No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

{TW: attempted assault, violence}

Changing in the locker room was... an interesting experience. Apparently, it was my first time actually getting dressed in here instead of hiding away somewhere else. As soon as I pulled off my shirt, the whispers started.

"No surgery scars! He wasn't a tranny!"

"But I was so sure he was!"

"He still kinda looks like a girl."

"Would you hit it, though?"

"If he was quiet and it was from the back."

"You think Damien hit it already?"

"I don't see any marks."

What the actual fuck?

Before I could turn around and tell those perverted bastards off, Damien suddenly stepped in front of me, holding up a large towel to block me from view. His face was turned away, pointedly avoiding looking at me himself.

I sighed. "Thanks."

At least like this, I could change in peace.

***

Today's gym class was soccer. I liked playing soccer, not watching it. Something about running, strategizing, and taking control of the ball felt good. Besides, with a quick headcount, it seemed like there'd be even teams today.

Wrong.

The first time someone knocked me down, I thought it was an accident. Just a shoulder bump that caught me off guard. No biggie. I got back up and kept playing.

The second time, it hurt more. I hit my knees hard, and someone stepped on my fingers as I tried to catch myself. It stung, but again—no biggie. I picked myself up and kept going.

The third time, it clicked. This wasn't an accident.

A sharp kick to the back of my leg sent me crashing to the ground.

"I was aiming for the ball, move, faggot," the guy who kicked me sneered before running off to score.

Oh. So that's how it was.

They wanted to play dirty? Fine.

From then on, I made sure I was playing on their time—tripping, kicking, and shoving right back. I lost count of how many times I got knocked down, and how many times I knocked them down in return.

By the end of class, my entire body ached from the abuse. My legs were probably bruised and cut in a few places, my finger was turning an ugly purple, and my knees shook from landing on them too many times.

Enough was enough.

"Hey! I need water!" I snapped at the gym teacher.

He blew his whistle, signaling a break.

Damien was at my side in an instant, handing me a bottle of water. "Are you good to continue?"

"Absolutely not," I muttered, doing another headcount. Something felt off. "Three people are missing."

Damien raised a brow, scanning the field. "Who?"

"Fuck if I know."

From the far side of the field, I noticed something suspicious—someone sneaking into the equipment shed, glancing around nervously before shutting the door behind him.

I clenched my jaw. Bad feeling confirmed.

"Cover for me, Damien."

"For what?"

I didn't answer. I took off across the field toward the equipment shed, my body protesting every step. I didn't know exactly what was going on in there, but I had a terrible feeling I'd find out soon enough.

I reached the door and kicked it open.

The sight inside made my stomach churn.

Two big guys stood over a scrawny kid with glasses, their shadows looming over him like vultures circling fresh prey. The kid was trembling, tears in his wide eyes.

One of the bastards had his dick out.

I saw red.

"What the fuck?!"

Before they could react, I launched a kick at full force into the guy with his junk in his hand.

He stumbled back with a grunt of pain, barely managing to keep from falling.

"Hey! What are you—"

I turned and punched the second guy in the face. Once, twice—until his back hit the wall with a dull thud.

"Fuck, it's that Spencer kid! What's wrong with you?!" the first one spat.

His dick still wasn't put away.

I aimed a stomp as close to it as possible.

He shrieked and stumbled backward, hands flying down to protect himself. Good.

"What the fuck did we do wrong?!" he demanded, voice tinged with panic.

I saw red again.

"Fucking seriously? You're gonna stand there with your dick out and ask me what you did wrong?! Why the fuck are you acting like goddamn sexual predators in high school?!"

I turned on the second guy, smashing my fist into his face again.

The blonde tried to intervene. I started punching the shit out of him too.

"Are you insane?!" he yelped, shielding himself from my blows.

"I am! And if you don't want me to get even more insane, you better fucking disappear!" I snarled. "Take that bastard and get the fuck out of here before I really lose it!"

The blonde scrambled to his feet, grabbing his half-dressed friend and dragging him out of the shed.

I stood there for a moment, breathing heavily. My knuckles ached, my body hurt, but I didn't care.

Fucking scum. I'd never understood why people committed sexual crimes. Every single one of them deserved to be shot dead and buried under the jail.

Then I remembered—

The victim.

I turned, finally getting a good look at the kid who had nearly been assaulted.

He was tall, but frail-looking—glasses slipping down his nose, shaggy blonde hair tied up in a messy bun. His uniform was noticeably old, a clear hand-me-down. Probably a scholarship student.

I took a step forward. "Hey, are you alrigh—"

He flinched violently, shuffling back until his back hit the wall.

What the hell?

I just saved his ass, so why was he afraid of me?

I knelt down slightly, keeping my voice even. "Look, they're gone. They're not gonna—"

He flinched again, curling in on himself, full-on sobbing.

I clenched my fists.

"...Whatever." I forced my voice to stay level. "What they were gonna do isn't happening now. Just... walk out when you get yourself together or something."

A small whimper.

Wait.

Was this a girl or a guy?

"A tranny?" I muttered, narrowing my eyes.

A hand shot out, slapping me hard across the cheek.

I barely had time to react before the kid bolted out of the shed, still sobbing.

[Mission Accomplished! Justice has been served]

...

It didn't fucking feel that way!

I walked out of the storage shed feeling more pissed off than I should've.

This was exactly why I hated helping people for no reason. There was no payoff. Half the time, people didn't even want the help, and the other half, you got slapped in the fucking face for it.

Damien was waiting for me just outside the shed.

"Did you see all that?" I asked, rubbing my sore cheek.

"I did," Damien nodded, his expression intense. "It... it was absolutely amazing. You're amazing."

A soft ding echoed in my head. Damien's love bar increased to 99%.

I blinked at him.

"I knew you were a good guy," Damien continued, eyes shining with something I didn't recognize. "But this... this is beyond my expectations."

I shifted uncomfortably.

A good guy?

I wasn't. The only reason I even did this was because of the stupid system. If I hadn't been forced to take action, I would've ignored it. At first, I thought a classmate's suicide wasn't my problem. But knowing what I knew now...

I was glad I stepped in.

But did the fact that I wanted to reject the mission in the beginning make me a bad guy?

Fuck.

I didn't like this kind of introspection. But it felt... important. I had no strong morals, no sense of righteousness. I was a pretty shitty person who got lucky enough to get a second try.

Did I even deserve that second chance?

For the first time ever, I felt like a huge piece of shit.

A whistle blew across the field, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Time to go change," Damien said.

"Yeah." I was grateful he didn't pry into my sudden mood shift.

***

Back in the locker room, I immediately realized the problem.

We had to change in the same aisle as the two bastards I had just beaten the crap out of.

Both of them had swollen eyes, and bruises were already forming around their mouths.

"Dammit, my tooth!" one of them groaned, prodding at his mouth.

The blonde snapped, "Ugh! Dammit, Spencer! I'm going to report you to the police for this!"

I stared at them, dumbfounded.

Were these assholes actually trying to play the victim right now? After everything?

I let out a slow, deliberate exhale. Fine. If they wanted to act stupid, I'd talk loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Sure, you pussy," I said, voice dripping with condescension. "You really think the police are gonna solve all your problems if you report me?"

The blonde hesitated.

"An assault charge is nothing to me. I couldn't care less about it." I crossed my arms. "Then, after I'm let off with a slap on the wrist... who do you think I'll come after?"

Silence.

Oh? No more big talk?

I took a step closer, voice lowering. "And you two seem to be forgetting something important. I saw exactly what you were trying to do in that shed. Who do you think will be in bigger shit when the truth comes out?"

Their faces paled.

"Uhhh..."

I slammed my locker shut.

"I'm asking you, which is worse, you piece of shit?" My voice was razor-sharp. "Aren't you going to answer me?"

Nothing.

They knew they had no ground to stand on.

I could feel the other guys in the locker room listening in, waiting to see what would happen next.

I leaned in slightly, voice calm but ice-cold.

"If I ever catch anyone trying to pull that kind of shameful shit on the scholarship students again..." My fingers twitched. I clenched them into fists. "I'll fucking kill you. Got it?"

Around us, a few murmurs of agreement rippled through the locker room.

Good-for-nothing shits.

I should start keeping track of all the messed-up things I've done and maybe—just maybe—spend my time fixing my life into something stable. Something clean.

Something I could actually be proud of myself.

Something I wouldn't regret later.