JAY'S POV :
I knew my instincts never lie—they'd screamed a warning earlier, but I'd brushed them off.
Now, I'd never ignore them again. Because they were right.
When I stepped into the echoing gym, the rubbery scent of polished floors and sweat hitting me first, I expected our P.E. teacher barking orders amid the usual crowd of Section E freaks. Not Aries and his most finest crew lounging arrogantly on the far side of the room, legs sprawled like they owned the place… including that freaking Ella. Ugh. Damn.
"Class, grab a partner!" the teacher barked, her voice cutting through the chatter like a referee's whistle.
Simple throwing drills to start—nothing fancy.
Everyone paired off fast, laughter and shoves filling the air.
No one glanced my way. No surprise there; no one wanted me.
I'd go solo, like always, fading into the background… or so I thought.
I had drifted to the edge of the group, when Ci-N barreled into me, latching onto my arm like a koala clinging to a branch for dear life.
"You are my partner!" he declared, his grin wide and oblivious to the undercurrents swirling around us.
I nodded, forcing a small smile—grateful for his loyalty, I grabbed a red dodgeball—soft but stingy.
Ci-N and I tossed it back and forth in silence at first, finding a rhythm amid the gym's growing noise, our throws light and easy. Until—
Whoosh!
A rogue ball rocketed past my ear, so close it whipped strands of my hair across my face and sent a chill racing down my spine.
Woaaahhh… That was way too close!
I spun. Across the gym, Keifer's group feigned innocence, but their smirks betrayed them.
"Did you see that?" I asked Ci-N, my voice low, scanning for threats.
"See what?" He blinked, clueless, mid-toss.
"The ball! It nearly took my head off!"
"Huh? No…" His confusion was genuine, but mine wasn't.
I decided to ignore it for now—Maybe it was an accident, a wild throw gone astray.
We kept going—throw, catch, throw—our rhythm steadying again. Then—
Whoosh! Thud!
Two balls this time, screaming toward my face from opposite sides.
I ducked the first with a sharp twist, twisted past the second as it grazed my shoulder.
My heart was pounding now, a war drum in my chest. No way that was random. Not twice.
Classmates glared—not at us, at me.
They held balls in hand like weapons: rugged footballs, bouncy volleyballs, fuzzy tennis balls, even a heavy basketball that could crack ribs. It was a full arsenal, eyes locked on their target. Section E's welcome party… I guess.
Challenge accepted.
I flashed a smirk, eyes daring them.
Ci-N had vanished into the crowd—smart kid, sensing the storm brewing.
They fanned out, their grips tightening on their ammo, a semicircle of malice forming.
I planted my feet firm on the floor, unflinching, breath steady.
I love challenges. I lived for this—the raw edge of confrontation, the fire in my veins. And if they are challenging me, I never back down . And I will not lose. Not to them.
They all positioned themselves and got ready, like predators circling prey.
"SECTION E!"
Keifer bellowed from the center, hefting a baseball like a battering ram, his arm cocking back with practiced menace. He wound up, muscles coiling.
"CHARGE!"
Chaos erupted in a heartbeat.Balls flew like missiles. They flew from every angle—hard, fast, relentless, a hailstorm of leather and rubber.
I became pure motion: dodge left as a volleyball whistled past, weave right to evade a football's brutal arc, snatch a tennis ball mid-air and hurl it back with pinpoint force.
Years of martial art drills kicked in—precision from katas, speed from sparring, instinct honed on lonely nights training alone.
My throws landed like strikes: a football smacked a guy's shin with a sharp crack (his yelp was pure gold, knees buckling), a volleyball nailed another's cheek, blooming red.
Thuds echoed off the gym walls like gunfire, the air thick with grunts and the squeak of sneakers.
Cheers and jeers from spectators hyped the frenzy, phones out capturing the spectacle.
The teacher's whistle pierced through shrill and desperate, but no one stopped—adrenaline had taken the wheel.
Then—
crack!
Keifer's baseball slugger hit my stomach like a freight train, slamming the air whooshed out of me in a gasp.
I crumpled to the floor, pain blooming hot and nauseating through my core. I clutched my stomach so tight.
I am not a freaking pole, could not just tank it like some unbreakable statue. It hurt so bad.
Even my heart ached. Because it was Keifer who hit me. Him. It makes you wonder—why you? Why me? Did I do something to deserve this?
The barrage paused, balls thudding to the floor.
I looked up—laughter raining down like acid, faces blurred in triumph.
Ci-N struggled in Felix's iron grip across the gym, his face twisted in raw worry, fists clenched.
And there, on the benches: Aries and his crew, watching silent and stone-faced. His eyes locked on mine, unreadable.
Aries.
If I were not his cousin, would this still be happening to me? Is he the reason they are doing this?
I did not know why, but I suddenly felt like crying. Maybe it was because my whole body hurt from all the balls hitting me. Or maybe because no matter how much I want to tag along with them—with him—I can not. Just because I'm his cousin.
Fuck! God, either end me or end this.
I stopped my tears. No way I'm crying in front of them.
I forced myself up, hating the pathetic shake in my legs, every muscle screaming.
Keifer reared back again—same basketball, gleaming under the lights. The way he threw it—Pitcher's form, pure venom in his stance. No time to block, no room to breathe.
Thwack!
Straight to the nose, a white-hot explosion. The world spun in a dizzy vortex; I crashed down hard, floor jarring my bones.
"Ugh… ouch…" The word escaped as a whimper.
Dizzy haze swallowed me. I dragged myself up one last time, glaring through the pain.
He smirked back, victorious.
One punch. That is all I need—just one, and I'd even the score.
Something trickled warm down my lip. Mucus from the hit? I wiped it with the back of my hand—then froze, world tilting.
Blood!
Bright red, stark against my skin, dripping steady.
"Jay…" Ci-N's voice cut through, laced with pure panic, straining against Felix.
My pulse thundered in my ears. Tremors hit like an earthquake, starting in my fingers.
Not now. Calm down. It is just blood. Just a nosebleed.
But my breathing choked off, ragged gasps that wouldn't fill my lungs.
My vision blurred—tears? No. Worse. Deeper.
This is not good! It is happening again!
"You are so stubborn! Do as you are told!"
Rough shouts invaded my skull, not mine—his.
"Worthless! Just die already! Another mouth to feed!"
Belt cracks like thunder, Mom's fading cries echoing in the dark.
A man's rage, hot breath and fists, over and over, a loop I couldn't escape.
Fight it! Oh no! Not now! No! Jay! Do not! Listen to me! Fight it, Jay! It is just blood! Calm down!
My hands were shaking violently now; I stared at the crimson stain smearing my palm, willing it away.
Darkness clawed in from the edges, pulling me under.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
KIEFER'S POV :
The plan was simple: pelt Jay with balls, piss her off, and drag her fucking cousin Aries into the mess. Watch him get upset while she took it.
Easy win, more fuel for our war.
Gym stank of rubber and sweat, fluorescent buzz drilling into my skull as Coach droned about "partners" and basic throws.
No one touched her—Section E poison.
Ci-N—like a koala—clung to her arm, beaming like an idiot.
Whatever.
We started lobbing "strays" her way.
First one whistled past her ear—close shave. She spun, eyes narrowing. We played innocent. Harmless opener.
Second and third came quick—two balls whipping mean, one grazing her shoulder with a sharp sting.
Crew glared daggers, gearing up: footballs, volleyballs, tennis balls, Yuri's damn basketball.
She smirked back, daring us. Her eyes challenging each and every one of us.
Ci-N vanished into the chaos.
Game on.
"SECTION E!" I bellowed, baseball gripped tight. "CHARGE!"
We launched the barrage—footballs, volleyballs, anything within reach—aiming to shatter her defiance first. Balls flew like shrapnel—thuds echoing, air whooshing relentless.
But not one struck true. She evaded with uncanny grace, every pivot fluid and exact. Dodged perfectly, a blur of precision: weave left, duck right, snatch mid-air and fire back.
Her retaliations landed like precision strikes, bruising shins and egos alike. Faces bloomed red from her strikes.
She flowed like a machine, relentless and honed—years of grueling training evident in her every motion.
Her focus? Razor-sharp.
Aim? Deadly.
My crew wavered, curses mingling with the sharp thwacks of her counters.
I was stunned. A girl doing this?!
I can't believe my eyes anymore.
We were losing. No—we don't lose. We dominate. Always.
I squeezed my eyes shut, tuning out the gym's clamor—the squealing sneakers, the roaring crowd, the teacher's futile whistle.
Breathe.
Lock in.
This isn't a challenge anymore.
My eyes snapped open, zeroed on her mid-weave.
The baseball tore from my grip, a vicious fastball she could not outmaneuver. It buried into her stomach; she crumpled, clutching the spot, breath exploding in a pained wheeze.
Triumph should have surged in me—fist pumped, crew roaring approval. I Should've felt victory rush, pride swelling.
But it evaded me. Guilt pierced sharp and sudden, a vise around my chest. My heart twisted—for her? I could not revel in her defeat, could not mask it with laughter. Self-loathing flared instead, tangled with an unwelcome worry. I ached to stride over, pull her up, demand if she was all right. Masochistic urge to punish myself for the blow.
Why?
I cloaked it in a smirk, iron walls slamming down.
She rallied, hauling herself upright, defiance reignited.
No clue why—raw impulse, festering grudge, the compulsion to clinch it—but I drew back once more.
Harder, fiercer, every ounce of pitcher's venom unleashed. No evasion possible.
Crack.
It smashed her nose; she toppled again, crimson trickling from her nostrils.
Dazed, she sat up, oblivious at first.
Then she wiped it. Froze solid. Stared at the scarlet stain on her palm. Body shivered violent, breaths ragged.
She folded completely, eyes rolling shut, voice fracturing in delirious loops:
"Jay! Do not! Listen to me!"
Guilt deepened, twisting like a knife. Pain in my chest amplified. Worry choked me.
I never intended that level of harm. Just provoke her, stoke the fire for the spectacle. A nosebleed was never on the script.
But why did blood trigger this unraveling? What demon gripped her? She devolved into a frenzied specter, lost in some private hell.
Aries plunged to her side from his Section A perch, kneeling, clasping her shoulders with urgent shakes.
"Jay! Listen to me! Jay! Come back!"
What in blazes was this madness?
Her lids fluttered wide,trance-broken. She peered up at him, bewildered.
"What happened? Why are you here?"
Incredible—she erased the episode, as if we had not all beheld her shatter moments prior.
Comprehension crashed in.
She stiffened, murmuring,
"It happened again, did it not?" Voice quivering, brittle as frost.
Again? What history haunted her? Had this torment struck before?
Her eyes scanned the gym, landing on me.
I thought she would get angry, annoyed, irritated, or at least curse me out.
Nothing.
Instead, her eyes were filled with… disappointment! Guilt! Fear! Deep, piercing.
Like I'd failed her.
It stung worse than it should've.
What did she expect? Mercy? From me?
What exactly were you expecting, Jay?
She gripped her wrist hard—knuckles white—bolted upright, and sprinted out.
Aries followed right after her.
Silence crashed in. Crew exchanged looks.
"Bruh, what the fuck? She went full crazy," David muttered.
Aries returned, radiating barely-leashed fury.
"Can you not drag Jay-jay into this shit?"
Oh, so he did care about her.
"Are you affected?" I smirked, relishing the leverage.
Prime ammunition. Nice! Another advantage against him.
"No. Just worried for you idiots." he countered, smirk mirroring mine but laced with frost.
"…If I were you, I wouldn't let her see blood."
My eyebrows arched
"Since when do you care?"
"Since this moment. Be careful—you might meet disaster up close."
I crossed my arms.
"Bullshit. She's Section E. Our domain, our decree. You Section A types stay out."
His chuckle rumbled low, dark, as he turned.
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
That's it.
He walked off. Kiko trailed, glaring David down.
Ella lingered last—her eyes on me, heavy with disappointment.
No wonder she spurned me. Perpetual disappointment. I am sorry, Ella…
Ci-N broke free from Felix, storming me red-faced.
"Keifer! Why did you have to do that?!" He yelled at me, furious.
"Accident," I snapped.
"I did not know her nose would bleed!"
"Yeah, right. That's what you said after choking that last baseball game—'accident,' my ass."
His jab landed low, dredging up that loss.
Rage boiled.
I fisted his shirt, yanking him close.
"Watch what you say to me… Do not forget who I am."
"I know, but Jay—"
"Softening to her now?" I growled.
"Keifer… release him," Yuri sighed, his perpetual boredom a dull anchor.
I thrust Ci-N away, pinning him with my stare.
"Test me no further. Jay stays in Section E. Hear me? She stays."
"What?!" Yuri's eyes widened—rare crack in his chill.
"You heard me right. She stays. I have a strategy."
Aries delivered the blueprint—her vulnerability, his soft spot from Section A heights.
Perfect leverage. I can use her to bait him, break him. I never thought cousin baggage could be this useful.
Yet the pang endured, guilt simmering like embers, concern for her gnawing relentlessly.
I loathed this vulnerability—unbidden, corrosive. Shoved it into the abyss.
No fractures allowed.
Not in this war.
Not in me…
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So guys, as I told you i have sent the spoilers on Pinterest. And I will also share when I will post the chapter.
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KAI_666…