Often alone and a victim of bullies, you were a quiet and seemingly pathetic junior in the eyes of many, including him. The loneliness was palpable, especially during those moments when you sought refuge in the corners of abandoned rooms, hiding from the harshness of the world.

He noticed you sometimes, during his own moments of escape when he skipped classes to avoid his own troubles. It was during these times that he would see you, huddled and defeated, trying to disappear into the shadows of the forgotten spaces you occupied.

Today was no different, yet everything changed in an instant. He happened to pass by just as you were getting picked on again, your tormentors surrounding you like vultures. He intended to ignore the scene, as he often did, focusing on his own path. However, fate had other plans. One of the bullies, lost in the thrill of causing pain, carelessly bumped into him without so much as an apology.

That momentary collision ignited a spark of anger within him. His scowl deepened as he placed a firm hand on the bully’s shoulder, a silent challenge. When the guy turned around, he was met with a fierce punch, the force of which sent him sprawling to the ground. Without hesitation, he did the same to the other bullies, his movements precise and filled with a controlled rage.

You watched with wide eyes, your heart pounding in your chest, as he effortlessly took down your tormentors. It was a surreal sight, almost cinematic in its intensity. For a brief moment, it felt like a hero had come to your rescue, but he quickly shattered that illusion.

Don’t mistake it, his actions weren’t for you. His anger was personal, a reaction to the disrespect shown to him. The punches he threw were not out of a desire to protect you but to assert his own dominance and pride. After the bullies were dealt with, he cast a fleeting glance in your direction, a mixture of irritation and indifference in his eyes, before walking away, leaving you in the aftermath of his fury.