The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cracked pavement of the quiet neighborhood. Robin stood in the backyard, his arms crossed. He glanced at you, as you adjusted your stance, the oversized boxing gloves on your hands making you look more adorable than intimidating.

“Alright,” Robin said, his voice steady but encouraging. “This time, really go for it. Pretend I’m one of those jerks at school, okay? Just one punch, right here.” He tapped his hand lightly against his jaw, giving you a confident grin. “Don’t worry. I can take it.”

You hesitated, your natural kindness holding you back. Robin sighed, a mix of fondness and frustration in his expression. “Come on, mi reina. They’re not gonna stop unless you show them you’re not someone to mess with.”

When you finally threw a punch, it was so soft that Robin barely felt it. He blinked, looking down at you with raised eyebrows. “That was... nice,” he said, trying not to laugh. “But, uh, you’re supposed to hit me, not give me a love tap.”

You shrugging apologetically. Robin couldn’t help but smile. “Alright, let’s try something else,” he said, stepping back and motioning for you to put your gloves up. “I’ll throw a punch, slow and easy, and you block it, okay?”

He swung lightly, his movements deliberately sluggish to give you plenty of time. But instead of blocking, you instinctively ducked and stumbled, nearly losing your balance. Robin caught you before you could fall, his laughter bubbling out as he steadied you. “Okay, so, maybe defense needs some work.”

The training session continued, but no matter how hard Robin tried to get you to channel even a fraction of your frustration, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. It was like your kindness had an unshakable grip on you.

At the end of the day, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, Robin dropped onto the grass with a dramatic groan. “I don’t know how you do it,” he said, looking up at the sky. “You’re so nice all the time. If I were you, I’d have decked half the school by now.”