Namoras
Namora didn't get permission

A group of middle school students in Batu City State Junior High School were seen gathering several groups around the school cafeteria.

From the way the faces of each of the teenagers who looked very serious, it was clear that something they were discussing was a very interesting topic. If it is not interesting, it is impossible for them to sit so closely with their occasional frown wrinkled as if thinking.

In one place, precisely under a leafy rambutan tree, eight teenagers were also busy talking to their neighbors.

All students in Junior High know that seven of the eight students are teenagers who call themselves J7.

Not much different from the rest of the group, they also seemed serious about something that might be quite interesting to them.

At this time, the eight young men seemed to be thinking hard before one of them broke the silence that had been created.

"Jol. Among us, who do you think is the most eligible to participate in the pencak silat championship tournament between junior high schools in this Batu City district?" Asked one of the eight young men.

It seems, which has since managed to grab the attention of these teenagers is a pencak silat championship tournament that will be held soon. And at this time, none of the students who have martial arts that is not caught by his attention.

Meanwhile, Namora who was also there just listened and became a good listener. Because he is not really counted. Understandably, no one knows that actually the level of intelligence he has is very far above children who are his age.

Jol, the head of the eight teenage children, seemed to think before answering a question from one of his friends.

For now, he felt that in their school, no one could be relied upon. And it's been happening since before. That, in this school of theirs, no one had ever been a champion. In fact, to get into the top three was never.

Jol himself had participated in the tournament and only managed to take fourth place because of rigged. Since then, he has never again been interested in the pencak silat championship. He just focused on honing his fighting skills with the goal, that someday, it will be very useful, more than just following a tournament event.

There was a heavy gasp of breath from Jol before answering the question. "I don't know. It seems, among us and all the students in Junior High, no one has the qualifications to enter the championship. What else won it," replied Jol with a heavy tone.

"Indeed it seems, our Junior High has been consumed by a curse. From the past, there have been no students in this Junior High who can boast in the annual tournament event. In fact, if for the arrogance possessed by the students here, like they are referred to as masters. Oppress each other. But if it's outside, it's quiet like a vegetable chicken" James said. There was a little growling from his tone.

"Are you thinking about going to that tournament?" Ask Jaiz to Jericho.

"Me?"

"Why?" Ask Jaiz wonder.

"My skill level is below Jol's. Why don't you just Jol?" Jericho threw a question at Jol.

"You know for yourself. How did they cheat on me? I came out of the ring with my head held high. However, without a medal, what does it mean. I'm not interested!" Jol refused.

"It seems, there are no representatives from our Junior High this year," Juned muttered as if talking to himself.

"Bodo is very. Let's go to class!" Take Jol while getting up from his seat.

"Rather than taking part in a tournament, it is better to study earnestly. Learning martial arts is not just about winning a tournament. But more than that!"

The seven children immediately followed their chief who had already walked ahead first.

*********

There was the sound of something slamming on the bed. Followed by someone's seat the bed earlier.

Namora looks really upset. Again, he scooped his face with both hands.

This morning, he became a good listener of his friends' chat about the pencak silat championship that was to be held soon.

He was very interested in attending the event. However, he did not dare before getting permission from his teacher, Harianto Pujakesuma.

At the same time, he intended to convey his intentions and goals to the old man. But what did he get?

Mr. Harianto did not allow, but forbade Namora to participate in the tournament. He even said that if he did, it wouldn't make him proud.

"But cake. SMP where Namora studied, had never once won that match. What's wrong if before Namora occupied high school, Namora left pride for the country Junior High where Namora is studying now?"

The myriad of reasons given by Namora, still does not change the founding of Mr. Harianto. He remained steadfast by saying that Namora was still not finished studying. Later if all he mastered, then Namora will be released and can make his own decisions. However, for now, Namora was still his disciple. So, the decision of a teacher is absolute and should not be disputed. This made Namora very upset.

"Then Namora will no longer study martial arts" Namora said in a fit of annoyance. But what is the answer from Mr. Harianto..?

"If it's until I pick you up at home, I'll make sure you're in a wheelchair!"

Stand up nape feather Namora heard the threat.

Namora opened her shoelaces, then she kicked her up so that the shoes she was wearing had come off her feet, and slashed them against the ceiling of the room. But unfortunately, the shoes were freefall and hit right on his head.

"Basic fucking shoes!" Maki Namora with sewot.

I am really annoyed with Namora's heart. He rubbed his dirty head as a result of being hit by the shoes earlier.

Now Namora is laying her body on the bed. His eyes kept on the ceiling.

"Sleeping dumbbells. Where's everybody going?" Inner Namora in the heart.

Since then he has not seen Rio, his uncle's wife and also his mother Mirna.

"I used to have no ability, I was in the bully. Now, already have the ability, also still in the bully. Never considered to exist. Actually, what's this shit?"

"Namorah. You haven't mastered yourself. If you go to that tournament, you can kill people. Better, delay first. Later, if you can control your emotions, you can just take part in the tournament. Just think of what you received today as a sharpener of your patience!"

Still ringing in Namora's ear the words spoken by Mr. Harianto.

"Allah. Sabodo is," said Namora who immediately tilted her body back to the door of the room.

Seriate...