The campus was alive with the usual hustle and bustle of students rushing between classes. Kazaf walked through the courtyard, his steps steady, his eyes scanning the surroundings. He'd gotten used to the whispers by now—the admiration, the stares. It didn't bother him anymore. He wasn't the type to seek attention, but it followed him anyway, especially since that girl had started sending him gifts.
Kazaf sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. It was getting to be a bit much. He'd barely made it out of the last class when a few of the other students started eyeing him from across the courtyard. He could feel the tension in the air.
"That's him," a voice said behind him, barely a whisper, but he could hear it clearly. He'd gotten used to the rumors by now, but this one… This one was different.
"He's the one she keeps sending gifts to," another voice added, just loud enough for him to hear.
Kazaf rolled his eyes but didn't look back. The girl they were talking about was from his class, someone who had been sending him small gifts—a bracelet, a letter, a book. Nothing crazy, but enough to stir up jealousy among the others. He didn't know why she did it, and frankly, he didn't care. He wasn't interested in her. Still, the attention had caused a stir, and now, a group of students was about to confront him about it.
Suddenly, a group of five students stepped into his path. Aamir, their leader, had a smug grin plastered on his face. The others stood behind him, eyes narrowed in hostility.
"Well, well, if it isn't Kazaf," Aamir said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "What's up with all the attention lately? The gifts, the whispers, the girls falling over themselves? You think you're better than us?"
Kazaf glanced up, not bothered, but curious. "Aamir, is it? Do you have something to say, or are you just going to keep standing there like a bunch of idiots?"
The group shifted, clearly annoyed, but Aamir smirked. "Oh, I'm not just standing here, Kazaf. We were just wondering why a guy like you is getting all the attention. You think you're some kind of prince, huh? With all the girls throwing themselves at you?"
Kazaf shrugged, unfazed. "Maybe they like me. Maybe they don't. I don't really care."
Aamir's expression darkened. "You don't care, huh? Well, maybe we should show you what happens when someone doesn't know their place."
Before Kazaf could respond, Aamir lunged, throwing a wild punch toward his face. It was sloppy, a typical move from someone who thought size and strength were enough to win a fight.
Kazaf barely moved. With a swift sidestep, he grabbed Aamir's wrist mid-air and twisted it behind his back, sending him crashing to the ground. The other four hesitated, eyes wide with shock.
"Is that really the best you've got?" Kazaf muttered, shaking his head. "You're making a fool of yourselves."
Aamir gritted his teeth, struggling to get up. "Get him, guys!"
The others surged forward, but Kazaf was already moving. He ducked under the first punch, then dodged a kick from Faisal. With a quick motion, Kazaf grabbed Faisal by the ankle and flipped him onto the ground. The impact was enough to make the other students take a step back, clearly intimidated.
"You guys really should think this through," Kazaf said, his voice calm but firm. "I don't want to fight you, but if you're determined to make it happen, I'm not going to hold back."
Azim, the biggest of the group, took a step forward. He cracked his knuckles, trying to look tough, but Kazaf wasn't impressed. Azim swung a heavy fist toward Kazaf's head, but Kazaf ducked low, sweeping Azim's legs out from under him with a swift kick.
The remaining two, Rami and Shakir, exchanged uncertain glances. They were reluctant to take on someone who clearly knew how to fight. Kazaf could see it in their eyes—they were scared now.
"Listen, Kazaf," Rami said, his voice shaky. "This isn't what we wanted. We just—"
"You just wanted to show off," Kazaf interrupted, his voice cold. "You thought you could bully me, but all you've done is embarrass yourselves."
Shakir took a step back. "You don't have to do this, Kazaf. We're just—"
"Just what?" Kazaf raised an eyebrow, his voice full of sarcasm. "Jealous because a girl gave me a gift? Is that it?"
The group was silent now, and Kazaf could see the regret in their eyes. He'd made his point.
"You came at me because you thought you could. Now go back to your classes before you make things worse," Kazaf said, his voice unwavering.
Aamir, still on the ground, growled in frustration, but he didn't move to get up. The others reluctantly backed away, not daring to challenge him further. They knew they'd lost this round, and they knew better than to provoke him again.
Kazaf watched them retreat, his expression neutral. He wasn't interested in fights, but when pushed, he didn't hesitate. As the group disappeared into the distance, Kazaf sighed and continued on his way, thinking to himself that this was just the beginning. Things were about to get a lot more complicated.
--