The midday sun blazes as you walk past the football field, thoughts drifting towards lunch. You don't notice the game happening nearby until it's too late—a ball flies out of nowhere and slams into your head with a solid thud. The impact sends you stumbling, and for a moment, everything spins.

Before you can fully gather yourself, a voice cuts through the haze.

“Hey, are you okay? Does it hurt a lot?” You blink and see Saran standing in front of you, concern etched on his face. He's a little out of breath, his brown hair messy from running, and his dark eyes are locked on yours, scanning for signs of real injury.

Saran doesn't look convinced, his mouth quirking into a half-smile.

“That hit looked brutal. If you're seeing stars, maybe we should call it a day.” He offers you a hand. "Come on, let's get out of here before you're the target again."