"EVERYONE, PLEASE COME TO THE INDOOR STADIUM!"
The class representative shouted, her voice echoing through the classroom walls.
The shuffle of shoes and chatter faded as the students poured out. Soon, silence blanketed the room—too silent. Sanya paused, her brow furrowing. A faint sound lingered, like a soft shuffle. Instinct tugged at her. She turned slowly, scanning the empty desks and windows. Nothing. Yet her heart whispered, Someone's here.
She stepped closer to the cupboard. The handle felt cool in her palm as she pulled it open.
Inside, a boy was curled up, sleeping peacefully as if the world outside didn't exist.
"Why are you in the cupboard?!" she asked, startled.
The boy stretched, yawning lazily, before flashing a bright smile.
"Well, it's my hobby to sleep like this," he replied, almost too cheerfully.
His name was Taarush. There was something odd about him—carefree, yet his eyes carried shadows. Sanya felt uneasy, but she still offered her hand to help him out politely.
Before she could ask more, the door slammed open with a deafening bang.
Sam entered. The notorious bully. His reputation was carved in bruises on other students' skin. Dangerous, cruel, unpredictable. He kicked the door for no reason, just to watch Sanya flinch. His sharp eyes locked on Taarush.
"What happened here? Let's go to the nurse," he said with a smirk.
Sanya's chest tightened. Fear prickled her skin. She quickly grabbed Taarush's hand.
"Come with me, I'll show the way," she said firmly.
Sam's lips curled into a wicked smile. He leaned close, his breath hot against her ear.
"You think you can protect him, Sanya? Cute. Let's see how long that lasts."
Then, almost too low to hear, he whispered something else. Only Sanya caught it. Her eyes widened in horror. Her breath hitched, and she stumbled back, collapsing to her knees. The blood drained from her face as though her soul had been yanked away.
Taarush stepped forward, fists clenched despite the trembling in his arms. His voice was steady, defiant.
"If it's me you want, leave her out of this."
Sam chuckled darkly, amused by the boy's courage. "Bold words for a cupboard rat." He yanked Taarush by the collar and dragged him into the storeroom.
The door slammed shut. Sanya stayed on the floor, nails digging into her palms. I should move. I should scream. I should stop this… But fear shackled her body. The whisper still echoed in her mind, poisoning her thoughts. Tears blurred her vision, her guilt screaming louder than her voice ever could.
Inside, Sam unleashed his fury. Punch after punch. Kick after kick. Taarush's body swayed like a rag doll, but he bit down on his pain, refusing to cry out. Sam laughed, tossing a bundle of money onto the bloodied floor.
"Here's your reward. Dog." Then he walked out, leaving Taarush broken.
Hours later, Taarush woke on the infirmary bed. His ribs ached, his lip was split, but his eyes softened when he saw Sanya sitting by his side, worry etched in her face. She reached out but froze halfway, her hands trembling. He whispered a quiet, "Thank you," before slipping away. He couldn't stay—Sam would only target her next.
After school, on his way home, Taarush spotted a stray dog lying on the roadside, bleeding and whimpering. Without hesitation, he scooped it up and rushed to the pet hospital.
The doctor examined the dog and frowned. "We'll need money for treatment."
Taarush's stomach sank. He had none. Neither rich parents nor anyone to turn to. Desperation clawed at him. He bowed so deeply his forehead nearly touched the floor.
"Please, save this dog. I'll find a way to pay. Just… don't let it die."
The doctor sighed, softening. "Fine. But you don't have long."
Taarush sprinted out, thoughts spinning. Money… I need money… there's only one way.
Back at school, behind the building, he found Sam with his gang, laughing, cigarettes glowing between their fingers. His body trembled, but his resolve was steel. He stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside.
"I need money," he said coldly.
Sam's grin widened. "Perfect."
They tied him to a rod, beating him mercilessly. His body swung, every blow echoing like thunder. Bruises blossomed on his skin, but he gritted his teeth. Endurance was all he had.
Finally, Sam hurled cash at his face. "Take it, dog."
Taarush collapsed, bloody and broken. Still, with trembling hands, he gathered every note. He didn't care about the humiliation. The dog's life mattered more.
Clutching the money, he staggered back to the hospital. The doctors gasped at his wounds but hurried to save the dog.
Taarush sat silently in the waiting room, blood dripping onto the floor, his chest heavy with pain and pride. For him, the sacrifice was worth it.