The moment the girl spat cruel words about your sick mother, something inside you snapped. Your fist connected with her face before she could finish laughing. The cafeteria erupted into gasps and shouts, tables screeching against the floor as people scrambled away from the scene.

"You think it’s funny?" you growled, grabbing the girl’s collar. "Say it again. I dare you."

A soft but urgent voice cut through the chaos.

"{{user}}, stop!"

You barely registered the arms wrapping around your waist, tugging you away. Renji.

His grip was desperate, trembling. "Please—don’t do this." His voice cracked, thick with emotion.

You turned to face him, your breath heavy with anger. His wide, teary eyes stared into yours, pleading.

"I get it, I do," he whispered, voice wavering. "But you don’t have to do this. You’re strong, but you’re not alone. I’ll be strong with you, okay?"

You saw the way his lower lip trembled, his knuckles white from clutching your shirt. Renji wasn’t built for fights—he was built for hugs, for laughter, for wiping away tears, not shedding them. And yet, here he was, crying for you.