Home / Urban/Realistic / From Nothing to Norton / Chapter 13 A Lost Brother
Chapter 13 A Lost Brother
Author: zamarni
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

Upon returning from school on a Tuesday evening, Newton found no changes in the situation at home. The traitor within their camp remained elusive, and the identity of the abductee by the Lees remained unknown. Seeking rest and the opportunity to meet Kira, Newton ascended the stairs to the fifth floor, hoping for a fortuitous encounter.

To his surprise, Kira stood in the same spot where they had last met, seemingly waiting for him. With eagerness, Newton quickened his pace to join her, stopping a few meters away.

"Hello Kira," he called out, attempting to strike up a conversation.

Turning to face him, Kira appeared even more breathtaking than before. Undeterred by her unresponsiveness, Newton persisted.

"Aren't you surprised that I know your name?" he inquired, hoping to evoke a reaction.

She merely shrugged, keeping her gaze fixed on his face.

"My father informed me," Newton continued, determined to break the ice. "You now work for me. I am your boss."

Kira's expression remained unchanged, displaying her indifference to his words.

"Uh... You can talk to me. You won't be breaking any rules," Newton coaxed, urging her to speak.

Without uttering a word, Kira turned around and picked up a sword. She began swinging it, eventually running a finger along the blade.

Growing frustrated with her silence, Newton longed to hear her voice. He had an imagined tape playing in his mind, anticipating what her voice might sound like. All he needed was for her to speak, so he could confirm the resemblance.

Sensing Newton's frustration, Kira offered him a sword with a sweet smile.

Newton accepted the sword, and she proceeded to correct the positioning of his sword hand. She then kicked his legs apart, aligning them with the proper stance.

With her proximity intensifying, Newton could now sense her presence and catch the scent of her perfume. Temptation stirred within him, urging him to abandon all pretense and kiss her. Yet, he restrained himself, reminding himself to stay focused on their business.

Kira gracefully executed a backflip before assuming her stance once again. Newton motioned for her to come at him, determined to show her that he was not easily defeated as he had been in their previous encounter.

*Wham*

Out of nowhere, a kick landed on Newton's jaw, momentarily leaving his head light. He marveled at Kira's incredible speed, realizing that she was too swift for him to react to the attack.

"Is that all you've got?" Newton challenged, blood dripping from his lips.

She launched another kick aimed at his face, but this time he was prepared. Newton caught her leg with his large hands and pulled her closer, securing both legs in his grip. A satisfied expression crossed his face as he successfully restrained her.

Performing a monkey flip, Kira swiftly maneuvered, causing Newton to fall onto his back. She stood triumphantly over him, his massive frame sprawled on the ground. Extending her hand, she helped him up, and he accepted the gesture.

Passing him a sword, Kira proceeded to teach him basic attack and defense moves. They practiced these techniques repeatedly, honing their skills.

"Let's fight again!" Newton challenged, eager for another round.

Kira nodded, assuming her stance. This time, Newton executed the correct maneuvers.

Within a few swift exchanges, Kira expertly positioned the tip of her sword at Newton's throat. Feeling defeated, he dropped his sword in surrender.

Kira smiled and picked up both swords, preparing to return them.

"Is that all for today?" Newton inquired.

Kira nodded, swiftly sprinting back to the window.

"Not again," Newton muttered to himself, realizing that Kira was leaving once more through the window

As Kira waved at him before leaping out of sight, a wave of loneliness washed over Newton. He yearned for more time to spar with her or, better yet, to have someone he could converse with throughout the day.

Seeking solace, Newton retreated to his room and took a cold shower. Lying on his bed, he stared at the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, desperately searching for something to alleviate his boredom.

Suddenly, an idea struck him. "Why don't I call Drax and suggest going to the gym today?" he pondered.

Grabbing his phone, Newton scrolled through his contacts until he found "Brother," Drax's nickname. He dialed the number, but the call failed to connect. Three attempts yielded the same frustrating result.

It dawned on him that he hadn't seen Drax since their last visit to the gym together the previous day. Panic seized Newton's thoughts, and he hurried downstairs.

Knocking once on his father's door, he swiftly entered. "Have you seen Drax?" he asked his father, his voice trembling with worry.

His father's eyes widened, recognizing the urgency in Newton's tone. Immediately, Mr. Norton picked up his phone and dialed Grinch.

"Have you seen Drax?" he asked Grinch with evident concern, his voice filled with worry and anticipation.

"No, sir. I haven't seen him... Oh my God... Could it be?" Newton overheard Grinch's alarmed response from the phone.

Mr. Norton released the phone, letting it fall onto the bed. He sank back onto his pillow, locking eyes with Newton, both sharing a sense of distress and uncertainty.

"Should we call Mr. Lee?" Newton asked anxiously, desperation evident in his voice.

Mr. Norton reached for the phone, his face displaying a mix of concern and determination.

"Can you take me to that bastard Lee?" Newton pleaded.

"I'm sorry, sir... We'll have to wait for them to make contact," came the response from the other end.

Frustration and disappointment gripped Mr. Norton as he shook his head, abruptly ending the call. The abrupt awakening and the news he had received left his eyes red and a sour mood lingering in the air. "Wait for them to contact us? To inform us that they've taken the life of a good man?" Mr. Norton muttered, his voice filled with dismay.

Just as the tension settled, the phone rang again, and Grinch's voice came through the line. "Sir, the Lees have just made contact," Grinch reported, aware of the urgency in Mr. Norton's tone.

"And?... Spit it out, Grinch!" Mr. Norton exclaimed impatiently, craving immediate answers.

"They have Drax, sir," Grinch relayed, his words carrying the weight of the news.

The anger in Mr. Norton flared up. "What do those filthy bastards want with a good man?" he shouted, his frustration boiling over. Seeking clarity, he asked Grinch about their intentions, venting his anger over the phone.

"They didn't mention it, sir," Grinch replied, maintaining his calm demeanor.

Determined, Mr. Norton snapped, "The next time those dirty scoundrels call again, tell them to release this man or else..." His voice trailed off as he abruptly ended the call, leaving his intentions hanging in the air.

Newton had always been intrigued by how Grinch rose to become the leader of the Norts. Despite the chaos surrounding their world, Grinch carried an air of tranquility, rarely resorting to cursing and maintaining a demeanor that could be mistaken for that of a middle school teacher. Though Newton had witnessed Grinch's aggression during Mr. Belson's kidnapping, the majority of the time, he remained composed and collected.

"Those bastards... They better not lay a finger on my boy," Mr. Norton muttered, his concern for Drax evident. Drax held a special place in Mr. Norton's heart, akin to a son.

Newton's shoulders slumped with sorrow, realizing that his best friend, whom he considered a brother, had been cruelly taken away. The circumstances surrounding Drax's abduction raised the grim possibility of him meeting the same fate as Mr. Belson. Newton held the Lees responsible, even if indirectly, as the weight of Drax's peril weighed heavily on his mind.

The thought of Drax's life hanging in the balance pierced Newton's heart like a nail struck by a hammer. In that moment, the pain and anguish he felt for his friend were immeasurable. He whispered, "My dear brother," shaking his head in disbelief, the weight of his emotions bearing down upon him.

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