It happened after school.
The rain had just started—light, steady, turning the courtyard into a silver haze. Most students had already cleared out. I stayed behind to help the Art Club move canvases for the upcoming exhibit. Clara had bailed early, claiming her "spiritual energy" couldn't handle manual labor.
I was carrying a box of brushes when I heard it—a dull thud, like flesh hitting concrete.
Another one.
Then shouting.
Curious (and a little stupid), I followed the sound toward the back of the school where the gym met the utility shed. A notorious blind spot. No teachers. No cameras.
What I saw stopped me cold.
Three guys. All seniors. Towering. Built. And in the middle of them—Kieran.
He wasn't backing down.
One of them lunged. Kieran dodged, smooth and precise, and drove his fist straight into the guy's stomach. The senior collapsed with a groan.
"Still think I'm bluffing?" Kieran said, calm as ever.
The other two hesitated. One of them pulled out a wooden stick—probably from a broom handle—and charged.
"Kieran!" I yelled before I even realized what I was doing.
He turned slightly—and that moment of distraction cost him.
Crack.
The stick hit his shoulder hard. He dropped to one knee, grimacing.
Without thinking, I ran in. I didn't have a plan. I didn't even have fists worth bragging about. But something in me refused to just watch.
"Hey!" I shouted, grabbing a nearby metal dustpan. "Pick on someone your own size!"
The guy hesitated. "Who the hell are you—"
I swung. It wasn't graceful. It wasn't cool. But it hit.
He stumbled back, swearing. The third guy took off, dragging his buddy with him. The one Kieran dropped groaned on the ground but didn't move.
Kieran stood, eyes locked on me.
"...You didn't have to do that," he said, voice strained.
"Yeah, well," I panted, heart racing, "you looked like you could use a sidekick."
He blinked. For a moment, his face softened. Almost a smile.
Then he stepped closer—closer than I expected.
"You're not like the others," he said quietly. "You've got guts."
I swallowed hard. "You've got bruises."
We stood in the rain, breathing heavily, just staring.
Somewhere inside me, something shifted.
This wasn't just a fight.
This was the beginning of something.