The Tale of Kame, The Clever Hare (Episode 4)

The Tale of Kame, The Clever Hare (Episode 4)

 Episode 4: Bullies...huh! 

Time was moving fast. Kame was now ten—no longer the small, fragile creature found drifting on River Leni. He had grown lean, sharp and carried a confidence that felt beyond his years. 

Amal, now twelve, had become more protective, her once playful spirit tempered by wisdom. Ram, thirteen, carried his pride like a shield, though it often blinded him. Rugo, the eldest at fifteen, was strong—but the world still had lessons to teach him. 

The sun hung lazily over the treetops. The evening was approaching fast. On the edge of twilight, the sun cast its final golden glow over the open playing field. 

Ram and Rugo darted across the dry grass, laughter trailing behind them. They had a ball. They kept tossing it between themselves, back and forth, back and forth. Their voices rang through the air, carefree and wild. 

In a nearby tree, Kame was perched high in a guava tree. Mono had deliberately taught him to climb trees and now he was a master at it. He lounged on a sturdy branch, plucking a ripe guava from a cluster. He took a slow, deliberate bite, chewing thoughtfully. His gaze was not on his brothers; instead, he watched the far horizon, where the blue hills stood against the sky. 

Then, a shadow moved. Three large figures emerged from the forest’s edge, striding onto the field where Rugo and Ram played. 

“Look who we have here,” a voice sneered. The laughter died down. Ram and Rugo turned. Three older boy baboons, bigger, stronger and meaner, approached them. 

Their leader, a thick-shouldered boy baboon with a scar across his cheek, twirled a vine around his fingers. He was the same height as Rugo but broader and heavier. His two companions cracked their knuckles, smirking. 

Rugo squared his shoulders, “this is a free field. We can play wherever we want,” he said. 

The scarred baboon chuckled, low and slow, “did you hear that?” He glanced at his friends, smirking, “now he can talk.” 

The others laughed. 

“Think you’re strong now, huh?” The leader stepped closer, his grin sharpening. 

Rugo stood his ground. He met the bully’s gaze, refusing to back down. 

“You think you can take me down now, huh?” the lead bully said menacingly. Rugo kept quiet. 

“How many times have I beaten you for disrespect, boy?” he asked, his friends standing behind him, watching. Ram did not dare to move. He clutched the ball tightly, his face masked with fear. 

The lead bully turned to his friends, “remind me—how many times have I beaten this fool? Three, four...?” he was asking. 

“Five times,” one of his friends interrupted. “You’ve beaten him five times.” The others burst into laughter. 

The lead bully turned back to Rugo. “See? I’ve beaten you five times. And last time, I told you—you’re not welcome here at this hour.” 

Rugo’s chest rose and fell heavily, his anger barely contained. 

Then, the bully shifted his attention. He turned to Ram and stepped away from Rugo. 

All the while, Kame watched from above. He just sat on the branch, unbothered, unmoved and unhinged, biting into his guava. The big baboons had not noticed him yet. 

Without warning, the lead bully lunged forward, snatching the ball from Ram’s hands. 

“Hey!” Ram protested, reaching for it, but the bully tossed it over his head to one of his companions. 

“Oops,” the second bully said, grinning as he caught the ball effortlessly. 

Rugo leaped to snatch it back, but the ball was already airborne, sailing over him. He stumbled forward, kicking up a cloud of dust as the older baboons laughed hard. 

“Give it back!” Rugo snarled, clenching his fists. 

The lead bully held the ball inches from Rugo’s face. “Oh, you want it? Say please,” he mocked. 

Rugo’s jaw tightened. He refused to beg. 

“Tsk, tsk,” the lead bully clicked his tongue “looks like someone needs a lesson.” 

Faster than anyone could react, he grabbed Rugo’s arm and shoved him against a tree trunk. The younger baboon gasped, eyes widening as the rough bark scraped against his back. Kame never moved, never flinched. His face was expressionless as he took another bite of his guava. 

Ram lunged forward, “leave him alone!” he demanded. 

The bully turned, catching Ram’s hand mid-air. Effortlessly twisting Ram’s arm behind his back, he grinned, “aww, the little hero. Trying to save his brother?” He tightened his grip, making Ram wince. 

Rugo tried to get himself up, but the other two bullies loomed over him. One bent over, nudging him in the chest, “and what do you think you can do?” he sneered. 

High above, Kame took another bite of his guava, watching. 

One of the bullies glanced up, then did a double take. His sneer faltered for half a second. 

“Hey—” he nudged his leader, “look up there. The… the animal one," he said. 

Their leader followed his gaze. His smirk tightened slightly. 

Kame sat still, his eyes locked on them, chewing. Slow. Unbothered. Unmoved.  

Without breaking eye contact, he took a bite of his guava. 

The leader shifted, “well, well,” he muttered, “watching, little one? Want to come down and join your friends?” 

Kame didn’t move. He took the final bite, tossing the core aside. The plucked another guava. 

He took a bite. 

Then he chewed. 

Slow. Deliberate. Unbothered. 

The bully narrowed his eyes, waiting. There was a moment of silence. Kame took another bite, without a word. 

Something in that silence unsettled the leader. His grip on Ram slackened slightly. He forced a laugh, “that’s what I thought,” he muttered. Then, he let go of Ram. 

Instead of returning the ball, he spun it in his hands and launched it deep into the bushes. 

“Oops,” his smirk widened, “looks like you will be going on a treasure hunt boys," he said. 

With that, the three bullies turned and walked off, laughing. 

Ram stood there, slowly rubbing his arm. Rugo sat up, leaning against the tree trunk. He dusted himself off, his face burning with humiliation. 

Kame climbed down from his tree, approaching them. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

Rugo looked up at Kame, his eyes wet with anger, "we don’t need your help. You’re not one of us, go eat your guavas," he snapped, his voice sharp as he pushed himself off the tree trunk.  

**Ram wiped his face, eyes still wet, “just go away,” he muttered. 

Kame did not leave. He stood there, watching them, still chewing his guava. Rugo got up, checked himself, his shirt was torn in the bark. 

Rugo started walking. Ram joined him. They were walking home. 

Kame followed behind them, slowly, still chewing his guava. They were all silent, their shadows walking along them. 

When they were almost home, Rugo suddenly stopped and spun around, "if you dare say a word," he hissed, "you will face it rough!" 

“I will not say anything, that is your business,” Kame said. 

“Swear it!” Ram demanded. 

“I swear,” Kame said. They looked at him intensely and then carried on walking. Kame followed behind, the sun was setting as they neared the house. 

At dinner, Kame sat quietly, pushing his food around his plate, barely taking a bite. The room was warm with the scent of roasted fruit but Kame’s mind was elsewhere. Amal, seated beside him, noticed. 

“Kame, you’re not eating. What’s wrong?” she asked. 

Rugo and Ram froze. Their spoons hovered mid-air, eyes darting toward Kame, bodies stiff with panic. 

Kame said nothing. 

Then, in a low, measured voice, he muttered, “you know… bullies don’t like it when they get bullied back.” 

Rugo choked on his drink. Ram’s fingers tensed—his fork slipped from his grasp, clattering onto the table. 

Mono and Kuya glanced up, puzzled, "you two alright?" 

Amal’s sharp eyes flicked between them, sensing something deeper, “Kame… what do you mean?” 

Rugo forced a loud, fake laugh, “oh, you know Kame! Always saying weird things.” 

He kicked him under the table. 

Kame took another slow bite of his food. He didn’t flinch. 

Amal noticed. She kept quiet, watching, then carried on eating. 

That night, Kame lay awake, tracing the shifting shadows on the ceiling. The scene from the field replayed in his mind. 

He sat up, crossing the room to the window. The moon hung heavy in the sky, bathing the land in silver light. His face was split between shadow and glow. 

He murmured to himself, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I’ll teach them a lesson.” His voice was quiet, but firm. 

His fingers curled against the wooden sill. 

Outside, the wind howled. The trees swayed. The night listened. 

EzroniX Kids.