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Chapter 18 – Echoes of the Alley

The air had grown colder over the past few days, but Don still lingered outside after school, leaning against the rusted railing near the back gate — the one barely used by anyone except the older kids or those who didn’t want to be seen.

It had become his quiet spot.

The spot where he could hear the city breathing without feeling its weight.

Jake and Gor had gone ahead — Jake had tutoring, Gor had student council duties. Don said he needed some air, and they trusted him now when he said things like that.

But they didn’t know why.

Because even though the laughs had returned, even though their bond had started to repair, Don had secrets.

And some wounds he couldn’t show — not yet.

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That graffiti from the other day had stirred something in him.

B.F.G.

It had been years, but some names didn’t fade — especially not those burned into your identity.

Blue Fang Gang wasn’t just a group of misfits. It was a home for boys who had no place else. It was where Don had first learned how to fight — not for trophies, but for dignity. For territory. For survival.

He had joined when he was just thirteen — back when Aarya was alive, back when he still believed he could save people.

And somehow, he had become the vice-captain.

Not by ambition — but by trust.

They called him "Ink" in the gang — not because he wrote poems, but because he never needed to speak; his actions wrote stories on the streets.

The gang had long since disbanded after something terrible happened… something Don still couldn’t bear to revisit.

And no one — not Jake, not Gor — knew a word of it.

Not yet.

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As he stood there, someone tapped his shoulder.

He turned quickly — instincts sharp.

It was a boy with spiked hair and a scar above his left eyebrow.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” the boy muttered.

Don’s eyes narrowed. “…Rico?”

The boy smirked. “Still sharp, Ink. Still alone, huh?”

Don didn’t reply.

Rico leaned in. “Few of the old boys still talk. You ever wonder why we broke up, Don? Why we scattered?”

“I know why.”

“You think you do.”

Don stepped back. “This life’s over, Rico. Leave it.”

Rico’s grin faded. “You don’t get to walk away from it like it never mattered. Not when some of us still bleed for what we lost.”

Don felt it — the old weight returning. The guilt. The fire.

“Tell them I’m not coming back.”

Rico just nodded and walked off, disappearing into the alley shadows.

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That night, Don skipped dinner. He sat at his desk staring at Aarya’s diary.

He didn’t write.

He just stared.

Because old ghosts were returning, and this time, they weren’t whispering — they were knocking.

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Meanwhile, Jake found something by accident.

He was helping clean up the classroom when a tattered paper fell from Don’s forgotten book.

He picked it up.

A crude sketch.

Three boys — smiling, arms around each other.

But behind them — a wolf, fangs bared, blue eyes glowing.

B.F.G.

Jake stared.

What was this?

And why did Don look so different in that drawing — fierce, cold… like someone else entirely?

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End of Chapter 18

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