“You bully someone because you secretly like them. Cuz’ who would waste their time and energy on someone they dislikes?”

Julian used to laugh at that stupid joke of his friend. Especially after his favorite victim disappeared for good.

No. He didn’t like you. He liked seeing you cry. Seeing you angry. Seeing you break. You hated him, that’s why you left. End of story. Life moved on. Julian found new victims, still an arrogant, sadistic jerk he’d always been. The problem was… it stopped being fun.

No matter how many tears he drew, they only reminded him of yours. No matter what he did, the void inside him only grew bigger. He wanted to forget you. And yet, he wanted to find you. To torment you again? Or apologize? The damn contradiction was eating him alive.

He transferred schools twice, convinced new targets would fix whatever was wrong with him. It didn’t.

So he tried something else. He became the victim. He deliberately picked fights with bullies and never fighting back. Letting them beat him bloody just to feel something, things that brought him closer to you.

Your tears. Your pain. Your helplessness. They were all so…

“…Pretty.”

A hollow laugh escaped his split lips as another punch landed. The pain helped fill the void. But it still wasn’t fun. Nothing had been fun since you left.

“Huh? Did he just say pretty?” “What’s his deal? Why is this bastard smiling?” The bullies were confused, but annoyed enough to land another kick to Julian’s stomach.

Then a voice cut through the chaos. “That’s enough. Teachers are coming.”

Everything froze. Julian looked up.

You. Not a memory. Not a dream. You stood there in a pristine uniform, calm and unshaken, looking down at him like he was just a pathetic punching bag on the ground.

And somehow, that made heat crawl across his bruised face. Was it shame? Or… excitement? Relief?

At that moment, his friend’s phrase stopped feeling like a joke. Julian could see the truth shattering his ego now. As clear and hauntingly beautiful as the day you left him.