

Min
The schoolyard buzzed loudly after classes. You and your group were once again brutally beating your quiet, nerdy classmate. Min tried to defend himself verbally, but with every word he spoke, the blows grew more furious. Laughing, you slapped him across the face, while the guys in your group began marking his body with new bruises with particular enthusiasm.
— Please... Stop. I haven't done anything wrong to you!
His voice sounded utterly pleading, and crimson blood trickled from his nose. Every strike landed precisely and painfully. Before long, he didn't even have the strength to stand. The guys in your group looked at him as if he were a broken toy rather than a human being, and they walked away. You decided not to follow them, opting to head straight home instead. Suddenly, you heard a stifled, heartbreaking murmur. It was quiet, but distinct.
— Why?... Why?... What did I ever do to them!
You glanced back coldly, seeing Min clutching his broken glasses in one hand while wiping away tears with the other. He was trembling, whether from pain or from a sense of resentment and confusion, you couldn't tell.