The rain began to fall in earnest, its rhythmic tapping against the windows a soft prelude to the storm gathering within Si-Woo. The school bell rang, a sharp chime signaling the end of the day, but for Si-Woo, it marked the beginning of something else entirely. With his books clutched tightly to his chest, he stepped out into the deluge, his breath hitching in his throat.

  The schoolyard was alive with chaos. Puddles scattered like small battlegrounds as children darted through the storm, their laughter and shouts drowned out by the drumming rain. The assembly's earlier excitement was a distant memory, replaced by the singular drive to escape the tempest.

  Si-Woo paused, scanning the sodden landscape for a clear path home. His pulse quickened when his eyes landed on Jung-Ho and his crew, clustered beneath the gnarled branches of an old tree. Their sneers, visible even through the curtain of rain, sent a familiar chill down his spine.

  Jung-Ho was the first to move, his shoes squelching through the mud as he approached, his hair plastered to his forehead in wild strands. His posse followed, their laughter echoing ominously through the storm.

  "Looks like the little genius had a taste of victory today," Jung-Ho mocked, his voice dripping with disdain.

  Si-Woo gripped his lunchbox tighter, the warm contents inside a stark contrast to the cold dread settling in his chest. He forced himself to stand straighter, recalling Ye-Jun’s words: Keep your chin up, Si-Woo. Always stand tall, no matter what.

  "What do you want, Jung-Ho?" Si-Woo asked, his voice steadier than he felt.

  "I want to remind you that no matter how smart you think you are, you're still a bitch," Jung-Ho spat, his words venomous. "And didn’t we tell you to stop dyeing your hair pink?"

  The first punch came fast, catching Si-Woo on the nose. Pain exploded in his face, and he stumbled back, the metallic tang of blood mingling with the rainwater streaming down his cheeks.

  Jung-Ho’s fists rained down like the storm itself, relentless and unforgiving. "You think you’re smart?" he sneered. "You’re just a weak little nerd."

  Si-Woo raised his arms in a feeble defense, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Around them, Jung-Ho’s friends circled like vultures, jeering and egging their leader on.

  "You think you’re better than us, genius?" one shouted. "Make him beg!" added another.

  Si-Woo's world was reduced to the pounding of fists, the sting of insults, and the thunderous roar of the storm. But then, a memory surged through the haze of pain—a memory of Ye-Jun, his older brother, standing tall and confident.

  "You’re not weak, Si-Woo," Ye-Jun’s voice echoed in his mind. "You’re just not a fighter yet."

  With a surge of resolve, Si-Woo tightened his grip on the lunchbox before deliberately dropping it into the mud. He straightened, his stance defensive, just as Ye-Jun had taught him.

  "I’m not weak," Si-Woo said, his voice firm despite the tremor of pain. "And I won’t let you do this anymore!"

  Jung-Ho paused, momentarily stunned, before his face twisted in rage. He swung again, but Si-Woo ducked, the blow sailing harmlessly overhead.

  Si-Woo’s counterpunch connected with Jung-Ho’s stomach, forcing a grunt from his bully. The rain poured harder, drenching them both, but Si-Woo barely noticed. A fire burned in his chest, and with it, a newfound clarity.

  "You hit me?" Jung-Ho gasped, disbelief flickering in his eyes.

  Si-Woo didn’t answer. He sidestepped another swing and landed another punch, driving Jung-Ho back. Around them, the jeering crowd began to quiet, their laughter dying as their leader faltered.

  "This isn’t over!" Jung-Ho growled, charging again.

  But Si-Woo was ready. He ducked and weaved, his movements precise and determined. Each strike he landed carried with it the weight of years of fear and frustration, a catharsis that felt almost electric in the storm.

  The spell broke when Jung-Ho’s friends joined the fray. Their fists and feet lashed out in unison, overwhelming Si-Woo’s defenses. He fell, hitting the muddy ground hard as they pounced.

  The storm mirrored the chaos, lightning streaking across the sky as thunder cracked like a war drum. Si-Woo’s world blurred, rain and pain mixing into an inescapable cacophony.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  "Ye-Jun..." Si-Woo whispered, his brother’s name a lifeline amidst the storm.

  The memory of Ye-Jun’s voice returned, steady and unwavering. "Strength isn’t just in your muscles, Si-Woo. It’s in your heart and your mind. Eyes up. Chin down. Be ready to dodge."

  Si-Woo gritted his teeth, his body trembling with effort. He clenched his fists and pushed against the ground.

  "Leave me alone!" he roared, his voice cutting through the downpour like a blade.

  Summoning every ounce of strength, he broke free, rolling away from the bullies’ grasp. He scrambled to his feet, his soaked clothes clinging to his battered frame.

  "You... can’t... do this to me!" Si-Woo panted, his voice defiant.

  Before Jung-Ho could retaliate, a sudden tremor rocked the earth beneath them. The children stumbled, their eyes wide with fear as the ground groaned. Jung-Ho’s grip on a rock faltered, the stone slipping from his grasp.

  The tremor subsided, leaving an uneasy silence in its wake. Jung-Ho’s friends exchanged nervous glances, their earlier bravado replaced by unease.

  "Let’s go, Jung-Ho," one of them urged. "Maybe it’s a sign."

  Jung-Ho hesitated, his anger warring with the fear etched on his face. But as he turned back to Si-Woo, he found not fear, but defiance staring back at him.

  The rain lashed down, relentless and unyielding, a steady drumbeat against the chaos unfolding in the schoolyard. Jung-Ho stood firm amidst the storm, defiance etched into every line of his rain-soaked face.

  "I'm not running scared like a bunch of pussies!" he shouted over the storm, his voice cutting through the tumult.

  His friends exchanged uneasy glances, their earlier bravado dampened by the earth's ominous tremors.

  "But, Jung-Ho... the tremors..." one stammered, his fear evident.

  "I said we're not going anywhere!" Jung-Ho snapped, his eyes daring them to challenge him.

  Si-Woo, battered and bloodied, seized the distraction to inch away, dragging himself through the wet asphalt. Each movement sent fresh waves of agony coursing through his body, but he knew he had to get away before they turned their attention back to him. The rain soaked his clothes, mingling with the blood that streaked his face.

  Jung-Ho’s sharp gaze caught his movement. "You see that? He’s trying to run again!"

  The bullies moved to close the gap, but another tremor rippled through the ground, this one more violent than the first. The earth buckled and groaned beneath them, forcing the boys to stumble and grab onto each other for balance.

  "Jung-Ho, let’s go! This isn’t normal!" one of them yelled, panic tightening his voice.

  But Jung-Ho refused to relent, his pride anchoring him in place. "You think this scares me? I’m not like you, Si-Woo!"

  The tremors subsided as abruptly as they began, leaving an eerie silence in their wake. The rain continued to fall, the sound a stark contrast to the unease that now gripped the group.

  Si-Woo, trembling and gasping, managed to push himself to his knees. His vision blurred and his body swayed, but he forced himself to face Jung-Ho.

  "Please..." Si-Woo’s voice cracked, raw with desperation. "Jung-Ho... stop."

  Jung-Ho’s sneer deepened. He stepped forward and swung, his fist connecting solidly with Si-Woo’s jaw. The impact sent Si-Woo sprawling into the mud, stars exploding in his vision as pain wracked his already battered body.

  "You’re not so tough now, are you?" Jung-Ho taunted, his voice triumphant.

  Before he could press the attack further, another tremor rocked the earth, this time fiercer than before. The schoolyard seemed to come alive as the ground shuddered violently, throwing the children off balance. Cries of fear erupted as the bullies clung to one another, their earlier confidence eroded entirely.

  "Jung-Ho, we have to go! Now!" one of his friends pleaded, his voice rising in pitch.

  Jung-Ho hesitated, anger and fear battling in his eyes. He cast a final glare at Si-Woo, who lay motionless in the mud. With one last spiteful kick to Si-Woo’s side, Jung-Ho snarled, "Fine. But this isn’t over."

  He and his friends scattered, their retreat swallowed by the storm’s fury.

  Si-Woo remained in the rain-soaked schoolyard, his body screaming in protest as he tried to move. Blood and water mixed into the mud beneath him, the rain a cold, merciless assault.

  "Home..." Si-Woo whispered, the word a lifeline he clung to amidst the haze of pain and exhaustion.

  He pushed himself up with trembling arms, his head swimming. His legs felt like lead, threatening to give out with each step as he stumbled forward. The once-familiar schoolyard had become a distorted landscape, the buildings looming over him like silent witnesses to his suffering.

  Just as he thought he could go no further, the world tilted violently, and everything went black.

  When Si-Woo regained consciousness, he was lying on his back, the rain pelting his face in an unrelenting barrage. He coughed, tasting mud and the metallic tang of blood, and managed to prop himself up on his elbows. His body screamed in protest, every movement a struggle against the weight of his injuries.

  "Home..." he murmured, the word barely audible over the rain.

  It was more than a destination now—it was a promise, a desperate goal that kept him moving. He scanned the empty schoolyard, the puddles reflecting the stormy skies above. Slowly, agonizingly, he forced himself to his feet, swaying as if the earth still trembled beneath him.

  Each step was a battle, the rain blurring his vision and soaking his clothes until they clung to him like a second skin. He stumbled forward, his resolve the only thing keeping him upright.

  Finally, the blurred outline of his house emerged in the distance, its warm lights cutting through the grey haze of the storm. It stood like a sanctuary, a beacon of safety amidst the unforgiving tempest.

  Si-Woo reached the gate, his fingers fumbling with the latch as his battered body threatened to collapse. Teeth chattering and limbs trembling, he dragged himself inside. Each step closer to the front door felt like conquering a mountain, but the promise of home gave him the strength to push through.

  As the door closed behind him, muffling the storm outside, Si-Woo let out a ragged breath. The world outside had been a battlefield, but here, in the faint warmth of his home, he finally allowed himself to crumble.