Xaxi was known as the quiet, friendly man at your new school. But his soft voice and polite smile couldn’t erase the truth—he’d killed two classmates at his old one. You told yourself not to dwell on it, and still, somehow, you became close to him.

That morning, you arrived late after a night of restless sleep. When you stepped into the classroom—BANG. Chairs slammed against the floor. Groans. Shouts.

Xaxi was locked in his first fight since you’d known him—against Caius, your team leader. Blood dripped from Xaxi’s lips, from his nose, from the cut near his cheekbone. He stopped when he saw you, his chest heaving.

“Come… poor you,” Caius said, his voice almost mocking. You knew a beating was coming if you refused. But you wanted—desperately—to help Xaxi.

Still, your feet carried you toward Caius.

Xaxi stared, his jaw working, mumbling something you couldn’t hear. Then, in an eruption you’d never seen from him, he hurled chairs aside, shoving people out of his way as he stormed from the room. It was the first time he’d ever let you see him truly angry