BOOM!

  The sound of gunshots cracked through the corridors, piercing through glasses and bodies.

  The pristine 'Silver Oak Academy', which was once gleaming, was now in shambles.

  Screams. Shots. Cries.

  Feet stumbled behind desks, pillars, counters and every possible place to hide in.

  But amidst all this, a kid was still exposed.

  Rishabh Tiwari, 16, barely 5'1 and almost in tears. His black hair stuck to his face as his eyes searched for any possible hiding spots. His skinny-fat body was trembling in fear. Asthmatic. His heart thudded louder than the gunshots echoing.

  He was too late.

  The gunshots were clearer as two people found him, laughing like they captured their feast for the day.

  Rishabh tried to breathe but every time he took in the air, it felt like shards scraping him from inside. Any moment could be his last.

  "This was too easy, mate!" One of the men growled like a wolf as he aimed his gun.

  But before something happened—

  A lion stood in front of that wolf.

  That presence was magnetic. His blue eyes, gleaming with anger. His muscles, tightening to fight.

  Yug Verma, ready to save the school.

  The world moved exactly like Yug always wanted it to.

  "Go away."

  "You think you'll beat me, kid?" A man laughed.

  But Yug was gone. And in an instant, he was right behind him.

  He effortlessly disarmed one of the men, twisting his arms and slamming him into the shining white marble floor, shards scattering in the air with impact.

  Before the second guy could even turn back, he collapsed like a puppet with no strings. The kid targeted his pulse point and struck a lethal blow on him.

  In no time, he was surrounded by all the other invaders.

  But Yug? He smirked, emitting an aura intimidating enough to send shivers to their spines.

  He danced around, dodging every attack and landing terrific blows. Each punch was surgical, folding men like crumpled paper.

  He swept three men in a single kick. All the men were knocked down in an instant.

  The other kids looked in awe, mesmerised by Yug's actions.

  They swarmed him the moment each one of the threats fell down. Even the teachers applauded, eyes filled with admiration.

  But none of it mattered to him.

  He moved away from the crowd and approached Rishabh on the ground.

  "Hey." he lent his hand, "It's over now, buddy."

  But Rishabh was blank. He only muttered one thing.

  "Wake up. Wake up. Wake up."

  Yug believed it all for a second. The power. The recognition. Until—

  ——————————————

  SMACK!

  A chalk hit his head.

  Yug jolted up from his sleep mid-lesson.

  He was back to his old, boring reality in Uttar Pradesh.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The 'real' Yug was completely different from what he saw.

  He was 16 too, with a pale face. His ribs were sticking out of his shirt, as if it wanted to escape his body, slouched like he's been carrying a sack of wheat on his back. His socks were mismatched, and the uniform smelled like sweat and desperation. Dark circles grew under his light blue eyes. That was the only thing special about Yug Verma.

  The whole class looked at him.

  "Look, that brat's drooling." The whole class burst into laughter, except for Rishabh.

  The teacher didn't even scold Yug, looking right through the kid. He was invisible to all— like he didn't exist.

  "If only that version of me was real..." He whispered to himself.

  The laughter around him faded— not because it stopped but because he was used to it.

  ——————————————

  DIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!!

  The school bell shrieked like a warning siren.

  Yug packed his bags with half written notes— he didn't remember a single thing from that class.

  Rishabh joined him, handing him all the notes he wrote for his friend.

  They drifted like ghosts— hollow and lifeless. They moved past shoulders, bags, laughter and the smell of cheap samosas lingering like fake comfort.

  They wanted to stay unnoticed and somehow escape the school.

  Every room of Silver Oak Academy was air conditioned and shining with the brightest lights.

  Many girls gathered around the water dispenser, surrounding one of their own. The girl at the center of it all was laughing the loudest, cracking false jokes.

  But if someone looked close enough, they would have seen it. The way she rubbed her fingers against her skin, she wanted to leave. She hated all the over-the-top attention.

  That polished paradise was just a disguise of hell for Yug and Rishabh.

  They almost made it outside, inches away from the 'exit' gate. But then, they heard it—

  "Oi! Softy, get me sodas." A voice pierced their ears like thunder.

  The boys froze, shivering in terror. But they didn't respond, hoping that the voice would magically disappear.

  But their attempt failed as soon as they took the next step.

  In one swift motion, the boys were dangling up in the air, one in each arm.

  "I told you something. Sodas. Now."

  It was Vijay Chauhan. The embodiment of fear in the school. His eyes were burning with rage.

  The guy was huge and bulky. He looked like a grown man, but he was only a year older.

  His hair was buzzed. He was studded with golden chains, rings and ego. There was a tattoo on his neck— a wolf fang with 'BLC' written below.

  Beside him, Manav Prakash, his buttering sidekick who laughed at every single joke before it was even said.

  Short. Feeble. Hiding behind cheap round specs.

  They all thought he was a clown. But Manav never forgot a face, or a weakness.

  "Did you save the world again, super-hero," Vijay grinned as he slammed both the boys on the ground, "or were you drooling on the desk again!"

  Everyone burst into laughter— not because they liked it, but because Vijay did.

  Manav's laugh was the loudest and most hysterical, hyping up Vijay like he was the chosen one.

  Vijay leaned towards Rishabh, "And why do you hang out with him?"

  "At least I'm not with people who treat... others like trash." Rishabh crawled back as he muttered those words.

  The whole crowd went silent. Vijay's eyes turned rageful. And then—

  A storm of fists rained down on them. Each one was harder than before— meant to break, not bruise.

  The only option Yug and Rishabh had was to bear the pain. Manav cheered like Vijay was the hero.

  Others reluctantly agreed, but they pitied the vulnerability of the boys.

  A teacher walked past, eyes flickering on the boy... but she walked away instantly.

  No one dared when it was Vijay's turn.

  But someone's eyes were glued to the scene as he pulled his sleeves up, only the right hand's sleeve.

  Rishabh was beaten up so much that he couldn't move from one corner. It was Yug's turn to be played with.

  "Where's your dad? He—" A knee to the face, "left to get the milk—" A kick to the knees, "Why don't you go—" A punch to the ribs, "disappear after your mom—" An elbow to the nose, "dies."

  The limits were crossed now. Yug tried to stand up, retaliating for the first time.

  But Vijay didn't waste time either.

  Just when he was about to hit his final blow to Yug's guts—

  ——————————————

  His hand was stopped mid-punch. Someone held Vijay.

  "Enough." Vijay was jerked back to Manav.

  The boy was Tarun Singh. Lean, muscles popping from his shirt, brown hair parted down the middle. He only had one sleeve up. His face was calm. The eyes burned with fury— he despised injustice.

  As soon as he turned to lend a hand to the boys, Yug's eyes were widened.

  His body screamed to move, but wouldn't budge.

  "TARUN! BEHIND!"

  Too late.

  Vijay's deadliest blow was already tearing through the air. Just when it was about to strike Tarun's face—

  Vijay's feet felt stuck to the ground.

  The almost-unconcious Rishabh had grabbed his feet, though he knew it wouldn't do much.

  He failed. His breath caught up, wanting the asthma inhaler. But it bought Tarun enough time.

  THWACK!

  The blow hit Tarun like a tidal wave. But him? He didn't even flinch. He took it straight to his face.

  The crowd was in disbelief.

  Even Vijay was shocked. The blow that could send even the strongest to sleep didn't make a high school student move.

  Vijay quietly stepped back, his hands were shaking from the impact.

  But Manav didn't bother, "Everyone! Look at Vijay sir's humility. He didn't beat up this weakling. True strength!"

  But Vijay just dragged Manav away from the scene— he didn't want it to get worse.

  Finally, Tarun gasped, searching for air.

  But he didn't have time for himself. He turned to the boys, picking them up from the gravel scraping their knees.

  "You good, little lion?" Tarun smiled at Rishabh.

  "You couldn't… even block it?" Rishabh asked, awkwardly laughing.

  But Tarun didn't laugh. He didn't even smirk.

  The crowd held their breath. Rishabh Tiwari would either end up in heaven or in the nearby hospital.

  Suddenly—

  Tarun stepped back, straightened his hands, and lowered his head.

  Tarun bowed down, deeply in respect.

  "Thank you. For saving me." The voice was loud and clear.

  No one ever thanked Rishabh like that, and even now, he didn't do much.

  But Tarun didn't thank him either. Tarun honoured him.

  The words hit everyone like a shockwave. Even teachers stopped walking in the corridors.

  He stood there for an agonizing minute. He didn't twitch even a single inch.

  Finally, he began moving to the classroom, smiling— only at Rishabh, not even looking at Yug once.

  "Hey, empty-head! Class is over." The whole crowd finally burst into real laughter.

  "My bad"

  Even Tarun giggled at it, happy to see everyone happy. But when he was going outside, his paths crossed Yug's.

  His smile instantly vanished.

  "You let others bleed for you. Pathetic."

  ——————————————

  Even when the sun hit Yug's skin, he felt cold.

  The words clung to him even when he was home.

  The door creaked open.

  The warm air wrapped him like a blanket of dust, decay and mold. A single naked bulb flickered in the corner.

  Yug dropped his bag to the ground in an exhausted thud, louder than the atmosphere of the 1BHK room.

  In the corner of the room, someone sat slouched on a plastic chair that could collapse any second.

  The woman wrapped a woolen shawl with numerous holes around her despite the heat, coughing every moment. Her dress looked like it was mended more than one could keep track of.

  "Hey, son. What's with the injury?" Her voice was like a violin with broken strings

  Yug didn't even look at his mother— not in anger, but in guilt..But when she asked the same question again, he finally shifted his glance.

  "It's none of your— What?"

  She was bundling up old newspapers to go to work the next day, even when her eyes were rimmed with fever. She had to do something to support her kid's future.

  Her hands were trembling as when she was struggling to tie a simple knot.

  "Mom, don't do this. You're sick. I'll get a part-time job soon, so—"

  "I've kept dinner in the room. Don't let it go cold."

  Her mother still wore a smile despite the pain. Yug couldn't say anything. He just went away after moments of awkward silence.

  His storeroom-turned-bedroom was more of a home to spiders. One dirty mattress kept on the floor. There was a window— the only light source, a crack covered with a newspaper. It was not even suitable to call it a room anymore.

  Yug just looked at the food. The guilt growled louder than his hungry stomach.

  He'd

  ropped on the floor and lay still.

  His palms pressed against the cement.

  And he pushed himself up.

  He had attempted his first push-up.

  His arms shook vigorously. He failed.

  But this time, he didn't stop.

  Something broke open— and Yug Verma had let it out after years.