Chapter 05: The rise of Zev McStuffins!

Zev tried to sit still and hold out until closing hours.

He really did.

But he was starving. Or, more accurately, craving something specific.

'I'll just make a quick trip to the vending machine, acquire the goods, and be back before anyone realizes I'm gone. Yeah, it's a foolproof plan!'

With that resolve, he slapped his hands on the desk and sprang to his feet, startling the students around him. 

Of course, Zev failed to notice this because, in his mind, he was the stealthiest ninja to ever grace the academy halls.

His gaze narrowed on the classroom door, and he darted toward it with dramatic flair.

On his way, he passed a desk—and though he and the occupant barely spared each other a glance, reality slowed for a split second as he walked past.

How curious.

Perhaps that animated moment meant the mystery desk owner wasn't an NPC, but a side character with a tragic backstory and magnetic charm destined to collect fans like Pokémon.

Shhh. Only the plot would tell.

— ✚

A few minutes later, Zev stood before the vending machine, eagerly peeking through the glass at his greatest desire.

Lo and behold—

It was in stock.

Glorious banana milk. (And it was about a cent cheaper, too.)

Tears of relief prickled in his eyes. 

How long had it been since he felt that thick, white, gooey goodness slide down his throat? He'd been on the brink of withdrawal, barely holding on… but now, salvation had come.

Without hesitation, he slid some coins into the machine. It clanked, buzzed, and spat out his holy grail.

With the finesse of a veteran who had been drinking banana milk religiously since weaning, Zev tore out the straw and stabbed it into the container.

The first sip made him forget every problem in existence.

"Ahhhh. Now that's what I'm talking about," he sighed, feeling ten pounds lighter and twelve percent more emotionally healed.

He was going in for a second sip when he heard the sound of approaching feet, laughter, and voices. A group of students. Zev wondered vaguely if they were his classmates.

He hadn't even turned yet when a voice quipped—

"Didn't know the academy was open to twelve-year-olds. Check out the little guy."

Zev froze, straw still in his mouth.

He didn't need to look. He already knew.

He turned slowly, glaring as he sipped furiously from his banana milk, eyes daring them to keep going.

If they thought he was going to cower, they had the wrong guy.

The scrawny, easy-to-bully image he sold to his mother? It was just a smokescreen. Bullies? He'd have them for breakfast—with extra syrup.

The boys looked startled, probably shocked that the "midget" didn't scurry away.

But Zev wasn't looking at them. Not really. His eyes were locked onto someone else standing at the far back.

That green-haired boulder of a boy.

Rin.

Rin looked right back at him. He seemed surprised, gaze flicking between Zev and the others.

Before he could say anything, the same voice from earlier piped up again.

"Ha! I guess his stature's the only midget part of him. Look at that glare. He actually thinks he can take us all."

He was definitely wrong about that. Zev couldn't solo a housefly even if it was missing a wing.

Rin, who had temporarily assumed the role of a statue, frowned.

"Us?" he repeated, sounding mildly scandalized.

"I joined you all because you said we were going to the snack shop. Habin... what exactly are you doing right now?"

The smug smile on Habin's face collapsed like a house of cards. He clearly expected Rin to jump in with his cronies and share in the bullying fun.

But uh-oh. If there was one thing Rin despised, it was arrogant bullies.

Habin tried to laugh it off.

"Ah, Rin. It's not like that, I swear. I was just messing with the guy."

"If you want to keep 'messing around,' I won't stop you," Rin said flatly. "But I'll be excusing myself here. I'd rather not be lumped with the likes of you."

Without another glance, Rin turned and walked off.

"W-Wait! Rin!" Habin called. "Oy! I told you, it's not like that!"

But Rin didn't stop. He didn't even look back as he disappeared down a different hallway.

Habin stood frozen for a moment, humiliated.

Then a scowl twisted across his face as he turned back to Zev.

Zev took a small step back. Naturally. Habin looked like he was ready to bury him alive.

"This is all your fault, you little shit," he growled. "Why didn't you say something? It's not like we bullied you. That stupid look on your face made Rin misunderstand."

Zev felt intimidated—who wouldn't?—but he wasn't about to back down.

"My fault? That's rich," he snapped. "I wasn't the one making fun of someone's height. Maybe take responsibility for your own words instead of throwing blame around like a toddler."

Habin's fury hit a new level. How dare this pint-sized goblin talk back? The veins on his temple looked ready to burst.

His fist came up, fast. "You fucking—"

Thwack!

The hallway echoed with the impact, followed by the soft clink of something tiny hitting the floor.

A tooth.

Habin staggered back, clutching his jaw, dazed and in pain. When he pulled his hand away, it was stained with blood.

He stared blankly at the tooth on the floor, then turned his gaze to the object that had smashed into his face like divine retribution.

It lay a few inches away.

"A... can of soda?" he muttered, wincing.

His friends were equally stunned, but snapped out of it faster. They whipped their heads in the direction it came from, ready to unleash hell.

But they froze.

Standing at the end of the hallway was a boy with glowing red eyes and a smile that didn't reach them.

Zach.

Still grinning. Of course he was. But the vein in his jaw said it all: this wasn't a friendly grin. 

"Oops," he said without a shred of guilt. "Didn't see you there. Sorry 'bout that. Thought I saw a trash can."

Zev's eyes widened.

'That idiot. What is he doing? Is he asking for a target on his back?'

Habin's lackeys #1 and #2 weren't amused.

"You bastard. Are you insane? Get over here!" one of them barked, stomping toward Zach—only to be blocked by Habin's arm.

"Drop it, Ugo. You really don't want to mess with that one..." Habin mumbled, jaw still cradled. "That fucker ain't right in the head."

"Huh? But he—"

"I said drop it."

His tone was sharp, commanding—but if you listened closely, it trembled. Like he feared what would happen if things escalated.

"Let's just leave."

He shot one last murderous glare at Zev before turning and heading to the nurse's office. His friends followed, though Ugo flipped Zach off for good measure.

The hallway fell quiet.

Zev kept his head lowered, bangs shadowing his eyes. Zach's grin lingered, though it had lost its earlier menace and now looked awkward.

"Hey... you're not gonna cry, right?"

Zach was expecting swearing. Maybe a punch.

But definitely not—

"I'm still growing."

Zach blinked. "Eh?"

Zev raised his head, eyes ablaze. "I said I'm still growing! I'm just seventeen! It's not over for me. There's still hope, no matter how fickle!"

Zach stared at him. Then, suddenly—

"Yeahhhh! You tell 'em!" he cheered, instantly transformed into Zev's No.1 hype man.

"Hahaha! Those imbeciles. I cannot wait to see the looks on their faces when I reach my true height of seven feet and crush their pathetic skulls beneath my boots!"

'Seven feet? This guy's hilarious,' Zach thought. Still, he shouted back, "Crush 'em all! Those maggots deserve no mercy!"

"And you know what I'm going to do from now on?"

Zach bounced on his heels. "What? What? Tell me!"

"I'm. Gonna. Eat. Like. A. Freaking. Pig."

Each word dropped like the beat to a world-ending anthem.

Zach hesitated. "Oh. Well, that's... one strategy."

"You know what?!" Zev continued, fired up and delusional. "You wanted to go to the snack shop?! Let's freaking go! I'm gonna stuff myself so hard they'll name me Zev McStuffins!"

"I... That's not how naming conventions work. Also, your name is Zev?"

Before Zev could respond, the bell rang, announcing the next class.

Holy fuck'n airball.

He deflated. "Yeah… of course hahaha. I forgot my life's tragic comedy."