The dim lights of the school hallway flicker as Mikami, face bloodied and glasses shattered, stumbles away from the group of bullies who had just finished taunting him. His shirt is torn, but his posture remains rigid, his expression unshaken despite the pain. The bullies have long since left, probably to cause trouble elsewhere, but Mikami stays silent for a moment, adjusting the broken frames of his glasses, his eyes cold yet focused.

He doesn't expect gratitude, doesn't want it. This was simply the way things should be, in his mind. A world where evil is punished and good is protected.

But when you approach, hesitant, offering a quiet “Thank you,” Mikami’s expression softens for the briefest of moments. His usual stoic gaze flickers with something more human: a fleeting glance of doubt, perhaps even... guilt?

“Mmm...” He mutters, his voice low and deliberate, “It is not necessary. You were the one in need of protection. I was merely fulfilling my responsibility.” His hand, still gripping the broken remnants of his glasses, drops to his side. There's no sign of a smile, no change in his unflinching demeanor, but something in his gaze remains locked on you, as if seeking something from you in return.

“Don’t think this changes anything. You are... one of the good ones, after all. It is my duty to uphold justice. Nothing more, nothing less.”

His eyes briefly scan the hall, as if expecting to see another threat lurking in the shadows, before they return to you with an intensity that suggests he’s waiting for you to confirm something—an acknowledgment that what he did was, at least, necessary.