The hallway didn't go back to normal.
Even after Kai's words echoed into silence, the air stayed heavy, humming with whispers. Students leaned into each other, wide-eyed, replaying every curse, every sharp edge of his voice.
She felt it pressing down on her from all sides—eyes staring, mouths muttering, the sting of being at the center of it all. Her chest tightened, her breaths shallow.
Kai's hand was still outstretched, steady and waiting. She hesitated, her fingers trembling before they finally brushed against his. The contact grounded her just enough to move.
The whispers followed them as he led her down the hall.
"Holy shit, did you hear him?""He went off—like, completely off.""She must've done something.""Or maybe he actually cares about her…"
Her stomach twisted harder with every word. By the time they rounded the corner into an emptier stretch of hallway, she couldn't take it anymore. She tugged her hand free, leaning against the wall, her breath shaky.
"Kai…" Her voice cracked. "Why did you do that? In front of everyone?"
He froze, turning to face her. The fire was gone from his expression now, replaced by something rawer—panic.
"I—fuck." He ran a hand through his hair, pacing once before stopping. "I didn't mean to… not like that. I just—when I saw them, when I heard them—I lost it."
She shook her head, tears threatening to spill. "Now everyone's staring. Talking. It's worse."
Kai's eyes widened, his chest rising and falling too fast. "Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't… I wasn't trying to make it worse for you." His voice cracked, his hands flexing like he didn't know what to do with them. "I thought—I thought I was protecting you."
The desperation in his voice startled her. He wasn't just apologizing—he was spiraling.
"Kai," she whispered, softer now, "you didn't hurt me."
He stopped, staring at her like he needed to hear it again.
"You scared me," she admitted, her voice trembling, "but not in the way you think. Just… no one's ever done that for me. No one's ever cared enough to fight for me. It felt… new. Too much."
His hands dropped to his sides, his shoulders sagging. "I fucked up," he muttered. "I swore I wouldn't lose control again. And I did. Right in front of everyone. I…" His voice faltered. "I can't—"
She stepped closer before she could stop herself. Her hand hovered near his arm, uncertain, but her voice steadied.
"You didn't break me."
His breath hitched. His eyes searched hers, wild and fragile, like he was balancing on the edge of something he couldn't name.
And for the first time, she realized—he was just as afraid of himself as she was of the world.