[The Concrete Jungle]
High school isn't just a place for learning calculus or memorizing historical dates. It is a miniature ecosystem. A jungle enclosed within concrete walls. I realized this truth a long time ago. In this jungle, there are predators—the loud, the strong, the wealthy. And there are prey—the weak, the quiet, the isolated. To survive without being eaten, I chose a third option: to be a "tree." I became part of the background, a silent observer who blends into the lockers and the tiled floors, unnoticed and untouched.
But today... was different. I walked through the crowded hallway during lunch break. The air was thick with the smell of cheap cafeteria food and floor wax. My mind was still hazy, vibrating with the remnants of last night's feverish dreams. Usually, I would keep my head down. But today, a strange, electric sense of power coursed through my veins. It felt like caffeine, but sharper. It felt like latent energy waiting for a signal to unleash.
I looked at my hand, clenching and unclenching my fist. The movement felt faster than usual. Stronger. "Maybe I'm not ordinary..." I whispered to myself, the delusion taking root in my mind. "Maybe something changed last night."
[The Provocation]
In the far corner of the corridor, near the vending machines, I witnessed the usual scene. The ecosystem at work. Three third-year students—hulking seniors with loosened ties and rolled-up sleeves—had cornered a skinny first-year student. The boy looked like he was about to faint.
"Did you forget your wallet again?" one of the bullies asked, his voice dripping with mock disappointment. He shoved the student against the wall. Thud. "I... I left it in the classroom," the student stammered, clutching his stomach.
The seniors laughed. It was a cruel, hyena-like sound. "That's unfortunate," said the leader, a giant of a student named Kang. "We need to teach you a lesson about memory." One of his lackeys cocked his fist back, preparing to deliver a "disciplinary" punch to the kid's gut.
I froze. In any other timeline, I would have kept walking. I would have been the tree. But suddenly, that strange "confidence" ignited within my chest like a flare. An inner voice, cold and seductive, whispered in my ear: (You are stronger than them.)(They are slow. You are fast.)(You can stop them. Be the hero.)
It was an intoxicating lie. I moved without thinking. My legs carried me forward before my brain could process the danger. I rushed toward them, the wind rushing past my ears, feeling like the protagonist of a comic book entering the final battle.
"Let him go!" I shouted, planting myself firmly between the trembling student and the wall of bullies.
The hallway went silent. The chatter stopped. Everyone turned toward me. A brief, heavy silence fell over the corridor. Kang looked at me. He blinked, surprised to see an obstacle. Then, a slow, mocking grin spread across his broad face. "Oh?" He chuckled, looking at his friends. "Look at this. Quiet Ray decided to play the hero today?"
I stood my ground. I raised my fists in a fighting stance I had seen on TV. I felt adrenaline flooding my system. I expected them to be scared of my intense gaze. I expected to block their attacks with the supernatural speed I possessed in my dreams. "I said... let him go. Walk away."
Kang stepped closer, invading my personal space. He smelled of tobacco and sweat. "And if we don't?" he asked softly.
[The Fall]
Strike first, the voice whispered. I threw a punch. I aimed for Kang's jaw. In my mind, the punch was a blur of motion, a devastating blow that would knock him out instantly. But reality is a cruel mistress. My fist moved... slowly. It was weak. Telegraphed. Just a pathetic, desperate flail of a limb. It had no weight behind it.
Kang didn't even flinch. He caught my fist with his open palm effortlessly, like catching a slow-tossed ball. He squeezed. The bones in my hand ground together. I gasped in pain, my knees buckling. Kang laughed, leaning into my face. "You call that a punch? My grandmother hits harder than you while she's knitting."
Then... the confidence vanished. That illusory power evaporated in an instant, leaving me naked in the cold, hard reality. I wasn't special. I wasn't a hero. I wasn't awakened. I was just a weak student who had meddled in business that wasn't his.
"Let me show you a real punch," Kang whispered.
"WHAM!"
His heavy fist connected with my cheekbone. It felt like being hit by a hammer. A burst of white light exploded behind my eyes. I felt the world spin violently, and the ground rushed up to meet me. I crashed hard onto the cold tiles. My glasses skidded across the floor.
Students gathered around us, forming a circle. They didn't clap. They didn't help. They didn't call a teacher. They erupted in laughter. "Look at him! He actually thought he was tough!" "What an idiot! Did he think he was in a movie?" "Nice nap, Ray!"
I tried to get up, my pride stinging more than my face. Thud. A kick to my ribs knocked the air out of my lungs. I curled into a ball, gasping, coughing, trying to protect my head. The bullies had completely ignored the small student now. I was the new entertainment.
"Lesson for today, Ray..." Kang sneered, looming over me like a titan. He spat on the ground, inches from my nose. "Know your place. Trash stays on the floor."
They walked away, laughing and high-fiving each other. I lay there on the ground for a long minute. My face burned with pain, but my chest burned with shame. I looked up through my swollen eye. The student I had tried to protect... he was still there. He looked at me. Not with gratitude. But with pity. And fear. He didn't say thank you. He didn't offer a hand. He turned and fled, running away as if I were contagious.
"What happened?" I asked myself, wiping the blood from my split lip with a trembling hand. "Why did I feel like I could beat them?" It felt like a deception. A cruel prank played on me by my own biology. As if my body had lied to me to get me hurt.
[The Backyard – After School]
The school day ended, but I couldn't face the crowd at the gate. I retreated to the old cherry tree in the backyard, a secluded spot where no one went. I sat against the rough bark, pressing a cold ice pack I had stolen from the nurse's office against my swollen cheek.
"You're late, hero." A soft, melodic voice drifted down from above. I flinched, turning my head away to hide my bruised face. But it was too late. Lina was standing there, holding her bag. Her expression wasn't mocking. It was soft. Too soft.
She sat down beside me on the grass, ignoring the dirt on her skirt. She reached out and gently turned my face toward her. "Ray... look at you. What happened? Did you get into a fight?" "I tried..." I said bitterly, my voice cracking. "I tried to help a student... but I ended up taking the beating instead. I made a fool of myself."
I expected her to scold me. I expected her to tell me I was reckless. Instead, she smiled gently. She took the ice pack from my hand and placed it back on my cheek, her fingers brushing against my skin. Her touch was cool and soothing.
"That was brave of you, Ray," she said quietly. "It was stupid," I argued. "I didn't save anyone. I just got beat up."
"Sometimes stupidity and courage are two sides of the same coin," she said, looking into my eyes. "Most people would have walked away. You didn't. That makes you different." I laughed, and immediately regretted it as pain shot through my jaw. "Thanks... but I think I'll stick to studying and being invisible from now on."
"Don't say that." She looked at me seriously, her hazel eyes reflecting the afternoon sun. "You have a kind heart... and in this world, that is more important—and rarer—than muscles."
[The Walk Home – With Jin]
The sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of bruised purple and orange. I walked home with Jin. "I heard you became a punching bag today?" Jin said, breaking the silence. Usually, he would make a joke. He would laugh. But today, his tone held a suppressed, simmering anger. His fists were clenched at his sides. "Why didn't you call me? I was in the library. If you had called me, we could have taken them on together. Or at least... we would have gotten beaten up together."
"It happened so fast," I said quietly, looking at my feet. "I thought I could handle them. I don't know why... I just thought I could."
Jin stopped walking. He grabbed my shoulder and forced me to look at him. "Ray... listen to me. You aren't weak. You're just... hesitant. You overthink things." He squeezed my shoulder firmly. "Next time, don't fight alone. We're a team, remember? If you bleed, I bleed. That's the rule."
I managed a small, genuine smile. "Team forever."
Jin turned at the intersection to go to his house. "Put some raw steak on that eye!" he shouted as he waved goodbye.
[The Reflection]
I continued the last block alone. The shadows were lengthening, stretching across the street like grasping claws. The adrenaline had faded, leaving behind only the dull throb of pain and the bitter taste of humiliation. "I am weak..." I whispered to the empty street. "Lina is wrong. Jin is wrong. I am just... weak."
I walked past a parked black sedan with tinted windows. I glanced at the glass, expecting to see my own miserable reflection—the swollen eye, the split lip, the posture of a loser.
But I didn't see that.
I stopped dead in my tracks. In the dark reflection of the window, the boy staring back at me wasn't injured. His face was smooth. His skin was pale. And his eyes... His eyes were glowing with a terrifying, crimson red light.
The reflection wasn't mimicking me. I was standing still, paralyzed with fear. But the reflection... smiled. It was a smile filled with pure malice, arrogance, and contempt. A predator looking at a disappointment.
A voice resonated in my head, not as a whisper this time, but as a growl: "Look at you. Broken. Pathetic." The reflection leaned closer to the glass from the other side. "This happened because you didn't use me. Next time... let me out."
I blinked hard. Whoosh. The image vanished. My normal reflection returned—bruised, battered, and terrified. I shivered violently. It wasn't the cold wind. It was a primal fear rising from my gut. I turned and ran the rest of the way home, fleeing not from bullies, but from the shadow that had begun to awaken inside me.