Seth was desperate enough to forget pride. He trailed after Rin like a clingy ex.
"Wait! Fuck—You misunderstood! Just stop for a sec and let me explain. Rin!"
The name came out too familiar, snapping something inside Rin. He stopped so suddenly that Seth almost crashed into his back.
For a breath the corridor seemed to hold still, as if the building itself wanted to hear what came next.
Rin turned, and Seth instantly regretted not letting him go. Whatever softness the boy had worn in the classroom earlier was long gone.
The air cooled around him, enough for the hairs on arms to notice. His eyes were pitch black behind the glass. The stillness that followed did not feel like silence so much as judgment.
Seth opened his mouth, apology already struggling to be born, but Rin's voice arrived first.
"Seth Ban," he said, quiet and flat, "consider this your final warning. Stay away from me. If you see me from a distance, turn around and walk the other way. Don't ever say my name. Don't ever act like you know me. If you dare to appear in front of me again, so help me, I will not stop until you are ruined. Do you understand? Nod twice if you understand."
There was no anger in the voice. That somehow made it worse. It sounded like a rule being read out. Like gravity. Like a contract that already had your signature.
Seth stared at him, a laugh stuck somewhere in his throat, then dying there. He had wooed, flattered, joked, angled himself into walking beside the Paragon heir, and now the floor had opened beneath him.
Something hot and mean bubbled up in his chest, then slid away when he realized every eye on the corridor was on him. He lowered his gaze and nodded twice.
Rin didn't spare him another glance. He turned and walked away, aura receding like a tide, as if the hallway itself was relieved to be rid of him.
The moment he rounded the corner, breath returned to people's lungs in a messy chorus. Somebody coughed. Somebody swore under their breath. Life kicked in again.
Zev did what survival demanded. He bent to retrieve his fallen banana milk with shaky hands and vanish before anyone remembered he existed.
But his fingers had barely brushed the bottle when a hand clamped his shoulder hard, yanked him up, and slammed him into the wall.
The back of his head met concrete with a dull smack. He tasted iron. The world swam in watery circles, the corridor tilting, then lurching back into place.
By the time his vision steadied, Seth's murderous eyes were staring down at him. They were all wrong, glittering with something that had nothing to do with humor.
"This is your fault," he said through his teeth. His fingers dug into Zev's shoulders, thumbs biting in hard enough to bruise.
"That stuck-up bastard misunderstood because of you. Why didn't you say something? I wasn't even bullying you. I was joking. Hey! I am talking to you! Say something, you bitch!"
His voice snapped up by several octaves as his grip tightened, pressing bone against bone.
Zev shook violently, his breath thin and quick. Pain pulsed behind his eyes. He felt the humiliating burn of tears gathering, and he hated that he could feel them. He swallowed hard, found his voice, and pushed it out.
"I–I never did anything to you…" he managed, shaky but undeniably clear. "How is any of this my fault? You made fun of my height. You embarrassed yourself. You got rejected. M–Maybe take responsibility for your actions like a grown person."
For a heartbeat, the corridor went perfectly quiet. Something dark flashed in Seth's gaze. Then his face snapped into a smile that did not touch anywhere near his eyes.
He threw his head back and laughed, loud and empty, the sound scraping down the corridor. It was so unnerving that a few onlookers instinctively stepped back.
"For someone this small, you sure are ballsy," he said, his voice dropping to a soft, dangerous tone. "Let me show you what happens when a dud watches too many cartoons and forgets how the real world works."
Zev's stomach plummeted. Fear reached for his heart with cold, paralyzing fingers. Before he could scramble for a reply, Seth fisted the front of his shirt and violently hauled him away from the wall.
The fabric bit into his throat. His shoes scrabbled for purchase and found none. He clawed at Seth's wrist. It was like trying to pry apart a clamp.
"W–What are you doing?! Hey! S–Stop… Let me go. Please!" Zev begged, and heard with embarrassment how small those words sounded in the open air.
"Stop it!"
His heart hammered so loudly the noise seemed to live inside his ears. The corridor walls pressed in with each step they took.
Then, Seth stopped walking and smiled. It wasn't kind. It wasn't even convincing. It was the smile of a boy who had decided to enjoy something no one else would.
"Oh, you want me to let go," he said, his voice as pleasant as a clerk's. "Fine. I'll let go~"
The look in his eyes changed. Zev saw it and still could not prepare. The little warning clicks in his brain fired, but too late.
"Here,"
Seth said, tightening his hold, almost crushing the fabric against Zev's neck.
"You,"
He added, hoisting Zev effortlessly off the ground.
"Go!" he finished, and threw.
The moment stretched like gum. Then it snapped.
"Ah—!"
Zev hit the wall with a sickening thud. The sound drew a thin scream from someone in the crowd. He slid down and folded onto the floor. Air left him in a rush and did not return.
His chest worked and found nothing. He could not see for a second. Black flecks crawled across his vision. He coughed, then coughed again, then finally dragged in a breath that hurt.
Seth pointed down at him and cackled so loudly a teacher three corridors over probably paused. He turned to his friends as if inviting them to admire a painting.
"Did you see that?!" he wheezed. "He flew like a soccer ball! That was insane haha. Hey, little man. How much do you weigh? Do your parents even feed you?"
His friends laughed because people liked to laugh in packs. The cackling was not unanimous. It was loud, yes, but there were pockets in the crowd where faces had drawn tight and mouths had flattened with anger.
Some students looked away. Some stared hard. A few murmured.
"Sickos…"
"What the hell is wrong with him?! How could he do that to a person?"
"I'm finding a teacher," someone said, and pushed out of the cluster at a brisk walk.
Zev lay there a moment more. His palms were flat against the floor. He could feel a faint vibration from the building, a heartbeat that was not his. He pressed his tongue to his molars and tasted blood.
'Damn it all. Still... I have to... get up...'
He planted a hand, then another, and pushed. His body felt wrong, as if all the pieces had been put back in the same places but misaligned by a fraction. He wobbled upright anyway.
A red line dribbled from his nose. He wiped it with his sleeve. His eyes watered without his permission, and he blinked hard to make them stop.
Then, he lifted his head and found Seth with his gaze. It was not much of a glare. He did not have the face for a good one at the moment. But it was direct, and it stayed.
Seth's smirk faded for a tiny beat, almost not there, then returned sharper. He flexed his hands until the knuckles clicked.
"Oh," he stated dryly. "He stood up. And he's making the same face. Delusion looks terrible on you, little man."
Zev didn't answer. His words would have wobbled. He wasn't going to give this boy any more laughs.
Seth glanced around at the circle of students. One had her jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle jump. Another boy crossed his arms and set his weight like he was arguing with himself about stepping in.
Seth chose the easier target. He focused on Zev again and stepped forward. The corridor seemed to funnel him toward the smaller boy.
"If that did not educate you," he said, "this will. No hard feelings. I can't allow you to keep a wrong idea about yourself. You should have known better."
He drew back his arm. The fist looked very large this close. Zev saw it and, absurdly, remembered the banana milk on the floor, the way the little bottle had spun and settled with a last soft bump.
His mind did that sometimes. It grabbed the wrong object to hold on to.
The crowd's murmur folded into a single breath. Some students flinched before anything happened, like people bracing for thunder.
Seth's shoulders rolled to drive the punch home.
...but it didn't connect.
"No hard feelings," said a voice to his left, crisp and light at the same time. "My foot just has a mind of its own. Your stupid face should have known better."