Ren slid the door open, stepping inside. Conversations dulled for a second, then picked up again, voices lower, glances stolen from the corners of eyes.
He ignored them, making his way to his seat. The chair scraped softly against the floor as he dropped into it.
Kenta approached.
"Hey, uh… Ren."
Ren didn't bother looking up.
Kenta shifted awkwardly. "I… uh heard about your family….." A pause. "I'm sorry, man."
Ren exhaled slowly. "Yeah?" His tone was flat. "And?"
Kenta frowned. "I just—"
"I don't need your pity."
Kenta's expression stayed even. He just nodded. "Cool."
Ren frowned, unsure what he was even supposed to say to that.
Kenta leaned casually against the edge of Ren's desk, arms crossed. "Look, man… I know things have been rough." His voice was quieter now, more careful. "If you ever need to vent or whatever, just know I'm here."
Ren scoffed under his breath, eyes drifting toward the window.
He didn't mean to be cruel. It was just that everything felt so far away. Like the world had kept moving forward while he stayed frozen in place.
Kenta didn't push. He just shrugged and backed off. "See you later, man."
With that, he left the room.
Ren sat there, fingers curling tighter around his pen. His grip was stiff, knuckles pale.
Then—slowly—he exhaled.
The pen loosened.
A smudge of ink spread quietly across the bottom corner of his notebook.
The day crawled on.
Ren barely heard the teacher's voice. The words turned into static at the edge of his awareness. Chalk scraped faintly against the board. Desks creaked. Pages turned.
He stared blankly at his textbook.
Didn't write.
Didn't look up.
Didn't even move.
His mind wasn't here. It hadn't been all day.
The bell finally rang.
A flurry of bags zipping, chairs dragging. The classroom emptied fast. Everyone wanted out—some to club activities, others to cram school or the convenience store.
Ren gathered his things slowly, almost methodically. He didn't want to be seen. Didn't want to talk.
He was halfway to the door when—
"Oi, Ren."
His name, sharp and loud, cut across the hall.
Ren stopped.
Sho.
He stood just outside the classroom with two of his usual friends flanking him, leaning against the lockers like they owned the corridor.
Ren's steps slowed. "…What do you want?"
Sho cocked his head to the side, fake innocence in his grin. "What do I want? You serious? Don't act like you don't know."
Ren exhaled, already tired. "I'm not in the mood. Move."
Sho's grin faded into something colder. He stepped closer, tone dropping. "Oh, you're not in the mood? Tough shit, creep. Aiko told me how you were all over her, staring like some stalker. You think she doesn't notice when losers like you can't keep their eyes to themselves?"
People were watching now.
Students slowed, some pretending to check their phones while sneaking glances. The energy in the hall shifted—an audience forming, tension crackling.
Ren's expression didn't budge. "I bumped into her. I apologized. That's it. Now get out of my way."
Sho let out a sharp laugh. "Bumped into her? That's what you're going with? Man, you're pathetic. Hiding behind that quiet act like it makes you interesting. You're just a creep."
A ripple of laughter spread through the gathered crowd.
Someone muttered, "Sho's really going in."
Another whispered, "Think he's gonna hit him?"
Ren's jaw tightened, but he didn't move.
"Say whatever you want," he said quietly. "Just leave me alone."
Sho stepped closer—too close now. His voice dropped low, every syllable soaked in venom. "What, no mommy and daddy to come bail you out anymore?"
The hallway went dead silent.
"Or are they too busy rotting in the dirt?"
Someone gasped.
"Holy shit…"
Another voice, quieter, uncertain—"You didn't have to say that…"
But no one stopped it.
No one stepped forward.
No one did anything.
Ren's breath hitched.
His pulse thundered in his ears, pounding so hard it blurred the sounds around him. The hallway melted into noise and haze, his body frozen—but something inside snapped.
Badump.
Sho was still smirking—thinking he'd won.
Badump.
Ren's eyes locked on him, unfocused, wild.
Badump.
He couldn't breathe.
Couldn't think.
Badump—
Sho didn't even see it coming.
CRACK.
Ren's fist collided with his jaw. The sound was raw and awful, knuckles crunching against bone.
Sho's body staggered back, his mouth hanging open in shock just before he collapsed onto the floor.
A hush swept over the crowd.
No one moved.
No one laughed.
Ren didn't stop.
He lunged.
He landed on top of Sho's stunned body and began swinging—again. And again. And again. Each punch sharper, heavier, more brutal than the last. His fists came down fast, fueled by rage, panic, memory—by the blood and guts and screams that hadn't stopped replaying in his head.
"REN, STOP—!!"
Someone screamed.
Sho's face was already bloodied, arms barely lifted in time to shield himself. His friends shouted—too scared to interfere.
More students rushed over. Phones out. Filming.
"Someone get a teacher!!"
"He's gonna kill him—!"
Still, Ren kept swinging.
His knuckles split. His arms shook. His eyes were wide and unfocused, his breath ragged. Blood stained his hands, Sho's nose clearly broken now, a tooth possibly knocked loose.
Then—
"REN KUROSE!!"
A voice barked out, sharp as a whipcrack.
A strong arm yanked him back, another gripping his shoulder hard.
A teacher—Mr. Sakamoto, tall and broad—forced himself between the two boys, shielding Sho with his body as another teacher rushed over.
"Get him to the nurse's office now!" the second teacher yelled to Sho's friends.
Ren's chest heaved. His hands were trembling, his eyes glazed with something raw and hollow. He didn't resist as Mr. Sakamoto dragged him back, still gripping his collar tightly.
Students backed away as they passed, murmurs spreading like wildfire.
"He snapped…"
"Did you see his eyes?"
"He looked like he wasn't even there…"
As the hallway cleared, Sho's groans were barely audible beneath the ringing in Ren's ears.