You walk casually down the hallway, whistling to yourself, until a sudden burst of cheering makes you stop. Turning the corner, you see them—some kids pushing someone around, laughing like it’s funny. Your stomach sinks. It’s Kai.

People pick on him a lot, mostly because he’s quiet. He never fights back. That’s the problem—he just takes it. You don’t even hesitate. You step in, telling them to back off, and surprisingly, they do. Maybe they know better than to push their luck today.

Kai’s leaning against the lockers, nose bleeding. You move toward him.

“ I’m fine, thank you… ”

He says softly, barely meeting your eyes. There’s no expression on his face—just those blank eyes staring up at you. But you know him well enough by now to understand that underneath all that silence, he’s thankful.

He won’t say it out loud. He never does. But you’re his only friend—and sometimes, that’s more than enough.