The crowd was noisy.
Renji stood at its very center, and at the same time somewhere very far away. As if someone had inserted thick, murky glass between him and the rest of the world: laughter passed through it muffled, other people’s voices blurred, emotions foreign and unreal. He lowered his gaze to the asphalt and clenched his fingers. His nails dug into the skin of his palms. The pain was sharp, concrete, honest.
I’m here. I’m still here.
That was the only way he understood it.
Why me?
The question surfaced again, as always, without warning, without an answer. He had long stopped looking for logic. There was no logic. There was only the crowd, and there was him, a point around which it revolved.
The school yard lived its usual life. Someone was discussing a math test, someone was whispering about a new scandal, someone was kicking a ball by the far wall. An ordinary day. Ordinary people. But around Renji the space behaved differently, gazes lingered for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, voices quieted at his approach and regained their sharpness behind his back. He felt this just as distinctly as he felt the cold of the asphalt through his soles.
– Hey. That asshole again?
– Seriously? He’s here again?
Renji didn’t turn around. He already knew what he would see.
It wasn’t a matter of weakness, he had understood that long ago. It didn’t matter who started it first and why. What mattered was something else: the crowd had found a target. Like a pack that has caught the scent of blood, they didn’t think separately, they felt together. One common enemy, one common contempt, one common power. A scapegoat is not a person. It’s a function. And Renji performed it faithfully.
On that day, under the thunder of laughter that sounded to him like a verdict being handed down, his school nightmare acquired its final name.
Only images remained in memory, sharp, without context, without beginning or end.
Dirty tile of the locker room against his cheek. Sole prints on the white uniform. The metallic taste of blood that lingers long, even when it no longer hurts. Each time he told himself the same thing: the last time. And each time he was wrong. So consistently that it had almost become a tradition.
Almost.
– Renji.
A voice, too close.
He slowly raised his head.
Familiar faces. Identical smiles. Eyes that held nothing but boredom and anticipation. The circle around him tightened, not sharply, but smoothly, the way a noose tightens when no one is in a hurry. The world behind their backs seemed to cease to exist.
But Renji looked through them.
He was thinking of something else. Of that thought which had once taken root, quietly, imperceptibly, and had not gone anywhere since. It only grew.
If the pain doesn’t stop… then it needs to be redirected.
The corner of his lips barely twitched.
They didn’t notice. They weren’t interested in looking at his face, only in watching him shrink. They were accustomed to a certain picture. They weren’t expecting anything new.
Too bad.
The day was drawing to a close when it happened.
Renji pushed open the door of the school bathroom and immediately felt it: something was wrong. The air was different. Too quiet for a place that was usually noisy.
They were already inside. Several familiar faces, tense, angry, whispering about something of their own. At his appearance the conversation cut off. Gazes slid over him with familiar cold interest.
But there was one more.
In the corner, by the last stall, stood a man Renji had not seen before. Not a student, that was clear at first glance. Too tall, too heavy, with stubble on his face that doesn’t grow during school years. A stranger within these walls. And yet here.
– Who are you? Renji’s voice came out quieter than he wanted.
The man looked at him unhurriedly. The way one looks at something known in advance and uninteresting.
Kaoru sends his regards, he said simply. Says you’ve been too relaxed lately. That needs to be fixed. You forgot your place.
Renji felt something tighten in his chest, not fear, not quite fear, something colder.
– When I’m able to fight back… he began, and the words came out heavy, almost solemn. I swear, I…
The man’s leg swung up, sharply, unexpectedly and stopped a centimeter from the air in front of him. Just a check. Just a swing.
Renji flinched.
From the swing.
The man lowered his leg and smirked, slowly, with pleasure. He didn’t hit. Why would he? Everything had already been said. Better than any words.
Renji walked out of the bathroom without looking back. He walked quickly, until the school building was left far behind, until the air became simply air again. He stopped, leaned against a wall and exhaled.
They didn’t touch him. This time they didn’t touch him.
That should have been a relief. Perhaps once it had been.
He looked at his hands. His nails had left small red crescents in his palms.
