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"A liar begins with making falsehood appear like truth, and ends with making truth itself appear like falsehood."
— Unknown
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Tahir Vs Imran.
The insult hung in the air like poison.
"The only creepy person I see around here," Imran replied, his voice dripping with contempt, "is the vile, twisted, psychopathic creature standing right in front of me…"
The words came out sharper than he intended, fueled by months of bottled-up rage. His jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles in his face trembled. Every time he looked at Tahir, the humiliation of the last five months came rushing back like acid through his veins.
Tahir merely smirked.
Not a twitch of anger.
Not a flicker of annoyance.
If anything, he seemed amused.
"How sweet. I like the names. I'll keep them as souvenirs for visiting this place."
That smirk only made Imran's blood boil harder.
His hands curled into fists.
"It's been five months since you threatened me and then… hmm… beat me up for no reason. And then you made me start dating Safeeyah—the girl I disliked the most in this school, ever since junior year. Imagine that. A guy like me dating Safeeyah. I despised her the whole time.
"But I did all of that out of fear you'd expose my secret… knowing fully well that I loved Mimi more than anything. I had no choice. You forced me to end their friendship by handing over those love letters written in MiMie's handwriting—practically forged by you. And then somehow you hacked both my phone and MiMie's phone and planted those fake text messages. Admit it. Go ahead."
His voice rose with every sentence until the last words exploded from him.
The accusation echoed through the empty corridor.
For a brief moment, the silence afterward felt suffocating.
Tahir tilted his head.
The gesture was so casual it almost seemed insulting.
"Hmm… what are you talking about? Admit what…?"
He tucked both hands into his pockets and looked out toward the distant horizon through the hallway opening, as though the entire confrontation bored him.
Imran took a threatening step forward.
His patience was gone.
"Admit all of it, and maybe I'll let you leave here with both your legs still working. You and I both know what will happen to you right here, right now."
Tahir released a slow sigh.
The kind someone gives when forced to listen to an unnecessary lecture.
"Hmm… is that so? Terrible, really. But… did you forget that I've got your secret?
Forget what I said I'll do? You might get expelled from this school, your father might disown you for what you've done. You'll be branded for life if anyone gets this information. And I've shown you the video proof of that."
The moment those words left his mouth, Imran visibly shook.
Not with fear.
With fury.
Pure fury.
"You're bluffing. You won't do all that. If you were going to, you would've done it months ago.
The fact you've kept this secret for more than five months proves how bad, corrupted, and disgusting you are. Truth is… you're just like me."
For the first time, Tahir's eyebrow rose slightly.
A tiny reaction.
"Hmm… ouch. Did you just compare me to you… Imran?
I might be bad and… somewhat evil sometimes, but I'd never do what you did. And enough of this—I'm not here to debate with you.
Have you done what I told you to do? You know the consequences…"
Imran suddenly barked out a laugh.
"Hahaha!"
The sound wasn't joyful.
It sounded unhinged.
Almost desperate.
"You really thought I was gonna do what you asked? Tahir, it ends for you right here, right now.
From today on, you'll never threaten me again. And one way or another, you're deleting that evidence of me."
He lowered himself into a fighting stance.
Every muscle in his body tightened.
Every ounce of training he'd endured over the past months surged through him.
Across from him, Tahir didn't even blink.
Not once.
"Hmm… wow. Have you forgotten what happened last time we fought? Are you sure you want to go through that again?"
Imran's eyes narrowed.
The memory still burned.
The defeat.
The humiliation.
The helplessness.
He remembered every second.
"I haven't forgotten anything. And it's been five months. I've been training for this moment."
Tahir studied him for a second before sighing again.
"Hmm… I see. But I'm afraid you'll be disappointed with the results of that training if you fight me right now. Alone."
A grin spread across Imran's face.
Dark.
Satisfied.
Predatory.
"Be that as it may… I'm not fighting you alone this time. I brought backup."
He placed two fingers between his lips and whistled sharply.
The sound echoed down the hallway.
A few seconds later, footsteps began climbing the staircase behind him.
Tahir chuckled.
A genuine chuckle.
"Hmm. I see. Creepy Boy brought backup. Looks like you're learning your lessons.
However… I'm about to teach you a new one: you shouldn't bring a knife to a gunfight."
For the first time, he shifted his footing.
Not nervous.
Ready.
Imran sneered.
"No… Tahir. Right now you're the one holding a knife. And you're outnumbered. So it's time you learned a lesson from me. I'm taking revenge—for both Mimi and Safeeyah's sakes."
Two boys emerged from the staircase and stopped behind him.
Both raised their fists.
Both wore expressions full of anticipation.
The odds had suddenly shifted.
Or so they thought.
Tahir's eyes swept over the newcomers.
Calculating. Measuring. Assessing.
His face remained calm. He wasn't intimidated. Not even close.
Three opponents were manageable.
The environment wasn't.
The third-floor railings were dangerously low.
One bad shove. One misplaced kick. One stumble. And somebody could go over.
That would complicate things.
A classroom would be safer. More contained. His eyes briefly scanned the hallway.
Then he sighed. "Hmm… you know what? I give up. I can't fight three people at the same time, so how abou—"
Before finishing his sentence—
He ran.
Exploded into motion.
Sprinting down the corridor like someone fleeing for his life.
The sudden retreat caught everyone off guard.
For half a second, Imran stared.
Then a victorious grin spread across his face.
Fear.
Tahir was afraid.
At least that's what he believed.
The two boys thought the same.
Their confidence skyrocketed instantly.
Without hesitation, all three gave chase.
Exactly as Tahir expected.
The trap had been set.
Now all they had to do was walk into it.
Tahir reached the final classroom at the far end of the corridor.
He darted inside.
The door slammed toward the frame—
Almost.
One of the boys lunged forward and jammed his shoulder into it.
The door stopped inches from closing.
Just like Tahir wanted it to be, for it to look like he is struggling to close the door, but carefully waiting for the other 2 boys to catch up.
Tahir pushed back from inside.
The boy shoved harder.
For several tense seconds, the door rattled violently between them.
Then the others arrived.
Together they rammed their combined weight against it.
BANG.
The door burst open.
Tahir was thrown backward.
His body hit the floor hard.
Pain exploded through his elbows as skin scraped across the rough surface.
A bruise immediately began forming beneath his sleeve.
Still—
He got exactly what he wanted.
He rose slowly. Dusting himself off.
The classroom felt quiet.
Almost eerie.
Imran and the others stepped inside.
Spreading out. Closing every angle. Blocking every exit. Surrounding him.
Imran laughed.
"Hahaha. Like a cornered mouse, you're about to get what's coming to you. We're gonna roughen you up a bit…"
One of the boys moved behind him and locked the classroom door.
Click. The sound echoed loudly.
Final.
Tahir calmly brushed dust from his sleeves.
Then rolled them up neatly.
Almost politely.
"Hmm… you should be careful with a cornered mouse. When it feels like it has nowhere to go—and nothing to lose—it attacks back.
And besides… who said I'm the cornered mouse?"
His eyes slowly moved across all three faces.
The faint smile returned.Colder this time. More dangerous.
"If you ask me… I see three… cornered mice?"
_______________________
One of the boys lunged first.
His fist came whistling toward Tahir's head from the side, fueled by adrenaline and overconfidence.
Tahir didn't retreat. He didn't even try to dodge.
Instead, he stepped directly into the attack.
The sudden movement caught the boy off guard. Tahir shifted left, closing the distance before the punch could fully extend. His folded forearm snapped upward, knocking the strike harmlessly off course.
At the same instant, his right fist shot forward.
CRACK.
The punch slammed into the boy's jaw with brutal precision.
The impact twisted the boy's head sideways and sent him stumbling across the classroom, his eyes widening with shock as his balance vanished beneath him.
Before he could recover—
Tahir swept his legs.
The boy's feet left the ground.
For a split second, he hung in the air.
Then he crashed onto the hard classroom floor with a sickening thud.
The entire exchange lasted less than two seconds.
Tahir immediately spun toward Imran.
Imran stood frozen for a fraction of a moment, still trying to process how quickly his friend had been taken down.
Then instinct kicked in.
His body tensed.
His feet planted firmly.
His fists rose.
Tahir rushed him.
Fast.
Too fast.
The distance between them disappeared in an instant.
Imran braced himself.
Waiting.
Watching.
Preparing for the collision.
Then—
At the very last moment—
Tahir changed direction.
To Imran, it looked like an attack.
A direct charge.
But it was never meant for him.
It was a feint.
A deliberate lie.
And Imran bought it completely.
His body committed to defending against a strike that was never coming.
Meanwhile, Tahir slipped past him like water flowing around a rock.
Two long strides later, he was already sprinting toward the third boy standing beside the locked classroom door.
The boy barely had time to register what was happening.
His eyes widened.
His mouth opened.
Too late.
Tahir's fist buried itself deep into his stomach.
The air exploded from the boy's lungs.
"Ghhkk—!"
The strangled sound echoed through the classroom.
The boy doubled over immediately.
Tahir seized him by the shoulders and drove him backward.
BANG.
His back smashed against the classroom door.
The wooden frame rattled violently.
Before the boy could recover, Tahir's hand shot upward and wrapped around his neck.
Not enough to choke.
Just enough to control.
Just enough to move him wherever he wanted.
Tahir turned.
Right on time.
Imran was already charging forward.
Anger burning in his eyes.
Tahir smiled.
A small smile.
A satisfied smile.
Perfect.
You took the bait.
With a violent shove, he hurled the boy directly into Imran's path.
The two bodies hurtled toward each other.
Imran reacted quickly.
Faster than Tahir expected.
At the last possible moment, he twisted sideways and narrowly avoided a direct collision.
Relief flashed across his face.
For a brief second, he thought he'd escaped the trap.
He hadn't.
The moment he turned back toward Tahir—
A shadow rose into the air.
Then impact.
THUD.
Tahir's flying kick slammed into his chest.
The force was devastating.
Imran's feet left the ground.
His body flew backward.
Then he crashed onto the classroom floor with a painful gasp as every ounce of air was ripped from his lungs.
The room fell silent.
The entire fight had lasted mere seconds.
Now all three boys lay scattered across the classroom floor.
Groaning.
Coughing.
Trying to breathe.
Trying to understand what had happened.
Tahir slowly walked toward Imran.
Not rushed.
Not excited.
Almost relaxed.
As though this were a routine inconvenience.
He stopped beside him.
Then placed the sole of his shoe directly onto Imran's fingers.
A sharp cry escaped Imran's throat.
"Aahh!"
Pain exploded through his hand.
Tahir crouched down.
Without saying a word, he slipped a hand into Imran's pocket and pulled out his phone.
"I know you were recording us earlier," Tahir said quietly.
His voice carried a mocking amusement that somehow felt worse than anger.
"That's why you wanted me to admit everything. Let's see… how will your little recording help you now?
Ohh, I get it. You want to tell Safeeyah the truth about our arrangement, huh?
How sweet. Were you feeling guilty?
I thought you hated her… or are you starting to develop feelings instead?"
He tilted his head slightly.
"How sweet. Don't worry—I'll send Safeeyah the truth. But the question is… which truth? Yours, or mine? Hmm… I think I'll go with mine. Thanks to this lovely recording you made."
Tahir tried unlocking the phone.
The screen flashed.
Fingerprint required.
His smile widened.
"Hmm… ooh, ouch, how rude of me—stepping on your fingers like that. Does it hurt? Lemme take a look."
He lifted his shoe just enough to seize Imran's thumb.
Then pressed it against the screen.
Click.
Unlocked.
"Much better."
Tahir immediately opened the audio file.
He sent it to his phone.
The room remained silent except for occasional groans from the defeated boys.
Minutes passed.
Five long minutes.
Tahir sat there calmly editing.
Cutting. Splicing. Rearranging. Crafting.
Using several tools, voice editors, AI enhancements tools.
When he finally finished, he pressed play.
The edited recording filled the classroom.
Then he hit play.
__________________________________
The Edited Audio Recording
"Imagine, a guy like me—Imran—dating Safeeyah. The girl I disliked the most in this school. Since our junior years, I despised her the whole time…
Knowing full well that I loved MiMie more than anything… 'but after she rejected me', I was forced to end their friendship by handing over those love letters—which were written in MiMie's handwriting, which is practically forged by me…
I… somehow managed to hack MiMie's phone and placed all those fake SMS messages… I admit it… I admit to all these… because… I had to take my revenge on… MiMie."
(end of edited audio)
_________________________________
Every manipulated sentence. Every carefully selected phrase. Every distorted confession. When it ended, Tahir nodded in satisfaction.
Then he deleted every trace of the original recording.
Every file. Every backup. Every possibility of recovery.
Only then did he toss the phone back.
The device landed on Imran's stomach with a dull thud.
"Oooouch—Tahir, you bastard!"
Imran wheezed through gritted teeth.
"You won't get away with this. I swear—you'll pay for all of this!"
"Hmm… apparently, I just did," Tahir replied casually while scrolling through his own phone. "Just know—if anyone finds out what happened here, you'll be sorry. For now? You've got Safeeyah to answer to.
And your entire class.
Looks like you get to be the black sheep this time." He added.
His thumb moved across the screen.
The message sent.
Anonymous number.
Attached audio.
Attached poison.
"The bitter truth. What Imran was hiding from you… play me."
A second later—
Delivered.
"Hm… it's done. Safeeyah should've gotten it by now."
Tahir checked the time.
"Judging by the time, she'll be in the locker room prepping for the marathon. And her phone will be with her. What do you think she'll do, hmm?"
The question sounded almost playful.
Almost.
Imran tried pushing himself upright.
Tahir immediately shoved his hands away.
He collapsed back down.
"Ouch… what do you hope to achieve?
Why are you doing all this?
What do you have against MiMie or Safeeyah?
Are you in love with MiMie? Is that it—?"
The question never finished.
Tahir's foot slammed into his stomach again.
Imran folded instantly.
A strangled gasp escaped him.
"Hmm… shut up. You ask too many questions," Tahir muttered. "Can't it just be because I like chaos and violence?
Ooh—almost forgot. I wanna show you this."
He held his phone inches from Imran's face.
Then pressed play.
The screen illuminated both their faces.
Imran watched.
And the color drained from his own.
The secret.
His secret.
The one thing he never wanted exposed.
The footage was real.
Undeniable.
Damning.
His stomach dropped.
His pulse thundered in his ears.
"See that?" Tahir said softly. Far too softly "Let this be your warning. If anyone finds out what happened here, or anything we talked about… you'll regret it.
And if you dare say anything to Safeeyah—if you deny a single thing she confronts you with—you will regret the day I heard your name.
Are we clear… Creepy_Boy?"
For the first time since the fight began—
Imran looked afraid.
Truly afraid.
Not angry.
Not humiliated.
Afraid.
His throat tightened.
"Ouch… y-yes…"
"Hmm… louder. I didn't hear that clearly."
"Yes—yes—please just leave us alone…"
The words came out weakly.
Broken.
Nothing like the threats he'd been making earlier.
Tahir stared at him for a moment.
Then shrugged.
"Well," he muttered, "works for me."
He slipped the phone back into his pocket.
Straightened his uniform.
Brushed imaginary dust from his sleeves.
And with the casual boredom of someone leaving an uneventful meeting, he turned toward the door.
"I should go…"
Tahir turned around walked out of the classroom, Hands in pockets, no expression on his face, just like nothing ever happened here.
______________________________
Safeeyah alone in the Locker Room
The message was from an unknown number. And it wasn't text alone—there was an audio file attached.
Highlighted within the message were the chilling words:
"The bitter truth, what Imran was hiding from you… play me."
She stared at the message on her phone. It was from an unknown number—no name, no preview, just a single audio file.
For a second she just blinked at it, unsure whether her brain was processing it right. A twist of shock and curiosity curled in her stomach.
Right as she was about to hit play, she realized something—
the locker room was empty. Completely empty. Everyone else had left.
Just her.
She slowly lowered herself onto the bench, her fingers trembling as she tapped the audio.
And as the voice played, tears began rolling silently down her cheeks, falling onto her screen and blurring the light.
She couldn't think straight. A part of her had known—had suspected something was wrong—but hearing it now made everything collapse inside her.
There was no denying it. The voice in the audio…
It was Imran's.
She sat there, folded into herself, sobbing the way a lost little kid might cry when the world becomes too big too fast.
Somewhere beyond the walls, the stadium erupted with cheers—the next race had started.
Thankfully it wasn't their turn yet… but she should have been outside, warming up with her teammates.
What was she supposed to do now?
Her breath shaking, she made a decision.
She had to hear it from Imran himself.
From his own mouth.
She shot up from the bench and ran out of the locker room, but the moment she stepped outside she froze.
She had no idea where he was.
Just as she was spinning around, wondering where she'd even begin looking, she heard someone shout her name from far away.
She turned.
Imran stood four buildings away on the second-floor corridor, limping toward the stairs.
She started moving toward him, and he started moving toward her, wincing with every step as he descended.
They met on the first-floor walkway of the same building—
—but something had already happened between the moment he called out to her and the moment he reached that floor.
While limping down the steps, Imran had gotten a message from Tahir:
"I'm watching you. If you tell her anything other than what I sent her, you'll end up in a worse place than you are now. Check the video.
I'm uploading it anonymously to the League of 9.
You know what they do when they get information like this.
Your school life in elite schools? Consider it gone.
Be warned. This message will disappear in a few seconds."
The message vanished.
When Imran finally reached her, he didn't even try to pretend.
His voice cracked as he said,
"I'm sorry. I'm… I'm so sorry. I regret what I did to you."
The words crushed her.
It felt like her heart shattered into dust—falling, falling, falling until it hit her stomach like broken glass.
She turned and sprinted away, sobbing, running blindly toward the pitch.
"Wait—Safeeeyah! Please, come back! I'm sorry!"
Imran tried to chase her, but his injuries from fighting Tahir earlier forced him to his knees.
He gasped for breath as tears streaked down his face, whispering, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"
Safeeeyah didn't know where she was going.
Left, right—everything looked wrong.
Her vision blurred from crying, and all the anger she'd been storing up toward MiMie suddenly felt out of place.
She didn't even know who she was supposed to blame anymore.
Imran?
MiMie?
Or herself—for being the insecure mess who always jumped to conclusions and blamed everyone else before giving them a chance to explain?
She ended up back in the locker room without even realizing it.
She curled into her locker, her forehead pressed to the cold metal, crying uncontrollably.
About ten minutes later…
She heard someone calling her name.
Umaymah had come in.
Safeeeyah quickly straightened up and wiped her face.
"What happened to you?" Umaymah asked softly.
"Nothing. Is it our turn?"
"The race before ours is about to start. We're up next," Umaymah replied.
"Okay… I'm ready. Let's go," Safeeeyah said.
"But you're crying. What happened? Tell me," Umaymah said, touching her shoulder.
Safeeeyah flinched and gently pushed her arm away.
"I said I'm fine… let's go."
Umaymah gave her a small, worried nod. "Alright."
Before stepping out, Safeeeyah went to the sink and washed her face, trying to erase the last ten minutes from her reflection.