The apartment, his refuge in this foreign land, was a silent observer to his battles, a place where he could be himself, where he could reflect on his mission. ‘It’s not much, but it’s home… It’s where I can be Saem Bu,’ he thought, a sense of gratitude filling him despite the longing.

As he stepped out, carrying the weight of his experiences and the hope for acceptance, Saem Bu was a living testament to his adventure, his features a silent narrative of his efforts and dreams.

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Saem Bu, with his disheveled locks falling over his glasses, walked into his first class, In-depth Game Analysis. The air was thick with tension, the whispers of the 2nd years like a ceaseless hum in the background. ‘I guess this is just going to be another day of being the outsider?’ he pondered, his heart heavy with the weight of isolation.

The class was a whirlwind of information, the intricacies of the game unfolding before him. ‘So much to learn, so much to understand,’ he thought, his mind racing to keep up. The 2nd years were a relentless presence, their whispers a reminder of his status. ‘Shortlisted… Is that all I am to them?’ he wondered, the sting of exclusion sharp in his heart.

Next was Team Dynamics II, a lesson into the heart of teamwork. The lessons were a dance of cooperation and understanding, the essence of unity distilled into every word. ‘Together, we are stronger… But am I truly a part of this?’ he mused, the isolation a shadow over his thoughts.

The 2nd years were relentless, their words a tenacious barrage of judgment and disdain. “He doesn’t even belong here… Just a shortlisted streamer,” their whispers were like daggers, piercing his resolve. “Look at him, trying so hard. It’s pathetic,” the scorn in their voices was palpable, every word a blow to his spirit. ‘Is this my fate? To be the outcast?’ he questioned, his spirit wavering under the pressure.

Finally, he reached Advanced Nutrition, the sanctuary of Dr. Luna Thompson. Her presence was a beacon of warmth in the cold sea of isolation. Dr. Thompson, with her caring eyes and knowledgeable demeanor, stood at the front, her aura radiating a sense of comfort. Her hair, a cascade of golden waves, framed her face, highlighting her compassionate gaze. Her voice, a melody of wisdom, resonated in the room, spreading the essence of balanced nutrition.

“Today, we will explore the intricate balance of macro and micronutrients,” Dr. Thompson’s words flowed like a river of knowledge, her passion for nutrition evident in every syllable. “Understanding the harmony between different nutrients is crucial for peak performance,” her eyes scanned the room, ensuring every student was immersed in the learning.

The class was a symphony of information, the harmony of nutrition resonating in every word. ‘Balance, harmony… It’s the essence of life,’ he reflected, his mind absorbing the wisdom. The 2nd years were silent, their whispers a distant memory in the presence of Dr. Thompson.

Dr. Thompson, with her poised stance and clear voice, posed a question that seemed to echo in the silent room, “This is a challenging one. Can anyone explain the synergistic relationship between Vitamin D, Calcium, and Magnesium in bone health and muscle function? I’ll award 20 points to anyone who can answer it correctly.” Her eyes scanned the room, meeting the gaze of each student, the silence growing heavier with each passing second.

The room was a sea of contemplation, the faces a canvas of confusion and thought. The silence was a reflection of the complexity of the question, the minds a whirlpool of information and doubt. ‘Can I answer this? Should I?’ he wondered, his hand twitching at his side.

The silence was shattered by a voice of frustration, “This is too much! Why do we need to know such intricate details?” The voice was a mirror of the collective strife, the words a manifestation of the unspoken thoughts.

Dr. Thompson’s reply was a blend of understanding and resolve, “The intricacies of nutrition are the foundation of optimal performance. Understanding these relationships is crucial for maintaining peak physical and mental condition, especially for esports athletes.” Her words were a beacon of knowledge, illuminating the path of learning.

Saem Bu, feeling a pang of sympathy for Dr. Thompson, hesitantly raised his hand, his voice a whisper of certainty, “Vitamin D facilitates the absorption of Calcium and Magnesium in the intestines, promoting bone health and muscle function. A deficiency in one can affect the balance and lead to health issues.” His words were a beacon of hope in the sea of silence, his knowledge a proof of his dedication.

Dr. Thompson’s eyes lit up, a smile gracing her lips, “Excellent, Saem Bu! That’s absolutely correct. You’ve earned yourself 20 points.” Her voice was a melody of appreciation, her words a dance of praise. But, to the surprise of the class, she added, “In fact, for such a comprehensive answer, I’ll award you an additional 20 points.”

The room was a mixture of awe and resentment, the eyes a reflection of unspoken words. ‘I did it… I actually did it,’ he thought, a wave of relief washing over him. But the whispers returned, the shadows of resentment lurking in the corners.

Exiting the classroom, Saem Bu felt a mix of triumph and trepidation, the lingering gazes of his peers a constant reminder of his precarious standing. The corridors were a maze of anticipation, students moving in a dance of unspoken hierarchies and silent judgments. ‘Every step feels like walking through a minefield of judgement,’ he mused, his thoughts a swirl of reflections and uncertainties.

The whispers were like invisible threads, weaving a tapestry of unvoiced thoughts and concealed emotions around him. ‘The shortlisted one… The unexpected genius…’ the murmurs were like echoes, bouncing off the walls of his mind. His steps were measured, a dance between the desire for acceptance and the reality of isolation.

His journey to the cafeteria was a silent battle, his thoughts a constant companion in the sea of unspoken words. ‘What will I find there today? Will the clouds of judgment follow me?’ he wondered, his heart a mix of hope and apprehension. The anticipation was a silent player in this game of acceptance, the unknown a constant shadow over his thoughts.

The walk was a reflection of his inner turmoil, his steps a mirror to his swirling thoughts. The academy was a world of uncharted territories and hidden battles, and Saem Bu was the unexpected warrior in this realm of learning and competition. ‘Is this how my next year is going to be? Walking and struggling alone?’ he pondered, his spirit a mix of resilience and vulnerability.

Lunch unfolded in the expansive cafeteria, a place brimming with a myriad of scents and a cacophony of chatter. The St. Thomas Aquinas Library, a sanctuary of knowledge, loomed over the dining area, its towering shelves filled with countless tomes. Saem Bu found a secluded corner, his meal a silent companion amidst the sea of murmurs and laughter.

The air was thick with the aroma of various cuisines, a dance of flavors and spices. Students were engaged in animated conversations, their voices a blend of different accents and languages, creating a lively atmosphere. However, Saem Bu felt the sting of isolation, his presence seemingly invisible to the bustling crowd around him.

It was amidst this solitude that a group of second-year students approached him, their faces marked with scorn. “Oh, look who it is, the shortlisted genius,” one of them sneered, his words dripping with disdain. “Enjoying your meal, are you? Think you’re so much better than us with those 40 points you stole?”

Saem Bu’s grip tightened around his fork, his voice a quiet but firm rebuttal, “I didn’t steal anything. I earned those points fair and square.” His eyes, shielded by glasses, met theirs, a mixture of defiance and apprehension swirling within them.

The tension around the table was palpable, the air heavy with unspoken animosity. The second years leaned in closer, their faces inches away from Saem Bu’s, their breaths mingling with the aromatic scents of the cafeteria. “Earned? You call answering a simple question earning?” The disdain in their voices was evident, their eyes narrowing at Saem Bu’s unwavering stance.

“I did what anyone could have done,” Saem Bu retorted, his voice steady, his unkempt hair falling into his eyes as he looked up to meet their gaze. “If you have a problem with the points, take it up with Dr. Thompson.”

“Problem? Oh, we have a problem alright,” another second year chimed in, his voice a venomous whisper. “You think you can just waltz in here, answer a question, and act like you own the place?”

“You don’t belong here, shortlisted,” another voice joined in, the words a sharp jab. “You’re just a charity case, a pity addition to make the academy look good.”

“Why don’t you just run back home to your family, shortlisted?” The words were a cruel taunt, a malicious smirk playing on the speaker's lips. “This place is for the elite, not for charity cases like you.”

Saem Bu’s hand was shaking now, his fork clattering against the plate, his eyes, behind the glasses, were ablaze with a mixture of hurt and anger. ‘I can’t...I won’t let them...’ His thoughts were a whirlwind, his restraint at its breaking point.

It was at this exact moment, the air thick with tension and unspoken rage, that a voice cut through the hostile atmosphere. “Hey! Leave him alone.” The voice was firm, commanding, and belonged to none other than Josh, his tall frame casting a shadow over the second years. Cruz was beside him, his eyes scanning the situation, a wary look on his face.

Josh’s hair, a distinctive shade of dark blue, fell in a rebellious, somewhat spiky manner, hinting at a personality that was unafraid to be different. The gold number 1 on his ID badge gleamed subtly, a silent confirmation to his scholarship status, a detail not missed by the second years.

Beside him, Cruz’s presence was marked by his intense focus, his black wavy locks, highlighted with subtle strokes of crimson, framed his serious face. His eyes, sharp and determined, were locked onto the second years, his every movement reflecting his seasoned experience in the gaming world.

The second years, taken aback by the sudden intervention, regrouped, their eyes flickering between Saem Bu and Josh. “Oh, the first years want to play hero now?” The mockery in their voice was evident, but there was a hint of uncertainty, a crack in their façade of arrogance.

Josh’s gaze was unwavering, his voice calm but authoritative. “He doesn’t owe you anything. If you have a problem with the points, solve it yourselves.” Cruz remained silent, his presence a silent support to Josh’s words, his eyes never leaving the second years.

A tense silence enveloped the group, the cafeteria’s lively atmosphere a stark contrast to the standoff. It was Josh who broke the silence, his hand reaching for his phone. “If it’s the points you want, I’ll transfer them to you. Just leave him alone.”

The second years, their arrogance replaced with surprise, watched as Josh completed the transfer, his fingers moving swiftly over the screen. The atmosphere was a mix of tension and curiosity, the surrounding students watching the unfolding drama with bated breath.

After receiving their name, the transaction was swift, the points transferred without a hitch, leaving the second years momentarily stunned. The gold number 1 on Josh’s badge seemed to gleam even brighter, a silent reminder of his status in the academy. The second years, their pride wounded, retreated without another word, their glares lingering on Saem Bu, Josh, and Cruz.

The cafeteria slowly returned to its usual buzz, the whispers and murmurs filling the air once more. Saem Bu, still reeling from the confrontation, turned to Josh, his glasses slightly askew. “Why did you do that?” His voice was a mixture of gratitude and confusion, his eyes searching Josh’s for an answer.

Josh, his blue hair falling into his eyes, smiled warmly, pulling up a chair beside Saem Bu. “I couldn’t just stand there and watch them bully you.” His voice was sincere, his eyes meeting Saem Bu’s with a genuine concern. Cruz, his crimson-highlighted locks catching the light, remained silent, his eyes observing the interaction with a cautious interest.

Saem Bu, his heart racing, felt a warmth spreading through him, a feeling of acceptance he hadn’t felt since he arrived at the academy. “Thank you,” he murmured, his eyes meeting Josh’s, a silent understanding passing between them.

Josh’s smile widened, and he pulled up a chair to sit next to Saem Bu, his blue hair catching the light as he moved. “We’ve heard about your skills, Saem Bu. Alma and Vera were quite impressed, and they showed us some of your plays from your streams.” His voice was earnest, his eyes locked onto Saem Bu’s, conveying a sincerity that made Saem Bu’s heart flutter with a mixture of anxiety and excitement.

Cruz joined them, his presence strong yet silent, his eyes, filled with a determined focus, were on Saem Bu, assessing him with a glance.

Saem Bu, feeling the weight of their gazes, adjusted his glasses nervously. ‘Is this really happening? Am I really being considered to join their team?’ He thought, his heart racing.

Josh leaned in slightly, “We are forming a team, and we believe you have what it takes to be a part of it. We’ve seen your dedication and your passion, and we think you’d be a valuable asset. And getting full marks on the shortlist exam? That’s impressive.”

Saem Bu hesitated, his thoughts swirling. ‘Can I really be a part of their team? Do I have what it takes to meet their expectations?’ The questions lingered in his mind as he looked at Josh and Cruz, seeing the hope in Josh’s eyes and the silent assessment in Cruz’s.

Josh, sensing Saem Bu’s hesitation, offered, “How about a trial period? We’ll make a contract that ensures you can leave whenever you want if you’re unhappy.”

Saem Bu’s hands were trembling slightly, his fingers clenching and unclenching around the fabric of his pants. His glasses were slightly askew, and he adjusted them nervously as he looked between Josh and Cruz. “Are… are you sure about this? I mean, I’m just a shortlisted student, and…” his voice trailed off, the uncertainty in his words hanging in the air like a tangible entity. His mind was a whirlpool of thoughts, doubts, and hopes, all clashing and swirling in a chaotic dance.

Josh’s eyes softened, the firmness that had been there moments ago melting away to reveal a warmth and understanding that seemed to envelop Saem Bu. He placed a reassuring hand on Saem Bu’s shoulder, the contact a solid anchor in the sea of Saem Bu’s tumultuous thoughts. “Saem Bu, if you’re unhappy and decide to leave the association, I’ll give you all the points I have.” His voice was gentle, yet there was a resolve in his words, a promise that seemed unbreakable.

The air around them seemed to still, the words hanging between them, heavy with meaning and implications. Saem Bu’s eyes, hidden behind the lenses of his glasses, were wide, a mixture of disbelief and a flicker of hope shining in their depths. The offer, so unexpected and sincere, was a balm to his wounded spirit, a ray of light in the shade of his isolation.

Cruz and Saem Bu both looked at Josh in surprise. “Why would you do that?” Saem Bu asked, his voice a whisper of disbelief.

Josh’s gaze was firm, his voice steady, “I can’t stand it when people judge someone without knowing them. I’ve watched your streams! You’re passionate, skilled, and never toxic in your interactions. We need someone like you. And if they say you don’t belong here, being a regular Master player, then what about me, who’s only in Diamond II…”

Saem Bu opened up a little bit, but before he could reply, Josh cut in, “Think about it! But for now, why don’t you join us in watching the first match of the Elite Four Challenge after classes?”

Cruz, seeing Saem Bu’s confused look, clarified, “It’s a friendly tournament at the start of the academic year. The top 4 teams from last year compete against each other. This year, it’s the Endgame Strikers, Nextech Alliance, and two 'Pillar' teams, Celestial Vanguard and Nexa Dominion.”

Saem Bu, absorbing the information, felt a spark of excitement and a growing sense of happiness and acceptance. “Sure,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of eagerness, “I’ll be happy to watch with you.”

“Great, we’ll see you later then!” Josh gave Saem Bu a friendly pat on the shoulder as he and Cruz stood up.As Josh and Cruz walked away, the air felt different, the weight of isolation seemed lighter, and the shadows of judgment were fading. His thoughts were a blend of hope and a newfound sense of belonging. ‘Maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something new…’ The thought echoed in his mind as he stepped into this unfolding chapter, filled with new possibilities and the warmth of companionship.