The tension that had begun in the courtyard followed Aarvin the entire day like a shadow he couldn't shake off.
Whispers.
Stares.
Phone screens lighting up the moment he walked past.
The fight video was still spreading, but that wasn't the problem anymore.
The real storm had three names:
James Bennett. Michael Rowe. Henry Clarke.
Final-year seniors.
Powerful. Influential.
And now—angry.
Locker Room Silence
Inside the boys' locker room, John tossed his bag to the bench with a groan.
"I swear, Coach Anderson is going to kill us today."
Aarvin gave a humorless smile.
"Let him try."
John paused, looking at him more seriously this time.
"You're not actually thinking of doing something stupid, right?"
Aarvin didn't answer.
Before John could argue more, the door swung open.
Coach Anderson stepped in—tall, sharp-featured, the kind of man whose presence filled the whole room before his voice even did.
His accent clipped and strict:
"Storm Pack. My office. Now."
Great.
Judgement hour.
Coach Anderson's Office
The two stood before the desk like soldiers awaiting punishment.
Coach removed his glasses slowly.
"You two," he said, pointing between them, "have managed to put Oakridge Athletics on the trending page for the worst possible reason."
John gulped.
Aarvin waited.
"But," Coach continued, "I watched the footage myself."
He paused, rested his elbows on the table.
"Aarvin… you fight well. Too well. And that scares me."
Aarvin lifted his head.
"Sir?"
"You lose control," Coach said bluntly. "And someone with your raw power cannot afford that."
The words hit harder than expected.
Coach leaned back.
"I won't suspend you. Not yet. But you need discipline. And you need to stay away from unnecessary fights. Especially with… those seniors."
Aarvin's jaw tightened, but he remained silent.
John spoke carefully, "Sir, they're the ones provoking us."
Coach lifted a hand.
"I know who James Bennett is. I know all three of them. They're trouble. And if they want revenge, they'll find a way to make you fall."
He stood up, voice lowering.
"Aarvin… don't take the bait."
Aarvin met his eyes.
"Sir… what if they cross the line first?"
Coach stared at him for a long moment — not as a coach, but as someone who understood what real anger looked like.
"Then," he said quietly, "don't let them drag you down with them."
The Boys' Dorm Hallway
John and Aarvin stepped out of the office.
"Great pep talk," John muttered. "Basically: don't fight, unless they punch you first."
Aarvin didn't reply.
Because his attention froze on the far end of the hallway.
Nairi.
Standing there.
But she wasn't alone.
Three seniors blocked her path.
James. Michael. Henry.
Michael leaned against the wall carelessly.
Henry watched Nairi with cold amusement.
James smirked like he owned the building.
Aarvin's breath turned sharp.
John whispered, "Bro… don't."
But he was already walking.
The Line They Crossed
They didn't notice Aarvin until he was close.
Michael spoke first.
"Relax, Storm Boy. We were just talking to her."
Henry added, "She's very… polite when she's scared."
Nairi flinched slightly.
Aarvin's jaw locked.
James stepped forward, arms open mockingly.
"What? You think you can take all three of us?"
Aarvin's voice was low.
"You don't want to find out."
John reached them breathlessly.
"Guys—please—don't start something public—"
James ignored him.
He leaned closer to Aarvin.
"She didn't tell you the full story, did she? She left out how she—"
Aarvin grabbed his collar before the sentence finished.
The hallway went dead silent.
Michael straightened instantly.
Henry's expression shifted from amusement to warning.
Nairi whispered urgently, "Aarvin—stop!"
John pulled his arm.
"Aarvin!! Coach said control!"
Aarvin's fingers trembled with the weight of his rage.
James smirked even while pinned.
"There it is. The temper. The reason you'll fall."
Aarvin shoved him back—not enough to throw a punch, but enough to send a message.
"Stay away from her," he said slowly, each word sharp.
"This is your last warning."
The seniors exchanged looks.
Henry's voice was cold:
"The only warning here is ours."
Then they walked away, unhurried, like a threat in slow motion.
Aftermath
Nairi grabbed Aarvin's arm the moment they left.
"Aarvin… please. They're dangerous."
"So am I," he muttered.
"No," she whispered, eyes shining with worry.
"You're better."
John nodded.
"She's right, man. They want you to snap. One wrong move and it's over for you."
Aarvin looked between the two people who mattered most right now.
"I'm not afraid of them," he said quietly.
"But I'm done letting people walk over my friends."
Nairi squeezed his hand — intentionally this time.
"Just promise me," she said softly,
"you won't fight alone."
Aarvin exhaled.
"I promise."
But deep inside, he knew something:
James, Michael, and Henry wouldn't let this end quietly.
And the next move…
would be theirs.