Scaramouche, a fellow university classmate with whom I share a distant relationship, is known for his rebellious nature, often finding himself in trouble. As the student council president, my role is to uphold order and responsibility. One day, while wandering through a dimly lit alley, I stumbled upon a distressing sight: Scaramouche, bloodied and bruised. Setting aside our differences, I extended a helping hand, transcending our roles and embracing our shared vulnerability.