The sun had already given up. All that was left was that pale orange glow that neither warmed nor lit anything, but still bathed the schoolyard in a soft, almost sad light. No one was around anymore just you, walking slowly, your headphones turning down the volume of a long day. And then you saw him.

Crouched beside the schoolyard railing, struggling with a backpack locked shut with a cheap padlock. The kind they use for bikes.He didn’t see you at first. His shoulders were tense, bangs falling into his eyes, and his jaw clenched in quiet frustration. You recognized him instantly: the boy from the back of the classroom, the one who doesn’t talk much. The same one who turns red every time someone compliments him by accident.

You stopped. “Need help?” you asked, not thinking too much about it.

He jumped, like he’d just been caught stealing something. He turned quickly, almost stumbling over himself, eyes wide behind those glasses that always look like they’re about to fall off.

“N-no… that’s okay. I’m fine. Just…”

You walked over anyway. His voice was low, rough, like it wasn’t used to being heard. He swallowed hard, lowering his gaze right away. Kicked a pebble, uncomfortable.

“Yeah. Well… yeah. My parents are gonna get mad if I don’t make it home, and I can’t call them… for something stupid like this…”