Thud.
My body slammed into the washroom wall.
The cold tiles crashed against my back, knocking the air out of my lungs. Pain shot from my shoulder down my spine, followed by another shove that nearly smashed my head into the ceramic.
Damn it… is he on his period today or something.
A punch slammed into my stomach. My body bent forward reflexively as I held my breath, forcing myself not to make a sound. Someone grabbed the collar of my uniform and shoved me back against the wall.
"Still gonna stay quiet?" one of them clicked his tongue in annoyance.
I didn't answer. My hand moved to wipe the blood from my lips. A metallic taste spread through my mouth—warm and disgusting. I swallowed, holding back the nausea.
A knee nearly struck my thigh, close enough to make my legs wobble. I forced myself upright, pressing my back against the wall so I wouldn't collapse.
Then—
"Stop."
The bathroom door opened.
A blond-haired boy stepped inside.
Everyone froze and turned toward him. The laughter and mocking voices from earlier instantly died.
"Yo, isn't that the former student council president?" one of them sneered. "What are you doing here? Trying to save him again?"
"You—!" the blond boy snapped. "How many times do I have to say it? Violence is forbidden in school."
"Relax." One of them stood casually. "We're just giving him a farewell gift. We're graduating soon anyway, right?"
He walked up, casually patting the blond boy's shoulder in mockery, then passed by him. The others followed, leaving the bathroom with low laughter.
The blond boy frowned, watching their backs until they disappeared, then turned to me.
"Why don't you ever fight back?" he asked. "I know your physical ability isn't bad. Even if you can't win, you could still resist so they'd stop bullying you."
He held out a hand and helped me stand.
Honestly, I was confident I could beat them in a fight. I just didn't want to deal with compensation costs if they got injured. That was why I avoided violence altogether.
"Haa… forget it," he muttered. "It's not too late. I'll report this. I also have recorded evidence from before. If you're willing, we can turn this in and make them get punished."
"I want you to delete the recordings."I said.
"Wait… what?" His voice hardened. "Why are you protecting them? If you just admitted you were being bullied, they'd get punished for sure—maybe even expelled. So stop covering for them and pretending nothing happened."
I wasn't protecting them. I'd only heard rumors about them—kids who drank, fought, and carried blades. I'd rather get beaten here than provoke them and end up chopped to pieces in some alley.
Besides, I was oddly grateful that all they did was beat me up—just because, without realizing it, I'd somehow made their girlfriends fall for me.
"It's fine," I said. "We're graduating soon anyway. Don't complicate things."
He let out a long sigh."Haa… fine."
I stared at him for a few seconds before asking, "By the way, why were you here?"
"I wanted to congratulate you," he answered quietly. "When I went to your classroom, I heard you were taken away by them, so I rushed here."
He inhaled deeply."Anyway, congrats. I feel ashamed calling myself your rival when I couldn't catch up to you for two whole years."
I glanced at him. Disappointment was clear on his face. From the start, he had chosen the wrong rival. No one could surpass me. Once I decided on something, I would become the best at it.
"Don't beat yourself up. You tried. What rank did you get this time?"
He gave a bitter smile. "Fourth."
We walked together.
"Actually…" he continued, "I made a study group for the upcoming exams. I hope you'll join."
A study group sounded interesting, but I doubted I'd gain anything from it. I'd probably end up helping others more than benefiting myself.
"I'll think about it."
He smiled. "Good. Let me know once you decide."
We reached a crossroads. He waved and headed toward the cafeteria.
"See you."
After watching him leave, I opened my wallet—and froze.
Empty.
This morning's incident flashed through my mind.
"Was it him… who's been taking my money?"
Annoyance slowly rose inside me. For months, my money had kept disappearing. I'd long suspected my little brother, but without proof, doubt forced me to ignore it—especially since the amount was never much.
I took a deep breath, forcing down the surge in my chest.
"Forget it," I muttered. "This is my fault for turning a blind eye for so long. Maybe it's time I seriously talk to him."
With no money left, I changed direction and headed to the school rooftop to spend my time.
The door creaked open.
Cold wind rushed against my face, stinging my skin like countless needles. My vision froze.
A girl stood by the railing.
Her body leaned backward, one hand gripping the metal bar tightly, as if torn between holding on and letting go.
"Hey—!"
I ran.
My footsteps pounded across the concrete. My breathing turned ragged, my chest burning. I reached out and grabbed her arm just in time.
She flinched. Her body trembled slightly, clearly unsure of what she wanted to do. I tightened my grip, afraid she might slip away.
Her face was pale. Her hair was messy, her clothes disheveled, and her eyes—empty. Like a bottomless pit.
"Did you get beaten today too?" she asked.
Her voice was flat, almost emotionless, as if pain were nothing more than routine.
"Yeah. As you can see."
I kept holding her arm, not daring to let go.
I knew this girl. We occasionally met on the rooftop whenever I had no money for lunch. One day, she started talking, and I simply listened.
Her circumstances weren't much different from mine. She often got beaten—not because of grades, but because her beauty stirred jealousy among other girls. Quiet, withdrawn, rejecting nearly every boy who approached her. As a result, she was hated by girls and avoided by boys.
"Congratulations," she said. "You got first place again. Your future must be bright."
"Yeah. I hope so," I replied shortly.After all, I still had to carry that useless family on my back.
She fell silent.
Her gaze drifted into the sky, as if staring far beyond it. The wind blew through her hair, making her look even more fragile.
"You know," she whispered, "I actually have nothing in this world."
"So that's why you're trying to end your life?" I asked, my voice harsher than intended.
A faint smile appeared on her lips. Thin. Fragile.
"You only listen to me out of pity, right?" she said. "Not because you care."
I fell silent.
It was true. I listened out of pity. And honestly, it was a convenient way to kill time. But did I really care about her?
"That's enough," she continued. "At least, someone listened to me once."
My grip tightened. "I do it because I want to. So stop talking like that."
I tried pulling her back, but she resisted. Her fingers clutched the railing even tighter.
Her eyes widened slightly, as if that answer hadn't been among the possibilities she prepared for.
"Even so, I know you'll leave someday," she whispered. "You won't always be here."
I shook my head. "Not now."
"After graduation," her voice was nearly swallowed by the wind. "We won't meet again."
Cold sweat dampened my forehead as I searched for the right words.
I looked straight at her. "I can still listen. We can still talk. Even if we can't meet, I can still listen to you through the phone."
"Really…?"
Despite the doubt in her voice, I nodded. "I'll try. So stop doing this, okay?"
I held her arm tightly—afraid of what might happen.
The girl smiled—a forced smile. Her lips trembled as tears began to fall down her cheeks.
"W-will you… will you always be there for me?"
I froze.
For the first time, I saw this expression on her face.
She always smiled, but it had always been hollow, her eyes empty—like a doll's. But now, it was different. For the first time, she looked truly alive.
One of my hands rose and gently wiped her tears.
"Sure. If that's all, I can still spare time for you."
She bit her lip, as if holding back something surging inside her. Then she stepped closer and hugged me tightly—too tightly.
"If that's the case," she whispered into my ear,"you're mine, okay?"
My body stiffened.
The sudden movement shocked me.
The next moment, I felt myself being pulled by something—and the world lost its footing.
I closed my eyes, bracing for impact.
Pain spread instantly, then everything went dark.
My body felt cold. My vision slowly faded.
Is this the end?Am I really going to die like this—just because I tried to save a crazy girl?
Fragments of my life spun through my mind.
There was nothing truly good left. Instead, I felt pity for my younger self—back when I knew nothing and could still smile without burden.
Now I understood.
My life… was pathetic.
There was nothing to be proud of.Nothing truly worth holding onto.
And somehow—
in that realization,I felt relieved.
As if the weight that had crushed my chest for so long had finally found its place.
Oh… so that's how it is.
Not because I was satisfied with my life.Not because I felt I had done my best.
From the beginning—
I had only been waiting for one thing.
One reason that made sense.One justification I could accept.
A reason to give up.