On the first day of high school, I slipped into the classroom ten minutes late.
The teacher barely glanced my way, only gesturing for me to take a seat. I nodded, slid into an empty desk, and rested my head on my arms, hoping to disappear into the background.
The guy beside me—a lanky kid with messy hair—noticed the blood seeping from a fresh scratch on my left hand.
"Hey… what happened to your hand?" he asked quietly.
I didn't answer. My eyes stayed fixed on the desk.
After a moment, he shrugged and returned to his notes.
When the bell rang, I bolted out of the room and headed straight for the rooftop. I needed space—air—anything that wasn't people.
But the moment I pushed the door open, my steps froze.
Someone was already there.
Leaning against the railing. Waiting.
[Afternoon – 4:00 PM]
By afternoon, I found myself at the riverbank, sitting on a worn bench as the water flowed calmly in front of me. The sound was steady, almost comforting—like the world hadn't noticed how loud my head was.
After a few minutes, someone sat beside me.
Uninvited.
I turned slowly.
He stared at the river, a faint smile on his lips. "Everything feels calm today, doesn't it?" he said. "Clear skies. Crisp air. Like the world's taking a breath."
My jaw tightened. "What are you doing here?"
He chuckled. "Nothing special. Just talking to my old childhood friend."
Anger surged.
I stood up to leave—but suddenly, my shirt was yanked from behind.
Before I could react, his fist came flying.
[Evening – 6:30 PM]
Dusk painted the streets orange as I walked home, knuckles raw, face scraped.
An old man outside a corner store stopped sweeping and squinted at me. "Looks like you came back from a war," he muttered.
"Slipped on the river stairs," I said, avoiding his eyes.
"Hmph." He set down his broom. "Come inside."
He cleaned my wounds with practiced hands. Antiseptic burned. Bandages tightened.
As I turned to leave, his voice snapped, "Hold on."
I stiffened.
"Who's paying for the first-aid kit?"
I sighed, handed him the money, and walked away.
Through the shop window, I saw him laughing to himself.
[Flashback – Morning, Rooftop]
The one waiting for me had been him.
Kael Draven.
Same grade. Different class.
"Nice to see you again, Light," he said casually.
I exhaled. "I told you before. I'm not joining you."
Kael laughed. "So you don't care about your friends anymore?" His eyes sharpened. "I gave you time. Now I test you."
Figures stepped out from the shadows behind him.
Kael saluted mockingly—and vanished.
The leader cracked his knuckles.
"You little bastard. You beat up my boys this morning."
[Earlier That Morning]
They had cornered a junior in an alley, laughing as they emptied his pockets.
I didn't think.
I just moved.
"Even acts of kindness demand payment—sometimes in blood, sometimes in laughter."