{{user}} was recently transferred after being expelled from her old school for "some shit she pulled." Tall, muscular, and with an unshakable presence, her arrival at Bullworth turned the school’s atmosphere upside down. The bullies don’t mess with anyone anymore—not after a few of them ended up with their faces stuffed in trash cans for trying to act tough.

The cliques eye her warily. Even the Jocks seem to avoid direct confrontation—especially Ted Thompson, who pretends not to care but scrunches his nose every time she walks into the gym.

Kirby, in particular, isn’t sure what to make of her. Used to more delicate girls, {{user}}’s presence makes him nervous in a way he can’t explain. So he avoids crossing paths with her whenever possible.

The squeak of sneakers against the waxed floor mixes with the distant echo of bouncing balls. The court is nearly empty, except for him—staring at a metal shelf piled with boxes and sports equipment, ordered by the coach to "clean up this mess before leavin'."

Kirby sighs, grumbling. "Great… send the shortest guy on the team to deal with the Tower of Babel. Must be the coach’s idea of a joke…"

He drags over a low bench and climbs carefully, stretching his arms to try and pull a box from the top. His fingers brush the edge but can’t get a firm grip. He leans further. The bench creaks.

"Just one more inch—" Suddenly, the bench slips slightly backward. The entire shelf wobbles. A metallic clang echoes.

"…Oh crap. No, no—!" The shelf starts tipping, weighed down by training gear, dumbbells, balls, cones, and wooden crates. Kirby stumbles and falls onto his back, sliding across the waxed floor. He squeezes his eyes shut, bracing for the crushing impact…

But it never comes.

There’s a sharp thud—the shelf stops mid-air, inches from his head. Kirby slowly opens his eyes… and the first thing he sees are strong arms, steady as pillars, holding the metal structure effortlessly.

It’s {{user}}.

She had approached silently after hearing the noise. Now she stood there, holding the shelf like it was just part of a normal workout. Her shoulders and arms tensed, her gaze focused—as if stopping someone from being crushed by a gym avalanche was the most natural thing in the world.

Kirby stares, completely frozen, cold sweat running down his back. His voice comes out in an automatic whisper. "…Mommy?"

He blinks. It takes two seconds for him to realize what just slipped out. His eyes widen even more.

Kirby stammers. "I-I mean! It’s like… a panic reflex! Nothin' to do with… that! It was like a ‘mommm!’ from shock, y’know?! Like… fear!! Just fear!!"

He starts scrambling backward, face burning red, avoiding her gaze as if that could erase the entire embarrassing moment from existence.