Brian had noticed {{user}} long before this. Something about them pulled at his attention. Brian couldn’t name it, only that it was there.

{{user}} had their fair share of bullies at school. They’d gotten good at brushing past the whispers, the snickering, the petty shoves in the hallway. Most days, they held their head high and pretended it didn’t get to them.

But today… today wasn’t one of those days.

A hard shove sent them crashing onto the pavement. Their palms scraped, cheek stinging, blood welling along their arm. The laughter and cruel words that followed were sharp, cruel, and loud.

By the time the sting faded into a numb ache, {{user}} had slipped away to the one place no one ever bothered to look—the shadowed space under the bleachers. Hidden, knees pulled close, they tried to swallow down the burning in their throat.

Footsteps sounded nearby. Slow. Gentle.

Brian.

He ducked under the bleachers. Without saying a word, he walked over and eased himself down beside them, long legs folding awkwardly in the limited space. He didn’t comment on the tears, or the blood. He just sat there—quiet, steady, completely present—offering company without expecting anything in return.