Chapter 2: Into the Chaos

San trudged down the narrow alleyway near school, dragging his feet as he went to meet his friends. He hadn't seen them all day. They always hung out here after school, away from the prying eyes of the other students. His friends were the only ones who didn't see him as worthless, the only people who understood what it was like to be the targets of constant bullying.

He reached the meeting spot, and as expected, Acheron was already there. He was leaning awkwardly against the brick wall, towering over everyone with his lanky frame. Acheron was the giant of the group, tall but uncoordinated, always tripping over his own feet. His size only made things worse for him in school, drawing unwanted attention from bullies.

"Yo, San," Acheron greeted with a nod. His voice was deep, but there was always a nervous edge to it, as if he was perpetually waiting for something to go wrong.

"Hey, Ache," San replied quietly. He always called him "Ache" because Acheron hated his full name—it reminded him too much of the mythology class where everyone laughed at him when he tried to explain the meaning behind it. "The river of woe," they'd chant, mocking him.

"Where's everyone else?" San asked, looking around.

"They'll be here soon," Acheron said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Zephyros texted. He's running late, as usual."

A few moments later, the rest of the gang started trickling in. Phaeron, pale and quiet, slid in next. He barely spoke, always keeping to himself, but he had a way of listening that made you feel like he understood everything you didn't say. Then came Zephyros, small and wiry, practically vibrating with energy.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late," Zephyros stammered, his words spilling out in a rapid jumble. "I, uh, had to—uh—hide from that jerk Jamesss Llllee again. Theee- koreannn oneee---- You know, he—he… he was waiting for me by the lockers. Thought he'd—uh—take my lunch money again. Can you believe that?"

San chuckled softly. "Sounds like a normal day for all of us."

Orion arrived next, as spaced out as ever, his eyes fixed on the sky. He didn't even acknowledge the group at first, lost in his own world, before casually sitting down beside them. Finally, Korrin and Thalor appeared, Korrin already fumbling with his words, trying to start a conversation but getting lost in the stutters that made him the butt of so many jokes at school.

"W-w-we're h-here. Didn't w-w-want to be late," Korrin said, his face flushed with the usual embarrassment.

Thalor, as quiet as always, simply gave a nod in greeting, his eyes downcast. The smallest of them all, he often stayed out of sight, trying not to draw attention.

San sat back and let the familiar feeling of comfort wash over him. With his friends, he didn't have to be anyone but himself. They were all outcasts, each with their own burden to carry, but together, they made it work.

The peace didn't last long.

The heavy sound of footsteps echoed down the alleyway. San's heart sank. He knew that sound, and so did his friends. Arthur.

Arthur and his gang came into view, and the tension was immediate. Arthur's face twisted into a cruel grin when he spotted San and his friends.

"Well, well, look what we've got here," Arthur sneered, his sharp eyes scanning the group. "The losers' club."

San instinctively lowered his gaze. His heart raced in his chest, the familiar feeling of dread rising within him. Arthur's gang followed him like wolves, ready to pounce.

Arthur stopped right in front of San, but he wasn't looking at him. His eyes locked onto Zephyros instead. Zephyros froze, his usual jittery energy draining away as Arthur stepped closer.

"You know, I've been thinking," Arthur said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Why do you all stick together? What do you even see in each other? You're all pathetic, especially you, Zephyros. What's the point of a name like that when you can't even stand up for yourself?"

Zephyros shrank back, stammering as he tried to respond. "I—I… I don't w-want any trouble, Arthur."

Arthur's grin widened. "Too late."

Without warning, Arthur grabbed Zephyros by the collar and shoved him against the wall. Zephyros gasped, his eyes wide with fear. San took a step forward, instinctively wanting to help, but his feet felt glued to the ground.

"Let him go, Arthur," San said weakly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Arthur laughed. "Why? What's he gonna do? What are *you* gonna do, San? Call your big brother Rahand to come save you?"

The mention of Rahand made San's stomach churn. Arthur's hatred for his brother was well-known, and San paid the price for it every day.

Zephyros whimpered as Arthur tightened his grip. "Y-you don't h-have to do this…"

"Of course I do," Arthur said, his tone casual, like he was discussing the weather. "You're all nothing, and it's about time someone reminded you of that."

Arthur slammed Zephyros against the wall again, harder this time. San's hands balled into fists, but he knew he couldn't stop it. None of them could.

Just when it seemed like things couldn't get worse, a group of older students appeared at the end of the alley. They were from another school, the neighboring city. San recognized them—they had a reputation for being just as bad as Arthur's gang, if not worse.

"Look who's here," one of the rival gang members called out, his voice full of malice. "Arthur and his little lackeys."

Arthur released Zephyros, letting him crumple to the ground, his face pale with fear. Arthur's expression hardened, his fists clenching, smiling like the devil who is about to trick the next human into thinking he does not exist.

"Get out of here, this isn't your turf," Arthur spat.

The rival gang wasn't having it. "You think you run things, Arthur? You're nothing outside of this school. Let's see how tough you really are, even a lion isn't a true king at home."

Before anyone could react, the rival gang rushed forward, and the alley erupted into chaos.

Fists flew, bodies collided, and shouts filled the air. Acheron tried to use his size to shield San and the others, but even he couldn't hold back the sheer number of attackers. Korrin, usually too shy to fight back, threw a punch in defense, but it landed awkwardly, sending him stumbling backward. Orion, still lost in his thoughts, barely managed to dodge a blow before getting dragged into the fray.

San tried to stay on the outskirts, but it wasn't long before he found himself in the thick of it. His body ached with every hit he took, his vision swimming as he struggled to keep up. His friends were getting beaten, Zephyros already on the ground, trying to curl into himself to avoid the kicks raining down on him.

But in the middle of it all, Arthur stood tall, fighting like a machine. His fists moved with brutal precision, each strike sending an opponent sprawling. It was like watching a monster unleashed. Arthur's boxing and Muay Thai skills made him unstoppable, and he reveled in the violence, a twisted smile on his face.

San watched in horror as Arthur laid waste to the rival gang, but even as he fought, Arthur's eyes never strayed far from him. San knew what was coming. He felt life and death.

Arthur's attention snapped back to him just as the last rival gang member fell. Blood dripped from Arthur's knuckles, and his grin only widened as he stalked toward San. Everyone laying around him, San saw not a boy that day but a man who stood up for himself, against his obstacles, Arthur was a walking Lion, clothes turn off, a perfect body and a perfect walk. In his walk one could see death coming.

"This is all your fault, you know," Arthur growled, grabbing San by the neck and lifting him off the ground. "Everything your brother gets away with, it's because of *you.* You think you can hide behind Rahand forever?"

San couldn't even respond. His chest burned, his ribs aching from the earlier hits. Arthur didn't wait for an answer. He slammed San against the wall, his fist crashing into San's stomach with the force of a hammer.

The pain was blinding. San gasped, but no sound came out. His vision blurred, and for a moment, everything went dark.

Then, the sound of sirens pierced through the chaos.

"Cops!" someone yelled, and Arthur dropped San like he was nothing, retreating with his gang into the shadows. The alley was suddenly empty, save for the broken, battered bodies of San and his friends.

The police arrived moments later, finding San and the others beaten and bruised on the ground. They barely had time to explain before they were thrown into the back of a police van, cuffed and silent.

As the van doors slammed shut, San's head fell back against the cold metal, his entire body aching. Arthur had gotten away. Rahand would never know. And once again, San was left to take the blame for a mess he didn't create.

This was his life.

Inside the Van

The cold metal of the police van pressed hard against San's back, his body aching from the beating, but it wasn't the physical pain that consumed him. It was everything else. The darkness of the van seemed to swallow him whole, and the low hum of the engine became a distant, muffled sound. His friends sat around him, equally battered, but no one spoke. No one even looked at each other. They were all too lost in their own pain and shame.

San's breath quickened. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, harder and harder, like it was trying to break free. His hands trembled, clutching his knees as if holding on to something—anything—might keep him grounded, but it wasn't working. His vision blurred again, the reality of what had just happened sinking in deeper with every passing second.

**Why? Why does this always happen?** The question tore through his mind, an echo of everything he couldn't say. He bit down hard on his lip, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill over. He couldn't cry. Not now. Not in front of everyone.

But he was losing control.

His thoughts spiraled, each one darker and more suffocating than the last. **I'm so weak. I can't do anything right. I couldn't even help Zephyros. I couldn't stop Arthur. I couldn't stop the fight.** His body shook as he fought to keep it together, but every second in that van felt like a year, the walls closing in on him, squeezing out every bit of air.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown out the overwhelming noise in his head, but it only got louder.

**You're pathetic, San. You're a coward. You're always a burden.**

He could still feel Arthur's hands on him, could still hear the taunts, the laughter. **It's all your fault. Everything is always your fault. Rahand doesn't care about you. He never has. No one does. You're just an embarrassment.**

The pressure in his chest built until it felt like he was about to explode. His fingers dug into his knees, his knuckles turning white as he tried to stay quiet, tried not to let anyone see him unraveling. But the more he tried to hold it in, the more it suffocated him.

**I can't breathe. I can't think. I can't…** His throat tightened, and he gasped for air, but it felt like no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get enough. The walls of the van seemed to close in tighter, and the faces of his friends blurred into shadows.

His mind raced back to the fight. Zephyros' terrified face as Arthur slammed him against the wall. Acheron trying to hold them back but failing, Korrin stuttering out desperate words before getting knocked to the ground. And then Arthur… Arthur, who always seemed to have control. Arthur, who took such sick pleasure in making him suffer.

**Why didn't I fight back? Why didn't I do something?**

The thought screamed at him, tearing through his mind with vicious intensity. He should have done more. He should have protected them. But he didn't. He never did. He just stood there, like always, letting Arthur humiliate him, letting him ruin everything.

And now they were in a police van. **Juvenile detention.** His heart thudded louder in his chest, the weight of the word crushing him. **How did it come to this?**

Tears pricked at his eyes again, but this time he couldn't stop them. He buried his face in his hands, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. **I'm such a failure. What's the point of all of this? What's the point of me?**

He hated himself. He hated everything about who he was. **I can't stand this anymore. I can't stand being weak. I can't stand being nothing.**

A memory flashed before him—Rahand walking through the school halls, head held high, every eye on him, admiration and respect trailing him like a shadow. **He never has to deal with this. He never has to feel this way.**

The image of Rahand only made the shame burn deeper. **I'm so far beneath him. Why can't I be more like him? Why can't I be strong like he is? Why can't I fight back?**

The sobs came quietly, but they wracked through his entire body. His friends were silent, still lost in their own heads, and none of them noticed San breaking down. Or if they did, they didn't have the energy to acknowledge it.

**I hate myself. I hate being this way.** The thoughts wouldn't stop, circling endlessly in his mind. **I'm always the victim. Always the one who gets hurt. Always the one who ruins things for everyone.**

His mind churned, pulling him deeper into the pit of despair. **They don't need me. They'd be better off without me. What do I even add to this group? I'm just dead weight.**

The darkness pressed in tighter, suffocating him with the weight of his own self-loathing. He could hear the soft breathing of his friends around him, each one of them lost in their own thoughts, their own pain. He knew they were hurting too, but that only made things worse.

**I dragged them into this. If it weren't for me, Arthur wouldn't even care about them. It's all because of me. Because of Rahand. Because Arthur hates Rahand and I'm the weak, fat brother.**

He shook his head, the thoughts pounding against his skull. **I wish I wasn't me. I wish I didn't exist.**

The tears were flowing freely now, but the van was dark, and no one could see. He clenched his jaw, trying to stop the sobs from escaping, trying to swallow down the overwhelming wave of despair that threatened to drown him.

**I need to change.** The thought emerged like a desperate gasp for air, cutting through the haze of self-hatred. **I can't keep living like this. I can't keep being this weak, pathetic version of myself.**

But how? How could he change? He'd tried before—tried to be more confident, tried to stand up for himself—but every time, he failed. Every time, someone like Arthur knocked him back down, reminding him just how powerless he really was.

**Maybe I can't change. Maybe this is all I'll ever be.**

The van hit a bump in the road, jolting him out of his thoughts for a moment, but the pain in his chest stayed. The suffocating, overwhelming pain that wouldn't let him breathe, wouldn't let him think.

**What if this is it? What if I'm just stuck like this forever? Always the victim, always the loser. Always Rahand's shadow.**

His fists clenched tighter, his nails digging into his palms, the sting of it barely registering through the cloud of emotions. **I hate this. I hate everything about myself.**

The van continued to rumble down the road, taking them closer to whatever punishment awaited them. Juvenile detention. San had no idea what it would be like, but the fear of it gnawed at him. **What if it's worse than school? What if they're even crueler?**

He shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts, but they kept coming. **What if I never make it out? What if I'm stuck in this cycle forever?**

And through it all, one thought kept repeating, louder than all the others:

**I just want it to stop. I just want everything to stop.**

San pressed his head against the cold metal wall of the van, the sobs finally subsiding into quiet, broken gasps. The tears were drying on his cheeks, but the pain inside hadn't lessened. It never did.

In the darkness, surrounded by the quiet breathing of his friends, San felt more alone than ever. He wanted to scream, wanted to break free of everything holding him down, but no matter how much he wanted it, he knew he couldn't.

And that thought, more than anything else, was what finally broke him.

San sat in the corner of the van, his body still trembling from the emotional storm that had just passed over him. His mind was swirling, chaotic thoughts clashing with each other like waves in a storm. He felt detached, distant from reality. The faces of his friends, the ones who had been there with him through everything, seemed blurry, as if they were fading away. And the police officers in the front—he could barely hear their voices over the roaring in his head.

Suddenly, something inside him snapped. A strange, hollow laughter bubbled up from his chest, and before he knew it, he was grinning. His lips stretched wide, his eyes wild and unfocused. It was like he was watching himself from the outside, a spectator to his own unraveling.

**What is wrong with me?** The thought was there, but it didn't make sense anymore. Nothing did. His entire life, he had been trapped, cornered, suffocated by his own fears and insecurities. He had let everyone walk all over him—Arthur, his brother Rahand, the entire school. And now, the police.

San's eyes darted to the policewoman sitting near the front of the van. She glanced back briefly, then turned her attention back to her colleagues, ignoring him, like everyone always did. That grin on his face widened, his heart pounding faster and faster.

**Wake up.** The voice inside his head, that familiar voice of self-loathing, screamed at him. **Do something. Stop being weak. Stop being nothing.**

The laughter stopped, and the smile on his face twisted into something darker. His hand drifted to his forehead, trembling at first, but then he pressed harder. The van was too quiet, too stifling, and the pressure in his chest grew unbearable. Without thinking, without planning, he slammed his head against the metal wall of the van.

*Thud!*

The sound echoed in the van, and his friends snapped to attention. Korrin's eyes widened, panic setting in, while Zephyros muttered something under his breath.

"San, what the hell are you doing?!" Acheron reached out, but San slammed his head again, harder this time. His vision blurred for a moment, but the pain felt right. It felt like something he could control.

"Stop! Are you insane?!" Korrin's voice cracked with fear, but San couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop.

**Wake up! Be better! Change!**

The words in his mind were deafening. His hands gripped the sides of his head, and again, he slammed it into the wall, his body lurching forward with the impact. Blood trickled down his forehead, but he barely felt it. His breath was ragged, coming in short gasps, and the world around him seemed to swirl.

The policewoman noticed now. She turned sharply, her face etched with shock. "Hey! Stop that right now!" She unbuckled herself, moving quickly toward him. The van screeched to a halt, the officers realizing something was wrong.

San's eyes locked on hers for a moment, wild and unfocused, before he threw himself forward. She reached out to grab him, but he pushed past her, his body colliding with hers. She stumbled, trying to catch her balance, but San was moving on pure adrenaline. His mind screamed at him to keep going, to keep punishing himself, to wake himself up.

"San!" Zephyros shouted, but San didn't hear him.

He smashed his head again, harder this time, and the policewoman lunged for him, trying to restrain him. But in the chaos, she misjudged her movement, and San's arm swung out, catching her in the shoulder. She went down, falling awkwardly to the floor of the van.

"Officer down!" someone shouted from the front, and everything became a blur of noise and chaos. His friends were shouting, trying to hold him back, but San felt invincible in his madness, his desperation. He couldn't stop.

The van door swung open, and more officers rushed in. They grabbed him, holding him down, but even then, San thrashed against them, his mind racing with frantic thoughts.

**Change! Get stronger! You can't be this weak anymore! You have to fix this! You have to—**

And then, through the haze, a memory hit him. The gym. The gym across from his house. The one he had seen through his bedroom window.

**Yes. That's it. That's where it starts. I can change. I can get stronger.**

The thought hit him like a bolt of lightning, and for the first time, something like clarity cut through the fog. He needed that gym. He needed to fix himself. To become someone different. Someone better.

But before he could act on it, his body gave out. His vision went dark, the exhaustion from the day, the fight, the breakdown, and the chaos catching up with him all at once. His muscles went slack, and he collapsed, his consciousness slipping away.

The last thing he heard was the sound of the officers shouting, one of them calling for an ambulance for the policewoman he had knocked down. But by then, San was already gone, sinking into the darkness of unconsciousness, the faint thought of the gym the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

---

Outside, the ambulance lights flashed as San's limp body was loaded onto a stretcher. The officers, still shaken from the chaos, tended to the fallen policewoman, her arm bruised but thankfully not broken.

As they drove toward the hospital, San lay still, his mind and body finally at rest, but somewhere deep inside, a tiny spark of something different had ignited—a desperate need for change, a fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something new.

Even though he was unconscious, his body still reacted to everything with a single drop of tear, coming down his left cheek, tear of sadness.