Alan stayed on the floor for several long seconds after the crowd began breaking apart. His chest rose and fell unevenly against the cold tile while pain pulsed steadily through his ribs with every breath. One arm twitched near his stomach before it fell limp again. The side of his face pressed against the polished surface, leaving a faint smear of warm blood behind.
Students simply stepped around him as if he were another piece of scattered debris. Shoes passed inches from his head while conversations picked up again around the hallway. The fight had ended and the entertainment was over. Nobody cared anymore.
He swallowed hard and forced one hand underneath his body. The simple movement sent a fresh wave of ache through his shoulder and side. His sleeve dragged across spilled papers and dust as he pushed himself upward inch by inch. His elbow nearly buckled halfway through the effort, forcing him to catch himself against the nearby lockers. The metal rattled from the sudden weight.
"…Come back here, you assholes…" he muttered under his breath. His voice came out rough and strained. Breathing through his nose had grown difficult after the headbutt, and every inhale scraped against the swelling inside his face.
Farther down the hallway, John's loud laugh carried clearly over the remaining noise.
"I still cannot believe this weakling dodged some of your hits."
Another laugh followed right after.
"And he actually landed punches on your forehead too. That shit was embarrassing."
Mark answered without even glancing back.
"For a second I thought he was hiding some secret ability or some anime bullshit."
A few nearby students joined in with their own chuckles.
"You seriously watch too much manga, man."
Their voices gradually faded into the general academy noise as they walked away.
Alan remained leaning against the lockers while he worked to steady his breathing. He lifted one shaking hand to his mouth and wiped away the fresh blood collecting near his lip. The red streak stood out sharply against his knuckles. He stared at it in silence for a long moment before anger surged through him again. His hand came down hard against the floor beside him.
"Damn it…"
The impact sent fresh pain shooting through his wrist and fingers. He lowered his head.
"I knew helping Lucas was a mistake," he thought bitterly. "I should have walked away. What is the point of trying to help people if this is all you get back?"
He pushed himself upright again with more care this time. His legs held, though one knee trembled noticeably before he steadied himself against the lockers. His backpack still lay several feet away with papers scattered around it. One notebook had been stepped on repeatedly, its cover barely holding together. Pain stabbed through his stomach the moment he bent down to retrieve it, so he paused with one hand pressed against the floor until the dizziness passed. He grabbed the notebook and straightened slowly.
His reflection appeared briefly in the dark locker window beside him. Swollen lip, blood near his nose, and red marks spreading across one side of his forehead. He looked terrible. Alan turned away from the sight and limped toward the restroom at the end of the hallway. Every step sent soreness radiating through his ribs and lower back. His shoulder brushed the wall once when his balance slipped near the corner.
Inside the restroom, the fluorescent lights buzzed steadily overhead. Two students standing near the sinks went quiet the moment they saw him enter. One of them quickly grabbed his bag and muttered to his friend.
"Come on."
They left without another word.
Alan approached the sink and turned the faucet. Cold water rushed over his hands. He leaned forward and splashed it across his face, then gripped both sides of the sink tightly. Droplets slid down from his chin into the basin while blood diluted into pink streams beneath the running water.
His reflection stared back at him from the mirror. Tired. Humiliated. Weak. He touched the swelling near his forehead carefully and winced at the contact. His expression shifted as something heavier settled in. His fingers tightened around the edge of the sink until the muscles in his forearms trembled from the pressure.
"No…" he whispered. Water continued running beneath him. "I swear I will get stronger. I am done being weak and useless."
The words came out calmer now, more controlled. He kept staring directly at his own reflection.
"I will remember every single thing they said today. Every laugh. Every hit."
The humiliation still burned under his skin. The helplessness of lying there while everyone watched and did nothing. The way Mark was right… he had not been able to do anything that mattered.
He inhaled slowly through his nose before straightening up fully despite the soreness pulling across his body.
"I will become the best my bloodline has ever seen. I will use every ounce of this anger to gain strength."
Movement near the restroom entrance caught his attention. Three students stood just outside the doorway pretending not to stare. One of them lowered his phone too late after clearly trying to peek inside. Another whispered something under his breath while glancing toward Alan's bruised face.
Alan slowly turned his head toward them. His patience finally snapped.
"What the fuck are you staring at?" he barked sharply. "You wanna fight too? Then get your asses in here. Otherwise piss off."
The students immediately stiffened.
"N-no, man…"
One of them raised both hands awkwardly.
"Sorry."
They disappeared down the hallway almost instantly.
Silence returned for barely a second before a notification buzzed loudly from inside Alan's bag sitting near the sink. Then another. And another. Alan stared at the bag for a moment before pulling his phone out. His stomach sank immediately. The academy group chat was exploding with notifications. Clips. Screenshots. Comments. Somebody had already uploaded the entire fight.
Alan watched the shaky hallway recording play across his screen. He saw himself dodging John's first punch, swinging back, and the two hits landing against Mark's forehead before the recoil made him shake his own hands in pain. Then the comments started flooding underneath.
"Bro thought he was the MC."
"That forehead is built like steel."
"Why did Alan actually square up though?"
"Powerless dudes gotta learn eventually."
The video continued. Mark's headbutt. Alan folding from the body shot. Him getting dropped onto the tiles while people laughed in the background. Alan let out a quiet scoff through his nose before locking the phone and shoving it roughly back into his bag.
"…Fantastic."
He leaned both hands against the sink again and lowered his head.
"How the fuck am I supposed to deal with this now?"
His fingers pushed roughly through his hair before pain suddenly shot through his ribs and shoulder.
"Ah… shit…"
He exhaled slowly through his nose while forcing himself to settle down.
"This bullshit is gonna stick out like a sore thumb for weeks."
His forehead rested briefly against the mirror.
"I seriously hope Anna does not see this…"
A tired groan escaped him.
"This never got this bad before."
For a few seconds he simply stood there, listening to the faint hallway noise outside the restroom door — distant laughter, footsteps, and the constant buzz of notifications. Then Alan slowly lifted his head and looked back at his own reflection. The humiliation still burned under his skin. The helplessness. The weakness. The bitter truth that no matter how smart he was, it meant nothing the moment someone stronger decided to crush him.
His shoulders squared as he inhaled deeply.
"Strength is the only thing that actually matters in this world," he thought. "Anything else is just a delusion for the weak. A strong man stands above and conquers all."
The restroom fell completely silent except for the running water. Alan shut the faucet off. The sudden quiet felt heavier around him. He grabbed his bag, adjusted the strap carefully over his bruised shoulder, and walked back out into the hallway. His limp remained noticeable, but he kept moving forward without stopping.