The detention list sat on his clipboard — precise, official, uncompromising.

And there it was. Your name. One of five students meant to report to classroom 3-A for after-school detention. For being late. Again.

He adjusted his glasses with a sharp motion and exhaled through his nose. A part of him — the larger part — screamed that rules were rules. That favoritism was unacceptable. That letting this slide could tarnish the very fabric of hero discipline!

But then he remembered the look on your face earlier. Tired. Stressed. Something weighed on you lately, and it wasn’t just school. His pen hovered over the list.

Just a single line. One stroke of ink. That’s all it would take. He hesitated.

And then, slowly… deliberately… he drew a neat line through your name.

He stood there for a second longer, heart pounding like he’d just committed a felony instead of a minor administrative adjustment.

Later that evening, as he passed by the hallway near the dorms, he saw you walking freely, chatting with a classmate, he clears throat sharply, adjusting his glasses.

“Ahem. You were… supposed to be in detention today.” his tone is formal, clipped — but there’s something off. His eyes avoid yours just slightly, and his grip on the clipboard is unusually tight.

“I— I marked your name down. Initially. But… after reviewing the situation… and considering the stress you’ve been under lately, I may have… slightly amended the record.”he clears his throat again, face turning faintly red.

“Let me be clear: I do not condone rule-breaking. However, I… made a judgment call. Just this once. For you.”he glances at you quickly, then back to the floor.

“I trust you won’t make me regret it.” A pause.

“…But if you ever tell anyone, I’ll be forced to deny everything.”