splinters 一 weak hero.

0-3

sometime during study period, there was a ffft sound, and i saw a glob of spit smack into the back of a guy's head. a snort sounded from sangchul where he sat somewhere behind me. trembles wracked the victim's body, but he didn't turn around or utter a single noise. smart guy.

'hey,' sangchul leered, 'you're supposed to melt away when the hydralisk spits on you. where's the reaction, bitch?'

the guy's fists were shaking as he clenched them under the table, but he did nothing in response. and like a predator losing interest in prey, sangchul leaned back in his chair, smirking. i watched him through my lashes, imitating sleep. his gaze fell just short of mine. 'that loser over there kinda looks like a chick,' i heard him mutter gleefully. 'short and pale. put a dress on him, and he might look alright.'

they were talking about the pink haired. he was a petite little thing compared to the rest of his friends.

'look, he even has those long lashes.'

'you're talking about the new guy? didn't you hear? his name's park jimin.'

sangchul crowed. 'the fuck? even his name sounds feminine.'

i wondered what taehyung was thinking. he was on sangchul's good side, but now his friend was now in danger. so far, he'd said nothing. he was simply smiling at sangchul, an unreadable gleam in his eye.

'how 'bout we go over and see what he's got down there, then?'

the class was silent, seemingly immersed in their studies, but i knew everyone had one ear pricked. as long as it's not me, then it's okay. this was the sort of mindset a school like cheongang would build for most people. it wasn't studying, but survival which was the top priority here.

i raised my head as sangchul and one of his minions got up from their seats, heading for the front row. as sangchul loomed over jimin, arm reaching for his chest, the small boy suddenly stood, shoulder catching sangchul's chest. his chair clattered over.

'oh, shit,' sangchul exclaimed. 'he's a man, all right, and all packed, too.' his hand snaked downwards. 'damn son of a bitch has a fucking anaconda down there.'

jimin's face remained facing away, and no one could make out his expression. but suddenly sangchul's laughter was cut off by a sharp crack as jimin's elbow collided with sangchul's jaw.

sangchul reeled away, hacking out coughs. 'my throat, man, what the hell-'

shock was riddled across everyone's faces. no one had dared stand up to kim sangchul before.

'you fucking bastard,' sangchul yelled. 'have you got a death wish?'

delight pulled my lips up in a reluctant smirk as i saw jimin grab his satchel, and with an expert lash, catch the strap of the bag around sangchul's wrists. his foot smashed into the back of sangchul's knees and the latter fell forwards onto his knees, bones meeting the floor with an audible crunch.

hatsume swore softly behind me. had i not already been shocked by the utter domination over sangchul, i might have properly gasped at that.

we all saw jimin's face then - his eyes were frozen with a cold fury, mouth set in a thin, grim line as he pulled the bag strap tight, rendering sangchul's limbs entirely useless.

'you fucking bastard,' sangchul gasped. 'get this thing off me!'

jimin didn't answer, soft face impassive as he came face to face with sangchul. i almost laughed at how such a gentle, delicate face could be home to the mind of such brutality. this was the third time i had been surprised by these newcomers, the first instance being taehyung's sadistic nature, and the second being yoongi's capabilities.