A young, heavyset boy stood in the corner of a swaying metro train.His brown school shirt was rumpled and stained, his black trousers scuffed with dirt.Bruises peeked from beneath the collar, fresh cuts stung on his skin, and his hair was a mess—like someone had grabbed and yanked it for fun.
He kept his head bowed, staring at the floor beneath his shoes. His fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms.
Why must I suffer this much humiliation?Why am I the one they beat up every day?Those bastards—laughing, shoving, hitting—never feared the consequences. They acted like they owned the world, like his pain was just another joke in their day.
Anger flared in his chest.If only I were strong. If only I could stand up to them.I wish I could beat the daylight out of them.If only I was like the main characters in novels and comics…
He let out a bitter chuckle, muttering aloud without realizing:"But I'm not some cool, charming main character. I'm not even selfless like them. I'm not cut out to be the MC of any story."
It was only then that he became aware of the eyes around him.He looked up—and every passenger nearby was staring with awkward, cringing expressions.Heat rushed to his face, his shame drowning out even his anger. He immediately dropped his gaze again, wishing he could sink into the floor.
The train rumbled on, and the weight of the stares pressed down.But somewhere among the crowd, one person's eyes lingered on him differently—not with pity, not with disgust.They were… focused.
"Found you," a voice whispered.
And just like that—his life would never be the same.
To be continued…