"How was your day ^__^?"

"It was okay. Plenty of assignments and midterms are coming up."

"Sounds harsh @_@ Will we be able to meet this weekend -3-?

"If you're fine with watching me work on my assignments, you can come over as usual."

"Okay +_+!"

"Wouldn't you be bored?"

"I'd be even more bored at home .___. And you can help me do my homework too! :3"

"Minwoo, your homework is yours for a reason."

"But it's a piece of cake for you! You can just tutor me for a minute and it'll be done. o(^-^)o"

"What are you doing now? Is it break time? Go have lunch with your classmates."

"...I'm on a diet. >_>"

"You're stick thin. Go make some friends. You were so daring with me."

"Well, if I didn't ask for your number, I wouldn't see you again ＞3＜! Besides, they are all so childish."

"You're being really childish now too."

"You always sound so stern!! ;~~; Put in some emoticons so I know how you feel *^*"

"Don't let emoticons replace your ability to use words, kid."

"Call me a kid and I'll bite you on Saturday D<"

"I'm going to stop texting you for today. Go make friends."

-

"Can we talk?"

"I'm in a lecture now, why?"

"Nothing."

"Minwoo?"

"Minwoo, did you receive my earlier text?"

"Yes."

"So you're choosing not to reply?"

"...sorry."

"Give me a moment, I'll leave the lecture for a minute."

I frowned, scrolling through my daily conversations with Minwoo as I hurried out the lecture theatre and realised what felt so odd. Minwoo's usual spam of emoticons were completely obsolete today. Hurriedly punching in his numbers, I pressed the dial button and tried to remember his school schedule.

Right, break time. Hurry up and pick up the call then.

"Hello?" A small voice from the other side.

"Minwoo, what's wrong?"

"I just wanted to hear your voice for a bit." The young boy's voice quivered ever so slightly. I winced at my deductions, checking my watch and deciding the last twenty minutes of lecture before I end my day was crucial in making sure I get to Minwoo before his break ended.

"Wait for me, I'm coming."

I ran back into the lecture hall and ignored the weird looks. The professor didn't pay me much attention, but I definitely need to pay him a visit tomorrow to apologise. And ask for a summary of what I missed.

Packing up my belongings within a minute and then dashing out, I vaguely remember the route from my university to Minwoo's school.

He had asked if I could meet him on a weekday some time ago, since my schedule was complementary to his, and I just complied with his whims. Sure I got a bunch of surprised looks from all the kids exiting school, but Minwoo was so elated he literally bounced with every step and the surprised-turn-weird looks I got didn't matter anymore.

Was he being bullied again?

I chewed on my lip nervously, giving my all as I ran out of the university to the bus stop. I remember how I used to insist that Minwoo made friends with people at school.

However, one day, he came over to my house with bruises on his arms. I would have just patted his head and tell him the kids will grow out of it and he should just brave it out for now when I saw the nonchalant smile on his face.

He was braving it out, even without me telling, and how much more he must have suffered suddenly struck me. I couldn't tell him all these will blow over, I couldn't tell him to endure. In fact, I wanted him to quit school, transfer out, because no one was meant to be a subject of bullying.

If he found a need to call me, how serious must today's situation be?

I quickly texted him that I just boarded the bus, holding my phone tightly and trying to catch my breath. I barely had enough consciousness to fix my fringe that parted against the wind, reading the word that arrived.

"Hurry."

-

It took every bit of sanity for me not to hunt down boys younger than me, smaller than me and weaker than me. Minwoo was huddled up in the corner of a toilet cubicle, and had his left arm fractured in an ugly angle. He was in tears, biting down on his shirt to hold in his screams when I assessed the damage.

I called the ambulance and walked him to the principal's office, demanding a meeting.

"I don't know what sort of ed-up education your school is advocating, but if your student is going to suffer a freak case of bullying and nothing is going to be done to those kids, I will make this a public case." I snapped, ignoring how the receptionist was trying to tell me that the principal is busy and I am not a guardian of Minwoo. "Do I need to be his legal guardian to tell you that his arm is broken and this is no way a school should be handling bullying case, or should I contact the media right now for you to argue with them whether or not a legal guardian needs to be present?"

I lied.

Because whether or not they dealt with those children, I was going to make it public. This school doesn't deserve Minwoo.

I tried not to cry when the small boy I held screamed in pain as the paramedic twisted his arm back into position. His right hand was cold against mine, his body trembling. His tears flowed unendlessly, face reddened from the tension.

"I'm sorry." I muttered, clasping both my hands around his.

What frightens me the most was that I could ignore his text, not catch his unusual behaviour through typed words and left him to suffer until God knows when. What frightens me the most was that if I never met him and never offered to bring his father's files to his office, Minwoo can very well appear on the front page of the daily newspaper as a victim of bullying, dying at a young age of 16.

Only when he fell unconscious from the ordeal did I contact his father. We both agreed to do it my way.

-