The next morning, when Noah Park arrived at school, everything went by the usual script. He wiped graffiti off his desk, put his things away carefully, and avoided looking anyone in the eye.
Look at any of the boys and he'd get beat up for giving "disgusting looks." Lock eyes with any of the girls and he'd get hit for being "too attractive" or "a pest."
He did his best to follow the lessons. He could not afford failing grades; his mother worked hard to send him to a decent school despite the troublemakers.
As the day wore on, the mocks and taunts came as expected. Oddly, though, no one had laid a hand on him today — at least not yet. After the final bell, the school emptied and Noah started to leave.
"Phew, not today, huh?" he thought, and that was when the wind cut out and he heard voices coming from a nearby shed. He crept closer, pressed his ear to the door, and listened. The voices fell silent.
The door slid open and three students stepped out — two of them from yesterday. Noah's footfalls must have given him away.
"Oh, well, would you look who it is..." one sneered. The other added, "Noah Park! Our favorite. Why don't you come on in for a second?"
Noah spun to run, but hands closed on his collar and shoved him into the shed. His head hit a table.
He rubbed the back of his skull and opened his eyes to see the three boys grinning. Beside him lay another classmate, huge and, by Noah's standards, ugly as sin.
"W-why are you doing this to me? I did nothing wrong. I didn't even see what you guys were doing until you pulled me in here!" Noah blurted.
One of them raised an eyebrow, trying to look tough. "Ooh? Like we'd believe that," he scoffed. "You know, my girlfriend — or rather my soon-to-be girlfriend — has had her eye on you lately. So naturally, my fist is just itching to have a little chat with your face."
He drove a punch into Noah's cheek. A red knuckle print bloomed.
"Jeez, you really do have a hard face," the boy said, rubbing his knuckles.
Noah didn't answer. He only looked at the boy on the floor. They'd done a number on him: parts of his hair were shaved off, a few fingers looked broken, and his skin was a map of cuts. He lay unconscious, tears drying on his face.
"Well..." the first boy said, rifling a hand along the table behind Noah. "Are you curious about what I'm grabbing, hm?"
He held up a sleek army knife. Metal flashed. Noah's eyes widened and he raised his hands to protect his face.
"There it is, he finally shows fear! But... I don't like that you're hiding your face. Hold his hands down."
The other two grabbed Noah's arms and forced them to his sides. The boy with the knife stepped close and sliced the skin on Noah's cheek. Blood welled and trickled down.
He licked his lips. "Maybe if I mess up your face enough, my girl won't be interested in you anymore. Sound good?"
He pressed deeper, making the cut longer, when a knock sounded on the shed door. The boy with the knife jerked back and hid the blade behind him as he opened the door.
No one stood there. "Phew, I thought we got caught by the teachers," he muttered — and then he was kicked in the side of the head, slammed against the wall, and knocked out.
The other two spun, shouting, "Who are you!?"
A man stepped in and dealt with them with hard, precise kicks to the chin. He looked down at Noah and asked, "Were you a victim, or part of their shenanigans?"
Noah's voice trembled. "S-sorry! I w-was a victim... they cut my face!"
The man scanned Noah, then reached out a hand and helped him up. "Ah — sorry. You're pretty tall, I thought you might be with them. How did kids that size pick on you?"
Noah glanced at the boy on the floor and answered, "Ah, I can't fight back for personal reasons..."
The man called an ambulance for the unconscious boy. "I'm glad my brother called me before things got worse, but I guess I was a little late."
"P-pardon?" Noah stammered.
"The kid on the floor? My brother. I called for help a moment ago. Anyway, I forgot to introduce myself. My name's Soo, Soo Jang. What's yours?"
"Noah Park."
"Cool name. Hey, kid, how about I teach you to fight? I'd love to make you my student!"
Noah's mouth tightened as he remembered the promise he'd made to his mother. "Sorry, I can't."
"Why not? Is it tied to your 'personal reason'?"
"No... well, in a way, yes. I promised my mom I'd never fight, and I don't have money for training..."
"Don't worry about money. I don't need it. Also, fighting and self-defense are different things. You could've been seriously hurt if I hadn't shown up."
Noah thought it over. The man was right — learning to defend himself was not the same as going looking for trouble.
"W-well, I suppose I could, as long as I don't have to pay," he said.
Noah couldn't shake the question: why didn't the man seem to care that the injured boy was his brother?
"Of course," Soo said. "I'm offering. Let's start with boxing."
He gave Noah a small grin. "Meet me tomorrow, after school. Same place. I'll take you down to my gym."
Noah nodded, uncertain if he was breaking his promise. What if his mother found out? Still, he felt a small shift inside him. Things could not stay the same.