He was injured and unconscious on the ground.
I didn't know what to do; all I could manage was to drag him to a nearby clinic.
But he was too heavy—I couldn't possibly carry him, so I just dragged him along.
At that moment, I was terrified, fearing he might be dead.
Suddenly, a hoarse voice came through.
"Tch, where did you learn that technique for dragging corpses?"
I looked up to see his eyes open, staring at me with resignation.
I slumped to the ground, staring blankly at him.
He sat up, about to say something, but then his expression turned panicked.
"You... no, you... why are you crying? I'm the one being dragged on the ground, why are you crying?"
He was at a loss.
I became aware of my inexplicable emotions and hastily wiped away my tears, shaking my head.
I asked him what had happened.
He said he had a cold and a fever.
He was lying; there were clearly wounds on him.
But he said, "If it weren't for this fever, I wouldn't have gotten hurt!"
I leaned in close and, like my mother always did, touched his forehead with my lips—it was indeed hot.
He pushed me away and glared at me, demanding, "What are you doing?"
Confused, I replied honestly, "Checking if you have a fever."
My mother had told me that feeling someone's temperature with your lips is the most accurate way.
His expression was complex and left an " idiot".
I didn't mind.
I had experienced too much malice to not recognize that, despite his words, he didn't actually dislike me.
I bought him fever reducers, cold medicine, anti-inflammatory drugs, and some topical treatments for his injuries.
He pulled out a hundred dollar and thrust it into my hand.
I wanted to tell him that wasn't necessary.
But he pointed at me and warned, "Don't be foolish—don't give men your money!"
I pursed my lips and whispered, "You're not a man."
He tugged on my braid, unhappy. "How am I not a man? You little brat, explain yourself or I'll hit you."
I freed my hair from his grasp and said, "You're too young, should count as a boy."
He didn't look much older than a high school student, which would make him a boy.
He seemed at a loss for words, muttering, "Might as well be mute!"
And thus, we became casual acquaintances.
I didn't know his name, but whenever we met, we'd exchange a glance.
And he would always pull an apple from his pocket and toss it to me.
He really loved apples.
Whenever I saw him, he was either smoking or eating an apple.
He would say, "An apple a day keeps the doctor away. It's cheaper than going to the hospital."
He would also ask if anyone had bullied me recently.
I shook my head, saying no.
They had stopped bullying me, but they had convinced other classmates to stay away from me.
I became a solitary figure.
He whistled at me. "Lone wolf? Cool!"
I laughed along with him.
It seemed that only around him could I feel a fleeting warmth.
Later, those people cornered me again.
As expected, their malice toward me never diminished.
This time, however, they had brought reinforcements.
They sure thought highly of me.
They jeered, saying they were going to cripple me.
I clenched my fists, thinking that I would take one of them down with me.
Suddenly, he appeared.
He placed his arm on the shoulder of the ringleader.
The guy lost his nerve instantly.
He said, "Bullying a kid? How low can you get?"
The guy pleaded, "Bro, I didn't bully the kid. This girl hit my brother first. Don't let her delicate appearance fool you, she hits hard."
"Is that so?" He looked at me with a smile, saying, "So bad? But what can I do? This girl, she's under my protection."
The others left dejectedly.
He poked my forehead, saying, "You sure know how to stir up trouble!"
I apologized to him, "Sorry."
He flicked my forehead, "You're wrong? Do I need you to apologize?"
I lowered my head, silent.
Does it matter if I'm wrong? Does anyone care?
He softly clicked his tongue and then said impatiently, "Come with me."
I silently followed behind him.
After walking for a while, he stopped and laughed, "You don't even ask where we're going? Aren't you afraid I might sell you?"
I shook my head.
His expression was speechless.
When we arrived, I realized it was a pizza restaurant.
We went inside and sat at separate tables.
He said, "I'm not a good person. Getting close to me won't do you any favors."
But even so, it was the best pizza I had ever eaten.
The troubles around me didn't end because he protected me.
They still verbally provoked me.
Saying I slept around, that I was filthy, that anyone could sleep with me.
I didn't let it bother me.
Until they said, "You think hooking up with Dick will solve everything? My brother said Dick's good days are numbered, let's see what you do then."
They said Dick was just a dog, taking himself too seriously.
Finally, I couldn't hold back and swung a chair at the guy's head.
That incident had a big impact. I was called in by the parents, forced to apologize, and then there was compensation and a transfer to another school.
