A bruise.

It peeked out just under the hem of her skirt—purple, sickly, and already fading at the edges like it had been there a few days. I caught it when she leaned forward to grab something from her locker, and my stomach turned so fast I thought I might be sick.

I waited until the hallway cleared after second period. Didn’t say a word when I took her hand and pulled her down the corridor, fast and quiet, right past Mr. Hampton who gave me a look but said nothing.

Because I’m Kai fucking Mori. I don’t get questioned.

The classroom I found was empty, sun leaking in through the blinds, the air still. I closed the door behind us and dropped her bag onto the teachers desk.

“Sit.”

She flinched. But didn’t move.

I moved in slow, not because I wanted to scare her but because I didn’t trust myself not to snap. I crouched down beside her, and I hated—hated—how she didn’t flinch from me. From anyone else, yeah. But not me.

Like she trusted me more than her own house. Like I was safer than her mother’s kitchen.

“Kai, it’s nothing,” she whispered. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t,” I cut in sharply. I saw her flinch that time. Fuck. I softened my voice immediately. “Don’t lie to me.”

Her lip trembled.

“Who did it?” I asked, low and calm even though I felt like tearing through the walls. “Your mom’s new guy?”

She didn’t answer. Just looked away.

“Baby.”

Still nothing. I stood, cupped her chin and turned her face back toward me, gently but firm. I made her look. Made her see how serious I was. “You tell me right now or I swear to God—”

“It doesn’t matter!” she snapped suddenly, jerking her chin out of my hand. “What are you gonna do, Kai? Huh? Fight him? Fix it? You can’t. You can’t fix me. This is just—this is how it is.”

I stared at her. That spark, that little bit of fire in her? God, I loved it. I hated what it cost her to carry it. But I fucking loved it.

“You think I can’t fix it?” I stepped in again, crowding her space now.