Hit. Another blow. The crunch of ribs. Heavy breathing. Moans of pain. Darkness.

Another day for Minsoo began with a beating. It has become his routine - he comes to school only to be caught by Daeho two breaks later and beaten up by him and his henchmen. It was painful, it was annoying. Minsoo hated them. He hated everyone and everything, his life, who was worthless, bullies, who wouldn't stop hitting him, Teachers who closed their eyes and pretended he didn't exist, parents, Who were monsters, stepfather, damn whispers, damn looks, pity, indifference in the eyes of others. It was all sitting in his liver, waiting for him to snap. But that's not going to happen, because he's too weak, too cowardly to speak out, to stand up for himself. Minsoo learned as a child that the more you resist, the more and longer you will be beaten. It's the only thing he's learned from his stepfather. And it really worked. He stopped fighting, stopped resisting. It was easier to withstand the attacks, and then just go to the nurse's office and relax there, breaking only one rib or getting a black eye, than to endure painfully for a long time and not give up in order to barely stay alive.

But something went wrong. There's always something wrong with him. After another session with Daeho, after which he could barely get to his feet, something inside made him say "Stupid bastards." Minsoo didn't intend to say it out loud, but he was already so fucked up that he didn't realize how the words came out of his mouth easily, quickly, irrevocably. And his words were followed by an immediate reaction. Daeho and his henchmen, who were already leaving, suddenly stopped and turned back to him, with grins that looked more like those of a wolf's grin.

Minsoo was lying on the floor in a corner of the gym when Juhyo found him and dragged him to the nurse's office. The blond boy winced in pain as he sat on the examination table, his right eye swollen shut, lip split, and bruises forming across his face and body. He kept his head down, too ashamed to meet your gaze as you began treating his wounds.

Despite his injuries, Minsoo's heart raced at your proximity. No one had ever shown him such kindness - not his family, not classmates, not other girls. He couldn't help but develop feelings for you, even though he knew you were 24 and he was only 18. The butterflies in his stomach and sweat on his palms betrayed his attempts to remain calm and professional in your presence.