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Bahorel began to attend LaMarque school at the same time as everybody else did yet he was treated as a foreigner. He couldn’t figure out why; he couldn’t ask anyone about it. Everyone ran away from him. At first he thought it was because he had no presence and thus creeping up behind them would be pretty scary. However when he made sure he was known by calling out their name, they would exhibit the same reaction and scurry away.
At last he figured ‘what was the point in trying’? Whatever the reason was, he didn’t care anymore. The outcome would always be the same. So, with that in mind, he would always patrol the halls of the school with a frown. Not that he knew he was making a face either.
Although when there was a new classmate, the teacher asked where he would like to sit. Immediately the student pointed at the seat next to Bahorel. Last time he had anyone sit next to him the student ended up crying after he tried to make a conversation with them. Therefore he had the right to be surprised when the new student decided he wanted to sit next to him. Even the teacher was unsure as he asked if he was sure. Feuilly- he remembered his name- just nodded cartoonishly. When their eyes met, Feuilly bit his bottom lip with his goofy teeth out. That was genuine excitement he witnessed. The first time Bahorel ever saw someone look at him like that. For some reason he didn’t like this new feeling; it hurt his heart. So he looked away by the time Feuilly reached the seat next to him.
While the class was going on, Feuilly’s arm gravitated towards his. Honestly he wasn’t sure if it was because he was the heat source or if it was because Feuilly liked him. The latter seemed impossible…
After the lesson, Feuilly caught up with him in the hallway and walked with him. All eyes were on the two, but Bahorel believed everyone was just staring at him alone. He felt bad for Feuilly. Until he said the most simple question: “Where did you get your scar from?”
Instinctively, Bahorel pushed him against the wall, causing other students to scatter. “Don’t ever ask me that again.”
Feuilly’s eyes were wide with fear.
Feeling guilty, Bahorel pulled back. “I- I’m sorry.”
Strangely, Feuilly gracefully touched his arm to alert him to look at his face. There was no trace of fright nor distress. His eyes were big and watery, but it didn’t stem from any malice. No, deep inside, Bahorel could see care. His mouth twitched, holding back a smile. Feuilly assuringly said, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
Bahorel then realised he was still touching him, so he fully backed away. “Don’t apologise for something that wasn’t your fault.”
With that he stormed off. Feuilly watched him in curiosity.
In truth, Bahorel didn’t know why he was so mad. It was definitely not directed at Feuilly. He was angry at himself. The one person who made him happy he pushed away. Literally.
Then as he was storming off, he realised a girl was striding towards him. It was the Thénardier girl. He had met her once before, holding a staring contest of some sort. In the end her friend finally had to drag her away. The girl, judging from her uniform, was at least a year younger than he was. Yet she was fearless and confident. When they first met he really thought she wanted to be friends with him but he concluded he was really bad at judging what a person was feeling.
Éponine marched towards him and threw something at his torso. A couple of students in the radius gasped. The object dropped to the floor and Bahorel picked it up. “You brought a glove just to throw it at me?”
“It means a duel, Bahorel.” Éponine almost roared, full of energy.
“But… why?”
“Because… Because… I want to be the most feared,” She lifted her hands to act like claws.
Bahorel cocked his head sideways. If anything, Éponine was adorable, no way being frightening. However she did look like she was from the streets, with her hair oily, her teeth yellow, and her skin being unusually pale. “In one condition.” Bahorel said.
“What?”
“I’ll demand it after I win the fight afterschool.” He spoke in confidence.
She relaxed her stance. “Well I have to pick up my little brother tonight afterschool.”
“Tomorrow afterschool?” Bahorel lifted his eyebrow, unsure.
“Yes!” She hissed in joy and excitement.
“Tomorrow afterschool.” He repeated in confidence.
As he turned to go to his class, from the corner of his eye, he could see Feuilly. Even though it was just a glance, he remembered his smile for the rest of the school day, at random times flashing in front of his eyes.
The school began to buzz about the fight and the hype was building. Somehow the students were able to keep quiet about it whenever a teacher was within hearing distance. This way, the students prepared for the long-awaited fight between the grumpiest boy and girl in school.
In the back of the school building, a tiny crowd attended. Bahorel took off his jacket and loosened his tie. Feuilly voluntarily rushed to him and took the jacket out of his hand and accidentally stared at his collarbones for too long until Bahorel called out his name to snap him out of it. While Feuilly found this moment embarrassing, Bahorel was genuinely worried about Feuilly’s little malfunction.
He then paid all his attention to Éponine, the girl who was in front of him. She literally growled like a dog although her legs were shaking. Her knees had mud stuck on them and he could already see some cuts on them.
Bahorel pouted in which she misinterpreted as a mockery and swung her fist at him.
The girl was fast and so he didn’t have time to dodge. Yet when her punch landed on his chest, it didn’t hurt. There was hardly any energy in it. But upon seeing her teary eyes, Bahorel feigned the pain and fell on his bottom. He really thought he was overselling it but Éponine was staring at her hand as if she found out she had superpowers.
Swiftly, Bahorel got back on his feet and weakly through a punch in which he slowed down so she could see it. She counteracted the punch by punching back. No shield, no deflecting, no dodging. She outright just punched him in the arm. Right on the elbow.
That actually hurt this time and he nudged her with his shoulder which he accidentally put too much force into and she fell onto the ground. Feuilly helped her up, trying to inspect her but she pushed him away.
“Éponine,” He called out, “Why do you want to do this? Exactly?”
She growled in response.
Bahorel sighed as he lifted his fists. Éponine’s face dropped in fear which in turn made Bahorel lower his hands until he saw confidence capture her face again.
She charged at him messily and he sidestepped, causing her to stumble past him. Hectically, she pivoted and yelled in frustration.
“Are you displacing your anger into this?” Bahorel asked before Éponine tried to claw him. He successfully dodged her attacks.
Quickly, he glanced up at Feuilly who showed great worry in his face. Then he remembered pushing him against the wall. He hated seeing that face.
Being distracted, Éponine saw this as her opportunity and charged at him. Unfortunately Bahorel’s reflexes didn’t have a filter and smacked her on the face.
With Éponine crouching down, silent, the fight was deemed to have ended.
Disappointed in how lame the fight was, the students grumbled as they left Bahorel, Éponine, and Feuilly.
“I’m so sorry,” Bahorel said, panicking. He had never hit a person before.
“She’s fine. She’s just in pain.” Feuilly spoke, his words holding the meaning of comfort yet his delivery of what he said was shaky and frantic.
“I’m fine.” She muffled. “I’m just… useless.”
This rang something in Bahorel’s gut. It was something he used to think. Cautiously he approached Éponine like how he would’ve approached his younger self. He knelt down, “Hey, I won.”
She groaned loudly.
“Don’t you want to know what I wanted as my victory present?”
Feuilly nudged him, confused.
Éponine lifted her head. “What?”
Bahorel pulled away, surprised that she was responding. Usually people didn’t follow the script he had set out for them. Ordinarily they would just run away from him. He cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”
“That’s what you wanted? A question?” Éponine lifted her eyebrow.
“No, I mean… Are you treated well at home?” Bahorel waved his hands around like an alien learning how to use human limbs for the first time. "Are you treated normally...? As a human being...? Do you feel love and care?" He glanced at Feuilly momentaneously.
Éponine looked down. “Yes.” She finally said after her long pause.
Feuilly observed raindrops on the sandy ground. He furrowed his eyebrows until he realised they were teardrops. He crouched down next to Éponine and gave her a hug. In relief, Éponine hugged him back, her cries growing louder, striking through Bahorel’s heart. He frowned. Not in the way he did before- this time he frowned as he felt the pain from his burning face. His scar glowed red as if it had just cut his face fresh.
It was then Feuilly realised where he got that scar from. “Bahorel?” He softly called out with his soothing voice. “Come here.”
Bahorel knelt with Éponine and Feuilly pulled both of them tighter into a hug. “It’s going to be okay. I’m with you. I’ll be with you for an awfully long time.”
Bahorel chuckled as he choked on his tears. Then he felt warmth on his hand. His eyes followed the hand to its owner and saw that it belonged to Éponine. Despite her face dug deep in Feuilly’s shoulder, she reached out for him. Gently, with her thumb, she stroked the back of his hand. That was all she needed to do to show her gratefulness. Bahorel smiled. Éponine now had two friends. And as Feuilly said, it would be extremely difficult to get rid of them. Bahorel decided he was going to protect her and her little brother. No more pain. No more fights. No more scars. They were going to press the refresh button. Together.