Megumi Fushiguro sat on top of a heap of groaning bodies in the back corner of the schoolyard, expression flat as ever. The five boys underneath him shifted weakly, their uniforms crumpled, their faces bruised, their pride shattered. They had thought it was funny to talk about his sister. They had thought wrong.
Did I hit them too lightly? Megumi wondered, arms crossed. He tapped his finger against his arm, staring down at the mess he had made. They can still talk. Maybe I should've put more into it. No… that'd be overkill. But still…
One of the boys twitched, trying to move out from under him, and Megumi pressed his heel down just enough to stop him. The boy wheezed.
"Stay still," Megumi muttered, not even bothering to raise his voice.
He wasn't angry anymore. That had passed the moment his fists landed. Now, it was just… routine. People mocked, people disrespected, people got put in their place. Simple.
But then a familiar voice broke through the late afternoon air.
"Megumi!"
Megumi's head turned slightly. His sister, Tsumiki, walked toward him with two of her friends trailing behind. She looked bright as always—kind eyes, neat hair, the sort of presence that didn't belong in the middle of this ugly scene. The second she saw the pile of beaten boys, her smile dropped.
"Megumi… what are you doing?" Her voice carried a mix of disappointment and worry, the kind of tone only she used on him.
Megumi exhaled. "…They deserved it."
"Megumi." She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. "You can't just go around fighting people at school. This isn't good behavior."
The bullies, hearing her voice, scrambled—or at least tried to scramble. The one closest to the top gasped, "N-no, no, Tsumiki-san! It's not his fault!"
"Yeah!" another one wheezed from below. "He was just… protecting you! W-we said something really bad, it was our fault!"
Megumi blinked at them, unimpressed. Cowards. Now you grow a spine to apologize?
Tsumiki raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by the chorus of self-incrimination. "You… what?"
The boys nodded vigorously, despite the pain of moving their swollen faces. "We're sorry! We won't ever say anything again! Please don't blame Fushiguro!"
It became awkward fast. Tsumiki's friends behind her exchanged looks, clearly unsure what they'd walked into.
Tsumiki sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Megumi, get off them."
He hesitated for half a second, then obeyed. He rose, hands shoved into his pockets, as the pile of bullies collapsed apart beneath him. The boys groaned, dragging themselves up one by one, wincing and clutching their ribs as they stood.
"Sorry, Tsumiki-san!" one of them said again, bowing clumsily. Another stumbled while trying to copy him.
"Yeah, we were wrong!" another added. "It won't happen again, I swear!"
They limped away, muttering apologies every few steps, until they disappeared behind the corner of the building.
Megumi stood silently beside his sister.
"You didn't have to fight them," Tsumiki said softly, her voice calmer now that they were gone. "I can defend myself."
Megumi looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "I know. But it was faster this way."
"That's not the point," she said, her tone carrying that patient, motherly warmth she always had with him. "You don't have to solve everything with your fists. Sometimes it makes things worse."
Megumi frowned slightly, but he didn't argue. He loved her too much for that.
They started walking toward the school gate together, Tsumiki's friends following a few steps behind. The late afternoon sun painted the campus in orange light, the air heavy with that lazy, almost weekend feel.
As they approached the exit, they heard the buzz of voices. Other students were gathered near the gate, whispering and stealing glances at something outside.
"Who is that?"
"He's so good-looking…"
"And that car…"
"Is that really a Bugatti?!"
Megumi and Tsumiki slowed down, both curious now. They followed the line of sight—and froze.
Leaning casually against a sleek, black Bugatti parked by the curb was a young man they didn't recognize. He had one hand in his pocket, the other raised in a casual wave, as if greeting old friends. His calm eyes landed squarely on them.
"Yo," he greeted simply, his tone friendly, like this was the most natural thing in the world.
The reaction from the crowd of students was immediate. Gasps, squeals, whispers.
Megumi's frown deepened. He didn't like being stared at, and he especially didn't like strangers waving at him like they knew him.
Tsumiki blinked, caught off guard. "Megumi… do you know him?"
"…No." Megumi's voice was flat, his brows furrowed.
"Then why is he—"
Before she could finish, the stranger pushed off the car and walked toward them. His steps were unhurried, his expression calm.
"I was waiting for you two," he said, as if it explained everything.
Tsumiki instinctively took a small step back. "…Us?"
Megumi narrowed his eyes. "Do I know you?"
"No," the young man admitted without hesitation. "But I know who you are." His gaze softened slightly, almost reassuring. "Fushiguro Megumi. And your sister, Tsumiki."
That made Megumi stiffen. His guard shot up immediately. "…How do you know our names?"
The stranger didn't flinch under his glare. "Relax. I'm not here to cause trouble. I'm… a friend. You'll understand soon enough."
The whispers from the crowd grew louder.
"Wait, he knows their names?"
"What's going on?"
"Some rich relative?"
Tsumiki put a gentle hand on her brother's arm, trying to calm him down. She looked at the stranger carefully. His presence was… strange. Not threatening, but heavy, like he didn't belong in an ordinary schoolyard.
"You really didn't have to wait here," she said politely, though confusion colored her voice. "If you needed to talk to us, there are better ways."
The young man gave her a small smile. "Maybe. But this was simpler." He gestured casually at the car behind him. "Come on. Let's grab something to eat. We'll talk there."
Megumi stared at him like he had just suggested the dumbest thing possible. "…Why would we get in a car with some random guy we've never met?"
"Because," the stranger replied, still calm, "I wouldn't have shown up like this if I didn't have a reason. And if I meant harm, you'd already know it."
The words hung heavy in the air. They weren't threatening—but there was a confidence in them that made even Megumi hesitate.
Tsumiki glanced at her brother, her hand tightening on his sleeve. "…Megumi?"
Megumi scowled, not liking this at all. But something about the man's presence… it wasn't normal. He knew their names. He was waiting for them. And that car…
"…Fine," Megumi muttered finally. "But I'm not taking my eyes off you."
The stranger gave a short nod, as if satisfied. "That's fair."
Together, the three of them walked toward the car. Tsumiki still looked cautious but curious, while Megumi walked stiffly, hands in his pockets, glaring at the ground. Behind them, the whispers of students followed like a buzzing trail.
"Who is he?!"
"Did you hear? He knew their names!"
"This feels like something out of a movie…"
Megumi ignored them. His focus stayed on the stranger.
Whoever this guy was, this weekend was about to get complicated.