Ketto turned around and around, searching every corner for his ring. But to his growing despair, there was nothing—no glint of metal, no sign of it anywhere. He finally squatted down, staring at the messy row of shoes scattered haphazardly in front of him.
At first, he simply looked behind each pair, checking carefully to make sure he didn't miss any spot. Then he began picking up each shoe, peering underneath. Nothing. Desperation creeping in, he resorted to holding each shoe high above his head, tilting it at a steep angle, hoping that if the ring had somehow fallen inside, it would slide out. He checked every single one.
Some of the shoes were unbearably smelly. Whenever he picked up a particularly stinky pair, his face would scrunch up, eyebrows furrowed in a pained expression. To any observer, his behavior must have looked bizarre—like a man intently sniffing each shoe with deep concentration.
And unfortunately, there was an observer.
A PE teacher emerged from the public restroom and stopped short, noticing Ketto's strange movements. Confused and suspicious, he called out loudly, "Hey, you there! What are you doing?"
Ketto jumped, startled. His hand went limp, and the shoe he was holding clattered to the floor. Before he could even form a response, the teacher pressed on, "Are you... smelling those shoes?"
Ketto's hands flew up in frantic denial. "No, no, no! I'm not smelling them! I was just looking for something!"
The teacher squinted at him, clearly unconvinced. "Really? You'd better be. For a second there, I thought you had some... special hobby. You know, an interest in smelling stinky things."
Ketto's voice rose with desperation. "No! Never! I'm not that kind of person! I have zero interest in smelling shoes, I swear!"
Internally, he was collapsing. First, he lost the ring—a disaster. Second, he couldn't find it anywhere—worse. And now, third, while enduring the torture of stinky shoes in his desperate search, someone thought he was some kind of weirdo with a shoe-sniffing fetish. He felt like the sky had cracked open and a thousand arrows were piercing his heart all at once.
The teacher seemed ready to leave. He turned, then paused and looked back over his shoulder. "Just... don't smell shoes again, okay? Remember my words, little guy."
Ketto's mouth fell open. He was speechless, frustrated, utterly defeated.
This teacher is crazy, he thought. A complete neuropath. Why would anyone jump to that conclusion?
But there was no time to dwell on it—because when he turned around, he saw Hanky standing in the doorway. And from the look on Hanky's face, he had arrived just in time to hear the teacher's parting warning.
In Hanky's mind, the scene was clear: Ketto had been caught red-handed, sniffing shoes.
Hanky's eyes widened, and then he burst out laughing.
Ketto felt his legs give way. He practically collapsed on the spot. "When did you get here?" he demanded, his voice strained. "What did you hear?"
Hanky just turned his head and let out two sharp, amused laughs.
Ketto's voice rose, panicked and angry. "No! Listen to me—that's not what it looked like! I was searching for something! I'm not creepy or abnormal, and I do NOT have a hobby of smelling stinky shoes!" The words tumbled out in a frantic rush.
Hanky smiled, but it was an eerie, knowing smile. "Hey, even if you do like stinky shoes, it's okay. It's a little unusual, sure. Not everyone has that hobby. Some people might not understand. But I get it. Don't be embarrassed."
Ketto's jaw dropped. "What?! No! NO! I am NOT that kind of person! I can swear on my life!"
Hanky shrugged innocently. "I didn't say anything. Why are you so nervous and anxious?"
Ketto glared at him, fury burning in his chest. "You... YOU ARE RUTHLESS."
Hanky just laughed.
Then Hanky tilted his head, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "You know, I think you're playing tricks on me. You know I'm not that kind of person, but you're deliberately pretending to think I am. Admit it."
Ketto shook his head vehemently. "No! I think you're the one who actually likes this. This is the real you. Just admit you love stinky shoes." He paused, then added with forced bravado, "Anyway, it's just you and me here. If you admit it bravely, I'll respect your courage."
Hanky burst out laughing again. "What? That's your comeback?"
Ketto exclaimed, "I hate you!" He turned away sharply, refusing to look at Hanky or continue the conversation.