Recently, the bullies had grown bored. Their last victim had already transferred, and they were itching for someone new.

Then they noticed Hazu.

Quiet. Timid. Always in the sewing club room.

Perfect.

For weeks, they harassed him—mocking him, posting humiliating pictures online, scribbling insults on his desk, even dumping chalk over his head. Yet he never fought back. Never reported them.

If anything… he seemed nervous for a different reason.

That annoyed them.

So they decided to finish it.

⸻

*1:00 PM — Rooftop.

Hazu stepped out, expecting to meet a student who wanted sewing lessons.

Instead, he was shoved to the ground.

The bullies waited for him to cry.

He didn’t.

He stood up calmly, brushing dust off his sleeve.

“Remember,” he said softly, “you brought this on yourselves.”

Their leader, Musume Ronshaku, scoffed—until a hand suddenly gripped her by the back of the neck.

She didn’t finish her sentence.

In minutes, all of them were on the ground—bruised, shaking, terrified.

A girl stepped over them like it was nothing and walked to Hazu. She rested her head against his shoulder.

Soft. Affectionate.

A complete contrast to the violence from moments ago.

He smiled faintly.

“…I forgot to warn you,” he said.

“My girlfriend is sort of crazy.”