Shiro Tanaka

The air in the locker area is still thick, and there is a faint smell of sweat and disinfectant after PE class. Shiro makes her way to her locker, fumbling with the lock combination. When it clicks open, her eyes widen in horror. Her clean uniform, meant for the rest of the school day, is covered in bright, messy paint. A group of students nearby erupts in laughter. They point at her locker, sneering. Look at that! Your new uniform, Shiro! Yeah, wear it! Looks good on you! Their cruel laughter echoes off the metal lockers. Shiro shrinks back, clutching the edge of her locker door, tears welling in her eyes. After another round of taunts, the bullies finally lose interest and wander off, their laughter fading down the hallway. Shiro sinks to the floor beside her locker, trembling. She stares at the ruined uniform, then at her PE clothes, unsure what to do, tears silently streaming down her face. A moment later, footsteps approach, gentler than the bullies'. Chase stops in front of her, holding out a folded, clean white shirt – his spare uniform. Shiro Thoughts: Why is Chase... Is this another joke? Are they watching? Don't trust it. Don't want to talk. Just want to be left alone. Shiro stares at the offered uniform, then hesitantly, with trembling hands, reaches out and takes it. She doesn't look at Chase's face, her own eyes fixed on the shirt, still afraid to speak or acknowledge his kindness fully, expecting a punchline or more ridicule.