Crash!

The room shook as a desk toppled to the floor, followed by a loud, heavy thud. At first, Brash thought Craven had tackled the orange-haired idiot over, yet both boys were upright. Like a trio of deer, they stared ahead with round eyes. What had happened? Had the teacher fallen out of her chair? Brash couldn’t help but snicker at the thought. He’d have to take a photo! Whipping out his phone, he turned to face the front, his heart beating excitedly.

However, instead of finding the lady facedown on the floor, he saw she was nowhere to be found. In her place stood five boys, all of whom were sneering down at a lump of tan fabric. Upon closer examination, he recognized the limp figure as that of a boy, one with neatly-groomed blonde hair and round, unnaturally pink eyes. He was wiping blood from his nose as one of his taller aggressors, a muscular brunette with a stupid bun, pressed his foot into his chest. The other foot dug into an overturned book, snapping the spine. 

“Looks like the rabbit is pressing his luck again.”

The boy looked up at them, his pupils turning from one aggressor to the next. He tried to pull his feet close, whimpering as another bully stepped on his ankle, twisting it sideways. 

“Keep reading the kind of material you do, and it’ll be the government on you next. I’ve already beaten you up more times than I can count.” The boy kicked his foot up into his victim’s chin, watching with satisfaction as his head fell back against the brick wall. “My father’s the head of local security.  At the snap of the 907’s orders, he’ll have you shot like a dog. Oh, does that remind you of anyone?”

The boy’s brow furrowed in pain, his gaze falling to his feet. The bullies around him continued to cackle, one of them grabbing the book from beneath the leader’s foot and waving it in his face as though he were a dog. From here, Brash couldn’t make out the title.

Upon closer inspection, Brash recognized the main boy: Axel. As he had claimed, his father was, indeed, the head of local security. He’d seen the father-son duo a few times for virtual work dinners, though they’d never been close. The other boys were unfamiliar. 

His stomach twisted as Axel landed another kick, this one connecting with his victim’s gut. Each attempt by the boy to throw off his aggressors was only met with an even harsher hit, causing him to fall still as they continued to taunt him. His eyes stared plainly at his feet, as though he were trying to disconnect himself from reality until the bullies moved on. Brash had only seen that kind of defeat in the eyes of prey animals on internet videos. He had the same look as a hare being dismembered by a pack of wolves. Anger was beginning to build in Brash’s stomach as he pocketed his phone, some for the boy, but mainly because he didn’t want to be subjected to this sight any longer. It was pathetic. Besides, if he could seem like an upstanding citizen on the first day, he’d present a good image for his family. Maybe then he could prevent himself from becoming the next victim. He already had Fickle on his tail; he didn’t need this pack of jerks, too. 

He got to his feet, weaving through the desks to approach the scene. The beaten boy looked up as he approached, staring at him with one quizzical brow raised. Axel, keeping his foot on the boy’s legs, turned to face him, eyes widening in recognition. 

“Brash!” He bowed his head. “I was planning to come greet you, be assured! I didn’t mean to appear disgraceful or ru-”

“Save it.” Brash held up a hand, using the other to gesture to the half-dead figure before them. “What’s all this about? You’re causing a ruckus.”

Axel’s gaze turned to the boy as though he’d just realized he was there, his foot pulling away like he’d been stung. “Oh, this? Ha, funny you ask. You see, um, this kid, Alden, was reading some banned literature. I’ve given him warnings about reading that kind of stuff in public, but he just keeps doing it! Fool, am I right?” He chuckled desperately, each laugh a plea for approval. He was just as much of a suck-up as his father.

“Banned literature? What kind?”

One of the background boys handed him the book. Though the cover had been torn from their merciless beating, he could still make out the title.

“The World of the Past and How Modernization Has Killed Us”

Brash couldn’t help the scowl that crossed his face. A book trying to promote life before digitization? Media that tore down his parents’ accomplishments? What kind of fool was he defending? Maybe he should’ve let the idiot get beaten up.

Tearing the book in two, Brash tossed the pages aside. “Problem solved. If he keeps it up, my parents will handle it. No need to make a ruckus in the classroom. If he wants to get himself killed, he will.”

Axel watched him with wide eyes before nodding frantically, glancing at his comrades as they, too, began to murmur their agreement. “Yep, right as always. Just as you say! We’ll be moving on!”

Without another word, they moved as one, sliding away from him with their heads close together. As he watched them go, his gaze fell upon a different figure. In the doorway, with her phone out, stood Ms. Carol, her gaze fixed on the boy at his feet. The camera glowed a bright white, indicating that she’d been recording the entire thing.