The classroom buzzed with the low hum of children’s chatter and the occasional scrape of a chair across the cracked linoleum floor. Kite sat in his usual spot near the front, his thin fingers idly tracing the peeling edge of his desk. The teacher, Ms. Lena, stood at the front, writing a series of arithmetic problems on the chalkboard. Her movements were quick but precise, the faint screech of chalk filling the room.

“All right, class,” she said, brushing her hands off on her worn skirt. “Let’s see who’s been paying attention. Who can solve this first one?”

Kite’s hand shot up before she had even finished her sentence, his mind already leaping to the answer. Ms. Lena smiled, pointing to him. “Go ahead, Kite.”

“Seventy-two,” he replied, his voice clear and confident. “Correct,” Ms. Lena said with a nod. “Good work.”

Rad, seated two rows behind Kite, scowled. His arms were crossed, his fingers tapping an impatient rhythm against his bicep. He hated this, hated how Kite always seemed to know everything.Ms. Lena turned back to the board and wrote another problem. “What’s the product of eight and six?”

Once again, Kite’s hand was the first to rise. He hesitated a moment, glancing back to see if anyone else would try, but when no one did, he answered. “Forty-eight.”

“Excellent,” Ms. Lena said, marking the answer on the board. Rad’s glare deepened. The faint snickers from the other kids only made it worse. His fists clenched under the desk, his knuckles turning white.

The lesson continued, and Ms. Lena moved on to a word problem. “If a train leaves Station A traveling at 40 kilometers per hour, and another train leaves Station B traveling at 60 kilometers per hour…”

Kite’s hand twitched, ready to rise again, but this time, Rad was faster. His arm shot into the air so quickly it almost knocked over the ink-stained bottle on his desk.

Ms. Lena blinked, surprised. “Rad? Would you like to give it a try?” All eyes turned to the boy, who smirked and leaned back in his chair, his arms now crossed confidently. He was ready to steal the spotlight, to show everyone he wasn’t just some background character in Kite’s world.

“Uh… 120 kilometers?” he guessed, his voice loud and full of false bravado.

Kite’s hand went up again, but before Ms. Lena could call on him, Kite blurted out the answer. “No, that’s wrong. It’s 100 kilometers.”

Rad’s face froze. The room went silent for a heartbeat, and then, like a crack of thunder, the classroom erupted into laughter. Rad’s ears turned a furious shade of red, his smirk vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. He ducked his head, his hands coming up to cover his face as the kids around him pointed and giggled.

“Rad thought it was 120!” one boy said, barely able to get the words out between laughs. “Even Kite said it wasn’t right!” chimed in another.

Ms. Lena clapped her hands for order, though the corners of her mouth twitched as if suppressing a smile. “That’s enough, everyone. We’re here to learn, not to laugh at each other.”

Rad didn’t look up. His face remained buried in his hands, his shoulders hunched in embarrassment. Kite, meanwhile, frowned. The laughter didn’t sit right with him, even If Rad had been glaring at him all morning. He raised his hand again, his voice cutting through the noise.

“Actually… it’s, uh, my mistake,” he said quickly, even though he knew he was right. “I think I calculated wrong, too.”The laughter subsided as the class turned their attention back to him. Ms. Lena arched a brow, clearly skeptical. “Kite, are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Kite said, nodding. “I mean, it’s easy to mess up word problems, right?” Rad peeked out from behind his hands, his face still flushed but now tinged with confusion.Ms. Lena studied Kite for a moment before sighing. “Well, mistakes are part of learning. Let’s move on.”

As the lesson continued, Rad sat in silence, glancing occasionally at Kite. The boy he thought of as a pest had just… covered for him. Rad didn’t know how to feel about it.

Kite, meanwhile, kept his eyes on the board, pretending not to notice the occasional sideways glances from the kids around him. He wasn’t sure why he had spoken up for Rad, but deep down, something about the laughter had reminded him of how lonely it felt to be singled out.

For the rest of the day, Rad didn’t glare at him once. The bell rang, its shrill echo bouncing off the cracked walls of the classroom. Chairs scraped against the floor as students hurriedly gathered their belongings, eager to leave. Kite packed his things slowly, carefully slipping the small, salvaged screwdriver he’d been fiddling with into his pocket. He preferred to let the crowd thin before heading out, it gave him a moment of peace.

As the last of the chatter faded and the door creaked shut, Kite slung his bag over his shoulder and turned to leave. That’s when he saw Rad standing by the door, leaning casually against the frame with his arms crossed.

“Hey,” Rad said, his voice sharp but wavering just enough to betray the effort he was putting into sounding tough. Kite blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, hey.”Rad didn’t move, his gaze locked on Kite like a predator sizing up prey. Kite shifted awkwardly, clutching the strap of his bag.

“You got a minute?” Rad asked, his tone almost daring Kite to refuse. Kite hesitated, then nodded. “Sure.”Rad stepped into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him. The hum of distant machinery filled the silence between them, the faint blue glow of the undercity’s neon lights seeping through the grime-coated windows.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Rad said abruptly, his hands now stuffed into the pockets of his oversized jacket. “Do what?” Kite asked, genuinely confused.Rad’s brows furrowed, and he let out a huff of frustration. “Don’t play dumb. You know what I mean. Back there, when everyone was laughing at me. Why’d you… cover for me?”

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Kite frowned, his grip tightening on his bag. “I just… didn’t think it was fair. I mean, yeah, you got it wrong, but everyone laughing like that-”“So what?” Rad interrupted, his voice rising slightly. “You think I need your help or something? Like I can’t handle it?”

“No, that’s not it,” Kite said quickly. “I just… I know what it’s like. Being the one everyone’s staring at, waiting for you to mess up. It sucks.”Rad blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. He uncrossed his arms, his posture relaxing slightly. “Yeah, but it’s different for you. Everyone’s always looking at you because you’re… you know. Smart.”

Kite shrugged, looking down at his scuffed shoes. “Doesn’t make it any easier. Half the time, I wish they wouldn’t look at me at all.”

Rad studied him for a moment, his tough façade cracking further. “So, what? You think we’re the same or something?”“I don’t know,” Kite admitted. “I just didn’t like seeing everyone laughing at you. That’s all.”

Rad shifted on his feet, his hands still buried in his pockets. “Well… thanks, I guess. Not that I needed it or anything.”

Kite smirked faintly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “You’re welcome, I guess. Not that it was a big deal or anything.” Rad snorted, and for a brief moment, a flicker of something close to a smile crossed his face. He quickly masked it, clearing his throat and straightening up.

“Don’t think this makes us friends or anything,” he said, pointing a finger at Kite. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Kite replied, his tone light but not mocking. Rad nodded, satisfied, and moved toward the door. Just as he reached it, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “You’re all right, you know that?”

Kite tilted his head, surprised. “Thanks, I think.” Rad grunted and disappeared through the door, leaving Kite alone in the empty classroom. For a long moment, Kite just stood there, processing what had just happened.

“Guess today wasn’t so bad after all,” he muttered to himself before slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading out into the flickering neon glow of the undercity. The small apartment felt warmer tonight, despite the steady hum of the broken heater and the faint sounds of the undercity’s machinery whirring in the distance. The glow from the single overhead light flickered occasionally, casting long shadows against the walls as Kite sat at the old, chipped wooden table with his parents. His mother, Mira, and his father, Dorian, sat across from him, their faces tired but content as they sipped at their bowls of mushroom soup.

The air was thick with the earthy, pungent scent of the mushrooms, a smell Kite had never quite grown accustomed to. He didn’t hate the soup, but he could never shake the feeling that it tasted a bit like dirt, a taste that lingered far too long on his tongue.

But his mother had worked hard to prepare dinner, and there wasn’t always much food to go around. Complaining about it seemed selfish, so Kite forced a small, polite smile, taking another spoonful and pretending to savor it as he stirred the broth, hoping his parents wouldn’t notice his reluctance.

“So, Kite,” his mother said, setting her bowl down with a soft clink. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity despite the weariness in her voice. “How was school today? What did you do?”

Kite paused, the spoon hovering halfway to his mouth. He shifted in his seat, feeling the familiar weight of his parents’ expectations pressing down on him. They didn’t pressure him to be a genius, at least, not in the way some of the other kids in the undercity were expected to survive, but they did expect him to be something more than just another kid in the system.

“It was… okay,” Kite said, his voice quieter than usual. He glanced over at his father, who was busy picking through his own bowl. Dorian’s rough hands gripped the spoon, and Kite saw the tension in his jawline, the deep lines etched into his face from years of hard work. He knew his father didn’t talk much, especially about anything outside of their small, tough world.

His mother raised an eyebrow. ”Just okay? What happened?” She didn’t press, but Kite could see the concern in her eyes.Kite sighed and set his spoon down, suddenly finding the soup less important than the thought that had been weighing on him. “Well, there was this thing today with Rad.” He didn’t mention the whole story about answering the question in class, no point in bringing up the details. But the moment still felt like a shift, a subtle one, that stuck with him as they’d all sat there together in the classroom.

His mother looked up from her soup, leaning forward slightly. “Rad? The boy from your class?” Kite nodded. “Yeah, him. I kinda… I covered for him today.”

There was a slight pause. Dorian, who’d been quiet, looked up from his bowl, his eyes narrowing as if weighing Kite’s words. His voice was gruff but held no judgment, only quiet curiosity. “Covered for him?”

Kite nodded again, his fingers absently tracing the edge of his bowl. “Yeah. He got something wrong in class, and everyone laughed at him. But… I guess I didn’t think it was right. So, I said something to make it stop.” He glanced down at the table, unsure of how his parents would react.

Lena’s lips curled into a gentle smile, her tired eyes softening as she reached across the table and placed a hand on his. “Kite, that was kind of you,” she said quietly, her voice warm. “I’m proud of you for standing up for someone, even if it wasn’t easy.”

Kite felt his cheeks flush. He didn’t need praise, especially not for something that felt so small in the grand scheme of things, but hearing his mother’s words made something inside him relax, just for a moment.His father cleared his throat, and Kite looked up to meet his gaze. Dorian’s eyes were sharp but his expression unreadable. “And what did Rad say?”

“Well… he said thank you,” Kite replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “He didn’t say much else, but… I think it mattered.”There was a long silence, and then Dorian let out a small grunt, his face softening as he returned to his soup. “Good. People remember those who do right by them, even if they don’t show it at first.”

Kite couldn’t help but feel a little pride swell in his chest. Rad had acknowledged him, even if it was just with a simple “thank you.” It wasn’t much, but for someone like Rad, who wore his toughness like armor, it meant something. It meant the world.

“How was it for you, though?” Lena asked, her tone gentle as she returned to her soup. “What was it like standing up for someone who doesn’t always make the best choices?”

Kite hesitated. The question caught him off guard. Rad wasn’t like the other kids. He wasn’t perfect, but no one really was. He had his rough edges, sure, but there was something more to him, something Kite couldn’t quite explain. He was complicated, like everyone else in the undercity, trying to survive however they could.

“I don’t know,” Kite said slowly, looking down at the half-finished bowl in front of him. “I guess I just didn’t want to see him get hurt, even if he doesn’t always show it.”Lena gave him a soft, understanding smile. “That’s what makes you different, Kite. You see the good in people, even when they don’t see it themselves.”

Kite felt a warmth spread through him at his mother’s words. He had never been good at putting things into words but hearing her say it made him feel like maybe, just maybe, there was a purpose to the things he did. Even small gestures could make a difference in a city like theirs.

The silence stretched on as they all ate their soup, the occasional scrape of a spoon or a quiet sigh the only sound. The undercity beyond the walls of their small home continued on, chaotic and unforgiving, but for this moment, at least, Kite was content.

He looked up at his parents, his heart a little lighter than it had been before. “I think I’ll keep helping him,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. “Even if he doesn’t ask.”Dorian grunted again, his face softening with approval. “You do that, son. You do what’s right, and don’t worry about the rest.” Kite smiled quietly to himself, the taste of the soup still lingering on his tongue, but now, for the first time, the bitterness didn’t feel quite as strong.